#kinda want to throw a chair at him but I will remain Calm

[distributedbyrustyquill]

Life is so much Better when I’m not at home 😁

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE GREATEST TEMPTATION.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x cam girl!Reader

"Keeping your boyfriend waiting for too long is always a dangerous game, and when he finally has enough, he deems it most fitting to give your audience a real show."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, semi public sex?, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, possessive and jealous Aemond, kinda submissive reader

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: This is an older story, and although I have edited it, I didn't want to change too much from my older writing. I‘ll now work on new stuff with Maegor, Aegon and Cregan. The movie „cam“ was my inspiration for this!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“Come on, guys, stop it,” you say, your hands running over the curve of your hips. A short riding crop is clasped between the fingers of your right hand while the ones of your left hand pull the thin strap of your lace thong to let it snap back against your flesh, making a show for the audience as you squirm at the impact. “You know, if you don’t get to the cum show, I’m going to have to go off cam to do it without you, so…" 

You kneel on your bed, sitting on your haunches with the ring light and camera positioned so only the parts from your neck down are visible for your viewers. 

“And nobody wants that, right?” your words are accompanied by a feigned pout as you drag the tip of the riding crop from the valley between your breasts down to your navel, dragging it around it slowly. “But seriously, guys, I need it, so hurry up.”

It’s a ping! that alerts you of a received donation, and you clap your hands in excitement upon seeing the bright red $450 popping up on the screen. 

“Ah, RoguePrince81, thank you so, so much,” you hum with a smile. “Alright, ten spanks for you.”

You turn around and position yourself closer to the camera to give them the perfect view of your ass, but before you’re able to start to deliver ten spanks to it, your boyfriend barges into the room. 

Learning from past mistakes, the camera isn’t recording more than your bed, Aemond’s presence remaining unknown to the viewers. With your microphone not muted, you can’t do more than mouth a ‘five minutes’ to him still standing in the doorframe. 

The pout on his lips is barely there, already gotten used to the way his girlfriend earns her money, though he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. Sighing quietly, he closes the door behind him and sits down in the chair at your desk across from the bed. 

You barely watch him, focusing back on the audience. One slap after another is served to your ass, and you yet again make a show out of it by moaning, squirming and wiggling your ass. 

“My butt’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you whine. After the tenth slap, you rub your asscheeks, sighing an ‘and one for good luck.’ With the eleventh slap, you throw the crop aside.

Five minutes turn into fifteen, and with all your attention on the audience, you don't notice the set jaw and furious gaze of your boyfriend, a blaze of jealousy flickering in his eye. At least not until he stands up to approach you. 

Being quick to mute the chat, you turn towards him, sitting on your haunches and looking up at him. A crease has formed between your brows, knowing that you have kept him waiting for too long. 

It’s a fruitless attempt to calm him as you rub the palms of your hands over his thighs, squeezing them just slightly in the way you know he enjoys. 

“I’m not here to waste my time watching you fuck around with other guys,” he remarks coldly. 

The coldness of his voice makes a shiver run down your spine, a contrast to the heat growing between your legs. As your eyes meet his ice-like gaze, you swallow hard. “I know,” you reply, continuing to brush your hands up and down his thighs. “But you know I need to make money, Aem.”

He scoffs at your response. “You can make money in other ways,” he replies, his hands capturing your wrists tight enough to indicate his disapproval. “You don’t need to show off your body for strangers.”

Your heart is racing now, and you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. But you can’t deny that his possessive side only makes you want him more. “But this way is easy,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s quick and pays well… plus, I enjoy it, you know that.”

Aemond’s nostrils flare ever so slightly at your words, his jaw setting firmly. In one fluid motion, he pulls you up on your feet. He’s tall and strong, and his presence looms over yours. “I do,” he says. “But you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

Running your hands over his chest, you take a step closer and press yourself against him, and he uses the proximity to rest a hand at the back of your neck. “And I’ll only ever be yours.” You start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “But this is just a job, Aem. It doesn’t mean anything.”

His expression betrays no emotion as he regards you, but his grip on your neck tightens. “If this doesn’t mean anything, then this won’t bother you at all,” he states, using his grip to force you towards your desk. He pushes you over it, and with you having relocated all your stuff to film the bed, there’s not much left on it that topples onto the ground. 

Your hands fly to the desk to steady yourself upon impact, a gasp leaving your lips. Your heart rate picks up, your blood thrumming with a mixture of arousal and a hint of fear. The sudden manhandling sends a thrill down your spine. “Aemond,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. 

His breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, chest pressing against your back while his arms cage you in. It’s clear he’s the power right now, and it’s making you feel all the more vulnerable under his control. “What?” he asks, his voice soft yet commanding. “Do you want me to stop?”

With your body reacting to his husky voice, your hips press back against his. “No,” you answer softly, looking over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. 

His lips curve into a smug smile. “Good, because I had no intentions of stopping anytime soon,” he replies. Prowling toward the dresser, he grabs the laptop. “This will be the best show they’ve ever seen.”

Several pings! echo off the device, the viewer’s comments filling the chat box with messages you’d die to read right now. Aemond has seen you set everything up plenty of times before, and he knows all too well where to put the laptop so that it doesn’t show anything else than the parts below your faces, and quickly unmutes the chat. 

His outburst is nothing new, he’s confessed his jealousy often enough, but it’s the first time he willingly participates in one of your streams. It’s clear it’s his way to mark his territory, to claim you in front of everyone to show who you belong to, and his possessiveness does little to diminish the fire in your body, the ache between your legs only becoming more prominent. 

His hard bulge presses against your ass as he approaches you again, shoving you against the sturdy desk with his hands gripping your hips. It catches you by surprise and you release a choked moan at it. 

Nimble fingers hook under the thin straps of your thong, pulling it back enough the snaps against your skin have you wincing for real. “You’re even wearing my favorite lingerie, hm?” he taunts, large hands roaming over your asscheeks. “All this for some horny bastards and their dirty money?”

You shiver at his touch and the dominance in his deep voice, too zoned out to give him an answer. His impatience runs thin with how quickly he serves a slap to your ass, palm landing exactly where you have hit yourself before. The pain is sharper, stinging, and causing tears to brim in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Gods, well…” you whimper. “I… I have to make my viewers happy.”

“Is that the only thing you care about?” he challenges. “Making them happy? What about making your boyfriend happy, mh?”

Licking your lips, you look at him from over your shoulder again. “You know you’re the only one I care about,” you breathe out. “Only you.”

Aemond’s hand smooths down your back, his touch gentle but firm. “Do they know you belong to me?” he asks, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Nah, fuck this, go on and tell them now.”

“They… they know I have a boyfriend,” you admit. 

But it’s a sharp slap served to your ass that makes your head snap towards the laptop quickly, taking in a shaky breath before you address whoever’s behind the screen. You merely know them by their usernames, RoguePrince81, MrSunfyre, thereal_heir and so on. “I… I belong to my boyfriend,” you say, your voice clear yet laced with a tremble that betrays your submission to him. “And only him.”

Aemond’s hand runs over your asscheek in response, soothing the stinging pain. “That’s right,” he purrs, the possessive tone evident in his voice. “You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

“All yours,” you whisper, though there doesn’t come a reply from him. You merely hear shuffling coming from behind you, and judging by the haste of the sounds, it’s clear he’s desperate and impatient. Aemond enjoys teasing, and maybe even punishing you, but there always comes the point where he can’t take it anymore himself. 

It’s the elongated groan of him that has you pushing your hips back, growing just as impatient and desperate, and it’s the cue for him to tug the lace of your thong aside, easing two of his fingers inside of you. You moan wantonly at that, yet the stimulation doesn’t last long enough for you to truly enjoy it, fingers withdrawing almost immediately after the intrusion. 

With his fingers coated in your arousal, he smears it over the tip of his cock and therefore mixes it with the few beads of precum. His hand glides up and down his cock with ease, before he eventually aligns the tip with your entrance. Sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of him, you quickly rise on your tiptoes to adapt to his height and make accommodating his size easier, although you’re all but used to it by now. 

A renewed wave of your arousal drips down your thighs at his intrusion, allowing him to slide into you with little to no resistance. As you both moan in unison, yours is slightly muffled by your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, reveling in the slight burn that accompanies the pleasure. 

Aemond seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his hips thrust into you harshly once as a clear warning. Brushing your sweet spot so expertly, you arch your back like a cat, pushing back against him with another muffled moan making its way past your lips.

“Oh, don’t act all shy now,” he coos, his other hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Let them know how good I’m making you feel.”

His words make you nod meekly, and he takes it as a silent invitation to move, the pace starting slow but becoming much more intense in a matter of seconds until he’s recklessly driving his hips into yours. Aemond is always fairly rough with you, but the jealousy and possessiveness do make it even better. 

A breathless gasp falls from your lips in an attempt to catch your breath through his ruthless pounding, and your fists clench around the edge of the desk again, bracing yourself for the way his cock bullies your sweet spot and drives your whole body back and forth.

“Gods, please… use me,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as you are overwhelmed by the different sensations overcoming your body.  

“Fuck,” he groans. “You like that? You like being used by me while those miserable bastards watch you getting split open by my cock, hm?” His words are punctuated by several harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and causing his balls to slap against your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. 

His thighs are heavy as they press into your frame, applying pressure to where your hips meet the edge of the desk. While it hurts, you barely have time to focus on the pain, overwhelmed by the soaring pleasure inside of you. The building tension inside of you spreads through your core, your walls fluttering as furiously as Aemond’s relentless onslaught on your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. 

“Or what?” he taunts. “You’re gonna come for me already?”

Despite him mocking your despair, he pulls your hips back a little and brings his hand down between your legs, dragging his nimble fingers over your clit to give you the last blow that’s meant to push you over the precipice. Every attempt to give him an answer dies in your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure, your mind hazy and your eyes glossy. 

Parting his legs and slightly bending them at the knees, he curls his hips in a manner that all but forces his cock into you at an angle that has stars dancing across your vision, prolonging the intense orgasm that ripples through your core. The tension you hold in your legs from the position causes them to shake uncontrollably, making your body rely on the firm grip of his hand now resting at your hip.  

His own orgasm nears with how forcefully you clench around and convulse all over him, his pace more erratic as he leans down to press his chest flush against your back, pinning you to the desk and planting a searing kiss to the crook of your neck. His thrusts grow sloppier thanks to the position, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fill you deeply enough anymore. 

Bringing his hand from your hair to the wall in front of the desk, the veins in his hand and arms bulge from the exertion. “That’s it,” he rasps into the crook of your neck. “Be a good girl for me and take everything I give you.” 

“Hm-Hm… yes,” you whimper, pushing back against him. Your body is pressed flatly against the wooden surface of the desk, his weight on top of you not allowing you to take any deep breath – yet the throbbing of his cock inside of you definitely makes up for it. 

A strained groan announces his orgasm, muffled by his lips pressed against your skin. A relieved moan leaves your lips as soon as his twitching cock spends itself inside of your still spasming walls. He keeps thrusting into you, though his thrusts become gentler and even slower than before due to his stamina decreasing, eventually stopping.

It’s unlike Aemond to pull out of you so shortly after, and you wince at the sudden loss, your assaulted core clenching around nothing to adjust to the emptiness. Turning your head to look at him, sweaty and heated cheek pressed to the cold desk, you can’t hide the blissed out expression that’s written all over your face. Aemond prowls towards the set up, picking up the laptop with the camera filming nothing but his chest, still heaving with ragged breaths.  

“Now, did you like that?” he asks as he walks back to you again, obviously speaking to the part of your audience that stayed for the show. “Then you’ll definitely love this.” 

Bending forward slightly, he points the camera to your cunt, blessing the viewers with the sight of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt, running down your folds and quivering thighs. You stay still, too focused on the multiple pings! that bounce off the device, indicating that your little show has earned you a big deal of money.

“Is this the kind of cum show you expected, hm? I bet the fuck not.”

He then abruptly shuts the laptop with a thud, carelessly throwing it onto your bed. 

You push yourself back, standing on wobbly feet as you adjust your thong, holding onto the desk. You turn your head to look at him, the smirk on your lips matching the wicked one on his. “You know you’re gonna be a regular now,” you tease. 

“And I thought you’d never ask.”

[kitorin]

dear stranger.

in which, itoshi rin is terrible at keeping promises.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, hurt no comfort (just not from rin himself), childhood friends, unrequited feelings (implied), reader is a year older than rin, a bit of isagi x reader at the end, all word vomit it's past 1 am cut me some slack

a/n. kinda short since my recent fics were so long and i need a break (i have more planned anyways)

For as long as you can remember, Itoshi Rin has always been there.

You were two peas in a pod; inseparable, possessing a bond that no one could ever replicate. You've known each other since birth, and your mothers had been best friends even before you were born.

All four seasons and all year long, you were together. Winter was composed of snow fights, snoozing inside of a kotatsu, with a cup of hot chocolate. Gasping while pointing at the gorgeous cherry blossoms blooming in the spring, eagerly trying to catch the petals dancing with the wind. Splashing and kicking up water at the beach with each other, enjoying refreshing watermelon as you both bask within the warmth of the sunlight. Admiring the crimsons, saffron and golds of Autumn, giggling at the satisfying crunch of leaves lying on the pavement.

Playdates or sleepovers, either way you were both over the moon. Screaming with joy and playing together all day, later scheming to stay up all night to whisper each other every secret (all while making sure Sae sleeps undisturbed), only to pass out an hour or two later.

He's the reason why your childhood was so warm, overflowing with happy memories, the mere thought of him engulfing with you warmth.

You didn't go to the same preschools and daycares, yet you were still each other's bestfriend, and it was going to stay that way forever, if you did start primary a bit earlier than him.

"Mama what do you mean Rin won't come to school?!" The weather perfectly suited your mood, rain hammering against the roof and windows. Five year old you pouted, refusing to believe what you and his mother just announced. In protest you slammed the table, standing up.

"y/n, calm down. Rin's still going to primary as well. Just not at your school." Your mum orders you to sit down, and you obey reluctantly, as she continues throwing ingredients into the hot pot.

"But why?" A disappointed whine leaves your lips. "I want to learn more with Rinnie."

"It's okay." Rin's mother pats your hair, moving it out of your face to prevent it getting into your food. "You'll still be best friends, your mother and I didn't go to the same one either. We even grew up in different towns."

"But I want Rin at my school." Your mum sighs at how stubborn you were being.

"y/n I'll still be your bestfriend, I always will no matter what."

"But what if you find someone else." Your voice begins breaking, and your mother panics as she senses a mental breakdown, noticing early tears beginning to accumulate on your lash line.

Rin holds out his pinky. "I promise! We'll be together until we grow-, no, for the rest of our lives."

You intertwine his pinky with yours, it's so warm and soft, and his dedication makes you grin. "Promise! You're not allowed to break it."

"I swear on my life! You're not allowed to either." Both of you break out into a giggle, which earns a proud 'awwww' from your mothers, with hints of relief subtlety thanking Rin for preventing a mental breakdown from you.

That lunch had to be one of your favourites, Rin and his puppy eyes were adorable, even if his 'promise' lacked honesty and truth.

"Rin." No answer.

"Riiiin." Still no answer.

"Itoshiiii?"

He finally responds. "What?"

"Get off your phone. Talk to me." You frown, wondering what was so interesting that he'd avoid talking to you entirely, despite coming over to your house. So far all he did was remain seated in your chair, eyes focused onto the screen.

"No. It's important. 't's for an upcoming game." He doesn't even look away from his phone.

"Is it stressful? Do you want to talk about i-?"

"Shush."

You don't bother pushing the conversation, if he'd choose it over you it must've been a significant match. You spend the rest of your time reading a book, occasionally glancing at Rin.

Nothing happened.

"So, how's Rin?" Your mother asks before you sleep, doing one last check before heading to her room.

"He's good, really busy with soccer."

"You've been saying that all year. Is soccer all you talk about? What about school? Are his grades alright? How's he adapting to middle school?"

You open your mouth to answer, only to come to a horrible conclusion. You don't know. Rin's the boy you've spent over a decade with, the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

Yet you can't say anything about him, aside for his dedication to soccer, which is something anyone could tell about him.

"Oh yeah! He gets along really well with his teammates, he's doing well." Before your mum suspects anything, you hastily lie, something that's not unrealistic nor concerning enough for your mother to feel the need to check. You force a yawn, hoping your mum stops asking and goes to sleep soon.

Your strategies work, as she quickly wishes you good night, leaving your room. Now you're free to start worrying.

'You've been saying that all year' now that you're finally taking it into consideration, she's right.

Because there's quite literally nothing else to tell her.

You're trying to count, trying to count how many hangouts resulted in him being glued to his phone, only stopping when your parents announce dinner.

Suddenly your lip's quivering, and anxiety blurs your vision as you feel tears gathering in your eyes.

It's still unknown to you why it's taken you forever to notice, but it's like a truck driving into you; heavy and brutal. Now that you've thought about it, you haven't properly hung out in forever, all he does is do something soccer related.

You understand having a passion. Not his cold treatment towards you, the one that was supposed to be his bestfriend.

It's just temporary, a middle school team can't even compare or come close. Rin's current behaviour was merely an attempt to adjust to middle school life, give it a year or two then you'll go back to laughing all day and building sandcastles.

"Seriously? She did that?" Rin's mum almost yells, shocked at the events recounted by your mother.

"Shhhh. Rin's sleeping."

"Poor thing... must be tired from training all the time."

You walk into the conversation halfway, blanket in hand, making your way to Rin's resting figure on the bean bag.

Gosh, he looks stunning.

His defined jaw, long eyelashes adorning his face, his bangs which rested right above his eyes, everything about him looked perfect, even if he was sleep. Even his lips look kissable in this state. You ignore that thought and carry on with what you were doing.

You're gentle and careful, ensuring you don't move the bean bag and draping your blanket over him. There's concern clouding your heart, the other day only his mum came over, apparently he had stayed home to sleep all day. You prayed his sleep schedule was okay, as you went to join your mum.

"C'mon eat more." Rin's mum smiles, she completely contrasts Rin, warm and welcoming. "Thank you for always being so nice to him. You're only a year old yet you're so much more mature. He's really lucky to have you."

If only Rin thought that. If only this 'friendship' continued because of him, instead of the close friendship between your mothers.

Your attempts to figure out what happened were fruitless, almost instantly being dismissed.

If only soccer didn't take over his life, no, if only you had stuck together during your education.

You feel so foolish, the overwhelming guilt strangling you won't go away, not even both of your mothers believe you're still bestfriends, little do they know Rin doesn't see you that way anymore. You're now essentially just strangers now,

If only he kept that stupid pinky promise.

"So Rin was that kind of person." Yoichi hums, still staring at the picture that was hidden in your desk. It's the two of you during the peak of what was supposed to be an eternal friendship, where you had an arm tightly wrapped around him. Even over a decade later you see it as a way to rub salt into the wound.

"Yeah." It wasn't easy but you ended up explaining you and Rin to your boyfriend, Yoichi. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Merely talking about him replicates the pain of that night, when you realized how truly meaningless you are to him.

"Hey." He's quick to notice your discomfort, wrapping his arms around you, lovingly patting your back. "It's okay." He whispers in your ear.

"It's not your fault."

That's what made you lose it, a choked cry and tears now streaming down your cheeks.

All this time you've been questioning if you were ever worth loving, all because someone who claimed to stay by your side forever disappeared so easily.

"It's okay, everything's okay." He continues to repeat. "I'm right here, okay? Let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."

You cling onto him, like a child. It was almost embarrassing to behave this way, weeping over someone who's probably forgotten you by now.

"'m sorry- I shouldn't be upse-"

"No. Don't treat yourself like that." Yoichi refuses to listen to anything negative about you, and that includes anything self deprecating. He carries you to your bed, placing you down gently, and joining you. Yoichi peppers you with light kisses, warmth ghosting over your face.

And he's right. You had every right to be hurt to this day. He was your bestfriend, your other half, and Rin himself took that all away from you heartlessly. The least he could've done was at least express that he wanted nothing to do with you.

"I promise you, I'm going to destroy him during our next game. I don't care if we're on the same team, I'm scoring more goals than him no matter what. No one deserves to treat you like that." Yoichi goes for a deeper kiss this time, rough, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. "Don't even think about saying you weren't good enough for Rin. You're perfect." Even after pouring your heart out and bawling because of it, you can't help but smile.

You're finally coming to terms with it, that the Rin who you'd play tag with along the graceful shores of Kamakura, was now a mere stranger to you, one that you'll hold dear to your heart.

tagging. @kiyumiya

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[karatekels]

Okay so this one's inspired by your latest work🤭.

What do you think about an enemies to lovers kinda gig with kk3 Terry 👀

The reader is an employee at Dynatox, she's the best they have, other than Margaret of course. But she doesn't like him😏

He obviously finds it rather interesting that someone isn't quite charmed by him for once. A good game of cat and mouse and eventually she'd fall for him,but not after pushing his buttons at some event he's hosting. Maybe entertaining some guy for the time being to see the jealousy pour out of Terry...

I love love love your writing so this one was hard to resist 🤍

Ooooh, this one is fun! Thanks for the request, and I hope you enjoy! It's a long one, friends, so BUCKLE UP.

TW: Very inappropriate workplace relationships, rough sex, spanking, dirty talk, Terry being a possessive, controlling asshole (we love him for it)

Also, I will only half-apologize for using the “gay friend pretends to be boyfriend” trope, because *I know* that it’s a horrible cliché but I couldn’t resist.

---

Cat & Mouse

---

“Y/N, Mr. Silver wants to see the Cambodia report,” your assistant tells you, sticking her head into your office.

“It’s in the filing cabinet, second drawer,” you respond, not looking up from your desk. You had enough on your plate, and this was what assistants were for, after all. You still feel her eyes on you from the doorway after a moment, and look up at her expectantly. She hesitates.

“He asked for you specifically, Y/N,” she adds, and you suppress the urge to roll your eyes.

“Of course he did,” you mutter, taking a calming breath. “Thank you, Jess,” you add, dismissing her with a smile, which you drop the instant she closes the door.

Your boss, Terry Silver, did this every so often, asking you to do things outside of your job description so he would have an excuse to pester you. It wasn’t overt enough to be flirting, but it was insistent to the point of getting annoying. You were here to work, and you were damn good at your job; you hadn’t come to a company like Dynatox to be eye candy for the boss.

Dynatox was always ranked among the top of Fortune 500 companies, and you knew that continuing to work your way up the ranks here would open all kinds of doors for you. It wasn’t as if you didn’t like your job – you loved it, and you were good at it, and if your boss would just let you be it would be an ideal position. If he could just stop with the teasing…

He likely wasn’t even actually interested in you; people like him – rich, attractive, successful – were just used to everyone fawning all over them, throwing themselves at them, and he was likely just put out that you didn’t have time for that bullshit. It was all probably just a cat and mouse game to him, and so he had decided to do what all children do when they don’t get what they want: pester, and prod, and tease, the equivalent of pulling on your pigtails in the schoolyard.

Fortunately, you were a professional, and had thus far been able to maintain a no-nonsense approach when it came to responding to his flirting, all while remaining respectful. He couldn’t be annoyed at your refusal to play along with his dumb little games.

Sighing, you retrieve the needed file from the cabinet and make for Mr. Silver’s office, just wanting to get this over with. Approaching the door, you knock twice, stepping inside after his “Come in!” and pointedly leaving the door open. This would be a quick delivery; no funny business.

He’s lounging in his office chair, feet on his desk, crossed at the ankles, casually looking over a file in his lap as though he hadn’t expected you to walk into his office. He looks up at you after a moment, smiling brightly at you, tossing the file onto his desk carelessly.

“If it isn’t Miss L/N! How’s my favourite employee?” he asks cheekily. You bite the inside of your cheek.

What a fucking schmuck.

“I have the Cambodia report for you, Mr. Silver,” you reply, ignoring his greeting. Approaching the desk, you slap the file down next to his polished shoes. He picks up the file, unperturbed by your clear annoyance, and lazily peruses it while you stand there, silently seething.

“Will that be all, Mr. Silver?” you ask, trying not to grind your teeth. He holds up a finger, not taking his eyes off of the document. You think you can see a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips and immediately start calculating your anticipated bonus check for the end of the year in your head, needing a distraction to prevent yourself from leaning over the desk and slapping his stupid, perfectly sculpted face. Why did the worst people seem to have all the luck?

Nodding once, he snaps the file shut, extending it towards you with a smirk. You move to take it from him, but he doesn’t let it go.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” he asks, blue eyes twinkling at you. His flirting had become outright brazen lately, and you briefly wonder if HR would even bother with a sexual misconduct case against the Big Man himself. You doubted it.

“Yes, Mr. Silver,” you lie, tugging the file out of his hands. “I need to finish on time today,” you add pointedly, and he smiles placatingly at you.

“Very well then. Thank you Y/N, that will be all,” he dismisses you. You turn on your heel and leave his office without another word, grumpy that he had wasted your time in order to ogle you yet again.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry takes the time to check you out as you all but storm out of his office, his eyes running from your high heels up your toned calves to where your legs disappeared into your pencil skirt, grinning wolfishly at your back.

God, he loved riling you up.

You had been with the company for two years now, working your way up the corporate ladder, but he had only been introduced to you a few months ago, when you’d been promoted to the point that you would be working on the same floor as him. He had heard your name before, of course, as everyone praised your work ethic and talent, but he hadn’t been told that you were fine as hell, especially in your tight skirts.

He had wanted you immediately, going out of his way to call you into his office at the earliest opportunity for a casual “introduction to the boss.”

He had been incredibly charming, planning on reeling you in by that single meeting alone, and he knew that you were aware of his intentions, but you brushed him off, seemingly unaffected by his flirting.

Initially, he had been baffled.

He was Terry Silver, international playboy extraordinaire. He was rich, handsome, successful, charming… he was the whole package, and you had dismissed him without a second thought, your face impassive except for the raising of one elegant eyebrow, asking him if that would be all.

Fuck no, that wouldn’t be all. He had far more in store for you, and he intended to get to work at the earliest opportunity.

The more he pursued, the more determined you were to refuse him, and it was starting to drive him batty. There had been a few nights at home, high out of his mind on cocaine, where he debated just taking you, wanting you out of his system by any means necessary. But no, you also had to be an exemplary employee, and he knew from experience just how hard those were to find.

Was it so much to ask for you to pull double-duty, working hard for the company and letting him work you hard on your time off? Terry didn’t think so.

So, he had been biding his time somewhat, settling for increasingly salacious flirting at the office, making excuses to be in your presence as often as possible. And damn but if he didn’t start to actually like you; your sarcasm and quick wit making him actually look forward to seeing the fire in your eyes as he came onto you yet again.

Yes, the chase had become quite fun… but the time had come for the predator to snatch up his prey.

He needed a way to get you to loosen up around him, somewhere where you couldn’t use work as an excuse to escape him.

Terry presses the intercom on his desk, summoning Margaret into his office.

They had some planning to do.

--- Reader’s POV ---

The office is abuzz the next day as you arrive to work, and it has you on edge immediately. People excitable at a company like Dynatox was never a good sign. Was it another lawsuit? Some scandal at one of their competitors? Deciding not to try to guess the source of the gossip, you walk to your office to get to work; it would find its way to you eventually.

Sure enough, your assistant sticks her head in your office within the first hour of the day.

“Y/N! Did you hear?” Jess exclaims excitedly, looking mildly annoyed by the blank stare you give her in response. “Ahh, check your mail and read the memo from Mr. Silver! It’s going to be great!”

Sighing, you pull the stack of papers out of the “incoming” basket for mail on your desk, flipping through until you come to the memo, printed in glossy colour. Skimming it quickly, you see that Mr. Silver has announced a mandatory gala for all employees the weekend after next, to celebrate the success of the company.

So now you were going to have to come in on the weekend and deal with his crap? Lovely.

There was a post-it note stuck to the bottom of the memo.

See you there. – T.S.

Seething, you crumple the note in your palm, tossing it into the bin. You half-believed this party was just some scheme to further annoy you. It was ridiculous to think so, but the man was ridiculously persistent, and you wouldn’t put it past him. What was it going to take for him to finally drop it and leave you alone?

You move to toss the flyer away, but text at the bottom – previously covered by the Post-It – catches your eye.

Those who wish to bring a guest should RSVP to Margaret as soon as possible.

You bite your tongue to fight back what would have been a particularly wicked grin. Bingo.

Sticking your head out of your office door, you tell Jess that you were taking an important call and were not to be disturbed, closing the door firmly behind you.

You had some planning to do.

---

Your scheming had gone on for longer than you had anticipated, so you had had to stay late at the office to finish your work, but you were now finally ready to go home. You were exhausted, but it had been worth it; you were almost looking forward to the party now.

You head into the elevator, enjoying that you were the only one that stuck around this late and could breathe comfortably for once in the normally cramped space. That is, until a large, bejeweled hand appears between the nearly-closed doors, causing them to open again.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Mr. Silver looms in the doorway, smiling down at you before striding into the elevator, standing far closer to you than necessary in the otherwise empty space. You tense up, but don’t take the bait, standing your ground.

“Hey, Y/N! Wow, you’re here late – burning the midnight oil?” He quips, irritatingly chipper for this time of night.

“Yes, Mr. Silver, I had a few loose ends to tie up,” you respond, trying to keep the smirk out of your voice.

“It’s dedication like that that makes this company so successful,” he replies cheerily. You nod tightly in response, wishing for the first time you hadn’t worked your way up to such a high-up office. The elevator was taking forever.

“That’s why I couldn't help but put on the gala next weekend,” he continues, clearly goading you. You feel his gaze at the back of your head, but stubbornly refuse to turn around. “I hope you’re excited!”

With only a couple floors to go, you can’t resist the opportunity to wipe what is most assuredly a shit-eating grin off the man’s face. You turn to face him, giving him a beaming smile that definitely takes him by surprise.

“Absolutely, Mr. Silver,” you say, forcing every shred of enthusiasm you can muster into your tone. “Me and my date will see you there, boss!”

The elevator doors open at the perfect time, and you turn to exit, walking away without another word to the man, fighting the urge to turn around and see his reaction. You’d have the chance to appreciate it at the gala.

--- Terry’s POV ---

Terry broods in the back of the limo on the way home, trying not to bite the end off his cigar in his anger. A date? There was no way. He regularly paid employees to feed him gossip, asking several in particular to get information about you from your assistant; the girl was an open book. She had never mentioned you being in a relationship; you had told her you were focused on your career. Had you lied to her? You didn’t seem the type, but then, you were a private person.

He had a couple of weeks to get to the bottom of this – and he would get to the bottom of this – and was more than willing to spend the necessary resources finding out who this other man was, if he even existed. Terry Silver was not threatened by competition, but he didn’t enjoy being out of the loop.

“Margaret, take a note,” he requests, exhaling smoke from his cigar. The woman, poised to help as ever, clicks her pen.

“Get a group of PIs together. I want them watching Y/N L/N from tomorrow until the gala. Look for any men she speaks to for more than a cup of coffee and get me background checks on them.”

“Yes, Mr. Silver,” she replies, keeping judgement out of her tone as always. That was the main difference between Margaret and you, he realized; well, apart from Margaret practically being a surrogate aunt to him. You were both excellent employees, but while she easily removed her own opinions and feelings on his business dealings from her work, you were a firecracker, barely able to keep yourself from blowing up at him at every opportunity. He did so want to push you over the edge, in every way he could…

Terry takes another drag of his cigar, satisfied. A lover didn’t present a threat to him; he’d just find out what it would take to get rid of him – money, blackmail, a good, old-fashioned beatdown. You’d be his by the end of the gala.

He’d make sure of it.

---

A week has passed since he put the order out, and so far nothing had come of it. You had barely left your house other than to work, and he’d had people stationed outside your home 24/7. No one had come or gone beyond the odd deliveryman. You hadn’t been seen out in public with any men beyond the odd family member, either. He was now convinced that the man in question didn’t exist, and finds himself surprised at your tactics. He figured that if you had thought making up a boyfriend would be enough to deter him – it wouldn’t – that you would have done so by now, and you hadn’t.

Surely you knew him better than that by now, didn’t you? He’d be disappointed otherwise.

There are a few days left before the gala, and he uses them to poke the bear further, seeing if he can get you to admit that there is no mystery man in your life.

On Wednesday afternoon, he shows up himself at your office door, not even trying to be subtle about pursuing you anymore. Everyone else knew to get out of his way and leave him to his antics. Boss’s orders.

“Y/N, sorry to drop this on you last minute, but I need this taken care of by the end of the day, alright?” he says in his best innocent voice, dropping a stack of file folders on your desk. You don’t look up at him or respond right away, but he sees your grip on your pen tighten, and smirks.

You look up at him after a long moment, your face a neutral mask. “Yes, Mr. Silver,” you reply, not giving him anything. Breaking you was going to be so much fun…

“I hope that staying late doesn’t interfere with a hot date with your man or anything,” he adds, unable to resist pushing you on the subject.

“No, not tonight,” you reply absently, looking through the stack of papers he’d tossed your way. He decides to drop the matter there, and turns to leave.

“We’re looking forward to blowing off some steam the night of the gala,” you call out when his back is turned, your voice deliberately husky, and his back stiffens. You were such a fucking tease…

He leaves your office without another word, immediately making plans to go to the dojo and blow off some steam of his own.

--- Reader’s POV ---

You finally get your hair just perfect, managing to look both elegant and sexy as it cascades down your shoulders. You’d been at it for what felt like forever, but you were finally ready: hair half up and curled, smoky makeup, a pair of pumps, and a deep red dress that made you feel like sin personified.

You had had a great time messing with Terry over the past couple of weeks, really laying it on thick the closer to the event you got. His visible frustration at your insistence that you had a boyfriend had been amusing, and there had been a couple of times where you were briefly worried you had pushed him a bit too far with your teasing. Hopefully after tonight, he would get the message and leave you be. You were almost regretting it; giving the man a taste of his own medicine had made work downright enjoyable.

There’s a knock at the door, and you head over to greet your “date” for the evening. You open the door, revealing your friend Mark, looking dashing as always as he leans against the doorframe, a small bouquet of roses in hand. You take him in with your eyes: tanned skin, short curly hair, deep brown eyes, in a perfectly fitted black suit with a shirt that matched your dress, the first few buttons undone.

“Well hellooo, gorgeous,” he purrs, and you roll your eyes at him, tugging him into a hug and laying a kiss on his cheek.

“We’re not there yet, Mark, you don’t need to start with that yet,” you laugh, pulling him inside.

“I figured I’d practice now, make it more convincing,” he jokes, grinning at you like a loon. You and Mark had met in college, in an elective theatre class, and had bonded right away over your love of wine and beautiful men, and had been friends ever since. He had spent many nights passed out on your couch, and you were happy to finally call in one of the (many) favours he owed you by having him play your boyfriend for the evening.

“Thank you again for doing this,” you tell him earnestly. You knew he would play the part perfectly, and he had been on board from your first phone call to him when the gala had first been announced.

“Are you kidding? Acting out gay cliches is what I live for!” he quips. “But really, run me through this again; I don’t want to fuck up.”

You rattle off the plan again: he would wait at a distance for Terry to approach you when you were alone – you had no doubt that he would – and then swoop in, all good looks and dazzling charm, acting like you were the perfect couple for the evening, doing your best to assure your boss that pursuing you was a pointless endeavour.

“Just keep your wits about you, alright? This guy is a sneaky bastard, and ridiculously persistent.”

“Oh, to be pursued endlessly by a wealthy man,” Mark laments, and you snort at him. “What’s this guy look like? How will I know who I'm looking for?”

“Tall, ponytail, annoying; you won’t be able to miss him,” you rattle off. “Oh, I know!”

Walking over to the coffee table, you pick up the most recent copy of Time magazine, flipping through it to the article on Dynatox. “Here, this is him,” you offer the magazine to Mark, pointing to the glossy photographs of the man in question. He whistles lowly.

“Damn, he’s fit. Why are you rejecting him again?” he asks, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t care if he’s Eros in the flesh,” you snap. “He’s pretentious, he’s annoying, and he thinks he’s entitled to anyone he bats an eye at.” Mark puts his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright! Sorry I asked. You ready to go?” You nod at him, making for the door, but he doesn’t follow. You look over your shoulder to see him staring at the magazine on the table, his lips quirked.

“What?” you demand, narrowing your eyes at him.

“You sure found that page fast,” he comments, tapping the magazine with a finger. “Flip to it a lot?” he asks innocently.

“Shut up, Mark.”

“Uh-huh. So, do you think your boss may be hitting on you because he’s compensating for something? Closeted homosexuality, perhaps?” he asks in a hopeful tone. You can’t help but laugh at this, pushing him out the door towards the cab.

---

The massive main lobby of Dynatox’s building had been done up to the nines for the event, looking even more opulent than usual, and you find yourself taking in the view as you enter on Mark’s arm, despite walking through this very room nearly every day for years now.

Mark helps you out of your coat, ever the gentleman, folding it over his arm to go to the coat check. He leans in to whisper in your ear, making sure to look particularly intimate as he does so. Mark did nothing halfway – much like another handsome man in your life…

“I’ll go check this and then find somewhere to wait in the wings. Go look gorgeous and knock him dead, love!” He kisses your cheek with a smile, disappearing into the growing crowd, and you can’t help but blush, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

You find a large, marble pillar to lean up against with a glass of wine, surveying the crowd and trying to appear natural. Sure enough, it doesn’t take long before you are approached by the man himself.

“Good evening, Y/N. So wonderful to see you,” croons a voice from behind you, and you suppress a shiver, turning to look up at Terry, dressed in a stunning tuxedo. You pointedly keep your eyes on his face.

“Hello, Mr. Silver. Happy to be here,” you reply sweetly, peering up at him over the rim of your wine glass.

“And where is this man I’ve heard so much about?” he asks with obvious fake interest. You resist the urge to smirk. This was going perfectly.

“Oh, just checking my coat,” you say dismissively, waving your hand in the vague direction Mark had left in. “And what about you? Do you have a date for this evening?”

“Oh yes, my woman is here,” he doesn’t miss a beat, his eyes locked with yours. You feel your face heat at his implication.

“Oh, wonderful! Make sure that you introduce me at so–”

Your remark is cut off as an arm wraps around you, a body pressing up against you from behind.

“Boo,” Mark says lowly in your ear, and you giggle, letting him pull you to his side with an arm firmly around your waist. You press your body into his, kissing his cheek, pleased to see Terry looking appropriately flabbergasted at the appearance of your, ahem, lover.

“I’ve been looking all over for you, darling,” Mark purrs, loudly enough to make sure that Terry hears.

“Sorry, honey! I got caught up talking to my boss,” you reply, making sure to emphasize his role. “Mark, this is Terry Silver. Mr. Silver, this is my boyfriend Mark,” you introduce the two, watching them exchange what looks to be a needlessly firm handshake. Fortunately, Mark holds his own. You could kiss him for how well he was playing this, giving Terry a look as though he was sizing him up as competition.

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Silver,” he grins at the man, making it clear he doesn’t perceive him as a threat. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to steal my woman away for a dance!”

He takes your empty wine glass and reaches past Terry to place it on a table, pulling you away from him and over to the dance floor without another word to the man. You wrap your arms around his neck, and he rests his forehead on yours as you sway to the music.

“You are a wonderful, devious man,” you praise him quietly, smiling brilliantly and he beams at you, twirling you around before pulling you back into his arms.

“If only my “tall, dark, and handsomeness” could help me win over my own “taller, darker, and handsomer” man,” he replies wistfully, and you see him glancing over your shoulder, presumably at Terry. You grin up at him.

“We’ll make that our next project, darling,” you promise, laughing at your use of the pet name. “Seriously though, thank you. I could kiss you for how well you played that back there.”

Mark sighs dramatically. “For the cause,” he murmurs in a self-sacrificing tone, leaning down to kiss you gently, holding you closer.

Neither of you feel the wave of absolute rage that radiates out of Terry Silver’s rigid form.

--- Terry’s POV ---

The elevator doors open to the deserted top floor of Dynatox Industries, Terry stepping out and stalking to his office at the far end of the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

How the fuck had this happened?

He’d had you tailed for days, and not once had that prick shown his fucking face anywhere near you. None of his sources inside the building had ever heard you mention a Mark. Where the fuck had he come from?

The fax machine in the corner starts making noise, and he moves over to it, seeing that the PIs had sent over photographs of this guy picking you up for tonight. Oh, now they find him. Terry flips through the black and white shots of you embracing the man, laughing with him, kissing his cheek.

He’s torn the pictures to shreds before he even thinks about doing it, seeing red.

How long had you been together? Had he fucked you yet? You were meant to be his.

He walks over to the globe in the corner, spinning it to open the bar hidden inside, and quickly pours himself a shot of whiskey, then another. He had to calm down.

He had planned for this, for the event that your lover ended up being real, after all. Get the man alone, find out what made him tick, and send him on his way, leaving you in his far more capable hands. He would have you tonight, of that he was certain.

The alcohol settling his nerves, and restoring his confidence, Terry returns to the party, determined to put his plan in action.

Sticking to the sidelines or pretending to listen to the inane chatter other employees came to bother him with, his eyes are always on the two of you. Every touch between you, every laugh Mark draws out of you, he tallies them all up in his head, determined to make you pay for them at some point. Finally, you part ways from your little paramour, heading for the Ladies’ Room, while your partner makes his way to the bar.

Terry closes in on the man, waiting for him to retrieve his drink before all but backing him into a corner, using every bit of his size to appear effortlessly intimidating. Mark gives him a look up and down, and his lips quirk, but he appears unfazed.

“So where did you and Y/N meet?” Terry asks, as though they’d been in the middle of a conversation this whole time.

“College.”

“Which college was that again?”

“UC Berkeley.” Damn, he was telling the truth about that; he’d looked over your CV again recently, nearly having it memorized at this point. He’d find something, some slip up he can use against the man to get him out of here…

“And how long have you been together?”

“Almost a year now; we got together on Valentine’s Day; horribly sappy, I know,” the man jokes, and a flash of you, naked on a bed covered in rose petals flashes in Terry’s mind. He gnashes his teeth.

“She’s really something,” he continues, having clearly had quite a bit to drink. “Completely insatiable – I’ve been over at her place every night this week!”

Terry is about to reach over and break the man’s neck with his bare hands, when something suddenly clicks in his head.

No man had visited you any night this week; he’d made sure of it.

This man was lying, and he had no reason to lie to Terry unless you had put him up to it. You weren’t dating this man at all, he realizes. You crafty little minx…

Terry steps closer to the other man, suddenly all smiles.

“What will it take for you to admit that this is all a ruse, huh?”

The man valiantly tries to keep up the act for a moment, but eventually breaks eye contact with Terry, laughing quietly.

“What gave us away?”

“Don’t worry about that, just know that I know.”

The man snorts, polishing off his drink. “God, you’re as cocky and proud as Y/N. Don’t know why you both don��t just cut the bullshit already, since you’re apparently soooo smart.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Terry asks the man, impatient. Now that the charade was up, he seemed to have loose lips, the alcohol going right to his head. You would be furious if you found out he had betrayed you… Terry smirks at the thought.

“You both clearly want to fuck each other; I don’t know why you don’t just get to it.” Really now…

“What makes you say that?” Terry asks, crossing his arms and staring the man down.

“Don’t worry about that, just know that I know,” Mark repeats mockingly, parroting Terry’s words back at him.

“Fine,” Terry snaps, sensing he won’t get much more of substance out of the man. “What will it take for you to drop the act and leave her to me?” He’s all business once more, already reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. Mark waves a hand at him dismissively.

“Don’t worry about that; I’ve got my eye on something over at the bar,” he purrs, looking over to the bartender with lust in his eyes. Well, that settled that then.

Now to find a way to get you alone…

Terry approaches one of his favourite gossip-mongers, reaching for his wallet once more.

--- Reader’s POV ---

“Y/N, there you are!” A voice cuts through the crowd as you re-enter the lobby, scanning the room for Mark. You’d caught Terry staring at the pair of you several times throughout the night, but he had finally seemed to leave off. Probably off tending to his bruised ego, you think to yourself, brushing away the slight pang of guilt. You wanted to find Mark and get out of here, having fulfilled your mission for the night.

The woman who had called your name approaches you – Alice, you think her name was. She was a newer employee, and apparently a notorious gossip, so you had avoided her the best you could.

“Yes?” you ask, still craning your neck to look for your date.

“Could you do me the hugest favour? I accidentally put a file on your desk that was meant for Marissa, and she’ll kill me if it isn’t on her desk first thing Monday morning. Would you mind moving it for me?” she begs. You groan internally, but know that not doing this for her could have you branded as the “Office Bitch,” and you really didn’t need any more drama at work. Giving her a fake smile, you reassure her you’ll get right to it, and make for the elevator. The sooner you did this, the sooner you could go home.

The elevator doors open on your floor and you make for your office, noting with brief annoyance that the cleaning staff have closed the blinds despite your repeated requests to leave them open. Finding your keys, you unlock your door, flicking the light on and making your way to your desk with a sigh. You look over everything, but nothing is on it that you hadn’t put there yourself.

Where the hell was this file?

The door to your office closes loudly behind you, and you turn to see Terry Silver leaning against it casually, but his eyes are blazing. Your heart rate takes off immediately, and you gasp, your hand going to your throat.

“Looking for something?” he asks, and you start to feel very claustrophobic, very quickly.

“Yes, Alice came and asked me to look for something in here,” you explain slightly breathlessly, cursing the woman in your head with everything you had. “But I can’t find it, so I think Mark and I will just head home.”

“Is that so?” he questions, an amused tone to his voice that you don’t like.

“Yes, so if you’ll excuse me…” you trail off pointedly.

He doesn’t move away from the door.

“Mark was trying to convince the bartender to go home with him when I left him,” Terry informs you, and your blood feels like it freezes in your veins. He knew you had played him.

You open your mouth to make an excuse, a snarky comment, to say anything, but nothing comes out. Terry is staring at you with a smirk, the air around the two of you thick with tension.

“I think you’ve done enough toying with me, don’t you?” he asks innocently, slowly stepping towards you. “It’s my turn.”

You manage to convince your feet to back away from him, moving to keep your desk between you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you lie, trying to keep your voice and your body from shaking.

“You don’t know what I’m talking about?” Terry mocks, coming up to the desk and laying his palms on it, leaning across it towards you. Your eyes follow his hands, and looking just past them, you see he’s rock hard. You bite back a whimper of desire.

“Don’t even think about it, Terry Silver.” You’re relatively pleased with the way you growl out the threat, but he doesn’t seem fazed. He straightens up slowly, giving you a wide smile, and without moving his eyes from yours sweeps everything off your desk to the ground with one fluid motion of his arm.

“Get on the desk,” he requests in a calm, quiet voice, as though he was asking you to hand him a piece of mail. A jolt of pleasure moves from the butterflies in your stomach down to your clit. You scowl at him, refusing to give in.

“Bite me, you arrogant, entitled asshole,” you snarl at him, and he smiles at you patronizingly, but his eyes harden.

“Get on the desk or I will throw you on the desk,” he warns, and your knees nearly buckle at the dominant tone in his voice. You force yourself to walk a wide berth around him and your desk, suddenly hating your favourite pair of pumps as you make your way for the door.

“Even if I did want you,” you hiss back at him, though you both know that you do, “I’m not just going to let you treat me like some obedient little puppet that you can just –”

He reaches out and snatches your arm in his large hand, yanking you between him and the desk. Bending you back against it, he tangles a hand in your hair, keeping you at an awkward angle you couldn’t squirm out of and attacking your lips in a punishing kiss.

You let out a growl of indignation against his lips, reaching up to roughly grab his ponytail, trying to pull him off you, kissing him back fiercely all the while. When that fails to get a reaction out of him you try to shove him off you, your hands pushing on his broad shoulders with all your might until he seems to get annoyed, moving his hands out of your hair and away from your waist to snatch up your wrists, bending you fully to lay back against the desk and pinning your hands above your head with ease.

You snarl, and he nips your lower lip, running his tongue along yours in a way that has you moaning, your toes curling. He doesn’t let up until you’re both dizzy from lack of oxygen, pulling you upright into his arms before breaking the kiss. You both pant heavily, tasting each other in the air as you catch your breath.

“Get on the desk, little hellcat,” he murmurs, his eyes dark with lust.

“Go fuck yourself,” you snap back at him, and he gives you a wicked smile.

“Fine, we’ll do this the fun way,” he replies, seemingly unperturbed by the insult. He flips you over and bends you over the desk before you can say or do anything else, grinding against you through your clothes with a hand in your hair, pinning you down again. You fight back a moan as you buck your hips back against him, your eyes rolling back into your head at the feel of him. The way this man set your whole body on fire…

You feel his hand leave your hair and stay put, focusing on using your grip on the edge of the desk to give you leverage to grind against him at a better angle. He lets out a growl of approval, his hands moving down to your thighs, lifting your tight skirt over your hips, kneading your ass in a way that has you crying out for him. You can feel him smirking at your response, the arrogant bastard…

He slides his hands from your ass up the sides of your body, pulling you up against him, kneading your breasts roughly over your dress.

“What was that, hmm?” he asks patronizingly, nibbling your ear. “What was that noise I just heard from you?”

“I hate you,” you growl out, pressing your ass against his hard cock through his pants, desperate for friction, for him… and you’d bite your tongue clean off before you asked for it.

“I can’t believe you ever managed to pull a fast one on me; you’re a terrible liar,” he purrs against your skin, running his lips along your shoulder, his hands tugging your dress down and baring your breasts. You squirm in his clutches as his fingers move to your nipples, switching between feather-light teasing and pinching in a way that has you clutching the edge of your desk, your nails digging into the wood. You would not make another sound.

“Last chance. All you have to do is hop up on your desk like a good girl and I’ll give you exactly what you want, Y/N,” he tells you teasingly. Your hands go to your chest, trying to slap his hands away from you, and he’s got you bent back over your desk in an instant, your now-tender nipples pressed against the wood hard enough to sting.

“Alright, you’ll beg for it, then,” he says, completely unbothered by your resistance, nudging your legs apart with his knee. Your thighs tremble in anticipation.

“Never,” you growl, one cheek pressed against the wood. Your panties are tugged down your legs, and then his fingers are at your entrance, teasing you, coating two of his fingers in your juices before reaching just above and stroking your clit masterfully.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” Terry groans in your ear, and you debate banging your head into the desk to distract yourself from the overwhelming lust that’s clouding your every thought. It would probably just make matters worse at this point.

“Were you this wet when you were thinking up your little plans for tonight, you fucking cocktease?” he continues, pumping two fingers into your pussy as he moves his thumb to your clit, unrelenting. You’re close already, and you’re furious about it, biting your lip until it bleeds in your desperation to keep quiet.

“Didn’t work out the way you thought it would, did it Y/N?” he taunts, curling his fingers inside you. You slam your hand over your mouth to muffle your screams as you come around his fingers. He snatches your wrist, pulling your hand away and catching the tail end of your moans. He observes the drops of crimson on your fingers with a calculated expression, pulling you upright and turning you to face him.

“Stubborn hellcat,” he murmurs fondly, holding your chin in his iron grip so that he can survey the damage you’ve done to your lip. Leaning forward, he sucks your lower lip into your mouth, lapping the blood with his tongue, and a violent shudder goes through you as you see him lick your blood off of his lips.

“Still not going to give in, huh?” he asks, cocking his head to the side as he takes in your murderous expression. “You’re going to at some point tonight, doll. I’m going to have you begging for my cock, and then I’m going to fuck that tight little hole until you can’t walk straight.”

“Terry!” you cry out, half in need and half in shock at his filthy language. He actually shudders, his eyes rolling back in his head briefly.

“Fuck, you sound so good when you’re screaming my name,” he growls, reaching for his belt. “I’m going to hear it a lot tonight.”

“Like hell you… will…” You start out angrily, but as he pulls his cock out, you find your mouth going dry, your train of thought completely evaporating from your mind. The smug grin he levels you with has you feeling both defeated and desperate to have him. You lick your lips, and a noise of approval emanates from somewhere deep in his chest, catching the depraved motion as you stare lustfully at his cock, your dress bunched up around your waist.

“Ask me to fuck you, Y/N,” he commands, and you cling to your last shred of resolve, stubbornly not replying.

“I suppose I could just come all over this pretty dress,” he says as if truly contemplating the idea, pumping his hand up and down his shaft. Why did he have to rile you up all the time?

“It just seems like such a waste when I should be coming inside your tight little cunt, pumping you full of m–”

“FINE!” you shriek, glaring daggers at him, hopping up on your desk. “I want you, Terry Silver! I want you to fuck me hard with that hard cock on my desk like I’m the office slut! Just shut the fuck up and do it already!”

He flashes a wicked grin at you, and between one blink and the next is perfectly positioned between your thighs, his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Was that so hard?” he asks innocently, and you let out a cry of frustration, trying to pull his hips closer to yours.

“Oh, now you’re stalling? Do you even know what you’re doing, you stupi–”

He thrusts into you in one motion, your insult dying in your throat and being replaced by a wanton moan as he sets a brutal pace.

“Damn defiant little tease,” he growls, his hips pumping hard and deep as he stares down at your body, tits bouncing for him from the force of his thrusts. “You thought you could get away from me, huh? After mouthing off at me in your tight little skirts for months, acting like you didn’t want me to take you like you deserve?”

“YEEESSS!” you wail, clinging to the desk for dear life as he pounds into you, giving you the hardest, roughest fucking of your life.

“You’re not gonna make that mistake again, are you, my little hellcat?” he demands, his fingernails digging into your hips as he pins you down against the desk. You would feel this tomorrow – probably for the next week – and you know that that’s his intention.

“No, Terry! Fuck!” you whine out desperately, creaming around his cock as you climax a second time. He shows no signs of slowing down, let alone stopping, merely lifting your legs up, throwing them over his shoulder and taking you even deeper.

“That’s right,” he growls, spanking you hard. “What are you going to do the next time I call you into my office, huh?” He spanks you again after you’re too incoherent to respond. “Tell me!” he commands you, reaching a hand down your body to wrap around your throat. You arch up against him desperately, clawing into his forearm, feeling like you were going to pass out from the overstimulation.

“Fuck, Terry, I don’t know! Bend over your desk, get on my knees, whatever you want, just please don’t stop!” you whine, digging your heels into his back.

“Good girl,” he purrs, leaning down to kiss you fiercely, adjusting his hips to take you at an angle that has his cock hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You come for him again with a cry of his name, your voice hoarse, and this time he comes with you, moaning your name in your ear as he fills you up, his upper body coming down on top of you. You both take a moment to catch your breath before he sits up, pulling you into a sitting position beside him. The contrast between how rough he had just been with the gentleness of the gesture has your body tingling.

Neither of you say anything for a long moment, looking at the ground. You spot streaks of red on one of his forearms.

“I clawed your arm up,” you comment, not able to keep the note of vindictive pleasure from your voice. He lifts his arm, examining the damage.

“So you did,” he replies absently.

“Maybe it’ll teach you not to fuck around with your employees,” you suggest cheekily, unable to resist. He gives you a look that has your knees going weak again, and you briefly worry he’s going to bend you over the desk again for another round.

“Oh I wouldn’t say that,” he replies brightly, slowly coming to stand in front of you. He grabs your chin in one hand. “You look good after I’ve ravaged you.”

“Bite me, Terry.”

“Let me get you home, first.”

---

You use the car-phone in Terry’s limo on the way to his place to leave a voicemail for your assistant, telling her you wouldn’t be in that coming week.

“See? Isn’t cooperating so much better?” he asks condescendingly once you’ve hung up the receiver, patting your hair affectionately. You glower at him, slapping his hand away.

“Do you think you could go even ten minutes without being a pretentious asshole?” you ask, crossing your arms in a huff. “I don’t need to spend any of my time off with you.”

“Oh Y/N,” he croons, tugging you into his lap despite your mild protestations. “I have no intention of letting you be anywhere else.”

---

…I got carried away.

[esta-elavaris]

Flufftober Day 14: "I hate it." "No you don't." - Cutler Beckett/OC [2,799 words]

My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨

I was trying to figure out how the hell to write Beckett in a romantic setting and my brain gave me toxic power couple, enjoy. This is more hurt/comfort with eventual kinda-sorta fluff than anything else, but I did my best and so no one can judge me xoxo

It was the evening of her husband’s farewell party before he departed for the Caribbean, and Lady Clara Beckett was a woman on a mission. She had been ever since her dear husband had announced he would not be bringing her with him when he set sail, citing that it was too dangerous and that there was no real need for her to be there - wording that had earned him a look that said more than an earful ever might. But good reason had failed, her discussions with him had been for naught, and he had resolved not to listen. So now, there was only time left for dirty tactics.

He had no right to be too cross about that. It was something he often revelled in, and while she couldn’t give him the credit in saying she’d learned it from him, watching his actions certainly encouraged her. Clara suspected he found it charming at times – but she knew tonight would not be one of those times. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to be one of those times, her annoyance at now being bloody well listened to warring with her fury at how calm and impassive he was as she’d argued her case. No, she couldn’t quite decide if her plan for the night was with the aim of ‘winning’, or just of royally annoying him.

Although with two goals, she was more likely to achieve at least one of them, was she not?

Her maid did not seem to think so, if the silence in which she dressed her was anything to go by. Clara cared little. It at least saved her from any inane conversation – focused instead on the overall effect. Straight from the court of Louis XV, the gown was red silk, simple and sophisticated without frills or lace. Primarily because none was needed, as the neckline spoke for itself, dipping so far down that it exposed the curve of the pale, smooth underside of her breasts. Were she more well-endowed, it would’ve appeared obscene. Thankfully, she was fairly certain she could just get away with it.

Rubies dangled from her ears, bringing out the warmth of her dark locks where they were piled artfully atop her head, but when the maid brought out the matching necklace, Clara waved her away. It would ruin the effect.

With the maid dismissed thereafter, she had a moment alone to steel herself for what lay ahead. Standing, she inspected her reflection one last time and found that she rather liked what she saw, her dark eyes staring cooly back at her. Then, she took in a deep breath – and found it was a good thing they were throwing a dinner party and not a ball, for the dress would never remain in place for something like dancing – and then made for the door.

 A footman was striding down the corridor as she stepped out, and when he saw her, he froze, and then did his utmost to keep his eyes firmly glued upon her face. Clara took that as a good sign, but kept any indication of that to herself.

“Lord Beckett?” she asked.

“His…study, my lady. Seeing to a handful of letters before your guests arrive.”

“Very well, thank you,” she nodded, and made her way there – her shoulders squaring and her chin raising more and more with every step.

Her husband was indeed in his study, alone behind the great mahogany desk, his eyes fixed firmly on whatever it was he was writing now. She knew not why he would leave any correspondence so late, but no doubt there was a reason behind it – there was a reason behind everything he did. They had that in common.

Stepping inside without announcing herself, she swept her way towards the chair before the desk and sank casually into it, leaning back and watching him with great patience. He looked up, his quill stilled, and a great splotch of ink fell down atop the letter.

Clara smiled. Cutler did not.

“Absolutely not,” he said firmly.

Only once he’d managed to lift his gaze to her eyes.

“It’s from Paris,” she said, her tone light.

“Then the French can let their wives wear them. Change, Clara. Immediately.”

“Take me with you to Jamaica. Tomorrow.”

Realisation hit him then – visibly, his jaw clenching as he heaved a great sigh, leaning back in his chair as he considered her like she was some new great opponent. His head was already in whatever games lay ahead, then. Or perhaps he simply saw her as good practise. There was something flattering in that.

“No,” he said.

Clara shrugged.

“Then it appears we’re at an impasse.”

“So that’s your plan, then, is it? To flounce around showing me precisely what it is I’ll be missing, as if I’m not already well aware?”

His tone might’ve been scathing if not for the certain note of excitement threatening to slip through his annoyance. He did so enjoy their little games.

“You, and everybody else,” she smirked.

Annoyance prevailed then, for he seemed to like that notion even less than his first assumption. Much to her delight. It wasn’t so much, she knew, about the prospect of other men seeing and desiring what was his – for what good was a beautiful wife if not for that very purpose? So long as she never let them think they had a chance in hell (and they never did – infuriating as he was, she was rather fond of her husband), he liked that aspect of things. No, his reservations here would lie in what his leaving behind a woman such as her suggested about his wits. Which was exactly what she intended. She wanted everybody to look at him tonight, after looking at her for a good long while, and wonder if he’d lost his mind in deciding to let her out of his sight.

“Change your dress, Clara,” he ordered. “You have countless other very becoming ones. Choose one of them, and wear that instead.”

Flattery would get him nowhere. Downstairs, the sound of the servants admitting the first of their guests into the house echoed throughout, and her smiled shifted into a smirk as she rose to her feet.

“Would you look at that? I’m afraid it’s too late.”

Turning, she strode to the door of his office before pausing and turning back to him, drawing herself up to her full height as she posed with all the elegance she could muster. Which, as it was, happened to be rather a lot.

“You haven’t said what you think of the dress.”

He scowled at her. “I hate it.”

Clara grinned, seeing through the assertion immediately – rather helped by how, despite his protests, his eyes were glued to her figure.

“No you don’t,” she said.

Their guests were more people whom they were supposed to like rather than those they really held in any high regard. Then again, did anybody really like anybody in London? Neighbours, business associates, and not quite anybody who would be offended at the lack of an invite but instead those whose offense would actually matter, should it come to that.

Lady Clara Beckett greeted them all warmly, tittering appropriately over the origins of their silverware, or the sofa on which they sat as they waited for dinner to be served, or the year on the fine bottles of wine served – and, of course, the dress.

If Cutler was still cross with her (which she knew he was) he did it almost immaculately well, engaging in small-talk over his upcoming journey, talking in serious tones about the threat of the pirate problem, and humming with a great deal of false humility over what his chances may or may not have been at stamping it all out.

Of course, she said “almost” immaculately, for there was one sore spot. One of his good friends – or allies, rather – a fellow Lord, had seen fit to bring his son along with him. Said son was but a year older than Clara, and had presented a rather strong case for her hand way back when she’d still had to endure things like courting and what her potential prospects were. Alexander had never had a chance at “winning” her, but he didn’t seem to know that. Nor did he seem to have much care for his own wife – a boring little Blowsabella who scarcely seemed able to say three words without blushing, as though fearing they were the wrong ones, leaving Clara pitying the lobster that had to die to feed such a bore tonight. Instead, Alexander instead spent much of the evening all but glued to Clara instead, doing his utmost to be charming.

To his credit, he was rather good at it.

No doubt he smelled blood in the water, knowing her husband would soon depart and leave her alone for what could be years.

The evening was a roaring success, as all evenings she put together were. The conversation flowed nicely, dinner was impeccable, and the drinks that followed were so jolly that they were all very reluctant to leave thereafter. She had to suppress a smirk when Alexander’s father leaned in close to Cutler as he left, his face flushed with drink, saying in what he likely thought was a whisper.

“You must be out of your mind to leave a woman like that behind, my dear fellow. Out of your mind!”

His son looked very self-satisfied to hear it, shooting her a look that could only be described as scheming as he herded his wife out of the door. It closed behind them, and she knew her husband had caught the look thanks to how his hands curled into fists at his sides.

“That went rather well, I thought,” she said happily.

“I suppose you were particularly pleased with those parting comments at the end, there,” his tone was scathing.

It rather warmed her.

“If the opinions men hold over your decision to leave me behind bothers you so greatly, perhaps you might rethink those very actions in the first place. When has what others said ever bothered you when you knew the course of action you were taking was the right one?”

“Perhaps the opinions of others bother me when those opinions were cajoled by my wife behaving like a common whore! Perhaps it’s not my present decisions that concern me, but instead the decision I made not one full year ago when I chose such a woman over one who would know her place and do as she was damn well told!”

Silence hung in the air when he was finished. Clara was content to let it remain there, watching him without respond, allowing him to fully consider precisely what it was he’d just said to her. For the first time ever – in all the time that she’d known him – her husband looked alarmed, the fury slipping from his face like rain from a windowpane.

“Clara…darling…” he sighed.

Darling, was it? He only broke out the terms of endearment in truly dire circumstances. Her expression must have been thunderous, then.

“I wish you safe passage on your travels, husband. I’m rather tired, so I’m afraid I won’t be awake to see you off come morning. You may write, if you so wish,” her tone was clipped, and there was a finality to her words.

Although it would be a good long while before he got any response beyond what was entirely necessary – information as to the running of the household, and so on.

The only way she allowed her temper to shine through was in how she snatched her hand away when he reached for it, rising to her feet and leaving the room. The maid noted the curl of her lip and her silence well enough, dressing her for bed and binding her thick dark hair into a long plait behind her head with no attempt at chit-chat, finally leaving the room swiftly thereafter.

Once the door clicked shut behind her, Clara rested her elbows atop the vanity and sighed heavily. How dare he? More infuriatingly still, he’d left her feeling as though she had done something wrong. Not in her manner of dress – she would wear whatever she damn well pleased within the bounds of good taste and propriety. And what did men know of fashion, anyhow? No, what she was questioning was the goodbye she'd offered. Paltry. Cold, even, considering it would be at least a year before they saw one another again. More, conceivably.

But what else could a man expect, upon likening his wife to a whore? And as for his other assertion – the mere suggestion that he’d ever be content with some insipid little fool who simpered and smiled and did not know precisely who and what he was. It would have been hilarious, were it not so insulting.

She been lying in her bed, glaring at the canopy for some time when a knock sounded at her door. Instantly she knew it was him, despite the fact that he never knocked. So she rolled over and put her back to the door, just in time for it to open. Footsteps, muffled by the rug, drew near and then the bed behind her sank as he sat down.

“I’ve spoken to your maid. She believes she can have your belongings packed and ready to go come morning.”

Clara scoffed.

“To what end?”

“You are my wife. Your place is by my side.”

“Yes, well I’m sure there’ll be many bored ladies in Port Royal eager to warm your bed when you make port, so you shan’t miss me. You said it yourself, I do not know my place. I should hate to change that now.”

“You know that isn’t true. None of it.”

“An hour ago, I might’ve thought not. Then, however, you likened me to a whore and everything was made quite clear.”

“You’re coming with me to Jamaica. Would I decide that if I thought you a whore?”

“I suppose it depends on the hourly rate. I’m not going.”

“Clara.”

“I’m not. And I’m not just saying it so that you might convince me otherwise, I’m saying it because I know you changed your mind solely to stop me from being cross with you. I don’t want to win – not anymore. Not that way, in any case. I’ll get up in the morning and see you off if that’ll convince you that I mean it. But I will not go.”

The bed behind her rose, indicating he’d stood, and something within Clara seized up – devastation outweighing the relief that he’d finally listened to her. But then he rounded the bed instead, coming to sit before her. She could not roll onto her other side without the display bordering on the ridiculous, so she forced her face to remain stony as she regarded him. He’d undressed before coming here – now in a nightshirt and devoid of his wig. It was almost easy to forget who he was, and what he was capable, without all of the finery and the accoutrements that went into Lord Beckett being Lord Beckett, his dark hair sticking up here and there.

She would not allow herself to be charmed by it; for that was likely his intention.

“Come with me to Jamaica,” he said. “Please. Not because you’re cross, and not because it shall mean you have won, but because you are my wife, and I’ve little wish to spend the next year or more without you. Tonight has shown me that well enough.”

Clara stared, pushing herself up so that she was sitting upright. Because he never said please. He’d proposed with less heart than what he’d just shown now. Her eyes lowered, and she angrily urged herself to get a grip – a fire blazing in her gaze when she met his eye again.

“Never use that word to refer to me again,” she warned.

He weighed the response, nodding slowly and then finding her hand amidst the covers. “So long as you never grow predictable. So long as you never bore me.”

She could promise well enough that she’d never do that. Based on the rueful smirk on his face as she slid over to admit him into her bed, he knew that well enough.

Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune

[animegirlspongebob]

Hey Viper!!! I’d love to here about ur OC’s

oh wow oh wow thank you so much!!!!! okay there’s like a lot so sorry if this is long and incoherent im extremely excited about them all.

so!!! since they’re from slivering ghost town, i have to introduce some ocs that aren’t new, but i haven’t talked about them yet. also be aware that slivering ghost town takes place 16 years into the future!! (also some characters i mention while explaining are my friend’s ocs)

first up, there’s Vanilla! Vanilla’s biological parents are Michellis and Salem, although it’s widely believed that she was born to Michellis and Button. however, Michellis and Button died not long after Vanilla was born. so since then, she’s been raised by Button’s son Snake, and his boyfriend Sparkle! Vanilla’s nice, but a bit too nice, often prioritising others happiness over their own. they are 16 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

then there’s Lottie! Lottie’s biological parents are Tessa and Anthony, but Tessa died also not long after her birth, and Anthony died when she was five, so she was also adopted by Snake and Sparkle! Lottie is very low energy, and struggles expressing herself properly. she takes it upon herself to look after the entirety of her friend group. she’s 16 in SGT, and can see some ghosts!

then there’s Doubloon! Doubloon is Sal and Goldie’s child, which makes her Otto’s grandchild! she, like her father, is a rowdy little pirate! unlike her father she can at least not throw chairs at people. she knows very well how to use a sword, though! she’s 13 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

then there’s Chester! Chester is Candie and Onion’s child, making him Snake and Hudson’s younger brother! (he also has an older sister, but you’ll see her later on this list). Chester’s a sweet little man, but he’s frightened rather easily. he enjoys baking quite a bit! he’s 11 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

and finally (kinda…there’s another kid whos one of the main ones, but she’s my friend’s oc, so i can’t go into detail on her) Medic! Medic is Doc’s younger child, and she’s nonverbal! she’s often bullied by her older sister, Bandaid, for various reasons. she’s pretty shy, but likes to help people as much as she can. she’s 11 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

NOW, onto the actual new ones you asked about!

first up, there’s Apple!! Apple is Dahlia and Cheri’s kid! unlike the other parents on this list, Dahlia and Cheri are not in any kind of relationship! they were just uh…..getting a bit silly day if you catch my drift!! luckily for Apple there’s no tension between them and they get along fine. Apple however, wants to be more then just “the kid of that weird alcoholic and that weird mortician”. they aren’t the fondest of either of their mothers…..but they’re 13 in SGT, and can see some ghosts!

next there’s Charlotte!!!! Charlotte is Chester’s older sister i mentioned earlier, making Snake and Hudson her older brothers too!! Charlotte is one of the most rational of the group, and tries to keep them out of trouble. keyword: TRIES. but she’s a very lovely girl!! she’s 14 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!!!

then there’s Gracelyn! Gracelyn is Guts’ younger sister, and while she keeps a calm and stoic exterior, she’s extremely anxious. just like her older sibling, she unfortunately has, for lack of a better term, mommy issues. she’s 16 in SGT, and can see all ghosts!

and finally, one of my FAVOURITES, Sydney-Rose!!! Sydney-Rose is Lucy and Tobias’ child, but unfortunately for little Sydney, her dad dies when she is very young….possibly right in front of her. this is probably why she’s so angsty today, remaining quite a mystery to the rest of the kids. despite this, they treat her as apart of the group, which is nice of them. most people are still quite weary of her, due to her odd behaviour, “scary” appearance, and the fact that both of her parents are known serial killers. she’s 15 in SGT, and can most ghosts.

technically there’s more! but those are my friends ocs, so i can’t go into detail about them! im sure you’ll meet them all eventually, though!

[hornime]

voyeurant | kenma kozume x f!reader

he tentatively wrapped a palm around the shaft, shuddering at the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. god, i’m such a pervert, thinking about her like this. she’d hate me if she knew i saw her like that, knew that i was touching myself thinking about her tits...

warnings: 18+, timeskip!kenma, kinda dubcon, kenma’s unintentionally pervy, male masturbation, poorly written video game content (i tried my best), mutual pining but u both are oblivious

w/c: 1.5k

a/n: yes, the title is a shitty pun of valorant. no, i will not be changing it. also this tiktok about timeskip kenma made me giggle so pls enjoy.

voyeurant: part one ↓ | part two | part three:

“fuck, i hate this map,” kenma grumbled into his headset.

your voiced chimed in his ears. “is it ascent?” you turned to see his face on your screen, pinched in annoyance. “ha, it is ascent. sucks for you.”

“which one are you on? haven?”

“you know it,” you chuckled. “your favorite.”

“i hate you.” he weighed his options, did he really want to play this game? the layout of the world made it irritatingly hard to strategize, and today’s losing streak was making him more agitated than usual. with a sign, he closed the application. “fuck this. i’m gonna go piss.”

“yeah, yeah, you’re such a big baby. and...” you released your mouse, throwing your hands up in triumph, “we just won. at this point, i’m gonna outrank you.” you were joking, of course. kenma wasn’t just a gamer, he was kodzuken, one of japan’s best pro-gamers, and you were just someone that played as a hobby. but it was always fun to tease.

“hmm,” he hummed. “i’m sure you will.” he turned his head to look directly at his webcam, smirking, “in your dreams.”

“ooh, catboy’s getting feisty!” he flinched at the nickname. “go pee so i can beat you at your best.”

he obliged, pulling his headphones off and looping them on the top of his chair. he casually raised his middle finger at you while smoothing out strands of his hair, prompting a series of profanities to escape your mouth, none of which he could hear. he chuckled playfully as you responded with two middle fingers of your own, before moving out of the camera to get to the bathroom.

you and kenma had met in an... interesting way, to say the least. after going moderately viral from lashing out at him for refusing to heal you in a game of overwatch—while he was streaming—the two of you reconciled over a twitter thread and exchanged gamer tags. since then, you’d struck up an easygoing friendship, characterized by almost nightly discord calls and occasional flirting. but we’re just friends, you often reminded yourself. and you were fine, well, mostly fine, with that.

tonight was like any other night: both you and him spending hours in a video chat with nothing better to do than mindlessly play games and bash each other. it was more than enough to strengthen your relationship but fell short of giving you the romantic tension you craved.

with kenma off in the bathroom, you, already bored, spun wildly in your chair. forgetting that your earbuds were still plugged in, the white wire caught on an opened can of coke sitting on your desk, spilling the sugary drink all over your keyboard and the front of your shirt. 

“shit!” you quickly scrambled for paper towels, but the still-connected wire yanked you backwards. in your haste for something to wipe the soda with, the fact that your camera remained on in the video call completely slipped your mind. making the split-second decision that the trip for a towel wasn’t worth it at this point, you quickly whipped off your shirt, dabbing the keys with the part that was still dry. since you were home, you’d gone braless, and your current predicament had you flashing your webcam.

now, kenma had seen a lot of things from your side of the call: he’d seen you get chewed out by your residential advisor for being too loud, you with two sticks of pocky poking out of your mouth like walrus tusks, and you doing random cosplay moves you’d seen on tiktok. what he wasn’t expecting to see, not even in his wildest dreams, was a screenful of your tits, slightly damp from the cola that had seeped through the fabric of your long-gone shirt.

he stopped in his tracks, still out of the frame of his camera, eyes wide and heart racing, desperately trying to calm down and prevent the gradual hardening of his cock in his pants. unable to deny his desires, he continued staring at your plump breasts on his computer, you completely unaware that he could see you.

you quickly threw your soaked top in the laundry basket before throwing on a random sweatshirt and trying to calm your frazzled nerves. you tentatively touched your keyboard, groaning internally when you fingers lightly stuck to the buttons. it’s gonna take forever to clean this, you mourned.

“hey,” kenma mumbled, reappearing on screen and shaking you out of your thoughts.

“hey.” you noticed his flushed expression. “are you okay? you look really red.”

“uh, yeah. i actually uh, i feel kinda sick. so i’m gonna, gonna go.”

“oh, okay.” why’s he acting so weird? “feel better!” you disconnected from the call with a huff, disappointment morphing your face into a pout. well, you thought, better get to cleaning.

kenma, on the other hand, was still, swallowing as the bulge in his boxers became agonizingly hard. though the only thing left on his screen was his reflection staring back at him, the luscious view of your bust was etched in his mind. his hands moved to free his cock, the tip an angry red and smearing pre-cum over the waistband of his underwear. 

he tentatively wrapped a palm around the shaft, shuddering at the contact, his eyelids fluttering shut. god, i’m such a pervert, thinking about her like this. she’d hate me if she knew i saw her like that, knew that i was touching myself thinking about her tits...

“fuck,” he whined, slowly stroking up and down. his thighs trembled as he fell back into his chair, mind wandering. he couldn’t stop himself, his thoughts become more and more lewd, fantasizing about how your breasts would bounce as he thrusted into you, how your thighs would wrap warmly around your head as he ate you out, how you’d cry out his name so prettily when he made you squirt around his fingers.

it was all too much, and as the circle he made with his fingers tightened as he reached his tip, he lurched forward, alarmed at how good everything felt just by thinking about you. i can’t cum, i can’t, the small part of his brain that wasn’t completely overtaken with pleasure tried to reason with him. there’s no going back if i—shit—if i cum. she’ll know, somehow, if i—if i cum, i—

the ecstasy kept clouding his judgement and his body worked against his mind as his hand pumped faster and faster while his conscience screamed to stop. his wrist wetly slapped the base of his cock, the sounds of both his hands and his moans getting too loud for comfort, but all he could think about was you. your eyes, your mouth, your chest, your legs, your ass, your pussy. god, he wanted to be in you so badly.

he couldn’t hold back, his insatiable need to cum overriding his senses, and the translucent liquid twitched out of his throbbing cock in spurts, drenching his fist and his balls. “fuck, fuck, fuck. i’m—fuck.”

he collapsed against the back of his chair, chest heaving with the sheer intensity of his orgasm. he combed a hand through his hair, the consequences of his actions now weighing heavily on his shoulders. i’m never gonna be able to look at her in the eyes again, he lamented. how am i ever gonna—damn it. 

the sudden ping of a notification had his eyes raising from the mess on his pants towards his computer screen. 

meanwhile, you were messaging kenma, a little off-put by his sudden radio silence but chalking it all up to his mysterious sickness.

[11:05 PM] you: hey ken! hope u feel better

[11:05 PM] you: if u get the chance u should check out what i added to our minecraft house. its perfect for sick victorian orphans like u

[12:14 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: why arent u responding

[12:05 PM] you: guess

[12:05 PM] you: ok u got me ill tell u

[12:05 PM] you: its a hot tub

[12:05 PM] you: but with soup

[12:05 PM] you: but the soup is lava

[12:05 PM] you: genius right

[12:06 PM] you: anyway get some sleep and feel better <3

[12:06 PM] you: lmk if u wanna play animal crossing

[12:06 PM] you: actually no u should sleep. rest ur eyes and shit

[12:06 PM] you: no animal crossing for u!

[12:06 PM] you: sleep well so i can destroy ur ass in val tmrw

[12:06 PM] you: >:)

he sighed as he read your one-sided ramblings. he really liked you.

and he really wanted to fuck you. lucky for you, you wanted the exact same thing. 

if only kenma knew what you did on the other side of the screen, hands in your undies and his name on your lips...

>> part two

© property of hornime 2021. do not plagiarize any of my writing and do not repost/copy my writing onto any other sites.

[tyongiecore]

misfit | JSUH ; kinda fluff, 0.8k

1:27 a.m. is the hour displayed on the digital clock-radio on the nightstand. The melody of “Save a Prayer”, by Duran Duran, echoes softly across the bedroom. On nights like this, insomnia is your company.

You saw me standing by the wall corner of a main street

And the lights are flashing on your window sill

All alone ain't much fun so you're looking for the thrill

And you know just what it takes and where to go

You should be used to it, but your heart is worried and your mind flies away, trying to bring back the man who took your peace with him.

Tired of vainly trying to sleep, you take a pink glittery little box and a lighter — also pink — and go to the small balcony attached to the room. After comfortably lying down on the deck chair, you light the watermelon flavored cigarette. Your favorite.

Blowing smoke towards the skies and feeling the cold breeze of the night raise the hairs on the back of your neck, you can't think of anything else.

— Hope is everything alright… with him and the others. — you whisper to yourself, looking at the distant sparkle of the stars.

Lost in anxious thoughts and sweet memories, your peripheral vision notices a light beam coming from the right corner of the street. You decide to pay attention, then your body relaxes a little when you hear the motor’s sound. A Harley-Davidson Super Glyde Custom. Your heart jumps inside the ribcage when you see the owner of the two wheeled beast parking in front of the house.

Quiet there, you thought he didn’t notice you, but before entering, while putting the coconut helmet off, the man looks directly to where you are, gifting you with a cute and heartwarming smile.

Within one minute, wearing cargo pants, sweatshirt and a pair of white Adidas, the blonde and tall man enters the room. With sharp features and singular beauty, he could clearly pursue a career as a photographic model or even on the catwalk, but his life is far from all that glamorous.

His lifestyle shows very well who he is, and the inseparable leather vest emphasizes his role in the small town.

NEO ORIGINAL. MISFIT MEN. VICE PRESIDENT.

— You should be sleeping. — he speaks from the bedroom, taking off the vest, the sweatshirt and the plain white tee he likes to use under.

— I couldn’t stop thinking about you.

— Since when is this a problem?

You sigh with his mocking tone, and turn the face a bit to answer him, but you are faced with a vision that, no matter how hard you try, always takes your breath away: him leaning against the doorframe, his bare torso and the waistband of his underwear sticking out over his pants.

— I’m fucking serious, John Jun Suh!

— You look so cute being worried like this, you know? — he sits on the edge of the deck chair, taking one of your cigarettes to smoke too.

Trying not to ingratiate yourself with the blond, you try your best to remain serious and just blow smoke in his direction.

— Oh, princess. — one of his hands slides on your thighs. — Are you going to be like this every time I have to go out to solve something?

— You came back with a bruise on your face and want me to not be worried? — you throw your cigarette butt into the ashtray on the table next to you.

— This one? — he points to the purple area on his left cheekbone. — It was nothing.

You sit up a little, pulling Johnny closer, placing your legs bent over his, almost sitting on his lap.

— Tell me what happened. — your fingers gently touch the bruise on the man’s face, which barely reacts.

— Taeyong, me and Yuta went to a meeting. Everything was nice and cool until Yuta decided that wasn't. — he smiles, shaking his head.

— I don’t get it how you and Taeyong stay so calm with his craziness.

— It's his way. — he shrugs. — And he's a loyal brother, maybe that's the price to pay.

— I hope his way, — you emphasize the last two words. — don't end up screwing with you.

— It won’t, kitten. — Johnny caresses your hair. — We already solved everything, Taeyong doesn't like to leave anything for later.

— Mmh, if you say so.

— Come here. — he pulls you to sit on his lap, face to face. You take the opportunity and take the last cigarette that is in his mouth, taking a drag in all at once. — Since you're here awake, we could have a little fun.

— Indeed a little, since you don't last very long. — you snap back, threading your fingers through the blonde strands that are starting to get greasy.

He lets out such a genuine laugh that you end up laughing along with him.

— I got you, kitten. — he puts his big hands inside your cotton pajamas, climbing up your back.

— Oh yeah? — you bring your body closer to his, fitting the sitting more. — Does it work?

— That you will tell me later.

And right there, entwined on that deck chair on the balcony, lulled by the sound of “Strangelove” by Depeche Mode, you exchange kisses and bites, feeling intimately with each other, as if at any instant that moment would be taken away from you.

[multifandomwhore-003]

Pregnant (Rewrite)

Pairing: JJ Maybank x pregnant! Mexican female! reader

Summary: What would've happened if you did choose to have the baby?

Genre(s): Fluff.

Warnings: None!

Gif credits to whom it belongs

Part two and three on the masterlist! 𓆉︎𝙹𝙹 𝙼𝚊𝚢𝚋𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚁𝚞𝚍𝚢 𝙿𝚊𝚗𝚔𝚘𝚠 𝚒𝚖𝚊𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𓆉︎ REQUESTS OPEN, REQUEST HERE THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK Reblog if you like

Week 4

"I'm pregnant," you spat.

He widened his eyes as he stared at you coldly, "Okay," he nodded slowly.

"And I'm gonna have it,"

His breath hitched, "No, you're not," he quickly thought out loud, "No, sorry that's not for me to decide I just- I mean, are you sure?"

You sighed, you were prepared for this question, you pulled four pregnancy tests out of your bag, "Oh yeah, I'm sure," you placed them back as you walked towards him, "Look, I know you're panicking right now, but you can be as involved as you want, whether you wanna be a part of its life-"

"You seriously think I'm not gonna be there?"

You raised your shoulders.

"Oh, I'll be there, trust me,"

You grinned at his words.

"What do your parents think?"

"Oh, my dads? Don't worry, they were the first to notice,"

"How so?"

"Well, during my supposedly period-days our icecream bucket was full so, they kinda figured something was wrong,"

"Have you told them you're gonna have it?"

"Actually, I was hoping we could tell them together..." you trailed off hesitantly.

"Ok," he huffed, "But I think we should tell the pogues first, you know, for practice,"

You nodded offering your hand, he took it as you began to walk into the chateau.

Right after you opened your mouth you both quickly realized a few things:

a) The pogues were expecting different news, you could tell by the way they all cheered, and right after they processed your words, they were shocked, confused, and concerned

b) To be clear, they were expecting for you two to be together

c) You always had a feeling Pope was the dad of the group, and your suspicions were aggressively confirmed as he ambushed you both with facts about pregnancy and really unusual questions

d) Talking to them was ten times harder than telling your dads, their first reaction was of course surprise, but they remained calm and supportive nonetheless

You and JJ were now sitting on the beach chairs of your pool, contemplating the view, thinking about everything and nothing.

"What do you think it is?" he broke the silence while playing with your hair.

"I don't know, it's too early to guess don't you think?" you looked up at him.

"Yeah, but like, you know how in movies the moms always have this sixth sense and they're always like 'Oh, I have a feeling it's gonna be a boy and we're gonna name him James'," he did a high-pitched voice.

You chuckled, "Well, I don't think I have that sixth sense because I have no fucking clue,"

"Hey," he slightly slapped your forehead, "Don't cuss in front of the baby,"

"Hey," you slapped him back, "Don't hit the mother of your child," you imitated him.

Week 6

"Can we replay it?" JJ sobbed.

"J, we've heard the recording of their heartbeat like a hundred times,"

"Look, if I can tolerate you throwing up this morning like a hundred times, then we can watch it again," he sniffled.

You rolled your eyes. When the video finished he began to cry again.

"C'mere," you stretched your arms, he walked to you, and instead of hugging you, he decided to rest his head on your lap.

"Aren't you worried?" he whispered after he calmed down.

"About what?"

"Me?"

"JJ why would I be worried about you?"

"What if-" he bit his lip, "What if I'm just like my dad?" he mumbled so low you almost didn't hear him.

"J, of course, you're not gonna be like him,"

"You don't know that,"

"Yes I do, but if it makes you feel safer, how does therapy sound?"

"It sounds great," he smiled.

You sniffed, "Are you wearing cologne?"

"No, I threw them all this morning,"

"Well, apparently not all of them," you ran to the bathroom.

Week 8

"We're really glad to have you here J,"

"Thanks for receiving me Mr. Ruiz and Mr. Paredes,"

The therapist's advice was clear, JJ had to leave his household as soon as possible, your dads didn't think about it twice before they were already setting up a room for him. The adoption paperwork wasn't a problem, JJ was about to turn eighteen in a few months so he just had to stay out of trouble until then.

When he entered his new room you were there with the biggest smile he's ever seen on you, "Welcome home!" you squeaked happily, he ran to carry you off the floor and spinning you around.

"JJ, I'm gonna be sick, stop!"

"Oh, right, right," he placed you down still not letting you go.

You began to sob and whine uncontrollably in less than a minute.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" Your dads entered the room as soon as they heard you.

"Not- Nothing I- I'm just re- really ha- happy t- to have y-you all here,"

Due to their confused faces, JJ murmured 'mood swings' under his breath, that boy had done his research, well, he hates reading so he told Pope to read it and later on he taught him everything, hell, he even almost finished a notebook, a whole notebook, school who?

They both nodded and joined the hug.

Week 10

"Oh shit! Look who it is, mom and dad!" Kiara and Pope cheered as you walked to them.

"Hi," you waved at them.

"I can't believe you made me come to Midsummer's," JJ complained.

Kiara flicked his arm, "Shut up and just be grateful they're including you," she scolded him, "Look at you!" she spun you around, "You're glowing!"

"Thanks," you blushed.

"Aren't you gonna tell her she looks beautiful?" Kiara looked at JJ.

"Oh, he already did in the car, and when I was changing, and when I was doing my hair, and before I showered, and when I woke up, and the night before, and the night before that,"

"As he should,"

"What week is this?" Pope asked.

"10th," you and JJ said in unison.

"Pregnancy glow," Pope whispered.

"Come on, we should dance," you grabbed his hand, "See you guys!"

"Bye!" they screamed as you left them behind.

You and JJ walked to the dance floor, he placed his arm behind your waist while interlacing your fingers with his on the other side. And during the whole time, you coordinated your bodies to the music you were talking, giggling, and even just joining your foreheads from time to time.

"J?" you whispered.

He hummed in response.

"Can I tell you something?"

He nodded.

"I'm glad I'm pregnant with your baby, I wouldn't've wanted it any other way,"

"Your plan is to kill me isn't it?"

You laughed.

"You wanna see me cry in front of all these people?"

"Maybe?"

"Ah shit," he felt his face wet.

"Don't cry because if you cry then I cry," your eyes began to water.

And now you looked like crazy people just randomly crying in the middle of the party.

Week 12

"No, I'm not going to the beach," you shook your head.

"You don't have to swim,"

"I know, but I don't wanna go,"

"Why not?" he whined.

"If you wanna go so badly then go, we don't have to be together all the time you know,"

"I'm not leaving your side and you know it," he harshly stated.

"Then don't go,"

"Pleeeeeease," he begged, "Why don't you wanna go?"

"Because," you thought, "I- I don't want people judging me,"

He looked at you with a straight face, "Didn't you yell at someone yesterday to stop looking at you? I vividly remember you saying, and I quote 'Yes, I'm pregnant! What about it!'"

You groaned.

"Why don't you just tell me why you really don't wanna go,"

You sighed taking the blanket off your legs.

JJ scanned your skin for a second and then looked at you confused.

"My veins JJ! My veins are fucking huge!"

"And?"

"If I go to the beach I'm gonna have to wear a dress and I don't like my legs looking like that,"

"Y/N, I don't think anyone's gonna notice, and even if they did, who cares, you look hot with or without your veins being redder," he sat next to you.

"You really think so?"

"Of course I do, besides, didn't we fuck right after you woke up? You swore you looked awful but to me, you were the hottest woman alive, now, come on, we have a beach date to attend,"

"A date?"

"Well, yeah, with- with the pogues,"

Week 14

"Y/N, can I come in?" JJ knocked on your door.

"No,"

He frowned, "Why not?"

"Because, I- I'm naked," you lied.

JJ scoffed, "As if I haven't seen you naked already, come on open the door,"

"No!"

"Why not?!"

You groaned getting closer to the door, "Because I-" you blushed, "Just no, ok?"

JJ rolled his eyes walking to his room, he searched through his notebook.

"14th week, 14th week, 14th week... Oh, here it is," After reading it something in him felt weird, he decided to call you as he also closed his door, when you picked up the phone you were still nervous, "Y/N,"

"JJ,"

"What are you doing,"

"I'm watching tv,"

Ok, so option number one was out the window, "What are you watching?"

"Dr. Sleep,"

Option two was also wrong, "Y/N, are you afraid to open the door because you're horny?"

"No?" you bit your thumb.

He laughed over the line, "I'm not gonna try anything I promise,"

"I know, but I can't trust myself, and let's be honest, you don't have the strength to reject me,"

"You got a point,"

Then you stayed silent.

"Would it be too bad if we tried it tho?" you suggested.

"Well, it's safe and the baby won't even know it's happening,"

"I'll think about it," you hung up.

[sluttyminghao]

Part 1/?

✧ pairing: wen junhui x gender neutral!reader ✧ word count: 2k ✧ genre: smut ✧ warnings in this chapter: camboy!jun, masturbation, masturbating on camera, camboy!minghao makes an appearance ✧notes for this chapter: reader only makes an appearance at the end of the installment, i hope it makes sense as you read it! ✧ a/n: you asked, and i delivered! this is the first installment of going live! a series about camboy jun and his adventures! i hope you all enjoy, and if you would like to be added to a taglist pls inbox me! feedback is appreciated! ✧ synopsis: he’s a shy college boy who is stuck in financial difficulty, and his best friends gives him a suggestion that may or may not be a good idea.

A slight glance at the clock on his nightstand indicated that it was 10:49 pm, and he knew that within a matter of minutes he’d be doing the exact thing he said he would never do. His palms had grown sweaty and he felt his heart rate quicken at the thought, and all he could think to do was wipe his palms on his sweats. He remembers the conversation he had about his thoughts with Minghao vividly, even though it had happened months before his current situation.

“I just don’t see how you can do it, how do you not get embarrassed? Aren’t you being watched by...god knows how many people?” Junhui spoke between mouthfuls of ramen, immense heat rising in his cheeks at the nature of the conversation that had come up when talking about Junhui’s increasing level of financial difficulties. Minghao raised a brow at the older, before erupting into a fit of giggles and making Junhui cock one of his brows in confusion. Did he say something funny?

“Why would I be embarrassed about my livelihood?” Minghao began, wrapping some noodles around his chopsticks expertly and blowing them lightly to cool them down. “I make so much profit off of doing camming and making videos, that I’ve been able to pay my rent and amenities for the next six months, as well as keeping on top of all my art school debts,” he continued, an amused smirk finding its way onto his face at Junhui’s shocked facial features.

“Six months? That’s crazy... I’m basically living paycheck to paycheck at the minute,” he mumbled and let out a small sigh, picking at the small pieces of meat left within his ramen bowl with his chopsticks. “Well, that’s kinda what you get for working at a small and dingy diner run by a bunch of college students,” Minghao quipped while giving him a pointed look, letting his napkin fall to the table to signify he had finished his meal.

Junhui sighed. He knew Minghao was right, 99% of the time he generally was, but this was one thing he really didn’t want to admit to him. “But...would people recognise me? That’s one thing I really don’t want,” Junhui spoke shyly, and Minghao’s face softened towards his elder, before shaking his head slightly. “You can use blurring filters or wear items on your face so people won’t recognise you, that’s what I do, and no one knows who I am to this day.”

He thought a little more about it, and Minghao could practically see the cogs turning in his brain, deciding to offer a piece of advice to his struggling long-time friend. “Hey,” he spoke, gaining Junhui’s attention, “you should really think about it, especially if you need the money. With a face and a body like yours, I’m sure you’ll have thousands of subscribers in no time.”

Well, what did he have to lose? He sure didn’t have any shreds of dignity left, may as well give it a shot.

In all his years of living, he had been very well off financially, but in recent months his rent had become increasingly more expensive and the cost of living had jumped up exponentially. To his dismay, he found himself without a choice, needing the money as soon as possible so he would still have a roof over his head and the bare minimum of food. 

He had been staring at the webpage for the camming website for the past 45 minutes, trying to hype himself up, but he had just become increasingly nervous as the time had passed. Minghao had explained to him countless times that this website was very reputable and a great starting point for beginners going into camming, and he knew that he could trust the words of his younger friend.

But even still, the nerves would not stop pouring over him, almost acting like a cascading effect, flowing down his back like a waterfall and seeping into every crevice of his body.

He sucked in a breath before exhaling shakily and picking up his phone to call Minghao. He knew that if anyone was able to calm his nerves, it would be his long-time friend. He tapped on Minghao’s contact before placing the phone to his ear, listening to the phone ring a few times before he was met with Minghao’s groggy voice.

“Were you sleeping?” Junhui’s voice is quiet as he speaks into the receiver, awaiting his companion’s response even though he was almost sure he knew the answer already. “No, I was out feeding the ducks, of course, I was sleeping,” Minghao sighed sarcastically, and Junhui suddenly felt a pang of guilt for the late-night call to his friend. “What did you need, ‘Hui?” Minghao continued, sleep laced in his voice.

“I’m sorry for waking you up...I’m so nervous...I don’t even know how to start the camming videos…do you have any...pointers, maybe...” Junhui trailed off, and he could hear Minghao hum from the other end of the phone. He remained silent for a few beats, only further amplifying Junhui’s nerves to the point where his leg had begun to bounce incessantly.

“I think you just need to relax a little, maybe have a drink or two to settle your nerves,” he replied smoothly, wanting to end the conversation so that he could get back to sleep. “If you’re really worried, why don’t you just show everything from the neck down when you’re recording?” He continued, waiting for his older friend’s reply.

Junhui was contemplating the options laid out to him and decided to combine both, deciding he didn’t have anything to lose. “Thanks, Hao, I owe you,” he rushed, hanging up and throwing his phone on his desk and standing up to get himself a bottle of alcohol. He assured himself that he was only going to have a few sips to loosen himself up, but he figured that he may need to down the whole bottle by the night’s end.

A few swigs of his precious alcohol later, and he had finally built up the courage to remove his shirt but left his sweats on as a safety measure. Minghao was right, the alcohol definitely loosened him up, and before he had even realised what he was doing, he had pressed the record button and had started his live stream.

He didn’t know what he was doing, not a single clue. His mind was fuzzy and his last shreds of dignity left him the moment his pants were pulled down and thrown haphazardly to the side. The only thought that was now running rampant through his mind was how much he wanted to cum. He wasn’t even focused on the live video anymore, only focused on his hardening cock and the way his hand wrapped around it.

Normally when he got himself off, he would take his time and relish in the sensations, not wanting to rush. In his nervous and alcohol-fueled state, however, he wasn’t going to beat around the bush like he would if he was sober. His hand moved up and down the length of his cock rapidly, small whimpers eliciting from the man’s lips as he pleasured himself.

Junhui could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge the faster he pumped his cock, but he knew he didn’t want to cum just yet. He slowed his hand significantly to a steady pace, almost feather-like touches, and moved his free hand up to flick at his nipple, sighing at the sensation. 

Not that he would ever admit to anyone, but his nipples had always been extra sensitive and even just the slightest feather touch would have him reeling and wanting more.

The whines poured endlessly from his mouth, even as he built up his orgasm for a second time. He kept one hand on his cock, pumping up and down swiftly and gaining speed, while the other pinched at his nipples. It was getting harder for him to hold himself back, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer in the position he was in.

Before he could even think about stopping himself from cumming again, he felt the string snap in his abdomen and felt the hot streaks of white land on his stomach. He gasped at the feeling and let his hand continue to move steadily, letting the white streaks hit his chest. His head had grown fuzzy from the sheer intensity of his orgasm, and he could feel his hips lightly bucking up into his still closed fist.

When he was sure his orgasm had ebbed away, he removed his hand from his softening cock and sighed, leaning back in his computer chair. After a moment of stillness, his eyes widened upon seeing the small red recording dot on his computer, reminding him of the act he had just performed.

He clicked the stop button hurriedly and closed all his tabs before slamming the lid of his laptop shut. He couldn’t believe what he had just done; his mind was whirring with a thousand and one thoughts, his heart was about to leap right out of his chest, and he knew that there was no going back from the acts he had just performed.

He pushed himself out of the chair and headed towards his bathroom, showering in an attempt to get the cum off his body and somehow trying to scrub off the gross feeling he had from his lewd behaviour. It wouldn’t come off that easily, however, so all he could do was face the consequences of his actions and own them as Minghao told him to.

After a hot shower and a whole lot of contemplation later, Junhui knew that he would have to use his laptop again and see the damage that he had caused, so he decided to simply bite the bullet and take a look back at his video and see if anyone had commented or liked it. It didn’t seem likely in his opinion, since it was his first video and he had no subscribers, but there was a small glimmer of hope buried deep within him.

His eyes widened at the results in front of him. He truly could not believe the sight he saw when he clicked back on to his video to check for feedback.

200 new subscribers, 800 stars and 27 comments

He blinked rapidly, thinking it was all a hallucination. How could this be? He only sat in front of his computer for roughly 10 minutes jacking himself off and had garnered a huge response to it. He clicked the refresh button, thinking that it was simply a mistake on the website’s part. Surely he, a newbie to camming, did not just rack up over a thousand notifications from a ten-minute video.

When the page refreshed he saw the same notifications, except for one new comment that had caught his attention. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to look at just one comment and then head to bed, so he let his mouse hover over the little star-shaped notification icon and pressed on it. His eyes moved across the screen quickly, and he couldn’t help but feel the heat rise to his cheeks at the comment he had seen.

angelbaby96: you’ve got such a nice cock, and such pretty noises too. I would love to hear more of them sometime <3

[mrs-johansson]

Chapter 3: Dark Phoenix I - Goddess of Fire

Part 7:

“So, what is this actually supposed to do?” I asked as some guys tied me up to the lab chair. They shared a look then most of them left, but one man stayed. His behavior was strange. Puzzling eyes as his hands were shaking over the chair’s belt. “Prep her,” someone said and the guy who remained by my side put a teeth shield in my mouth and leaned my head back. “Don’t object, that way it’s easier,” he whispered and left to stand with his colleagues.

I shut my eyes as the door closed. I hated this part, it was so painful and there was no outcome from the treatment. Took one last deep breath in and I’ve met hell once again.

***

After the treatments, I tend to pass out. Even though it doesn't work, I always lose consciousness. I get brought back to my “room” and I wake up a couple of hours later, I can even imagine they give me something to not wake up too soon.

Every minute something hit my head, nothing big but rather small and kinda fluffy. Opening my eyes at the lowest pace, I moved my head away from the light that was coming through the window. Blinking a couple of times, tried to look for the things that were continuously thrown at me. And all I could see were pieces of bread. “в конце концов…(Finally),” the familiar voice said and I looked over at him.

James had his back against the wall and legs pulled up, his elbows resting on his knees. Piercing blue eyes fixated on the small space between the door and the ceiling. The rough look on his face scremed that he was furious. “Ты не просто бросал в меня куски хлеба…(You did not just throw bread pieces on me)” A smirk pulled on his lips. That’s new..

Sat up on my bed and pulled the covers over my shoulder. “How long was I out?” Clearing my throat I held onto the edge of the bed while I got up. Grabbed the cup from my side table and walked to the sink in my bathroom. I let the cup get filled with water and chugged the whole glass. leaving the cup there I curiously waited for James to answer.

His jaw was clenched and he had his hands in fists. “Barnes…” Walked closer to the cell door and saw the concern in his blue eyes. “12 hours… They came to check on you multiple times. Stasya you were screaming while you were-” “Don’t call me that. I’ve told you that’s not my name…” The level of my anxiety was becoming unbearable, I felt like throwing up from that name. When he says that name all I can think about is what he did to me and I can’t deal with that, especially when I’m face-to-face with him. “Sorry.” “I just need a minute.”

***

Closing the bathroom door behind me, I stepped up to the sink and let the water flow, then I let out a sob. Trying to take deep breaths in but I failed miserably. Maniacally started tugging on my hair and I just couldn't stop the memories floating in my mind.

The only thing I wanted was to have Natasha by my side, have her arms around me and just breathe in her calming scent that I love so much. She always knows how to get me out of this state. Those soothing words she whispers against my trembling skin and the caresses on my back, no better feeling in the world than her.

Just find me soon, love.

***

“Okay, if I don’t get out of here today, I don’t think I’m gonna make it so.. yeah.” I said after a while. We’ve been sitting in front of each other and just staring.

“Alright but I have one question..” He stood up and crossed his arms in front of his chest. I nodded my head and looked forward to his question. “почему ты доверяешь мне?(Why do you trust me?)” Literal confusion crossed his face and honestly that thought crossed my mind also.

There were two unbreakable glass doors between us and a small hallway. I could say I was feeling protected because of that, but we were face to face several times. We had contact with each other and I did not flinch once.

Maybe it was because I unconsciously prepared myself for the worst or it’s because he wasn’t under control all the time.

I looked down at his neck and my handprint was clearly visible. “Do you remember how you got that?” I asked and he shook his head.

Looked down at my hands then back at him. “Couple weeks ago, I had a mission. In Siberia, my team and I had to collect some information on Hydra.” I sat down by the glass door, leaning my head against the cold surface. “I thought it was in and out but when I found a lab with two guards, you appeared. All controlled and everything, of course, but you shot them. I didn’t know why, but then you remember my name.. well my fake name. I got scared not gonna lie. With every fiber in my being, I was hoping I would not be taken back to the Red Room because I could not bear one more second there. We started fighting, I almost choked to death, then I got up and burned your neck. I was so mad and afraid, that I thought if I’d hurt you I’d gain back everything that I’ve lost while I was undercover,” with a sigh my eyes found James once again and I could see how disappointed he was in himself. “I needed time to realize that he was a totally different person. I remember your face when Dreykov told us that they took the baby or when they brought me into the medical center when I got shot. You were human, multiple times. Somehow, I still hope every time we meet that it’s you who I meet with and not the Winter Soldier so.. I guess you can say I rely on hope. That’s how I trust you.” “Just call me Bucky. My friends called me Bucky,” he said and I chuckled. “Bucky?” “Buchanan, my second name.” “Got it.” “Thank you, by the way. For not giving up on me..” He murmured. “I’m very stubborn, so I don’t really give up on people,” how many times have I heard that from Nat, gosh I miss her so bad.

“It was a girl.” I lifted my head to listen to what he said. “What?” Bucky shifted in his place and played with the edge of his boot. “When they told us that they took the baby.. They didn’t kill her. Dreykov knew that it was a girl so they kept her alive. When she reached 9 months, when she was supposed to be born, doctors did all kinds of tests on her. Turned out she was deaf-mute and they did not keep her. I saw when they took her away, I don’t know if she’s alive or not, that was the last time I saw her.”

[spidernerdsblog]

Match made in Hell : Chapter Thirteen

A/N : And this is it the last and final chapter. Kinda sad but mostly happy to finally finish this series. Hope you like this chapter. Let me know what you think.

Pairing : Mob! Tom Holland x Reader

Summary : you always wanted a simple life but to be born as the daughter of a dangerous mobster turned out to be a curse for you. Everything changes when your father gets your lover killed and forcefully marries you off to another mobster as a part of a deal. You hate your father and your husband the only thing you seek is now revenge. Will you ever be able to fall in love again or this burning hatred inside you will consume you?

Warnings : mature content, kidnapping, blood, violence, murder, death, language

SERIES MASTERLIST

“What? How?” you looked at him with a worrisome face.

“We don’t know yet but we are gonna catch him don’t worry” his hands come up to your shoulders in assurance.

“Then we must go now he might be planning something dangerous to take revenge on us” saying so you were about to rush back to your room to get dressed but Tom caught hold of your hand.

“Y/N stop, you can’t go” 

“Why? You only said we need to catch him” you look at him questioningly.

“By we I meant me and the boys. You are not going anywhere, not in this condition” he speaks softly placing a hand gently over your stomach “you remember what Dr. Martin said, right? No stress and as much rest as possible”

“But-but you don’t understand Tom I can help and I was pregnant the last time we caught him” you argue as Tom reaches his hand out to cup your face with an understanding smile.

“I know love but we weren’t aware of it at that time and I'm thankful that he didn’t do anything bad but not anymore" he caressed your cheek with his thumb "I’m not letting either of you come in harm's way” you were about to say something but he cut you off “please Y/N for this time just let me handle this. I know you’re strong and the most fearless woman I have ever met in my life but for this time for their sake at least stay back” 

You finally gave up hanging your head low with a sigh. He was right with your current situation; it wasn't a wise idea. The risk would be too much and you can’t afford it, not when it’s about the safety of the little ones growing inside you.

“Okay but promise me you’ll be careful and in no circumstance you will risk your life” you place your hand over his on your stomach “we will be waiting for you”

“I promise I’ll be safe” he presses a soft kiss on your forehead “you just take care of yourself. I have told the guards everything and Leslie will also be there” he gives a one last peck on your lips before parting “I’ll be back in no time I promise” he reassures smiling as you nod mirroring his smile.

****

Tom along with with his brothers and Harrison were at their office in Westminster discussing their next move to get hold of Ethan before he makes a move against them.

“Any news?” Tom asks Harrison. 

“Nothing,” he answers with disappointment.

“We searched downtown but found no trace of him,” Harry informs, exchanging glances with Sam.

“How is this even possible? A man escaped but is nowhere to be found?!” Tom groans in  frustration when they are interrupted by William whom Vanessa brought along with her in case he might be able to help track down Ethan with his years of experience with your father's mob.

“Only if the man has never left the place” he elucidates.

“What?” Tom’s brows knit in a frown.

“Has anyone seen him getting out of the house?” William throws the question to his men as they stood there silently with their gazes lowered down at the floor. 

“Answer the question you morons!” Tom barks at them.

“No sir” one of them squeaks out in response as the frown on Tom’s face grows deeper.

“Well then you have your answer Ethan is still in your house hiding maybe seeking for the right opportunity” William remarks.

“Right opportunity for what?” Vanessa questions.

“Y/N..” Tom’s voice comes out shaky as panic washes over his face at the realization “Y/N is all alone in the house. We need to go now!” 

****

You were in your room trying to keep yourself occupied by reading some books on parenting and childbirth to calm your nerves which honestly wasn’t helping much cause you knew how dangerous it is with Ethan escaping and the vipers seeking revenge. Since no one would be informing you about anything you thought it’s best, you take a nap as stressing about it will be useless and in turn be bad for the two little beans inside you. 

You were about to lie down when you heard shuffling noises outside of your room. Your hand instantly reached out to your bedside table, opening the drawer you took out your gun and got off the bed. You carefully tip-toed out of your room, eyes scanning the corridors when you felt someone’s presence behind you. You cocked your gun ready to turn and shoot. 

“I wouldn’t dare to do that” you heard, feeling the muzzle of a gun pressed to the back of your head. 

“Ethan?” you frowned deeply.

“Miss me baby?” his voice dark and full of malice. You went to shove him in the stomach with your elbow but he was quick to catch hold of your hand and twist it back as the gun fell from your grasp on the floor.

“You’re getting clumsy sweetheart” he chuckles tauntingly.

“What do you want?!” you hissed struggling to set free.

“You’ll get to know soon but for now start walking”

“What makes you think I’ll listen to whatever you say?” you grit under your teeth. 

“Well honey news is in the air that you're pretty knocked up right now" he snickers and your throat went dry, he knows "so if you don't do what I say I wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to pull the trigger” 

Usually you were tough and it takes a lot to shake you but now it is different. You couldn’t think of fighting back as fear grasped on to your mind and body. You weren’t alone, you had two lives growing inside you and in no way you were going to put their lives in danger so you remained quiet and decided to do exactly what you were told. You slowly walked down the stairs with Ethan behind you holding you by your arm with one hand the other had his gun pointed at the back of your head when Leslie walked out of the kitchen.

“Ma’am!” she gasped in horror and immediately pressed the alarm on the nearby wall to alert the guards outside as she rushed towards you in an attempt to save you.

“Get back or she dies” Ethan threatens, pressing the gun further to your head.

“It’s ok Les just stay where you are” you say calmly. Two of Tom’s men posted at the gate barged in pointing their guns.

“Put down your gun now or you’ll regret it” they threaten, cocking their guns which made Ethan chuckle darkly.

“You really thought I would be so stupid to do this all alone” he snickers when three men dressed in all black rounded them from behind. They pulled out their guns and within seconds several gunshots were fired piercing through their bodies as both of the guards dropped dead.

“Leslie run!” you shout at her. 

“But…” she hesitates.

“Just go or they will kill you!” you tell her as she unwillingly ran to the back of the mansion to get out of the place.

“Yes, run to your boss and tell him that I got his most prized possession and soon I’ll have this whole city within my palms too” he grins wickedly. He then drags you out of the front door to the driveway where two SUV’s were parked.

“C'mon get inside the car” he nudged you as you reluctantly got in the passenger seat while he sat on the driver's seat and starts the car.

“Ethan you don’t wanna do this” you tried to talk some sense into him.

“Oh hell I wanna do it. Today I take back what is rightfully mine. Now shut the fuck up!” he yelled at you while driving and you flinched feeling utterly helpless.

“Tom is on his way he is gonna kill you and if my dad comes to know” you glared at him.

“I don’t care what that bastard wants, he has been using me to take hold of the drug cartel but I was the one who was using him to set up my own gang to take my sweet revenge. Your daddy thinks he owns the vipers, no honey, it's me who gives them the orders” he laughs when his eyes go to the phone in your hands “give me your phone” he orders.

“Why?” you tried to hide it away from him

“Just give it to me dammit!” he snatched it out of your hand and threw it out of the window on the side of the road “now no one will know where you are” he chuckles darkly speeding away through the traffic.

****

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom stormed inside the house to be met with the two dead bodies of his men in a pool of blood.

“Oh God!” V gasped in horror and the boys were left dumbfounded at the scene in front of them..

“Y/N! Where are you?!” Tom called out again desperately.

“Sir!” a very terrified Leslie came running from the back of the house.

“Leslie, where is Y/N? Answer me!” he demanded.

“They took her sir” she broke down into tears as Tom felt the ground slipping from under his feet. 

“Uggh this is all my fault!” he knocks off the glass sculpture kept on the nearby table out of rage.

“Tom, calm down, get yourself together!” Harrison stops him from breaking any other things further.

“How can I stay calm Harrison?! That bastard took her and I wasn’t even there to save her. Now I don’t know where she is or even if she is alive or not” he laments.

“You need to think clearly, Tom. He won’t do anything to her I’m sure not until he gets what he wants” William remarks and just then Tom’s phone rang with an unknown caller id

“Take it I’m sure it’s him” William advised he pressed the call button as Ethan’s face became visible on the scream. 

“Hey Tom, what’s up man?” he says with a smug grin.

“You scum, where is Y/N?! If you lay a finger on her you’re gonna die a very brutal death!” Tom barked.

“Oh don’t worry, she's alright. For now. Say hi to your husband honey” he mocks flipping the camera towards you. Tom’s heart clenched seeing you tied up to a chair. You looked completely exhausted as you somehow lifted your face up to face the camera.

“Y/N…” he croaks a lump growing inside his throat as he fights back his tears after seeing you being treated like this when you should in the comfort of your home. 

“Tom-Tom, don’t agree to what he says it’s a tra-” you tried to warn him but were quickly cut off.

“Okay that’s enough sweetheart”

“Give me my Y/N back!” Tom growled in rage.

“Woah not so fast not until you give me what I want��� he remarks with a smug grin.

“What the hell do you want?!”

“Nothing much, just hand over your mob and accept my allegiance only then you'll get your wife back. I’m giving you 12 hours to think Tom after that I’ll empty this gun into her head” he threatens and the call disconnects.

“Hey wait!” Tom yells at the dark screen.

“Let’s go! We don’t have much time” Tom was about to rush out when Harry stopped him

“Wait Tom, are you seriously going to hand over everything?”

“I'm ready to give up everything for Y/N. I don't give a fuck about the mob because that’s the reason behind Y/N, my wife, the mother of children is being held captive in the first place!” he snaps.

“Don’t do anything in a rush you don’t want to strengthen your enemy’s power do you?” William remarks..

“Yes Tom, I agree with William too. You do remember what the Coopers did back then before your dad had to kill them himself?” Harrison reminded him.

“Yes I do but what option do we have?” Tom sighed unable to find a way out

“You have an option” V speaks up

“What?” 

“Ask papa for help” she suggests

“Are you out of your mind?! You’re telling me to ask another enemy of ours for help for whom Y/N was almost going to die!” Tom says disapproving her idea.

“Just listen to me for once all this rivalry between you and our dad is just because of the business. If he comes to know that Y/N is in danger he would certainly help cause he loves his family more than anything” she explains.

“Vanessa is right Tom only Victor can help you. The vipers were his gang after all he will know everything and you also need more men to overpower Ethan” William agrees.

“What do you guys say?” Tom looks at his brothers and Harrison.

“You should call him” they all suggest unanimously. After a little pondering Tom took a deep breath and dialed his number.

“You really have the balls to call us after what you did Holland” Julian quipped.

“Julian you gotta listen to me mate this is important. Ethan escaped” 

“Well it's not our problem that he escaped”

“He has your sister Julian” Tom informs.

“And why would I help you to save her who is the reason we are about to lose the whole drug cartel”

“It wasn’t your sister Julian it was Ethan all along he had been double crossing you and using the vipers to grab hold of the drug cartel behind you back”

“So what? We just don’t care now end the call”

“Jules, wait your sister is pregnant” Tom reveals as Julian perks up at the news.

“What? What the hell are you talking about?” Julian asks with concern in his voice.

“She is expecting. I know you have had issues but I also know you care for her and so does Mr. Martinez. I know he is listening to this too. It's your daughter sir and if you really want her to stop hating you then help us take down Ethan” Tom’s voice breaks as he pleads with them.

“Dad?” Julian turned to Victor. 

“I'm gonna kill that bastard myself!” Victor mutters standing up from his chair enraged “everyone to get ready and tell them to meet at the Docklands”

****

After searching for almost three hours your father was able to locate you. You were being held in an old factory near Kennington. They drove to that place as fast as they could and stopped a mile ahead to not alert his goons. Carefully they walked over to the place and took down the guards posted outside surrounding the place. Tom along with Harrison and your father and brother entered the building killing anyone who came in their way. The deserted factory echoed with the loud noise of gunshots and you knew that Tom was here to rescue you.

“You hear that? Tom is here, you’re going to die Ethan” you quipped a knowing smile etched on your face.

“Not so easily” he goes to untie the ropes and pulls you up on your feet pressing his gun against the side of your head.

“Y/N!” Tom barged in.

“Come closer and she dies,” Ethan threatens.

“You might want to reconsider mate” Tom says with a sly smirk

“Why is that?”

“Your sister Meredith, is her name right? And she lives in an apartment near Brixton” he muses “guess what? my brothers happen to be there too” fear washed over Ethan’s face as he realized how the tables have turned and all thanks to your father who knew about his sister and told Tom about her.

“No, keep my sister out of this” he says weakly.

“You left me no choice mate” Tom tsks “it’s over Ethan so let Y/N go and no one gets hurt” he warns him as Ethan removes the gun from your head and lets go of you. You take one quick glance at him and then look at Tom standing in front of you. You immediately strided your way towards him with tears in your eyes but Ethan had something else in his mind. He lifted his gun again and pulled the trigger aiming at your back.

“Y/N!!” Tom shrieked but before the bullet could hit you Victor was on time to pull you in his tight embrace guarding you as the bullet hit him on his right  shoulder. He flinched in pain as you grasped on to his shirt trembling.

“Daddy?” you said weakly glancing up to him with tear filled eyes. 

“It’s ok mija I’m here now. Don’t worry everything is going to be alright” he caresses the back of your head gently as you feel your head spin. The stress was too much for you to handle and you fainted in his arms.

“Go get that motherfucker!” Tom shouted seeing Ethan trying to flee. His men were quick to grab him as Harrison snatched the gun out of his hand and punched him right at his face.

“Jules, take her to the hospital now!” your father instructed. Jules took you from his arms and carried you to the car and immediately left for the hospital.

Tom stalked his way towards Ethan as if he was a prey. He cocked his gun, his gaze stone cold eyes burning with rage. He kicks Ethan on his legs as his knees buckled and he kneeled down on the floor in front of him.

“Tom please let me go I swear I’ll go as far away as possible and never return back” Ethan begs for his mercy.

“You should have thought about it before you decided to shoot Y/N” Tom growled, pressing the gun in between his eyes. But for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to pull the trigger. It didn’t feel right to him.

“Tom, what are you waiting for?” Harrison nudged him.

“I-I can’t, Y/N wouldn’t want this” Tom looked at him unsure of what to do “it’s better we hand him over to the police” he suggests.

“If you can’t I will” Victor interrupts and aggressively points his gun at Ethan.

“No Victor, wait!” Tom tried to stop him but it was too late he had already pulled the trigger and Ethan’s lifeless body collapsed on the ground.

“It’s ok Tom nobody gets away after messing with my family” he shrugs when the blaring of the sirens could be heard from a distance.

“Get out of here right now!” Victor says to Tom.

“But..” Tom hesitates.

“Leave or you’ll get caught too” he insists.

“What about you?”

“I think it’s time for me to pay for my crimes” he sighs looking at the gun in his hand with a contemplating smile etched on his face. The screeching of car tires could be heard as the bellowing of the sirens grew louder which was soon followed by the clamoring footsteps of people in tactical boots. 

“Now go to my daughter she needs you” Victor rushes him “and remember to keep her happy and safe or else I’ll hunt you down too” he warns him.

“Will keep that in mind” Tom smirks and walks out of the place.

“Raise your hands where I can see them!” Grace orders and without a single Victor raises his hands in surrender.

“Victor Martinez you are under arrest for embezzlement and several other crimes including hoarding and smuggling of illegal drugs and murders” Grace states pointing her gun at him along with a team of officers behind her. A male officer was quick to handcuff him. Tom watched it whole from a distance as he was led inside the police van before leaving for the hospital.

You woke up to the rhythmic beeping of the EKG. Your eyes slowly adjust to the lighting of the hospital room.

“Tom..Tom” you mumbled half awake.

“Hey, hey I’m right here” Tom quickly gets up from the couch and holds your hands as you sit up.

“Tom what happened?” you ask warily.

“You fainted honey, your blood pressure went low due to all the stress” he informs.

“What about our babies?” your hand goes to your stomach as you look at him with panic stricken eyes “are they ok? Tom, are they safe?” you rambled out of fear.

“Yes darling, they are safe and healthy the doctor’s confirmed” he assures you gently brushing your hair with his hands.

“Oh thank god” you heaved a sigh of relief.

“I think we should thank your dad too cause if he wasn’t there in time you would have got shot” he remarks.

“I know,” you say, staring at your lap.

“Y/N the interpol and police took your father”

“Well that was going to happen some or the other day anyways” you half shrugged.

“But he saved you, saved us”

“I know and that’s the irony for the first time my dad genuinely showed that cared about me and now I will never see him again” you say with regret in your voice.

4 months later….

You were seated in the huge courtroom of the New York State Supreme Court with Tom, Vanessa and your mother by your side as you awaited the jury’s verdict on the charges you, your father and brother have been indicted with. After your father’s arrest the underworld imploded and most of the leaders went into hiding to save their businesses and escape the law. It was a huge issue in the international media too, the trial went on for three months. You had to travel back and forth to appear before the court for the murders you were charged with. 

Though they could never find any proof against you, your dad and your husband made sure of that. Tom had told you that he had requested the families not to testify against you and they had agreed. But you know his way of requesting people very well : it's pointing a gun at their head. If they don’t agree then they are permanently relieved of their life. 

When you said that to him he laughed it off by saying “that’s preposterous! I would never do that” and you gave him ‘not buying it’ look “okay the old me would but I’m a changed man now and as I promised no violence” he clarified. But you knew better and you didn’t mind this time really cause you didn’t want to abandon this beautiful life you finally got and go to jail. 

Moreover in less than two months there will be two new additions to your little family and you don’t want to miss any of it. You knew that you could never get rid of the blood in your hands and so did Tom but this time you are gonna start afresh for those pure little souls that are coming to light up your entire world and remove the darkness that had been clouding your lives.

“The jury have reached a verdict” the judge’s voice echoed through the silent courtroom and Tom places his hand over yours comfortingly giving you a reassuring smile telling you that everything will be ok “and they unanimously find Victor Martinez guilty of the following charges related to extortion, money laundering, murders and illegal smuggling of drugs. He is being sentenced to lifetime imprisonment” the judge declared.

“Also due to lack of evidence the jury declares Julian Martinez and Y/N Holland innocent and free of all charges” he adds and Tom squeezes your hand gently with a soft smile and a relief in his eyes as you look at him mirroring his smile. 

“The court is adjourned for the day” the judge announced and everybody stood up from their seats to walk out of the room one by one. You watched your dad getting handcuffed and being taken away by the officials as your brother followed them to finish the rest of the formalities that needed to be done before they took your father to the prison. For once you wanted to hug him tight and let him know that you loved him even after whatever went down between you. You wanted to let him know that you have forgiven him, you felt bad for your mother too after all he is her husband.

“Don’t worry honey I’ll be fine” she touches your shoulder breaking you out of your thoughts. 

“I’m really sorry mom you don’t deserve this” you sniffled

“It’s ok, Y/N I knew this day was coming soon and how much ever you feel bad a crime is a crime”

“Mom, you can come live with us. I can talk to Tom, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” you offered.

“No sweetie that’s not happening I’m better off here and Jules will be there I will be perfectly ok. You just take care of yourselves”  

“Hello Mrs Martinez” Tom interrupts.

“Hello Tom”

“Honey it’s quite some time you ate anything let’s get you something shall we?” he suggested to you.

“Yeah I’m feeling a little hungry to be honest” you  remarked.

“I know love, let’s go then there’s a nice café right around the corner of the street” he says as Julian joins you three too.

“All formalities are complete, it’s time for us to leave as well” he informs as you walk to him and held his hands.

“Jules please take care of my mother” you ask him with hopeful eyes.

“I will don’t worry” he pulls you in a hug and kisses your forehead “you guys take care too, alright” you nod and go to hug your mom before leaving the place with Tom.

Tom and you slowly walked out of the court and made your way to the café. Upon entering the shop you saw Vanessa already waiting for you as you went and sat down at the table while Tom went to give your orders. You were a little bit out of breath cause being seven months pregnant with twins is no big joke. You get easily tired now. Your stomach has grown round and big in the past few months which makes it difficult for you to bend down. But Tom was always there for you patiently helping you out. He even signed up for birthing and parenting classes so that you are ready for everything.

“Well finally it’s over isn’t it? You got what you wanted” V chimes.

“Yeah kind of” you sigh “is it wrong though that I feel bad for him?”

“Not at all after all he is our father we have the right to feel bad but past is past we gotta move on” you remarks “so how are the little munchkins?”

“Oh they are doing quite well and also not letting their mother sleep with their constant kicking seems like they can’t wait to come out already and so do I. I really want my precious sleep back” you joked.

“Oh sissy for the next two years forget about sleep cause you will be getting none” V snickers.

“Can’t complain though I voluntarily signed up for it” you shake your head smiling as you pull out a file from inside your bag “here” you say handing over the file to her.

“What is this?” V looks at you cluelessly.

“A deal is a deal, open it” you tell her as she opens the file and goes through the papers. Her eyes widened with shock as she finished reading the last page.

“What?! Are you serious?” 

“I told you I’ll give your rightful share in the family so this is it” you stated.

“But you are giving me the rum and diamond business. That’s yours” she emphasized.

“I know but I don’t have the time or interest to run it and I can’t handle the business in New York while staying in London. Moreover, Tom has decided to start a chain of luxury resorts and since I have a management degree I’ll be helping him to expand it” you explain “so I’m entrusting you with our family businesses. Welcome to the family V” you look at her with a proud smile.

“I’ll not disappoint you” she promises.

“I know you won’t”

..................................................................................

If you want to send blurb requests based on the series I'm more than eager to write so send me your ideas. Also suggest me some cute baby names both girl and boy. I was thinking of going with Beatrice or April and Cole or Ben but would like to hear your opinions as well ❤️

[mandoalorian]

so you have any angsty writings about max raising his voice at u?

my tears ricochet

Maxwell Lord x GN!Reader

Summary: Everyone had warned you that dating your boss would be a bad idea. So when you make a crucial mistake at work, a mistake that leads into your biggest fight yet, you wonder if your relationship with Maxwell Lord will ever be able to recover.

Rating: T

Warnings: ANGST :( a few curses, hurt/comfort with a happy ending, but most of this is very very angst-y. Bruce Wayne makes an appearance (because for some reason, he always does?) and he’s a dickkkkk lmao.

Word count: 2.2k

I haven’t wrote anything in a few weeks, and I haven’t wrote for Maxie in well over a month. Reblogs would be so appreciated because I kinda need the motivation atm ;-;

You never normally messed up, or at least, not like this.

You were a good secretary for the most part, as you’d been working at Black Gold Cooperative for almost three years now. You knew your way around the office, and most importantly, you knew your way around your boss, the dashing and charismatic business mogul, Maxwell Lord.

Everyone had warned you not to mix business with pleasure, and that dating Maxwell Lord was a bad idea because he was your boss. You could get behind that idea; as you’d never really been one to date colleagues or co-workers. But you swore that he was different. They were probably right, you knew that deep down, but you’d made the mistake of falling hopelessly in love with him.

You and Maxwell had been together for half a year now, and things were going good. Things were going better than good. You really believed he could be the one. He seemed happier when he was with you. He smiled more. You gave his life meaning, and a purpose that strived past his failing business.

He treated you different to his other employees. He was softer with you, and more gentle. He never raised his voice or talked down to you. He was a gentleman, and treated you to luxuries on every occasion that he could manage. Work was sometimes difficult, but he was good with you. You had zero complaints, really.

He’d buzzed you into his office, his dark blonde hair a mess and his patterned tie pulled apart. The first three buttons of his white dress shirt were undone and his collar was wonky. You had to refrain from walking over to his side of the oak wood desk and fixing it for him. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing his tan forearms and the golden Rolex that adorned his wrist, and he was staring at you, his dark brows furrowed together.

“I just spoke to Bruce Wayne,” Maxwell started hesitantly, his index finger impatiently tapping away on the telephone.

“Oh?” you hummed. You knew it was coming, but you tried to remain calm.

“He said he didn’t receive the oil distribution report you sent on Friday,” Maxwell said, followed by a wary chuckle. “But I told him you sent it. Because you did send it. Didn’t you?”

You winced, and it didn’t go unnoticed by your boyfriend.

“You sent the reports, didn’t you?” Maxwell repeated, this time his voice having dropped an octave and his eyes staring dead at you. There was no love in his expression, no happiness. Just pure anger and disbelief.

“Uhm…” you trailed off, your voice breaking nervously. “Wayne Enterprises didn’t get the report on last month’s oil distribution because uhm— I sent the wrong thing instead.” you fumbled with your fingers, shyly looking away from your Maxwell.

Max blinked, and stifled a laugh. “What?”

You folded your arms across your chest, feeling vulnerable as guilt coarsed through your veins.

“Uhm yeah,” you replied, ducking your head down. “I thought I sent it but I just— I found the reports on the main desk at lunch time. And I was going to tell you. I just— I just—“

You were flustered, and could feel your cheeks burn up as you stumbled over your words.

“You just what?” Maxwell prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“I just—“

“You just thought you’d keep it to yourself? Thought you wouldn’t tell me just because…? Because of what, exactly? You know this means we could potentially lose millions of dollars,” he raised his voice, sliding out of his chair and leaning over his desk, balling his fingers into fists.

You squeezed your eyes shut. “It was a mistake. A one-time mistake—“

“—a mistake that could potentially cost us thousands—“ Maxwell repeated bitterly. Money was a sensitive subject right now, you knew this. He had every right to be mad, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“—It won’t cost thousands.” you finished, your words trying to ease him. But it came out patronising and you immediately regretted it. Maxwell slammed his hand on the desk before pointing his finger at you.

“Don’t interrupt me!” he shouted.

He’d never spoken to you like this. Hell, you didn’t think he’d ever spoken to anyone like this before. Or at least, not that you’d heard of. His cheeks were red with rage and little beads of sweat glazed his hairline.

You flinched are his tone, not used to him raising his voice at you like that. Max noticed the change in your demeanour and his face softened, his brown eyes widening slightly when he realised what he’d done. He slowly sank back into his chair, ripping his gaze from you. You stood there awkwardly, trying to hold back tears.

Maxwell regulated his breathing and pushed his hair out of his face before pointing to the door.

“Leave.” He ordered, his voice shaky and not even bringing himself to look at you.

Your lips were trembling. “What?” you croaked out, your voice merely above a whisper.

“Just— go home.” he waved his hand in a dismissing manner.

You stood there a little longer, lingering on the other side of his desk and praying that he’d have a change of heart. You didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. Was it a break-up? Was he firing you? Was he simply just telling you to go home?

“Max…”

Your boyfriend rubbed his temples before picking up the phone and re-dialling what you assumed to be Wayne Enterprises. He had nothing else to say to you, so, you sadly sauntered out of his office, quietly shutting the door behind you.

The entire sales team was staring at you as you walked over to the elevator. No doubt they’d overheard the whole fight. Raquel tapped your shoulder and offered you an apologetic smile. “Are you okay?” she asked.

You nodded and forced a grin, desperate to just get outside and feel the cool evening air. The office felt stuffy and hot and you just had to get out. You opted to take the stairs, not wanting to wait for the elevator. You could feel their eyes burn into you as you left Black Gold Cooperative.

It was raining when you got outside, and you managed to catch a cab just down the street.

After a few rings, Max finally pushed through Bruce Wayne’s receptionist and was waiting to get on the line with the big man himself. He breathed a sigh of relief when Bruce picked up.

“Hi, Bruce, it’s me Max. There’s been a mistake with the reports,” Maxwell said quickly, feigning confidence as he tried to forget about the fight that had just happened. But he couldn’t get it out of his head. He was terrified that you’d leave him. He’d leave him.

“Let me guess— it’s that secretary of yours?” Bruce smirked, twirling the phone wire around his finger as he waited for Max to try and salvage the business deal.

“Wh—what?” Max laughed nervously, scratching the back of his neck.

“You know, your arm candy? The one that always accompanies to those charity events and galas? The one you’re fucking on the side?”

Maxwell’s face hardened and his heart dropped in his chest. “Excuse me?”

He hated the way Bruce was talking about you. Bruce was always like that, Maxwell knew that much. He treated everyone like they were lesser than him. Maxwell was able to shrug it off when it happened to him, but he wasn’t going to let it happen to you, too.

“Please, we all know it,” Bruce rolled his eyes. “I learned the hard way about mixing business with pleasure. Never works out, my friend.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Wayne, but you know nothing about Y/N and I. So if we could please get back to the topic at hand…”

“You still want to secure the deal?” Bruce quizzed. “I supposed as much.”

Jesus, he was insufferable. Maxwell knew what it took to climb to the top of the business world. You had to be cold and brutal; everything that Bruce Wayne was. That’s why he was so successful, and truthfully, that was the difference between the two men.

It was probably the reason Black Gold was failing too. Ever since you came into Maxwell’s life, the business had been losing more and more money. Maybe it was because Maxwell worked less, always choosing to favour his time and spend it with you. He wasn’t hardened by the business world anymore. He was softened by you.

Max wouldn’t allow the entrepreneur to hurt the ones he loved. At the end of the day, you were infinitely more important than some reports on oil distribution.

“Wait,” Maxwell paused, unable to escape the invasive thoughts that consumed his mind. Thinking about your glossy eyes and your timid voice, and the way you flinched when he yelled at you. You looked terrified. “No.”

“No?” Bruce repeated incredulously.

“No,” Maxwell confirmed. “I have to go.”

“You’re making a big mistake Lord,” Bruce warned. “If you’re thinking about throwing this entire deal away over some nobody secretary—“

And with that, Maxwell tore the phone from his ear and slammed it down on the hook. He rose to his feet and grabbed his pinstripe suit jacket, hastily throwing it over his shoulder before leaving his office in a rush.

When he got home, you were curled up on the sofa, enveloped in a blanket with balled up tissues scattered around you. When he saw you, his heart broke. He dropped his keys on the coffee table, the noise alerting you. The rattling sound made you jump and you looked over at him, your eyes red and puffy.

“Hi,” you said quietly, watching as he sauntered over to you. He offered you a weak smile before sliding down on the sofa next to you.

“Hi,” he said, gazing into your eyes.

You shuffled around and sighed. “I’m sorry.” you both said at the same time.

You giggled gently, always cherishing the way you and him were so in-sync. Maxwell smiled too, a dimple appearing in his left cheek.

“I thought you hated me,” you admitted with a sniffle, and Max frowned, leaning over and cupping your face with his hands.

“No my love, I could never hate you,” he swore, shaking his head. “I— I’m sorry I yelled at you like that. I got so worked up over this deal and—“

“I know,” you cut him short, pressing the palms of your hands flat against his chest. “You don’t have to apologise. I know. It’s been a stressful few weeks.” you said knowingly.

“Still,” you Maxwell sighed. “It can’t be excused.”

“It won’t happen again?” You asked hopefully.

Maxwell smiled. “Never again, honey,” he promised. “Can I hold you?”

You nodded desperately and nuzzled into his warm embrace. He wrapped his strong arms around you and smoothed out your hair, pressing a chaste kiss into your forehead.

“I love you so much, and I won’t ever let anything come between us again,” Maxwell whispered. “No job or business deal is jeopardising what we have together.”

You smiled, squeezing him tight and never wanting to let him go. “I agree.” you replied, pulling yourself up onto his lap and nudging your nose against his.

Maxwell’s smile spoke a thousand words. It wasn’t the forced smile he showed the world when he hyped up his business on the television. It was his real, genuine smile. The smile only you got to see.

Everyone had warned you not to mix business with pleasure, and that dating Maxwell Lord was a bad idea because he was your boss. But in that exact moment, you wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.

—————————

Permanent taglist: @paintballkid711 @supernaturalgirl20 @phoenixhalliwell @xoxo-callie @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth @moth-guillotine @pedro-pascal-love @hayley-the-comet @pinkninja200 @maxiarapamaya @autumnleaves1991-blog @artsymaddie @harrys-stan @kennedywxlsh @cripplingmoon @cheekygeek05 @mrschiltoncat @rye-flower @theamuz @persie33 @sleepylunarwolf @martellthemandalor @pedro-pastel @steeevienicks @rrtxcmt @saphic-susperia @readsalot73 @softmedics @jade10077 @dodgerandevans @planetariumx @pascals-cat @ajeff855 @spideysimpossiblegirl @smoldjarin @thewayofthemandalorian

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

COSMIC - S1:E1; Chapter One, The Vanishing of Will Byers - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Male!Reader Series

𝘖𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘩𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥'𝘴 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘦, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘞𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘧𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘣𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, 𝘢 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘪𝘳 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥.

𝐍𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟔𝐓𝐇, 𝟏𝟗𝟖𝟑

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒, 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐀

𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐔.𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘

The night is quiet, as it always has been in this small corner of Indiana, and yet this night is unlike any other. The halls were especially bare, occupied only by the melody of the generator humming as it struggled to pump light throughout the twisted maze of halls. That was, until...

BAM

The steel door rips open, colliding fast and hard with the walls withab fantastic thud. Swallowing all remaining silence along with it, was the cry of alarms that flood the hallway as he runs for his life. The man finds himself at the elevator, furiously slamming his hand against the elevator button hoping just maybe it might make the elevator come faster. As he does so, the man continues to look over his shoulder in a panic.

He knows its after him.

BOOM

He knows its close.

The man is thrilled to hear the soft ding of the elevator signaling it's arrival. Before the doors are even opened all the way the man quickly ducks through and proceeds to frantically hit the UP button inside the elevator.

The doors begin to close.

For a second he believes he just might make it. But that doesn't completely cast away the fear as he can't seem to take his eyes off of the eerie hallway, expecting it's arrival. The man attempts to calm his breathing. His hopes of escaping are growing stronger as things quiet down.

That's when he hears it.

That... Thing.

It takes every remaining ounce of courage for the man to slowly look up, but on some level, he already knows he is done for.

A low growl is heard above him followed by an unusual yet terrifying squeak.

The man's screams were cut off with the shut of the doors as he is yanked up towards the ceiling of the elevator. The man is no more.

|| 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

It's quiet. The faint sound of sprinklers outside can be heard as we wait for Mike to continue. We are all on the edge of our seats. It's already hard enough they still can't find proper seating for me since I officially joined the party, so, for now, I'm wedged between my best friend Will and my brother Dustin.

"Something is coming. Something hungry for blood," Mike says, his voice barely above a whisper. "A shadow grows on the wall behind you, swallowing you in darkness."

Subconsciously we all slowly lean in waiting for whatever happens next.

"It is almost here."

"What is it?" Will asks suddenly, no longer capable of containing his curiosity.

This time it's Dustin who cuts in, "What if it's the Demogorgon?"

I take a deep breath in suspense. Out of the corner of my eye, Will practically throws himself back in his seat.

"Oh, Jesus, we're so screwed if it's the Demogorgon." Dustin rambles on.

Lucas speaks up, "It's not the Demogorgon." He sounds very sure of himself which gives me more confidence.

We all jump a little in our seats when Mike slams one of the game pieces down in front of us suddenly as he shouts "An army of troglodytes charge into the chamber!"

I sigh in great relief as Lucas gives a very smug and quite frankly, sassy look to Dustin as he props his elbow on the back of his chair which earns a soft chuckle from me.

"Troglodytes?" Dustin asks in disbelief.

"Told ya," I roll my eyes at Lucas despite the smile that grows on my face.

Everyone shares a good laugh, all of us relieved when my eyes meet Will's and we share a smile and a shake of the head as if silently saying 'I can't believe we were so worried for nothing'.

Simultaneously all of our smiles melt away when Mike starts looking around as he says "Wait a minute. Did you hear that?"

"That...That sound," he says softly.

"Boom... Boom," his voice is getting slightly louder with each 'boom'. We all stare at Mike expectantly, hanging on to his every word.

"BOOM!" Mike is shouting at this point as he slams his hands against the wooden surface making the table as well as all of us jump.

I always get too into these games, I realize. My heart is racing as adrenaline courses through my veins. I look over and it seems when I jumped I grabbed on to the nearest thing next to me which happened to be Will's arm. Sheepishly, I retract my hand and look back at Mike in anticipation.

"That didn't come from the troglodytes. No, that... That came from something else." Mike continues.

We all look around at each other as we wait for Mike.

In an instant, Mike slams down the next figure on the board and exclaims, "The Demogorgon!"

'Yep. We're screwed.'

The silence is replaced with all of our defeated groans. Dustin sighs and says, "We're in deep shit."

Mike suddenly says, "Will, your action!"

"I don't know!" Will sounded desperate.

We're all on edge, but the boys are completely panicking.

"Fireball him!" Lucas shouts.

"I'd have to roll a 13 or higher!"

"Too risky." Dustin cuts in. "Cast a protection spell!"

Lucas turns to Will and says "Don't be a pussy," I roll my eyes. "Fireball him!"

At this point, Lucas and Dustin are just yelling at each other.

"Cast protection."

Our attention is quickly brought back to Mike when he shouts, "The Demogorgon is tired of your silly human bickering! It stomps towards you."

"BOOM!"

"FIREBALL HIM!"

"Another stomp. BOOM."

"Cast. Protection."

"He roars in anger!"

At this point, everyone is yelling over one another; it's utter chaos, and finally I snap.

"Oh, come on, I'M tired of your silly human bickering, just let the boy roll!" It's hard to be heard over all the yelling but, by some miracle,, they manage to hear me and it's quiet for a split second as Will gets a chance to speak.

"And, FIREBALL!" He throws the dice on the table out of excitement and they go flying onto the floor.

"Oh shit!"

We all jump to our feet, scrambling to find the dice in anticipation.

"Where'd it go?" Lucas asks. "Where is it?"

Will almost sounded defensive, "I don't know!"

"Is it a 13?"

"How are we supposed to know if we haven't found the dice yet, Dustin?" I retort.

"Oh, my God! Oh, my God! Oh, my God!" Dustin chants as he paces back and forth. I roll my eyes as I continue to search on my hands and knees.

"Mike," It was Mrs. Wheeler.

"Mom we're in the middle of a campaign!" Mike exclaims.

"You mean the end? Fifteen after."

Mike sighs, exasperated and runs up the stairs.

I hear Lucas accuse Will. "Oh, my God! Freaking Idiot!"

"Lucas," I ease. "come on, it's not his fault. We were all caught up in the game. Let's just focus on- OH! Found 'em!"

I jump to my feet, pointing down at the D-20 for my friends to see and not wanting to tamper with the roll. The boys come running over and practically trampled me in the process.

"Shit, it's a seven." We all groan in frustration, especially Will.

"Does a seven count?" Will asked hopefully.

"Did Mike see it?" Lucas counters.

"Well, no."

"Then it doesn't count."

I sigh, beginning to pack up my bags and tidy up my mess knowing it was time to leave. The others do the same.

"Why do we have to leave?" Will asks sadly as we head up the stairs. "It was just getting good,"

"I know," I swing my arm off his shoulder dramatically with a sigh as we head up the basement stairs and for the garage door. "I know. But hey, just think how awesome the next one will be, eh?" I tease trying to get my best friend to smile.

|| 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥'𝐬 𝐏𝐎𝐕 ||

Y/n has always been so good at cheering people up, I have no idea how he does it.

"Hey, guys. I'm sorry we had to end it so soon." Y/n and I turn around looking at Mike.

"No sweat, Mikey." Y/n shrugs, with a smile.

I love that smile. Suddenly his arm leaves my shoulder, and I frown a little.

I sigh inwardly, I've had such a bad crush on Y/n since he and Dustin moved here in the 4th grade. He has no idea... I hope. I always admired him from afar, that is until he finally convinced Dustin to let him into the party. We were all glad to have him, Dustin can be a little overprotective is all. I'm not sure about Dustin, but as for Mike and Lucas, they know I like him. Those guys can read me like a book, and once they caught on there was no convincing them otherwise.

I'm really lucky to have them as friends. They've never made me feel bad for who I am.

"Hey, Mike? Where is Dustin?" Y/n asks.

That's a good point, I realize. He was right behind us but he hasn't come outside yet.

"I think he went upstairs to give the leftovers to Nancy."

"Oh okay. I'll just wait here then. Uh oh, your plant is dying" Y/n said suddenly, kneeling down by the withering plant by the patio.

"Yeah, that's my mom's tomato plant. That thing is hopeless. She basically gave up on it."

"Well, I might be able to help," he said thoughtfully, beginning to scan the garage. "Where do you keep your gardening- Oh, never mind!"

He quickly runs over to the shelves, retrieving some old packets and ran back over to the plant, kneeling beside it.

You can always tell when he is concentrating; he always does this cute thing where he furrows his brow and chews his lip. My stomach does a little flip when i realize I was staring again and I quickly refocus my attention on my vest zipper. I still manage to see Y/n fiddling with the the packet tonget it open, finally sprinkling the contents into the dirt before mixing it in with his finger. All the while, he mutters words of encouragement towards it. I remember him telling me one day about a study conducted on plants and how it was proved that they respond well to positive feedback, and the memory makes me smile. He was so fascinated by it; it was hard not to be as excited about it as he was when he told us about it.

Y/n stands up, brushing himself off and smiles at Mike and then me.

I kinda froze, not in panic but in awe. He just radiates warmth, and positivity effortlessly.

"What?" He chuckles as he smiles at me.

I shake my head in embarrassment and look away, zipping up my vest and getting on my bike.

Lucas just rolls his eyes at my behavior. He's always telling me to just go for it but it's not that easy. I think he's tired of my bashfulness but still understands why I'm scared.

We all look to the door when we hear it slam. It's Dustin.

"There's something wrong with your sister." He grumbles.

"What are you talking about?"

"She's got a stick up her butt."

"Yeah," Lucas joins in. "It's because she's been dating that douche bag, Steve Harrington."

"Yeah, she's turning into a real jerk."

"She's always been a real jerk!" Mike interrupts.

"Nuh-uh. She used to be cool, like the time she dressed up as an elf for our elder tree campaign." With that, Dustin headed off on his bike, followed by Y/n but not before sending me a smile and thanking Mike.

"It was a seven," I tell him, thinking back on the campaign.

"Huh?"

"The roll, it was a seven. The Demogorgon, it got me."

Mike seems a bit shocked at my truthfulness, but ultimately shrugs it off, nodding. I nod back.

"See you later!" I say as I start peddling away.

I catch up just in time to see Lucas bid his goodbyes.

"Good night, ladies!" He chimes.

"Kiss your mom 'night for me," Dustin calls before looking over at me.

"Race you back to my place? Winner gets a comic?"

Before I can respond Y/n speaks up, "and am I included this time, like at all?"

"Course not," he says nonchalantly. I shake my head, feeling kinda bad for him, but I know it's just sibling banter.

"Well then," he scoffs. "Don't be surprised if your bike tires mysteriously deflate one day, Dustin. There's all kinds of weirdos out here,"

I laugh, and Dustin just ignores him.

"Any comic?" I ask.

"Yeah!" As we are about to start we both look back when we hear Y/n frantically yelling, "Shit! DUSTIN HELP!"

I look back to see him winking at me with a smile on his face. Automatically realizing what he is up to, I booked it.

Fortunately for me, Dustin wasn't so quick. I could hear his frantic cries, "Jesus, Y/n what's wrong-? HEY, WHAT THE HELL?!"

There it is. Although, I was already far ahead.

"DAMMIT Y/N, IF I LOSE YOU OWE ME A COMIC BOOK!"

I can hear Y/n's laughter from here and it makes me smile. As the laughter grows more and more distant, I hear "GO WILL, GO!"

Somehow my smile gets bigger, and my legs go faster.

"Hey! Hey! Get back here! I'm gonna kill you! BOTH of you!"

"I'll take your X-Men 134!" I shout as I pass his house and take the shortcut to my own.

As I slow down my mind starts to wonder; It wanders to the campaign today. It wanders to how Y/n helped me win the race and my new comic book just moments ago. It wanders to Y/n grabbing my arm during the campaign and how I don't think I've ever blushed that hard... My mind wanders to Y/n.

Sometimes I really hate how much I like him. How I can't get him out of my head. He just has always been such a good friend to me and I just don't get how someone can be so nice, and thoughtful and-

My thoughts are cut short when I notice my bike light flickering. I look down at it in confusion. Just then it comes back on. I look back at the road and I see a disturbingly tall, ominous figure staring me down. My heart practically stops in the figure's wake.

My body reacted before my mind could; I yanked my bike right and as I cruise down the ditch, my bike topples over and I'm sent to the muddy ground. It takes me a second to gather my senses as I warily pick myself up and try and get a glimpse of what I just saw. My heart starts racing faster as I hear an alarming and indistinct growling. I'm whimpering at this point but I don't care. I ditch my bike without a second thought and book it as fast as I can in the direction of my house.

I'm sniveling and panting as I make it through the fog that covers the road in front of my house. I make it on to the porch, throw open the door, and slam it shut just as fast. My fingers fumble to secure every single lock on the door and for the first time in my life I wonder why we don't have more. All the while, Chester is barking like crazy.

"Mom?" I'm running through the house looking in every room for any sign of my mom or Jonathan.

"Jonathan? Mom?"

'Crap they must be working. Crap! No No No!'

I run back into the living room and throw the blinds over my head, wincing as it hit the back of my head. But I waste no time in cupping my hands up against the glass to get a better look at the yard to see if I can spot the figure.

My stomach drops what feels like ten stories.

I can see it in the distance right between the sheets that were hung out to dry.

It's just standing there. Menacingly. (a/n: If you understood that reference, and actually thought it was funny let's be friends please 😂)

It starts stomping towards the house.

I gasp and start running for the phone.

I hastily pick the phone up from the mount and my fingers are shaking as I try and dial 911 as fast as possible.

I can hear it ringing. I can hear the click as if someone picked up. I waste no time, "Hello? HELLO?!"

All I can hear over the phone now is static, and then a disturbing, yet familiar screech-like growl. Chester's barking is getting louder and more frequent indicating that It's right outside. I slowly peer around the corner to look at the glass window on the door and I can barely make out the menacing shadowy figuring looming outside the door. I can hear it growling from outside.

Chester's barks quickly turn into whimpers as he backs away towards me.

Then the unthinkable happens.

The chain lock on the inside of the door starts unlocking itself.

'Shit!'

At this point, I realize I'm never going to be able to outrun it so I'm going to have to at least try to defend myself. I remember the gun we keep in the shed out back and make a run for it, not even bothering to hang up the phone. I nearly trip on my own feet as I run for the shed. I make it inside and slam the shed door behind me in the process. I quickly but carefully take the gun off the wall and set it on the shelf as I scramble for the ammo. My fingers are still trembling as I fumble to put the bullets in the magazine.

Once I finally get the magazine in, I pick up the gun and aim it at the shed door waiting. It seems as though I can't even keep the gun steady since my entire body is completely tremoring, even my unsteady breaths.

It has to be close by now.

As if on cue I hear the deep growling that I've already heard twice tonight and for a couple of moments I think it's outside. But then I realize why it sounds so close.

It's in the shed with me.

It's behind me.

The fear is nearing paralyzing, but I still manage to command my body to turn around to get a look at this relentless monster. When I see it I just stand there in utter disbelief, the gun slowly and subconsciously lowering to my side in shock. I'm completely frozen in place as I stare at the beast in front of me. The hanging light bulb above me glows intensively brighter with every passing second. The last thing I see before I'm cloaked in pure white light and an unbearable chill is the monster's long arm reaching out for me.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

❥ Let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist! ❥

[thewritetofreespeech]

hello!! i've made a request before but this idea came in my brain and i heard your requests were open. So ive seen a lot of fics of the brothers saving mc, but what about mc kinda of saving the brothers, i mean like badass sword fighting style. Just like a stereotypical disney prince saves a princess mc kinda saves the brothers from getting killed by a lesser demon with a sword and just being badass (and sword) and the bros find it hot (weak humans? never heard of them)

*spongebob narrator voice* 400 years lat’er..... So sorry this took so long! I genuinely don’t know why I couldn’t get it done. When I actually tried, I got it done in like 2 days. My only excuse is that I’m a horrible trash munny >.<

Obey me Boys + Power Princess MC

Lucifer

It offends him that this creature, this being not fit to lick the soles of his boots, would raise their hand to him. The attack was not even what upset him, but just the gall. The utter stupidity of this decision to throw one’s life away. The fact that they had attacked with you around only made him wish to end that pathetic life that much sooner.

“Step back [Y/N]. I’ll deal with this quic—” Lucifer cut himself off when you rushed forward. A bright shining sword in your hand as you lunged. Slashing through the demon, who wailed and instantly turned to dust & ash. “What on Earth was that?”

“Oh. It’s my sword.” You reply nonchalantly. Turning around to show it to him. “It’s a holy arc sword, or something. I can summon it from my bracelet whenever I need it. Cool to know it actually works in a pinch.”

“And where did you get such a magical artifact?” Lucifer asked. Perplexed beyond reason, but trying not to show it.

“Lord Diavolo gave it to me when I first got here.” The demon arched a brow. Lord Diavolo? “It would be really irresponsible of him to just let a human wander around hell without some kind of weapon.”

He paused for a moment. Trying to piece all of what you had just said together. Then he just chuckled. “Yes, I suppose it would be.” And here he thought that he had been the only one protecting you. When all along you could do it yourself.

His hand reached out to pat your head fondly. His breast swelling with pride. “I’ll have to thank him for giving you such a thoughtful, practical gift. We’ll also have to add sword play to your lesson plans. I’d be more than happy to be your tutor.

Mammon

‘Shit!’ Mammon mentally cursed as he was hit again.

This wasn’t the first time he’d been rough up outside a club. Given his lifestyle, and his gambling track record, he’d been pummeled by a few bouncers in his life. With his immense power, he could easily take them; if he tried. But then he would be banned from the club, and ever other, and that was something he couldn’t handle over the humiliation of being beat up by these clowns. He needed this. It was all he had.

So, he took his beatings from lesser demons when they came around. He’d only wished they’d picked a different night to get their ‘payment’ back since you were supposed to be here soon.

“Come on guys. Don’t ya think you’ve had enough?”

“We’ll tell you when we’ve had enough!” One demon sneered at him, before kicking a man while he was down. Classy. “You owe us. And we’re gonna get back every cent you owe out of your hide!”

The demon reared his foot back to kick him again, and Mammon mentally sighed. Preparing himself for the kick and really being over this since it began. But….no kick came.

The demon let out a loud grunt over the sound of a metal ‘wack’ before the two, even lesser goons beside him suffer the same fate and they all slump to the ground. “Mammon! Are you ok?!”

The silver haired demon looked up at you in shock. The light from the street lamp causing a halo to form around you, highlighting your worried face as you brandished a rusty pipe like some great sword. “Yeah…I’m fine….”

“You don’t look fine! You’re all beat up!” He just sat there as you dropped the pipe and dropped down to him. Fretting over him as you looked him over. He couldn’t hear what you were saying over the beating sound of his heart in his ears.

No one had ever tried to help him before.

Mammon lifted his arms and wrapped them around you. “Mammon? What—“Let’s get out of here.” He interrupted as he hugged you. Standing up, and helping you to your feet, after a moment to walk out of the alley. “I don’t want to be here anymore. I wanna go somewhere with you.”

“But….I thought you wanted to go out tonight. Play cards. You said you were feeling lucky?”

He couldn’t tell if that was a jab or not, but replied, “well clearly I was wrong.” Though despite his bumps and bruises, he did still feel pretty lucky right not. “I just want to get out of here. I don’t need this anymore.” You both decide to head home to help Mammon nurse his wounds. He never went back to that club, or really any club, after that night.

Levi

“Levi….I don’t think this is such a good idea.”

“Nonsense!” Levi quipped in response to your perfectly reasonable, concerned feelings. “It’s just a little further. Besides, I want to see Henry 1! I’ve missed him a ton recently, and want to make sure he remembers me.” It had broken his heart to discover his poor, lost serpent had been down here, all alone, this whole time. So he made an effort to see him every now and then.

“Yeah but…isn’t this still like super-secret for Lord Diavolo’s family and stuff? What if there’s like booby traps and stuff?”

“Come on! There weren’t any booby traps or anything before. Why would he when he has Henry to keep it…..” Levi trailed off as both of you were ingulfed by a long, dark shadow. A low hissing sound growing louder as a gold, stripped serpent towered over you with a menacing glare. “That’s not Henry.”

The snake hissed loudly with bared fangs and an open mouth, and you both scream and run to get away from it.

The serpent of course chased you. Easily able to keep up, and only loosing you when the two of you duck into a narrow corridor. Levi turned around to say something to you, but you were gone. His immediate thought was that the stranger snake had gotten you, and it was all his fault, and he would never see you again!

When he came to the end of the corridor, walking out like a man on death row instead of running, he looked up to see the snake in front of him. Clearly angered by having to chase him. Levi didn’t care. He wanted to die if anything happened to you. He’d rather die than live one moment without you.

Prepared to accept his fate, the demon didn’t move when the snake unhinged his jaw to eat him in one gulp. Only for a sharp spike to thrust out from his mouth a moment later. A strange, hissing gasp escaping it before it slumped down in a lifeless heap on the floor. “[Y/N]!”

“Jesus! Not to put too fine a pin on it, but this place is literally a maze. One minute I’m next to you, and the next I’m in some armory on the other side of the hall 50 feet away. Are you alright Levi?”

The demon scrambled up the snake corpse to stand next to you and wrapped his arms tight around your being. “[Y/N]! I was so scared! I thought this Henry imposter got you, and you were dead, and I couldn’t think of anything!”

“I’m really ok Levi.” You assure him, as he wept into your shoulder. “Do you still want to see the real Henry? I think I spotted where he actually is when I was running back with the spear?” Levi nodded into your shoulder. Still not prepared to let you go.

Satan

Satan always tried to be a reasonable man.

He hated being referred to as ‘The Demon of Wrath’. It wasn’t his wrath that had caused him to be born. And he wasn’t any angrier than his brothers, so why did he have to be labeled the ‘bad seed’? So he always tried to be level headed. Calm. Patient. But there were somethings he just could not abide. Like the boorish behavior of someone talking loudly in the library.

“Excuse me,” the blonde said, attempting to remain calm, as he came over to the rude demon two tables over, “could you please keep it down? This is a library.”

“Yeah. I know what it is.” He quipped back rather snippily. “What are you? The librarian?”

“No. Just a fellow book lover.” Satan replied. Grinding his teeth now. “And one who can follow the rules and basic social decorum of keeping my conversations to myself in a place like this.”

“Are you calling me stupid?!”

“No. I’m calling you uncouth. A word meaning undignified, and without manners.”

“Why you!”

The demon rose to his feet, towering over Satan now that he was standing. Not that it mattered. Height was not an immediate representation of strength. Look at Belphie. His younger, shorter brother could level a whole city with a flick of his wrist. Satan could easily dispatch of his imbecile without even breaking a sweat.

He never got the chance though, as just after he stood the demon let out a grunt and slumped to the floor; with you standing behind him on his depleted chair with a book in your hand like you had just pulled it from The Stone. “Bet you’re glad I think Kindles are dumb now.”

Satan had to right himself on what he was seeing, and then frowned at you. “I never said that, and get down.” He insisted. Offering you his hand to get down. You hop down with ease and set your weapon book on the table. “Honestly, I could have handled him without resorting to violence or cheap theatrics.”

“Cheap?? This book was very expensive.” You insist, and Satan had to scoff.

“Be that as it may, please do not use books for more than their intended purpose. I appreciate the assist, but I can’t have you hurting yourself or fine literature in the future.”

“You’re such a buzz kill sometimes Satan…..”

Asmo

Asmo always loved going to the club. The dancing. The energy. The pulsing music. The people.

Well…usually the people. Some people, usually bro-dude demons, just couldn’t take a hint that ‘no’ meant ‘no’.

“Come on Asmo! Why are you being so stingy?!”

“I’m not being ‘stingy’,” Asmo replied with a frown marring his beautiful face. “I’m just not interested.”

“You were interested last time.” His pursuer replied. Like that somehow gave automatic permission that things would happen again.

“That was a long time ago.” The dusk haired blonde replied. Sipping his cocktail and looking thoughtful across the spacious VIP lounge over to you.

Yes, things had certainly changed. Once where it would take a whole room of people and attention to make him content, these days all he wanted was you. Just you sparing a moment to look at him made his heart feel incredibly full. He had come here to have a fun night out with you, but it seemed no matter where he went his beauty was always causing problems.

The lesser demon frowned, then looked towards the direction Asmo was looking to land on you. “Shoot, just bring them along with us.”

“Excuse me?” Asmo asked. Beautiful expression turning Ignatius as he sat down his drink.

“Bring them along. I’ve never had sex with a human. But there must be something to it if you’re willing to do them. Not that I suppose that takes much….”

At that, Asmo leapt from his chair and grabbing the brute by the collar. He wasn’t normally one for violence. He wasn’t like his dull brothers. But he couldn’t let a slight like that against you slide. “Take it back!”

The two demon’s scuffle. Clearing out the VIP lounge as everyone ran. Scared that they might transform at any moment and literally tear each other apart. Asmo somehow ended up on his back, a position that usually didn’t bother him, as the other reared back to punch him in the face.

Or, at least he would have if he didn’t start convulsing and fall on the ground a moment later.

“Asmo! Are you ok?!”

The Lust Demon looked at you for a moment. Then delicately covered his mouth with both hands. Returning to normal. “[Y/N]! You saved me!!”

“Yeah. This little thing packs a punch.” You replied. Holding out your little pink taser from She-Sword from your clutch. “I couldn’t let this jerk hurt your beautiful face.”

“No one is more beautiful than you my fierce warrior queen!” He praised. Basking in the moment for only a second before you both scamper off before security came.

You both might be beautiful, but you didn’t want to end up on the evening news.

Beel

“I want to take up kendo.” Beel announced to you one day. Out of the blue. “I’ve been looking for ways to add variety to my workout. I came across this video on kendo and thought it would be fun.”

Of course, Beel knew you had practiced kendo in the past at school. So he might have also been looking for fitness activities for you to do together. In any case, he really liked seeing you in your little workout outfit. It was super cute.

He also liked you showing him the basics of kendo; stance, footing, basic strike movement. When he felt he had gotten the hang of it, Beel jovially asked for a sparring match with you.

“I don’t know….”

“Come on [Y/N], sparring with someone is the best way to learn fighting.” He reasoned. “Besides, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“I’m not worried about that….” He heard you mutter under your breath, but thought that he must have imagined it as you squared off.

Standing across from you in the arena, something changed. The hair on the back of Beel’s neck stood up. Not in the excited way that it normally did when he saw you. But something more….primal. His grip tightened a little more as he realized he might have to get a little serious with you.

It was all for nothing though as the match was over just as soon as it started.

The shinai went flying out of his hands, landing across the room just as Beel landed on his butt. His backside throbbing as his bell was rung clear as day. He rubbed his head as he looked up at you. “I may have forgotten to mention that I was three-time national kendo champ all through school.”

The demon looked up at you with a shiny, sparkly gaze only until now reserved for delicious food. “Teach me sensei!”

Belphie

He hated being out. He wanted to go home.

Being outside in the sun, with all these…..people was hell to him. Belphie would rather be home, in actual hell, with his blanket and pillow and quiet, rather than ‘top side’ with you for the whole afternoon. Not that it was you or anything. You were the only bright star on this miserable day. He’d be damned if he’d let one of his brothers spend the day with you when he could.

“Belphie, do you want an ice cream? Maybe that will help with the heat?”

He wanted to say that the only thing that would help him was getting the hell out of here. But, he bit his tongue. The demon knew how important this was to you to come ‘home’ now & then and he didn’t want to ruin it for you. So he just nodded and asked, “strawberry please.”

He sat in the shade as he watched you go over to the ice cream truck alone. Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe he was just a hopeless shut in. Like Levi, only worse. He just wanted humans so much that being around them was making him crankier than normal today.

“Geez, get a look at that side show over there.”

Belphie looked up from his daze at the human who was a few yards away from him. Snickering and staring with his friends in a voice that a regular human wouldn’t be able to hear. “If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck.” Again, he was very cranky.

The human was obviously taken aback at being heard and then called out like that. “What did you say to me?!” He yelled, once he got his bearings on the situation, and took a ‘threatening’ step forward to see if he would repeat it.

“I said ‘If you have something to say, then say it, you chicken shit fuck’.” Of course he repeated it. “Don’t mutter something under your breath like a coward. Say it like a man, or keep your gross mouth shut.” This was why he hated humans. No spine.

Well, metaphorical spine. If he kept this up, Belphie was gonna prove that he had a spine when he ripped it out and made him wear it as a neck tie.

“You little fuck--!” Belphie, of course, didn’t move when he stomped closer. Not that he needed to, because he was stopped in his tracks rather abruptly when you stepped between then. Holding a knife from your pocket.

“I suggest you get out of here, before the only ‘side show’ around here is your knife swallowing act pal.” The man seemed to frozen for a moment as he tried to process if you were serious. Then his flight instincts kicked in and he took off running with his friends across the park. “Gosh, I think I’ve been spending to much time with you guys. I never would have done anything like this before.” You said after a sigh, then turned back to Belphie.

“My hero.” He cheered softly, in his typical tired voice but still with a soft smile. Seeming extremely proud of the bad influence he was on you.

[fairydxll]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐫 | 𝐝. 𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐟𝐨𝐲

➳ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Draco has doubts about whether or not he is a good father after his daughter throws a tantrum.

➳ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | dad!Draco x fem!reader

➳ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Fluff and a little bit of angst

➳ 𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 | Harry Potter

➳ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 909

𝐚/𝐧 ~ This one just kinda came to me bc I was craving some dad!draco. Hehe enjoy ☺️

masterlist | taglist

“I can’t! I have work to do!”

“I’m sorry,” said y/n, “but you have to take her. I have really important business that I absolutely can’t miss”.

Draco let a sigh escape his mouth as he watched his wife standing in front of him. “Alright”

“I love you”

“I love you too,” he said in defeat. Y/n gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and then headed out the door. This was the fourth time this month Draco has had to skip work to take care of his and y/n’s daughter, Rosalie. Usually, they would just get a babysitter, which is what they had been doing since Rose’s birth a year ago; But lately, their usual, Hermione, had been all too busy to help out. So, Draco and y/n have been forced to both work full-time jobs as well as take care of a toddler full-time. Of course, this was not easy for either of them. With Draco working in the Ministry and y/n working as an Auror, this had proven to be quite a challenge. And to make matters worse, Rose was having a clingy phase which meant that she wanted, no had to be around mummy at all times. If she were not, she would burst into tears and throw the biggest temper tantrum a one-year-old could manage. The only other thing that could calm her down in one of her “episodes” was her pacifier.

Luckily for Draco, Rose was still sound asleep upstairs which meant that he had enough time to do something with his day before she woke up. 

Draco started to clean up around the house making his way through the formal living room into the kitchen. He looked at the clock to see that it was 3pm. ‘Rose must be up by now’ he thought. Draco made his way up the stairs to his daughter's bedroom, opening the door slowly as not the wake her up if she was still sleeping.

When he entered the room he noticed her holding her favorite stuffed animal and giggling. Draco stood there for a second; a big grin appearing on his face. “Hey princess,” he said.

“DADDY” Rose practically screamed as she stood up and held on to the bars of the crib. 

Draco ran over to her and picked her up, “Are you hungry?” She made a sound that would’ve just sounded like gibberish to anyone else, but Draco understood perfectly and carried her downstairs. He placed her in her high chair and gave her some peas. He tried to get her to eat some but she was hesitant.

“Here comes the airp-”

“NO! I want Mummy!”

Draco sighed, “Mummy’s not here right now Rosie”

“I WANT MUMMY!” Rose started to throw a tantrum; flailing her arms about, knocking the peas to the floor, and rocking the high chair.

Draco picked her up and tried his best to console her but she was not having it. He set her back in the high chair and went to go look for her pacifier. By this point, her little pale face was firetruck red and her short hair was even messier than it had been before.

He tried his best to remain calm, but let’s face it, Draco was panicking. Turning things upside down looking for his daughter’s pacifier. Rose no longer throwing a tantrum, but balling her eyes out. Draco returned to his daughter, angry because he couldn’t find her binky, and heartbroken because of his Rose. He carried her back up to her room. This time, she wasn’t fighting him, but clinging to him and sobbing in the crook of his neck.

Draco sat in the big armchair by the window in Rose’s room and set her on his lap as he tried to calm her down. Eventually, her sobs turned into zzz’s. Draco continued to stroke her hair as silent tears rolled down his face. He felt like a horrible father. The sun was just setting outside Rose’s window. ‘I can’t even calm down my own daughter’ he thought.

Draco continued to hold Rose close to his chest, just as y/n appeared in the doorway. “What’s wrong, darling,” she said lovingly.

Draco looked up to see his beautiful wife standing next to the armchair. He wiped his tears and laid Rose down gently in her crib. “It’s nothing. I just...,” Draco stammered.

Y/n cupped his face with her hands and smiled at him, signaling at him to continue.

“I feel like a horrible father y/n. I can’t get Rose to eat; I can’t calm her down when she throws a tantrum. I lost her pacifier, the ONLY thing that calms her down, besides you. And lastly, she only ever wants you”.

“Dray...” y/n started, “you’re not a horrible father”

“Yes, I am. I-”

“Hey!” She interrupted him, “you got her to sleep, didn’t you? She fell asleep clinging to your chest”

“Yea, but-”

“No! You are not your father. You are miles and miles ahead of him. You are a better father to Rosie than he will ever be” y/n could already see Draco’s features starting to relax. “It’s normal for little kids to be clingy to their mums”

“I guess you’re right”

“That cause I am” y/n smirked as she pulled Draco in for a hug that was well deserved.

“Thank you” he mumbled into her neck.

“Of course, my love”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆