#if i hear the words money talks but wealth whispers one more time.............

[lavenderprose]

Emmrich actually IS the suave and charismatic gentleman we've all been waiting for. Forget your Alistairs and your Cullens. Emmrich says dear and darling and has enough Big Dick Energy that you sense him coming from three rooms away. What's that shift in the air? Emmrich's natural necromantic aura touching the Fade? Well yes but also the sound of his monster cock swinging in his perfectly tailored trousers.

Emmrich talks to Rook like there's a love letter addressed to them specifically lodged in his voice box. He touches them like he paid money for the privilege. Emmrich uses his wealth to help others, he is NOT a person who desires power, and he expects the same of others. One time he looked at Rook and said, "The only good noble is a dead one," and even though Rook knew he was talking about the residents of the Necropolis, or perhaps because of that, it made Rook so wet they had to go sit down against a tree and bang their head a little to calm down.

Sometimes Rook shows up in Emmrich's room of an evening and without even missing a beat Emmrich says, "Come have a seat, darling," and Rook sits next to him only for him to tut and pat his knee. Immediately, Rook is perched there like he's Santa Claus.

"The things one can sense when truly in tune with the fade are inspiring," Emmrich says, and other such nonsense as his touch finds the path of least resistance to Rook's skin without hesitation. His fingers are cool and kind and they trace up the side of Rook's ribs like they might slot perfectly between them, like Rook was built as a home for his hand.

"You're killing me," Rook says, because he is, because Rook could actually choke and die from how badly they want to feel Emmrich's mustache on their thighs.

"Yes, but only a little death," Emmrich says. He smiles and his bangles jingle merrily away as he plays with Rook's chest. "Every time I touch your body, I'm already longing for the moment I'll touch it again."

"Guh," says Rook. "Hrng. Hunh."

"I quite agree. I find that words fail me when it comes to...how you make me feel, dearest." This is what Emmrich says, but fails utterly to demonstrate as he leans in and delicately bites Rook's earlobe, whispering seventeen of the twenty filthiest things Rook has ever heard. Things like I'll eat you like a cake, though you're more delicious and the Fade sings your name when I'm in you and--

"If I have to hear ONE MORE THING about that necromancer's cock," seethes Solas, who did NOT know that he was signing up for nightly pornographic lullabies when he decided to kick it in the back of Rook's head. This is the fourth time he's said that this week. He will hear many, many more things about that necromancer's cock.

"YES EMMRICH," echoes through the Fade, "Gods YES, harder! Give it to me!"

The spirits of the Fade, who like Emmrich a whole helluva lot more than they like Solas right now, twirl and giggle.

[lemonhemlock]

i find this obsession with stealth wealth that's been brought about in the wake of succession so funny bc ........... as a lady myself i found the female characters' outfits so monumentally boring like i wouldn't be caught dead wearing whatever dull lifeless arid pieces they put on no matter how expensive. also the ugliest fucking jewelry i've seen in my life

[afewfantasies]

Lucky Strike 🎯 🎱 - PRESENT - III

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Pairing: Benny Cross (Bikeriders) X Reader

Summary: You and Benny reconnect and learn a little about your lives here and now.

Warning: Allusions to troubled pasts and excessive alcoholism.

Word count: 2K

Heart racing, Benny drives the speed limit for once in his life. He prays against seeing any cops on the way to the cemetery. There was no time to wear anything aside from his colours to make the funeral, to see you. He didn’t know if there would be another chance to see you in person. After the reaction from the guys he wanted to see your transformation for himself. Approaching the gates he slows to a stop looking at the old cemetery gates, the vision of something from a horror film. Rows of wooden crosses and poorly made headstones. A final resting place for those who didn’t accumulate enough wealth to end their time in a nice place. A touch too nice of a final resting place for the man being buried but alas it wasn’t his choice to make. Getting off his bike he waits at the gates instead of causing a commotion. Looking across the flatland Benny finds a small congregation of people and hears a wailing woman. The people pass heading into cars shakily with a few men leaving you there looking onto the plot of dirt. Benny didn’t understand why you’d come all this way. Your father had been a monster and you knew that intimately. The cars clear out and the people disperse before Benny makes his way to your side. There are whispers and looks as he walks on the gravel road. He finds you looking down at the freshly tossed on the ground where your boogieman is being laid to rest. He knows it’s you because unlike everyone else you’re dressed to the nines. You smile knowing its him at the sight of worn boots next to your shoes. Nothing needs to be said, you rest your head on his shoulder and his hand finds yours instinctively.

“Good riddance” you mutter tossing the final carnation into his grave.

“Y/N?” The call comes from behind you. Letting go of Benny you turn to see the woman that sent for you. Your fathers new wife, the woman he decided to settle down with once the liver failure set in.

“We’re gonna head to the reception now.” Carla says looking Benny over with judgement and confusion. “Hello” she says only to get a nod from your oldest friend.

“Go on” you smile ignoring your grandmothers prying eyes along with everyone else who’d enabled your fathers deplorable behaviour making excuses for an abusive drunk.

“You came with us remember” Carla smiles.

“I know my way around” you mutter and reluctantly they leave before you take your first look at Benny. Smiling you see he’s grown out of the awkwardness and is even more gorgeous in person. He’s breathtaking. You throw yourself at him unable to contain your excitement and Benny catches you lifting you off the ground as he holds you tight spinning you around. You laugh and squeal like a kid again overwhelmed to see him alive and well.

“So you’re an outlaw now?” You smile pinching his cheek and pulling away to get a better look at him.

“Yeah” he smiles from ear to ear. There you are holding onto each others hands again like before your mothers ripped you a part.

“You look good in leather” you laugh touching his kutte.

“You just look good” Benny laughs and it’s a wonder he’s as gorgeous as he is.

“Thanks” you beam starry eyed, happy to have found him again all these years later. “It’s really you” you laugh and Benny nods as you hold onto his arms.

“And it’s you” he says kissing your forehead in a warm gesture. There’s another hug, this one less hyperactive but just as meaningful.

“So it was you who posted my bail?” Benny asks.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you lie but Benny knows better.

“What happened to our truth truce?” Benny asks bringing back fond memories.

“I saw you on TV and went down the the precinct,” you confess.

“Thank you, I’ll send you the money” he says far out of his depths.

“I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you. The money’s nothing” you respond holding his hand. Every good memory from your childhood is with Benny. And that’s worth way more to you than $250 you would’ve spent carelessly.

“So what you’re hit the lottery?” He asks.

“My Ma did. She’s married to an old guy who’s very well off. He has no daughters and always wanted one.” You explain.

“You married?” Benny asks.

“Will be next valentines day” you tell Benny but your smile doesn’t touch your eyes.

“He a good man?” Benny asks.

“Decent, comes from a good family and makes good money. He works a lot so I have a lot of freedom. It’s nice” you smile.

“Doesn’t sound like you’re in love” Benny comments as you arrive at his bike.

“Think any of them would love me if they knew I came from this?” You ask looking around at the dead end cemetery in a dead end town. “I don’t have the privilege of being delusional to how the world works Benny. Besides what would someone like me know about love?” you ask tickled. It was like old times so fast. 

“I thought that’s what women do all day, daydream about love and marriage” Benny shrugs and you scoff.

“Don’t think Benny” you laugh shaking your head as you look him over again. The pull to him is so magnetic. He smiles at your playful jab and you walk into his arms again.

“I don’t much” he confesses holding you tight. He kisses the top of your head taking in your perfume.

“I missed you Benny” you confess looking up at him.

“I missed you too. How long are you here?” Benny asks.

“A week, the folks brought me down here to run me dry and have me pay off the drunks depts” you explain.

Benny raises a brow,“Who’s he owe?”

“Couple of bars,” you shake your head at how nothing had changed.

“I’ll take care of it” Benny promises sitting on his bike. You look him over again and it makes you smile that he’s alright. You hug him again overwhelmed by how happy you are to see him.

“Benny, I’ve missed you so much.” You repeat his arms again, in your whole life there’d never been a person like Benny. He was your right hand, he always fought for you, stood with you, made you feel safe. Its something even riches can’t compare to. “Tell me everything!” Your excitement is contagious and Benny’s eyes sparkle.

“What about the reception?” He asks.

“I’m not going. I’m happy he’s dead - better off that way” you confess making Benny smile.

“How are you gonna ride in a dress?” Benny asks pointing to his bike. Rolling your eyes you get on making use of the length and space for your legs in the a line dress. When you're comfortable Benny tries withholding his smile as he gets on. “Don’t let go” he says challenging you.

He starts the engine and then tears off. Letting go you throw your hands off and scream out in excitement. The two of you had been kindreds and no stranger to living on the edge together. You have more to live for than the average person after spending your childhood terrified and powerless. Benny finds himself laughing at your bravery, admiring that you were fearless too or that you just trusted him. When you arrive at the clubhouse there are a slew of bikes parked out front. You're sure your hair is in a state and you manage to fix in Benny’s rearview mirrors. The guys whistle some more until Benny shoots them glares that says take it easy.

“Look who’s back” Johnny smiles.

“I’ve never been around so many degenerates,” you comment making the boys hush. You laugh at their sensitivity when they all get serious. “ You ought to show me how you really party!” you smile at Johnny encouraging the bad behaviour. The boys hoot and holler bringing on the drinks and debauchery. Billiards, darts, drinking games you name it they’re partaking with the exception of Johnny. Wild as they think they are, the boys have nothing on the party boys at college with the exception of metal and leather. You enjoy their company and the clubs camaraderie. They try to impress you but none of them could ever mean anything more than friendship to your heart. Benny watches as you embrace all of the Vandals, laughing and talking with them. Encouraging their drinking games, listening to their stories and not playing too precious. He watches from afar giving you space as you trow a few shots back. His heart grew warm seeing you smiling and carefree. On the outside no one would ever expect you’ve come from what you did. But you don’t rest on those laurels, embracing the good and disposing of the bottom. You have no airs and graces and Benny admires that. When the nights over you can barely walk in a straight line, for once - Benny’s as sober as a judge.

“Take my car” Johnny tells Benny tossing him the keys, knowing the back of a bike is unsafe for you right now. “You're a real treat Y/N, pleasure to meet you” Johnny says shaking your hand.

“Likewise and take care of Benny” you sway a little before getting in.

“We will, take care love” Johnny smirks shutting your door.

The minute the car pulls off the motion is too much and you hurl out the window.

“Drive!!!!” You shout between your retching. You don’t want the guys to see you weak. Benny drives until you can turn a corner and you’re finally finished. The consequences of your actions have wasted no time. Benny removes his leather and then takes off his t-shirt before using it to clean off your face and the back of your wrist with an amused smirk.

“First time drinking?” He asks as you sit on the curb.

“Like that, YEAH!” you confess and he chuckles having a seat beside you. If he’d been a dreamer even his dreams couldn’t have imagined you to be any better. Looking him over you see he’s got defined muscles now and an impressive frame.

“How are you feeling” he asks after sitting with you for a few minutes. Looking up at the streetlights you sigh deeply before looking back at Benny.

“Like I’ve been holding my breath for all these years and I can finally exhale” you confess. Taking your hand Benny kisses it with understanding eyes before pulling you in against his warm skin on the hot summer night. The slow steady beat of his heart, synced perfectly with yours is proof he knows exactly how you feel.

“Come on let’s get you back to the hotel” he mumbles getting up before he can help you. He gets the passenger door for you shutting it when you get in. The ride to the hotel feels too short and you sit in the car silent for a few moments before reaching for the door.

“Do you have somewhere to be?” You ask Benny.

“No” he shakes his head and you nod holding out a hand. He gets looks again as he holds your hand heading into the hotel’s fancy elevator. Your room is up high and he’s never seen a view like that. You open the fridge and get him a soda before calling room service to order burgers and dogs. Benny looks around feeling insecure as he sees your normal. He gets the food from the door while you freshen up from your sickness on the way. When you return without any make-up or finery his heart swells. 

“What?”

“You’re gorgeous” Benny compliments.

“Thanks, Benny” you smile having a fry. “Now tell me everything” you say again and he does. You talk about everything in your life until sunrise when you fall asleep together on the hotel rooms kingsized bed.

Authors Note: Thanks so much for reading🩵 🎆 ! Don't forget to comment, like and reblog.

FOR FUN what was your favorite moment? Mine was when Benny took the shirt off his back to clean you up. Thats a special king of love and closeness. Which one was your fav?

TAGS: @mrsalwayswrite @ughdontbeboring @astrogrande @palomavz @hrlzy

[charlieg1rl]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄!𝐀𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀!𝐀𝐔

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐇𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝟏𝐊

𝐒𝐒:𝟓

You were minding your own business at the bustling student café, immersed in a mountain of textbooks and scattered notes as you prepared for your upcoming exams. The café was your sanctuary during this chaotic period—an oasis where the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the lively chatter of your classmates. The sunlight streamed through the large windows, casting a warm glow on the polished wooden tables and creating an inviting atmosphere that often made studying just a little more bearable.

As you took a sip of your steaming drink, letting the warmth seep into you and invigorate your senses, you couldn’t help but momentarily lose yourself in your thoughts. Your eyes drifted over the pages filled with highlighted notes and scribbled formulas, your mind racing with the daunting weight of upcoming assignments and exams. You sighed softly, trying to push away the creeping anxiety that threatened to overwhelm you. Just as you were starting to lose focus, a sudden presence broke your concentration.

You looked up, startled, to find Hwang Hyunjin standing beside you. He was one of the most popular guys on campus, a member of the illustrious dance crew known for their dazzling performances and charismatic presence. Today, however, there was something unusual in his eyes—an intensity that suggested he had something important on his mind. His hair fell perfectly over his forehead, framing his face in a way that made him even more striking. He flashed that trademark smile that made your heart race, but today, it sparked more curiosity than the usual flutter of attraction.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said, leaning casually against the edge of your table, his presence suddenly making the café feel smaller. His confidence radiated, and you could sense the allure he exuded, a combination of charm and mystery that was hard to ignore. “Can we talk?”

“Sure,” you replied, your voice slightly hesitant but tinged with intrigue. “What’s up?”

Hyunjin shifted his weight, his casual demeanor faltering just a fraction as he hesitated, as if gathering his thoughts. “I have a… proposition for you.” He paused for a moment, his confidence seemingly wavering. “I need a fake girlfriend.”

You blinked, taken aback by his bluntness. “No.” You answered without a second thought, surprised at how quickly the word had escaped your lips. The absurdity of the request hung in the air, and you couldn’t help but wonder why someone like him would even think of you.

“Please, Y/N,” he urged, his voice almost pleading, a hint of desperation creeping into his tone. “Just hear me out.”

You raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched on your features. “Why on earth would I pretend to be your girlfriend?” The question was heavy with disbelief. It was hard to wrap your mind around the idea of being associated with someone so well-known and revered.

“Because,” he said, leaning in a bit closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as if sharing a secret, “I’ll pay you, and we both know you need the money.” His eyes searched yours, trying to gauge your reaction.

Your heart raced—not because of his looks, but because of the shock of his unexpected offer. You had heard whispers about his family’s immense wealth and the extravagant lifestyle he led. Living on a student budget had its challenges, and with your student loans piling up and a part-time job that barely scraped by to cover your rent, the allure of extra cash was undeniably tempting. The idea of being able to afford a few luxuries, or at least lessen your financial burden, was hard to resist.

“Why can’t you just ask someone else?” you challenged, trying to resist the pull of his proposition. “I’m not exactly the first person that comes to mind for something like this.” You crossed your arms defensively, hoping to mask the internal struggle of interest and reluctance battling within you.

He smirked, clearly entertained by your initial resistance. “Everyone else would want something more from me. I need someone who won’t get all starry-eyed and will just… play the part. Plus, we both know you’d be perfect at it.” His gaze locked onto yours, and you felt a mix of annoyance and intrigue bubbling inside you.

You paused, weighing your options carefully. The prospect of some extra money was certainly appealing, but getting involved in a charade with someone like Hyunjin—what could possibly go wrong? Or right? It was a gamble, and you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that there was more to his request than met the eye. Did you really want to dive into the complexities of a fake relationship with someone so out of your league?

“Okay, let’s say I’m interested,” you said, trying to maintain an air of composure. “What’s in it for me?”

“Besides the money?” he asked, a mischievous glint sparking in his eyes. “You’ll get a taste of my world—exclusive parties, a bit of respect, maybe a few free meals. Plus, I promise to make it entertaining.” His enthusiasm was infectious, but you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of caution.

“Entertaining how?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, genuinely curious. The thought of being swept into the glamorous world of college elites was both exhilarating and daunting.

“You’ll see.” He grinned, leaning back slightly, clearly pleased with himself. “So, what do you say? We can kick off this little arrangement next weekend?” His confidence was intoxicating, and the prospect of adventure was hard to ignore.

You took a deep breath, your gaze drifting momentarily to the stack of notes on your table, a reminder of the reality you were trying to escape. “Fine. But if I do this, you better keep your end of the deal. No funny business.” You felt a mix of excitement and apprehension wash over you, as if you were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to jump.

He extended his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, you took it, sealing the agreement with a firm grip. As you did, little did you know that there were requirements he hadn’t disclosed yet.

"Good.

Because my parents want to meet you."

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 | 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 | 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[yrluvjane]

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒃𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒈𝒐𝒍𝒅

[old money] James x fem!reader

《 Summary - After a coincidental encounter, James takes interest in one of his employees. 》

𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Who didn't know the Potters, especially when they owned everything. From banks, houses, and yachts to mansions, planes, and private islands. The family was known for its wealth and power. Almost ten generations have come since their fortune was assigned and now they’ve reached the point in being one of the richest and influential families in Europe. 

And it wasn’t every day James Potter, the only living heir, walked into a diner where he would only be served greasy fries and pizza. His perfectly tailored designer clothes made him stick out like a sore thumb no matter where he sat.

Sat on a table at the far end of the room, with a relaxing book in his hands and a steaming cup of black coffee on the table; James Potter’s eyes wandered from word to word and line to line, finding peace in between the letters. His eyes would raise temporarily every time the hanging door bells jingled to check if his company had arrived.

Despite the loud noise of chatter, the diner was mostly empty, only six tables were taken. The sudden and loud laughs of a group of women disrupted his reading, and James involuntarily swung his head towards them, confusion and curiosity swirling in his eyes. 

There, by the booths, sat a group of five girls all cheering loudly for their friend. James guessed that the woman they were cheering for was engaged, his eyes slightly squinted at the lady as she displayed her hand on the table for everyone to see.

It's not long before he realizes he’s not the only one looking at them; an elderly couple next to him, smiled fondly at the ladies and laughed together after a few short-whispered words. 

“Mr. Potter,” He blinked, refocusing his attention on the voice. He raised his head and found himself facing a young man in a wrinkled suit and skewed slim tie who was staring at him with a disturbingly wide smile. “An honor to have you here, truly.”

 “Thank you.” James responded blankly hoping to return to his book as quickly as possible without attracting unwanted attention from other diners, but it seemed as though the man did not comprehend James’ annoyance and instead decided to invite himself at James’ table. 

“My name is also James,”

The Potter one sent the man a tight-lipped smile. “I own this place, it’s actually my dad’s but I managed to sway him into giving it to me. So, yeah.” At that, the man had finally stopped talking and stared at James as though he was expecting the man to hand him an award and at James awkwardly silent response, the man threw his head back and laughed loudly. 

James narrowed his gaze at the man from behind his glasses and levelled him with a silent look of judgement. Though James did not speak any words his eyes expressed his feelings towards the man perfectly. And this time the man was able to clearly make out James' unpleasant impression of him.  "Not a man of many words, got it.”

“I’ll leave you to it then!” The other James said hesitantly, “If you need anything, and I mean anything I am right here!” The manager stood up and winked at him as he left.  

James sighed tiredly as the man’s voice faded and had finally vanished from his view. It was not that James was rude, it was the fact he did not appreciate people trying to sway him while he was having one of his very rare moments of peace.

His life has always been open to the public, from press conferences and social events to having people stalk him to his home. And though James would have seemed rude he didn’t think the twenty-something year old boy would have anything to say that was worth listening to.

James would rather have this limited time to hear his own thinking without having everyone train their eyes on him and bug him with their opinions of his every thought.

And not a few minutes later, the door swung open once more, ringing the bells and allowing a cold breeze to flow in. James’ eyes followed the jingles as he raised his cup of coffee to his lips and when his eyes trained on the silhouette he was met with a surprising feeling of familiarity. 

His hold on his book loosened, and he gently put the cup back on the saucer. He leaned back on his chair and narrowed his eyes at the woman, trying to make out where he could’ve seen her. By the style and quality of her clothes, he doubted they had worked together. And even if she wore something less normal, there weren’t many acquaintances he knew that would step into anything like this diner.

He let his eyes follow the lady’s figure all the way to the celebrating group of women, all of whom started beckoning her over once they saw her. The closer she was to them the clearer she became. Under the small restaurant’s soft yellow glow, he could finally notice her blue jumper and black trousers. She waved to her friends and walked to them, a black coat hanging from her arm.

Once she took a seat, she scanned the place; freezing once she laid eyes on him. Her eyes widened, blinking owlishly, staring at him with parted lips. She recognized him, yet he still couldn't make sense of who she was. A reporter? An ex? Maybe an assistant? An employee? His mind raced with possibilities and theories trying to guess or at least sense where he’d met her.

As time passes at the speed of a turtle, he can feel the young woman’s gaze at him from afar. Every few minutes or so she turns to him as though she’s expecting something to happen; he doesn’t dare look back but he does catch her eye once. He turns to his side, slightly annoyed and faces her, staring unashamedly. 

Her face of curiosity morphs into one of embarrassment, and James finds himself breaking their little contest when the door swings back open again and his friend walks in, waving at James from across the room. He shoots the girl one last look but this time, it’s her back that’s facing him.

A week later, James is sitting on a lounge chair by the pool, hoping to get some work done. The sun shone brightly above him, and despite there being cool winds breezing by, James’ clothes still stuck to his skin through a layer of sweat.

“Mr. Potter,” Anders, the Potter's head butler, calls. James faces him, scrunching his face against the sun's rays and smiles.

“Yes, Anders?��� 

“I have Miss Page on the phone.” He states with a sympathetic smile, handing him the black land phone. James sighed, getting up and taking the phone, he sighs one more time, this time at his assistant’s name on the small screen. “Margret?”

“James! I called six times!” She exclaims, and he can hear the distracting background noises of ringing phones, chattering and pointy heels undoubtedly belonging to the woman on the phone. ”My phone isn’t with me.” James says after shuffling some papers and looking for it. “Why? Why would you not have your phone around you at all times? I mean, what if an emergency happens? Do I have to wait for Anders to pick up the phone after four rings?” 

“Marge? I’m kind of busy here, too.” He says into the phone, stretching his legs by pacing around the large pool. The sun shines on the water so brightly that James has to have on his sunglasses just to not be blinded by the reflecting sparkles of light.

“Well you should thank me. I had the meeting on Tuesday postponed to Thursday, just like you asked. Then, I have Patrick bothering me about Jackson Mills. Things are heavy James, especially now with election season so close.”

“I’ll call Jackson today—”

“Great!” She cuts him off before he can even finish his sentence.

James chuckles softly as she moves on to the next thing on her list. Margret was a wonder truly, but don't be fooled she was direct and pointed as her heels.

“You have dinner at 6:30 on Wednesday with Delilah’s parents,” and for the next few moments the line is silent, “I can always tell them you got into a car crash, if you’d like?” She suggests, her voice much clearer now as the background noises fade out. “No, no, my parents have been pestering me about this for weeks, I might as well get it over with. Marge, the report for the new expansion project is on my desk, have Carter send them to me, please.”

There's a sound of shuffling papers before Margaret's voice appears once more, "It will be with you in 30 minutes."

As she continues, James looks down at his shoes in weariness, sighing, before raising his head up once more; movements by the bushes catch his eyes. He walks over to the end at the end of the pool, where he suspects the gardeners are working, his brows furrowing as he gets closer. 

And when he finally reaches the fence, his lips parted in amusement and chuckles at the scene in front of him. 

“James?”

“Sorry, Marge, you were saying,” James says, barely listening. His arms are leaned over the black fence that separates the pool from the gardens. There, on the ground, sat the woman from the restaurant. Her uniform was all muddy and stained with dirt and grass, her hair was pushed up in a messy up-do that was somehow being held up with a fork. 

James laughs.

“Marge, I’ll call you later.” He says, cutting her off as he ends the call and stares at the woman. At the sound of his amusement, the young lady faced him with a perplexed expression. “Mr. Potter,” She addresses, eyes wide and strands of hair falling over her face. She huffs and fails to push them back with her arm. ���I’m so sorry for bothering you.” She said, “I can leave if you’d like. I’m done anyway.”

“No, no, there’s no need to leave.” He states, his eyes focus on her uniform, a question forming in his head. “May just ask, why are you working in the gardens if you're supposed to be working in the kitchens?” He asked, and he watched her squint her eyes and shade her view with with her arm. 

“Tony, the usual gardener, his daughter, got in an accident. And since I’m done with my work, l told him I could take over while he went to see her in the hospital. I do hope you don’t mind.”

“No, no. But why not just call another one of the gardeners?”

“I…didn’t think of that.” She said, biting her lips and narrowing her eyes. “Mmmh,” James hummed, “So what is it you're doing exactly?”

“Oh I’m just potting these!” She said, pointing towards a bush of pinkish flowers. “Looks great.” He commented blankly.

“Think so? I’ve never done this before.” She pointed, getting on the ground once more.

“In the end of the day it’s them being judged, not your…limited knowledge in gardening.” He said and studied the woman as she laughed. “Oh you should see the Gardenia’s they've put by the gates! They’re gorgeous!”

“Do you like Gardenia’s?” He asks and takes off his shades as the clouds begin to cage the sun. He runs his fingers through his hair, pushing back loose curls. “They are very pretty.” She notes, and James foresees the incoming 'but'.

“– But not enough to be your favorite?” He finishes and she looks at him and shakes her head smiling. “I can’t pick at all. They’re all so beautiful.”

“You seem to know a lot about flowers but so little of gardening?”

“When I was younger, my neighbor gave me a flower book. It had the names of the flowers and when they bloomed, and where they bloomed. That's all it said. ” She shares, "I didn't really have much to do as a child, so I took on reading. I enjoyed it for a while."

James squinted his eyes at her. Curiosity blooming in his chest. Taking a step back from the fence, he pointed towards his pool with his thumb. "What would you put here?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She asked, confused.

"The pool seems kind of bland, doesn't it? It's all plain and boring. We can do better."

"Oh," she asks and stands back up to look onto his side of the fence. James took the opportunity to clearly look at the woman as she dusted her knees and skirt of grass. She was pretty, that was quite clear. But it didn’t make that much of a difference to James; after all he’s had his share of beautiful women every now and then. 

She walked forward and leaned on the fence, the smell of jasmine reaching his nose. It was a lot more welcoming and relaxing than the smell of chlorine the pool gave off.

His studied her face, her focused eyes, her bitten lips, and even the small hairs failing to be held up. "....You could go for the classics and pick some roses?"

He arched a brow at her, and she pursed her lips in response before facing the pool once more. "Angel's Trumpet?"

"Aren't they poisonous to the touch?" He asked, leaning back on the fence and giving her his most charming smile. "Right, I forgot about that." She mutters, biting the inside of her cheek, James smiles at her embarrassed expression.

She shifts from one foot to the other. James catches her fidgeting fingers and instantly feels bad for making her uncomfortable. He stands up straight as a frown takes on his face. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have put this on you. It's not your job,"

"Oh no, it's fine, really. I... Oh! What about Daylilies?" She asked. James looked at her in thought, "What flower would be on all your top favorites lists?" She tilted her head in thought, her arms falling to lean on the fence as she fixed her gaze on the pool. 

"Jasmine's." She stated as she looked at him. Suddenly aware of how their elbows are touching and how small the space between them is, James's smile turned to a light smirk.

It seemed that she noticed cause soon enough she coughed and took a step back, apologizing. "It's fine." James replied. His eyes wandered over her figure one last time before putting a hand out. "James."

She stared at his hand as though she believed it might bite her. She looked at him, then his hand, and took a step forward, pushing her hand out and introducing herself. “An honor.”

“The honor is all mine.” James says, holding her hand in care as he raised it to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. He watched her face break into a smile before she bit the inside of her cheek and faced James with a raised brow. James only smiled in return.

He wasn’t sure why but this woman had definitely caught his attention. “I should probably get going.” She said and leaned down to grab the leftover equipment and gave a hesitant wave.

“Good Bye” James said, waving back and watched as she disappeared behind the greenery of the gardens.

The next day you woke up with a striking headache and the usual urge to fall right back into bed. It took at least 10 minutes to finally convince the rest of your body that it would be for the best to get up.

And you eventually did, after having a nice warm shower to soothe your back and warm you against the coldness of your bathroom, you dressed in your everyday clothes and quickly made your way to the local farmer’s market, in hopes of getting there early.

The most distinctive smell was that of Olive oil, it filled the air and the closer you got the easier it was to make out the strong scent of spices. It was 9:15, the farmers were set up and there was a respectful amount of families and people buying fresh groceries. It didn’t take long for you to grab your things, as you’ve been coming here for years you were practically a usual so most of your orders were pre-ordered and all you had to do is pick them up.

By 10 you were outside the large black gates to the estate, a golf car awaited your arrival as to drive to the main doors, you never really understood why there was around a mile from the gates to the Manor. “Thanks, Robert!” You said, grabbing the bags and running up the steps to the front doors of the service enterance. Anders swung the door open just as you reached the last step.

“Morning, Anders.” You greeted me with a smile.

“Good Morning, Miss —” He was cut off with four men entering the large foyer. You trailed your eyes over their uniform, a dirt-stained grey jumpsuit with a green flower logo on their chest. ‘Gardens?’ You mouthed at the older man, he nodded back. “Yes, Mr. Fretman, if you will follow me, please.”

You snickered at Anders' tone of exasperation as he guided the men out. You managed to side-stepped all the priceless furniture that was in your way to the kitchens and it was no easy task. It was more like an obstacle course, especially with your sense of sight being blocked off by overly filled brown paper bags. 

Potter Estate was the definition of over the top. 

The Manor consisted of 16 guestrooms, 24 bathrooms, 2 kitchens, an indoor pool, an indoor sauna and jacuzzi, a music room, 2 library’s, the theatre room, a sewing room, 4 offices, a wine cellar and an attic, with lord knows what in it. 

The outside was even grander, there was the stables, the shooting range, the lake yards of grass and fancy gardens, the greenhouse (Which no one really sat in except Mrs. Potter whenever she visited), the outdoor pool, the garage and lastly the old stable house (Which, according to Anders, was turned into a "bat cave" by Mr. Potter Sr. for his son and his friends when they were younger.)

You made your way to the end of the west wing, pushing the large oak door open with your feet and sliding in. The evident silence came as a surprise, you would’ve expected to hear shouting, yelling, arguing, the sounds of slamming cupboards and chopping knives, something. But it was completely silent.

You placed the paper bags on the large kitchen island, which was three times the size of your bed and began sorting the fruits, vegetables and cheeses into the fridge and anything else in a cupboard. Once done, you threw the brown bags into a trash bin before washing your hands.

Your mind wandered away, wondering what might have happened to the rest of the crew. You huffed and wondered if you should look for them or not. Maybe they all got sick? But they were all fine yesterday. They were called somewhere else? Anders would have told you to join them. You took a look around and pushed your hair back with a headband and slipped on a hair net. You took one hesitant look around hoping someone would walk in but after a long and silent minute of you leaning on the marble table, gazing at the overly decorated door, you turned your gaze away from the entrance.

You shuffled from one cupboard, pulling all sorts of ingredients; flour, egg, sugar, vanilla , everything you needed to make a batch of cinnamon buns. And in a few moments you had already begun the first step, humming as you kneaded the dough, gently folding it between your hands and letting it rest for a while after you had declared it ready. You moved to preset the oven and a small red bulb lit up as you twisted the knob, signaling it was on.  

You yawned and your vision blurred as your eyes teared up from sleepiness, you really needed to get a better sleep schedule. Brushing the tears away with your arms, you pushed yourself up, putting aside your weariness and walked back to your cooking station.

It was almost half an hour later, when the doors to the kitchen swung open and you smiled up at Anders as he walked over to you. You were practically done, he had walked in on you smearing the icing on the buns. “They’re fresh out of the oven! Try one!” You offered, cutting him a piece and plating it. “Here, you can top it with whatever you like.” You pointed towards the spread of different sauces and toppings on the table.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/n. And I do appreciate this but sadly I did not come here by my own means.” He says with a soft smile and you unconsciously wipe your hand on a cloth before facing the man with confusion. “Has something happened? Is that why everyone is absent? Does it have something to do with Tony’s daughter? Is she—”

“No, no, no. Mr. Willfard’s daughter is being treated for a broken arm and bruised sides, it’s been confirmed that she will make a full recovery.” He says and you smile gratefully, the worry inside of you lessening, still there but much more eased.

“And about the others, they were given a day off by Mr Potter.” He says and you freeze on the spot. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’  and since we are on the topic. Mr. Potter has sent me to inform you that he is expecting you by the pool.” 

Your eyes widened and so did your mouth, silent movements of your lips were targeted at Anders out of shock. “Mr. Potter, Mr. Potter? As in James Potter?”

“Are you acquainted with any other ‘James Potter’s?”

“No.” You answered hastily as you your mind racked to why he would want to speak with you and at the top of your head, and like a blaring siren, yesterday’s events shone. “Was he happy when he asked you to call me? Did he ask it in a ‘I just want to talk’ way  or more of a ‘I’m going to fire you’ tone.” You asked and you instantly felt smaller under the blank and unimpressed expression Anders gave you.

“If you will follow me – What are you doing?” Anders asks, his brows furrowing and lips frowning. “Plating these! They must be served warm or else they’re not as delicious.” You whisper, rushing around just as quick the thoughts in your head.

He sighs and leans his hands on the table, watching as you took your time to gently pick each roll and delicately place them on a large plate.

Once you're done you move the dirty trays to the sink and wonder if you could buy yourself some time as you scrubbed the pans and dishes.

“Leave those and follow me. I’ll assign someone to do them later.” Anders says and you can’t help but butt in, “But everyone took the day off! Except me.” You mutter the last part in a harsh whisper and sigh, accepting defeat. You grabbed one of the pastry-filled tray and angrily hand it to the butler before grabbing the others. 

It almost feels like forever as you followed Anders, your fingers were nervously tapping the silver platter. You took deep breaths and purposely slowed your pace. Anders didn’t even bother to look at you as he led you. You looked around you trying to make out where he’s taking you too. It came as a surprise when you had passed James' office but now you were completely out of the Manor.

“Anders, where are we going?” You asked, Anders didn’t turn to you but did slow down. “To the pool grounds.”

He was going to fire you. You admitted mentally. Should've kept your mouth shut! It is a known, unspoken rule that you should never share your opinions with rich people.

You should treat them like kids, don’t talk to them, don’t get in their squabbles and don’t tell them the truth cause it will make them pissed and emotional and then you will be forced to deal with their tantrums.

However you completely ignored that rule yesterday, when you shared your opinions with Potter of all people. Before you even reach the pool, you hear loud noises and shouts coming from its direction. One very distinctive voice was that of James Potter.

“Miss L/n.” Anders addressed and motioned for you to step ahead of him. You sighed and masked your face before climbing the short stair in quick steps.

The first person you were met with was James. He stood towering over a large group of men that were scattered across the pool yard. James’ is dressed in similar attire to yesterday’s clothing and you almost smile back when he turns to you with a grin. “Mr. Potter.” You greet with a strained tone, placing the tray of buns on a nearby table with harsh clack. 

“Oh, how lovely. Anders, please pass them to the workers, will you? And please call me James. How’ve you been?” He asks, still smiling and you're not so sure of what to make of the man. 

Anders agrees in his usual formal tone and you watch him with the corner of your eye as he picks up your tray and walks down over to the working men.

“I’m fine?” You reply hesitantly and thankfully he doesn’t notice your questioning tone.

“Well I’m glad. I’m sorry to strip you of your day off, I assure you, you can have tomorrow for yourself.”

Your brows furrowed as you stared at the man, you're quite confused and to add to it you almost feel ridiculous while speaking to him with his sunglasses on. “Take off the shades.” You order in a blank tone and you see James’ posture change as he takes a step back and pulls the accessory off. Before he can get the chance to speak, you cut in, “Are you going to fire me?” You ask, the smile completely wiped off your face. You narrow your eyes at the man and watch as he speaks to you in genuine surprise. “Why would I fire you?”

“Then why am I here?” You asked, your confidence slipping. “I’m not here to fire you,” he laughs, “I just wanted to show you this,” He explains motioning towards the pool. “...I’ve seen the pool before.” You say, this time your confusion is clearly plastered on your face. “I mean this.” He says and he guides to the side of the pool, where three men are potting some Jasmine’s. “You picked Jasmine’s?”

“You said it was one of your favorites, right?” He asked, and you faced him with a look of surprise. “You picked Jasmine’s cause they were one of my favorites?” The older man blushed and he faced you with wide eyes, “No! Yes, but not directly, I just picked them because I guessed they’d have to have been really nice flowers if they were on your favorites list.”

“Okay.” You said, still confused but you sighed and brushed it all away. James watched your face soften as you took a step closer to them. “They are beautiful, aren’t they?” You ask, your eyes trained on the small, delicate, white petals of the flower. “Yeah…and they smell nice too.” You laugh, turning to face him as you lightly throw your head back. “Yeah, that too.” You agree watching a soft smile adorn his face.

“Here,” James says as he walks over behind a table, you watch lean down to grab something and your lips part in awe as he walks over to you with a pot of Jasmine’s. “Mr. Potter, I–” You’re in shock and happiness. They’re is a small sickening feeling in your stomach and you do your best to try and avoid it.

“A thank you,” He says. “And as I said earlier, it’s just James.”

《 NEXT PART 》

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog @ietss

[lovelykhaleesiii]

Bound To You.

PAIRING: Modern!Dad!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader

WORDS: 2,605.

SUMMARY: Domestic life with Aegon has been bliss thus far, yet there’s still one, pestering thing troubling his mind, and he won’t rest until he hears the word “yes”...

WARNINGS: nil.

A/N - I give you (chubby) Dad!Aegon!!! cause what’s more fluffier than DILF AEG?! I hope you all enjoy it! it’s not my finest work but the concept warms my heart, I hope it does yours xoxo

The long anticipated birthday was looming near, your birthday specifically, and Aegon was dead set on spoiling you, like never before, on your special day.

Since you’d both crossed paths in life, since your time in college, ultimately becoming romantically involved, he was eager to spoil you with a lavish, comfortable lifestyle, and costly gifts whatever the occasion may be. Growing up from wealth had its advantages, for instance price tags were never an issue…

Although, now 4 years down the line, you now had a third party entwined in your relationship: a beautiful, baby girl. She was only just at the cusp of entering her “terrible twos” and thus far, she was a god-sent angel. She had her father’s unique, ancestral Targaryen features: the violet eyes, platinum silver hair, and yet, her delicate details, the shape of her eyes and nose, made her a carbon copy of you.

Aegon was utterly smitten with her the moment you’d given birth: a grueling one yet worth every agonizing second. He was infatuated by her: her tiny frame engulfed by his massive size, the way her little fingers just managed to grip his pudgy pinky, and yet, he was ever so tender and cautious with her. He refused to let anyone near her proximity as she slept peacefully in the bassinet, let alone hold her, unless it was himself, you or his dearest mother to whom he trusted. Determined not to take any risks with his little princess, he was annoyingly protective over her. Even more so, he had more ammunition to spend his money carelessly. Whenever you guys were out and about, his wandering eyes would spot something precious that he felt his daughter just had to have.

“Oh Y/N, she would look the sweetest in this! Please! You can’t deny, she’d look so adorable!”

“C’mon hun, look at how she loves to play with it already! If I take it away, she’ll hate me!”

“Aeg she’s only 1, she has no use for so many clothes and toys that she’ll definitely outgrow and most likely out-love-”

Yet, there was no point in arguing, it was like talking to a brick wall. Aegon was stubborn with his ways, especially when it came to his little girl. It only heightened after eventually discovering that her first word was inevitably “Dada”, it drove Aegon ballistic, like he’d won the lottery, and the endless bragging that followed.

“Y/N did you hear that?! You heard it right? Grab me my phone- Say it again, princess!”

She was Daddy’s little, precious girl, that you could say with the greatest certainty.

****

“Bubba, now what are we going to get for Mumma?” Aegon softly coos, just above a whisper so only his little girl can hear, as he playfully bops her in his thick arms.

Too distracted with her new tiny doll, that Aegon sporadically caved in and bought just moments ago, he nervously glances over the stainless glass desk, an array of glistening jewels of all gems, carats and cuts, laid methodically out before him. If he could [more so if you would have allowed for it], he would buy the whole store out for you, although your prior prep talk a month ago, you made Aegon promise not to go above and beyond for such occasions.

“Is there anything I can help you with Sir?” The sudden, polite voice startled Aegon awake from the distraction of his own, deep thoughts, caught in a dilemma of what to choose. Met with the friendly smile of a middle-aged clerk woman, he returned the favor, even prompting his little girl to say “hi”, before she shyly buried her face against his chest, as he resumed explaining the situation at hand. After thoroughly inquiring, presenting Aegon with countless of stunning necklaces and bracelets, Aegon remained unconvinced.

“So sorry, how long did you say you’ve been with your wife for?” The saleswoman intrigued as she set aside the row of jewels Aegon had politely declined.

“Oh-Oh we’re not married. J-Just have a baby together… I mean not that I-I don’t or wouldn’t plan to, I just haven’t exactly decided when or how I’d ask.”

“Interesting- I mean I don’t mean to pry, I just assumed 4 years down the line, with a little one, perhaps she is expecting something soon… It seems you guys are pretty adaptable, go with the flow type of people. If you ask me, I think a potential engagement ring or even a promise ring, if you wish to buy some more time for a plan, would really surprise her in all the right ways.”

Spiraling in his own thoughts and memories, Aegon reminisced his relationship with you from the beginning. There was brutal truth to the stranger’s words, your relationship was neither premeditated nor were you each other’s type. In theory, on paper, Aegon and yourself would not work well, and yet against all odds you’d proven otherwise. Change and compromise, as you had always reasoned. As much as he hated to admit, neither was his little princess a planned circumstance… You’d fallen pregnant without thought, sometime after graduation and despite the fears and worries that parenthood foreshadowed, knowing you had each other to support and rely on, without the fear of abandonment, Aegon was comforted by the prospect of fatherhood.

“Sorry, Sir-I didn’t mean to meddle in your affairs. I was just suggesting perhaps-”

“No-No, it’s fine. If anything, you’ve just given me a reality check. I-uh-If it’s alright, I would very much like to see the rings, please? Hate to take up so much of your time.”

“Not a problem at all, Sir. Of course, I have just the perfect set in mind-” As the woman warmly agrees, she skims away momentarily, unlocking and bustling through the shelves of a drawer. In the meantime, Aegon’s little girl grows more and more restless in his arms, her little legs kicking and sprawling against Aegon’s plush tummy [he had grown quite a Dad bod, since fathering his first child, suffering from more cravings during your pregnancy than you]. Bored from the entertainment her doll had occupied her with, she now craved for her Daddy’s attention, eager to see what had kept him busy.

“I know, I know, baby. Home soon-” He softly whispers into her tiny ear, gently brushing her thick, platinum waves out of her eyes, as she nestles her tiny head onto his collar. Planting a small, faint kiss atop her head, her presence helped to reaffirm his decision.

“Finish getting Mumma a present, and then it’s nap time for you, hmm?”

****

“Surprise baby! Happy Birthday!” Aegon excitedly shouted, standing by the dining table with his baby securely wrapped in his arm: his other free hand warmly embracing your body.

The sight before you was, indeed, a welcoming one, quite rewarding after a tiresome, stressful day at work. Aegon had organized and prepared a feast for just the three of you all, desperate for something small, and intimate, any other festivities could wait for the weekend. He’d ordered your favorite takeout, and even set up the birthday cake with the candles burning bright, you knew by the intricate detailing of the chocolate cake, it was one that you’d most enjoyed and grown to love during your pregnancy.

“Aeg, this is all too much. You took the day off just for this, you didn’t have to!” You softly interject, as you plant a loving kiss on his plump cheek, before planting a tender forehead kiss on your little girl. A bright smile beaming across both their faces, you were content enough with their affections and presence.

“Don’t be serious, Y/N, this is the least I can do… If I had it my way, we’d be half-way across the world on some honeymoon type of vacation,” Aegon teased, although he was intent on being meticulous with his words, wanting to gain any, even the slightest bit of a reaction from you, to his instigation of proposing.

Ever since the saleswoman planted the idea of marriage, the thought had begun to sprout in his mind like a flower in the spring. Vivid, realistic visions began to swarm his mind, of the ring on your finger, you in a beautiful, custom wedding gown that you’d look so divine in, made perfectly to cater for your body, tight in all the right angles, walking down a lavishly designed alter towards him and your little girl waiting atop. Set in stone, that you’d be bound for each other in life and death. Also contemplating visions of your family expanding in numbers, his heart grew double in size by the thought. He desired for such visions to be a definite possibility, eager to prove to you that his devotion would remain timeless and undying, against all adversities.

“Honeymoon? That seems a little out of reach for us… Maybe one day,” You slyly comment back, exchanging a taunting wink to Aegon before, setting out the plates he’d piled on the table. In response, he could only meekly laugh. Your response was not as direct as he had hoped for, although he was willing to take the risk. For god’s sake, you had shared a child together… The word “no” would kill him, however, it would take death itself to greet the man before he was ever forced to leave you, it would take a beast like a dragon, to tear him from you…

****

“She’s fast asleep, poor thing, you must’ve exhausted her today! What’d you have her doing?” You quietly pestered Aegon, not wanting to awake the girl, as you exited her bedroom, returning to the kitchen as Aegon was finishing up tidying the dishes. Sated with the delicious food and cake, your daughter enjoyed herself lively with the little energy she had remaining. By the end of the celebrations, the poor girl was helplessly yawning soft “aww’s”, sighing, as she rubbed her heavy lids, falling fast asleep, melting away into her father’s lap, before you’d carried her off swiftly to bed.

“Our little princess helped me make a very important decision today… She helped me pick out the most perfect gift for you, or so I hope it will be.”

“Is that so?” You taunt, as your arms wrap around Aegon’s broad shoulders, enveloping around his dense neck, as your fingers run through his short, platinum strands. You feel his muscly arms snake around your waist, his rough hands sneakily squeezing at your clothed cheeks, encouragingly pushing your body forward as it presses against his sturdy physique. Despite the confidence in his gestures, Aegon could feel the anxiousness beginning to stir in the pit of his stomach: it was a possibility that you would say no, but if that was the case, why stay with him for so long? Why bear his child? Why not leave the moment you felt the relationship was no longer viable? He refused to believe you could be that cruel. Although you'd only briefly discussed the sacred notion of marriage, he knew you were not completely against it either. “If it happens, it happens” were your precise words, if he could correctly recall.

“You okay, Aeg? You seem distracted, my love?”

“Follow me-” His half-hearted smile eased your concerns, as he firmly held your hand, guiding you down the hallway in a beeline towards your shared bedroom. Before he’d opened the door to turn on the light, Aegon instructed that you wait outdoors, until he told you otherwise. As he disappeared before you, politely shutting the door in your quizzical face, it was only in those sparse, lonesome moments, did the realization sink in that you hadn’t stepped foot at all in the bedroom since arriving from work. Aegon was swift in taking your belongings into your room, as he urged you to remain by, distracted and tending to your little girl, before the festivities would commence. And now you understood for good reason…

“Come in, babe.”

Slowly opening the door, a hint of fear quivering inside of you, unexpectant of what was to be met, you noticed the room remained dimly lit, with lit candles strategically placed across the room, red rose petals streaked all across the carpeted floor, before realizing they led a path to the neatly made bed. Spelled legibly with more rose petals across the clean, ivory white linen were the thick lettering of the words written “WILL YOU MARRY ME?”

And kneeled before you on the floor, Aegon, precisely down on one knee, a longing look strewed across his face, with the most opulent, grand diamond ring you’d ever laid your eyes upon, held upright in the palms of his hands. It’s intricate details flashing in the dimness, the silver, stainless steel band coated in smaller, lustrous diamonds, as the main centerpiece was a pear cut, glistening with such intense clarity. Naturally, you felt the hot tears swelling in your eyes, a hand instinctively going over your neckline, as the other fell onto your stomach, where once a babe had grown cosily.

“Aeg-”

“F-Forgive me, my beloved. I know that this has been long overdue, but my feelings remain indifferent. O-Over the last few years, this thought has echoed in my mind, and since you’d blessed me with the greatest gift of all, nothing I say or do could amount to how I truly- how much I sincerely feel about you, Y/N. You, you and our little bundle of joy, you both mean the absolute world to me. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you both. You have stuck by me since the beginning, not knowing what you’d be walking into, with a man like me, and yet you persevered. You not once considered walking out on me nor did you ever show your discontent with me. Forever I am grateful, I-I am undeserving of you… So please, the selfish man that I am, I ask more of you. I ask that you do me the honor of becoming my beloved wife, so that I wish to remain bound to you in this life and the next, against all odds, just like we’ve been doing since day one, baby.”

Not even a second passed by before your decision had been definitively made.

“Yes.”

Much to your amusement, as a gleeful smile tore across your face with joyous tears streaming down your scarlet cheeks, Aegon looked surprised by your acceptance. Caught in a daze, that you would decline, the answer “no” ingrained into his mind since the drive home, it took him a minute before his senses had settled in. Hastily kicking himself off the ground, he moved towards you instantly, now a similar, bright smile etched across his face, as his lilac eyes glistened with tears of relief.

“You-You said yes?!”

“Of course, Aeg! Baby, I’m so in love with you, have I been that blissfully ignorant in wanting to spend the rest of my life with you? My dear, dear husband.”

The word just oozing so effortlessly from your lips, made Aegon’s cock twitch with enthusiasm. Naturally, he swiftly placed the hypnotic ring on your delicate finger, the both of you mesmerized by its rich appearance for a few fleeting moments, before embracing one another, sharing a long, passionate kiss, as Aegon led you towards the plush bed.

“Should we not call your family, tell them the news?” You interjected, as Aegon plopped you down, remaining stood, as he undid the buttons of his fitted shirt.

“They can wait… Perhaps they shall be expecting not only a wedding, but another grandchild, niece or nephew, soon, after I’m done with you tonight.”

GENERAL TAGLIST - @evenstaris​ @chompchompluke​ @fan-goddess​ @malfoytargaryen​ @ilikeitbetterangsty​ @bibli0thecary​

AEGON TAGLIST - @who-told-you-this-was-butter​

[604to647]

Mi Galleta (Part 4 - Oatmeal Raisin)

6.4K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Pero tries to get back in your good graces.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), angst, reader is hard on herself, pining, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), standard warning for Biker!Pero even though this isn't a biker AU, reader can wear Pero's shirt, eventual smut, unprotected PiV, oral (f receiving), they are IN LOVE OKAY 🥹

A/N: It's a HEA, don't worry! Thank you so much to everyone who has followed along with this mini-series! I can't believe I completed something 🥹

Series Masterlist

Pero is desperate to see you and to serve his penance for whatever you may have heard, but you won’t return any of his messages and all his calls go straight to voicemail; he’s pretty sure he’s been blocked.  Of course, he knows where you work and where you live, but he doesn’t want to scare you or make any of your spaces feel unsafe by showing up unwanted and unannounced, so he doesn’t go to you.  But it’s killing him.

You don’t come to the restaurant and neither do your friends.  In fact, the closest Pero comes to you for a month is when he spots Dorothy leaving one of Lin’s sister restaurants.  He had stopped by to grab some paper work when he sees her getting her coat from the coat check; after he calls her name, he watches her internally debate whether or not to ignore him, eventually separating from her party to stalk over to where he's awkwardly waiting.

“How is she?” he begs, unable to muster even a greeting or something remotely more eloquent.

Dorothy extends her hand and points her index finger directly into his chest, the force with which she pokes him shoving him back, “Leave her alone or I’ll make your life a living hell.”

She stomps off without another word, and he’s left feeling even worse than before; he can only imagine that Dorothy’s ire is reflective of yours.

He has to talk to you, has to know what you heard those assholes say so he can explain and soothe away the hurt caused.  But he doesn’t know how.

---

It’s worse than Pero thinks.  He’s broken you.  You remember sharing with him your insecurities surrounding letting your family’s wealth, or money in general, define you; Pero had nodded sympathetically as you explained how important it is for you to carve something into this world beyond the privilege that’s so plainly etched into your very presence.  It would be one thing if he thought you silly.  But this… to know that money is all he saw when he looked at you?  To hear Pero, William and those men reduce you to nothing more than a rich bitch, and write you off as unworthy of respect, undeserving of true affection?  It made you feel dirty.  Your money made you dirty.

You’re humiliated.  And your heart is broken.

You’re hard on yourself.  How could you have been so stupid?  Did you really think a few cookies and a kind smile would truly win over a man who abhorred snobbery?  He must have pegged you for an empty, vapid trophy fuck the first time he met you when you were just some entitled brat who wanted to eat at a fancy restaurant.  Why would he ever think differently of you?  How stupid of you to think he might.

Once in a while, you will recall Pero’s whispered sweet nothings and his soft touches, and your eyes will well up immediately.  He had fooled you so good.  You wonder if it disgusted him to pretend to care for you when he actually found you pathetic.  Or did it amuse him how easily you had fallen for his charms? Did he laugh at your dumb naïve heart?  You hate yourself a little for being so stupid. 

And you hate yourself a lot for still missing him.

“Guess what?” asks your boss, excited.

“What?” you can’t help but grin.  Greg is a good boss.  He’s mentored and trained you, and for the past few years, he’s treated you like his co-lead on the team, giving you the opportunities and responsibilities to help you rise in your career; broadcasting your value to the firm by seeking and relying on your opinions and decisions.  He’s a good egg.  You’re really lucky.

“Joanna is coming to town!”

Ahhh… Joanna is Greg’s boss.  She’s a good boss too, just a bit more restrained in her positive feedback than Greg would probably like; more than once you’ve surmised that Greg cultivated with you the type of mentor-mentee relationship that he had hoped for with Joanna.  Still, she’s an important figure at the firm and Greg loves impressing her. 

“That’s great!  Where are we going for lunch?” your eyes twinkle; if there was one thing Joanna likes, it was going out to eat on the company’s dime.

“Well… I need to ask a favour.”

“Ask away,” you smile, if you can help Greg get on Joanna’s good side, you’re happy to do it.

“I know you’ve been to that restaurant Lin?  The one on Cardero and has the rave reviews for its fusion food?  Joanna read about it and wants to go.”

Your heart drops the moment he says the name of the restaurant, but you successfully keep a placid expression in place and nod.

“I heard it’s hard to get into.  Impossible.  No, actually, I can’t even find out how to do it?  Do you have any idea?  Or… do you think you could get us in?” Greg puts his hands up in prayer and makes a puppy dog face at you, complete with comical pout.

It’s been almost two months since the day you had run away from Lin; no, since the day when those disgusting words and the sound of Pero’s cruel laugh had chased you out.  You and your friends haven’t been back, and to be honest, you haven’t done much going out since.  Eloise and Dorothy were perfectly happy to stay in with you, watch old movies, drink wine and wallow, but you hadn’t wanted them to miss out on the city scene; besides, as you reminded them, it was their job to go out.  So, at your insistence, they had gone back to the social scene, leaving you at home with your still very broken heart.  The idea of seeing Pero, of asking him for a favour, gives you a stomach ache just thinking about it.  Would he laugh in your face?  Pretend he didn’t know you?  Some other equally awful possibility your imagination isn’t masochistic enough to come up with?  Probably.  But, Dorothy did say she had a run in with Pero at another restaurant a couple of weeks ago; perhaps he no longer worked at Lin.  You wrestle internally with whether or not you want that to be true, but agree with Greg that it’s worth you giving it a try.

Pero barely registers when a group of patrons file into the lobby, most of them stepping aside into the waiting area, probably waiting for all of their party to show up.  He gives them a cursory glance while maintaining his glowering expression; he counts seven (so far) office workers.  After less than a minute, a man and a tall woman who’s impeccably dressed, walk in.  The man is chatting excitably to her, and she is giving him polite responses while taking in the surroundings of the lobby with an air of condescension.  Unexpectedly, they also move aside to join the group that’s waiting.  Pero would have thought these two were heading up the party, but he doesn’t have any time to register his surprise because the figure that was hidden by theirs, revealed when they moved to the side, is yours.

Although you’re not making eye contact with him, you do continue walking towards him and Pero’s heart leaps into his throat; he holds his breath until you reach his desk.

“Hi,” you finally raise your eyes to look at him. 

“Hi,” he exhales.  His heart hurts.  Your eyes seem dimmed, and you look like you’re trying to make yourself small, like you would rather be anywhere but here.

“I’m sorry to have to ask.  My boss’ boss is in town,” you give a small smile when you look over and nod in their direction before turning back to Pero, “She really wanted to eat here, and my boss really wants to impress her.  Do you think it would be possible?  I’m sorry to ask this of you.”

Pero can’t stop looking at you.  You’re more beautiful than he remembered.  And still so sweet and kind.  Even now, it’s clear you don’t want to be here, but you’re extending yourself to help someone else.  He wishes you knew you didn’t have to apologize.  He would never deny you anything, happily give you anything you desired, “It’s not a problem, you don’t need to apologize.  How many are you?  I’ll call up to Leah to expect you.”

“Leah?!” your face lights up knowing that one of people you were closest to at the restaurant is working today, “Oh!  I’m so glad! We’re ten, thank you.”

So thrilled and relieved to see your smile, Pero can’t help but break out into a grin himself, breaking the illusion of the fearsome bouncer he’s supposed to be, “She’ll be glad to see you as well.  Come on, call your party over.”

After everyone has filed into the elevator, you step in last and watch as Pero reaches in to press the button; for the first time today, you really look at him and mouth, “Thank you.”

Upstairs, you find Leah waiting for you with a big smile and an even bigger hug; after an enthusiastic greeting to you and your party, she leads you to one of the best tables in the restaurant.  You see Greg giving you a discreet thumbs up as Joanna looks around the large dining room, marveling at the elegant décor. 

“We would like to offer you our Chef’s tasting menu today.  It’s 12-courses, chef’s choice of his favourite dishes.”

“Oh!“ you look at Greg unsure, and he in turn also looks very unsure, especially when he sees Joanna smiling broadly; it sounds very expensive, maybe too expensive for a corporate lunch.  You’re just contemplating how you can manage to discreetly cover some of the cost when Leah shocks you, “Everything today is complimentary, please don’t be shy.  It’s everyone at Lin’s pleasure to have you as our guests.”

“Leah,” you start to protest, but she shushes you with a knowing look in her eye and a conspiratorial smile.

“That sounds wonderful!” exclaims Joanna, and when you see how she beams, impressed, at Greg, you nod in assent at Leah, who grins back at you.  After she leaves to put in everyone’s drink order, you excuse yourself and follow her.

“LEAH!!” you hiss, when you catch-up to her next to the kitchen.

“Yes?” she looks up at you with an innocent expression.

“That’s too much! Let me pay for some of this!”

“No can do, hun.  I’m under strict orders to spare no expense for your table today.  Give your boss’ boss the VIP experience.”

“Oh Leah,” you soften.

“He misses you.”

You don’t have a response to that.

“And he’s been a miserable grump to everyone at the restaurant.”

This you can easily believe, “I’m sorry, Leah.  He… broke my heart.”

She looks at you like maybe she knows something you don’t, but also with something like sympathy; after another hug she makes a silly shooing motion with her hands, “Go on back to the table.  Drinks and the first course will be out shortly.”

Lunch is superb.  Each course more tantalizing than the last.  One might have thought 12 courses was too many, but each dish is perfectly portioned and sequenced so that the flavours of each course build upon the one previous, culminating in one very satisfying meal.  Elevating the food to another level is the impeccable service and attention that you and your table receives.  It seems like your party is attended to by more than twice the usual staff; each person’s needs anticipated before they can even voice them, leaving them wanting for nothing.  At one point, you choke down a chuckle because it reminds of you those regency dinner scenes where each diner has a footman standing right behind them; it’s almost too much, but Joanna is eating it up.  Greg is elated, and you couldn’t be more pleased at seeing him triumph. 

When the after-meal coffee and tea is served, a giant cookie is wedged between your cup and its saucer; ginger molasses, your favourite.  You take a nibble and it’s heavenly.

“Hey!  How come the rest of us don’t get cookies?” jokes one of your teammates.  You look around and realize it’s true, you’re the only one that got a cookie.

Leah is quick to answer, “It’s an apology cookie.  For our lackluster performance the last time she was here.”

You know the true meaning behind the gesture and these words, but you can’t help but shake your head, “Don’t be ridiculous, no apology is necessary.  And even if one was warranted, which it is NOT, today’s exemplary service and food would have been more than enough.  We couldn’t be more impressed.  Thank you so, so much.”

Your table mates echo your sentiments and thanks.

Before you leave you leave the restaurant with your team, you force Leah to process a generous tip for all the staff on your card; she tries to protest but stops when you give her a scowl that you think would rival Pero’s.  Giving her a hug goodbye, coupled with a promise that you’ll try to come back soon, you ride the elevator back downstairs a jumble of emotions.

There’s no doubt in your mind that the special treatment your table received today was at Pero’s behest, but why would he bother?  It was enough that he had granted your party access, nothing else had been expected or needed; but the staff had gone out of their way to make sure your experience had been special, that Joanna was impressed and wowed.  You sneak a look at Greg’s expression next to you; he’s positively glowing.  You decide that you could drive yourself crazy trying to understand Pero’s motivations, but the important thing was that he had gone to great lengths for you when he didn’t need to and you’re extremely grateful.

You find that you don’t dread seeing him now the same way you did when you came in earlier, actually looking forward to thanking him for the kindness he has just shown you and your co-workers.

You’re the last to leave elevator and by the time Pero’s desk comes into view, you see that half of your teammates have already exited the building.  Ahead of you, Greg is earnestly shaking Pero’s hand, thanking him for his hospitality and singing the praises of the restaurant.  When you see Pero’s kind expression and the sincerity with which he clasps Greg’s hand in thanks, your already softening heart melts a little more.

Finally, it’s your turn. Pero’s been waiting for you.  Waiting since the elevator doors closed earlier.  Waiting since the day he knew you were last in this very lobby.  Your eyes don’t leave his as you approach; he thinks the expression in your eyes is a little softer than earlier, a little bit of the light that he’s missed is back.  For a what feels like an eternity, neither of you say anything, then simultaneously,

“Cookie…”

“Thank you.”  Pero gestures for you to go first.

“Pero, thank you.  The lunch was such a success and an incredible dining experience in and of itself.  I know it was all because of you.  Thank you.”

“Cookie.  Not me.  It was because of you.  Everything was for you,” Pero’s tone soft and pleading.  He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he can barely contain his emotions.  To have you here before him, your sweet face looking at him like you with something that isn’t the imagined hate that’s been haunting him – it's all he’s been hoping for for the past two months.

You don’t know what to say.  Why would he do this for me?

About to thank him again, you’re stopped when Pero holds something out to you.  It’s an empty container.  The one previously filled with the snickerdoodles you had forgotten on his desk the last time you were in this lobby.  Everything comes rushing back now.  Your chest tightens at the memory of the crass and demeaning words you overheard and the harshness of Pero’s cruel laughter that still rings in your ears.  And just like that, your good mood is shattered, much like your heart. 

You take the container back, hands shaking, and mumble another thanks; leaving quickly before you start to cry.

Pero stares at your retreating form, knowing that you’re hurting and feeling helpless that he can’t do anything but be the cause.

---

You’re unable to concentrate on anything once you get back to work, still reeling from the whiplash of emotions you’ve experience since seeing Pero again.  Luckily, despite your boss’ boss’ presence, the entire department seems to have collectively decided to forgo doing any work for the rest of the day, instead chatting happily about the experience at Lin and upcoming weekend plans.  Glad for everyone’s distracted state, you attempt to process your feelings.  Toying mindlessly with the cleaned container that was returned to you today, you open it when you feel the slight weight of something move inside.  Reaching in, you find a piece of paper, folded several times; when unfurled, you realize it’s a letter.

Cookie,

I’m so sorry.  I don’t know what you overheard the day you left me the cookies that came in this container, but I have to apologize for your ears ever being exposed to anything so offensive and vile; I won’t give it any credence by repeating any of it.  

The people responsible no longer work here and have not since the moment William and I were able to express our disgust for their comments.  If for even a second you felt that there was any truth to what was said about you, I am truly sorry – I cannot bear it actually, because, princesa, you mean more to me than you can fathom.

I would do anything for you.  Serve you willingly.  Do anything to see you smile or bring you a moment’s joy.  Cookie, I love you. I didn’t want the first time I said it to be in a letter, but it’s possible this may be my only chance, so here it is. I love you.

I think I’ve loved you since the moment I met you; the day you came in looking for Lin felt like first day of the rest of my life.  What did I ever do to deserve you even looking my way?  I’m just a grumpy asshole.  But you’ve lit up my life every day since you entered it.  

I didn’t know life could be so sweet until I met you, my Cookie.  

Te amo, princesa,

Pero

You read it three times.  So he did think what was said about you was horrible.  But then… why did he laugh with them?  At you?  You suppose that if he truly thought you as worthless as those men, he wouldn’t feel one way or another that you overheard.  Oh.  His feelings.  You look over those words in the letter again.  I love you.

I love you.

The words swim in your head and make you dizzy.  If he loved you, why did he never come to see you?  Beg for you to hear his side of the story?  Why did he let you think he was perfectly content for you to walk out of his life?  He loves you?

But you had loved him too, didn’t you?  Before that day, and if you’re honest with yourself, maybe even since.  You had loved how soft he would turn just for you.  Loved his passion, how dedicated he was at a job he clearly loved.  How he took every opportunity to make you feel special.  How he made you laugh.  How he showed you the core of who he was: generous, loyal, kind.  How he praised those exact traits in you. 

The rest of the afternoon is a blur, your mind full of Pero and your chest bubbling over with conflicting and confusing emotions.  At the first opportunity that presents itself, you clock out early, bid farewell to your co-workers, and walk as fast as you can to Pero’s building.  Opening the door with more force than necessary, you march straight up to Pero’s desk; he sits up straighter, surprised at your appearance.  You slap his letter down on his desk in front of him and practically yell, “You love me??!?” and promptly burst into tears, the whirlwind of feelings you’ve been holding in all day finally overwhelming you.

Pero is up on his feet in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and crushing you to his chest, hands stroking your hair and back in what he hopes is a soothing manner.  Slowly, never letting you go, he walks the two of you towards the front doors; once there, he locks each lock, including the ground pins, never letting his touch stray from your body, his gaze from your sad face.  Then tucking you under his shoulder and once again wrapping his arms around you as you continue to cry soft tears, he takes you upstairs.  As the elevator door opens, you hear Leah’s greeting cut short when she sees who it is.  She barely gets two words in, “Pero, what ha-,” before he very definitively orders, “Leah, send everyone home, please.  We’re not opening tonight.  Tell everyone they will be paid and to consider it a night off.”  His tone leaves no room for argument, and Leah leaves swiftly to carry out his orders.

All the wait staff who had been setting up the dining room for dinner service scatter upon you and Pero entering; he guides you to the back of the room and sits on a cushioned bench, gently pulling you down onto his lap.  You remained buried into his neck, letting him calmingly rub your neck, back and legs until your sobs subside.

When you finally lift your head and look at him, eyes still glassy with tears, Pero gently dries your wet cheeks with his thumbs before answering your question, “Yes, Cookie, I love you.”

“But why,” you feel another sob welling up from your chest, “… why did you never try to come see me?  Talk to me?  Why was I so easy to leave?”

“Oh fuck, Cookie,” Pero presses a soft kiss to your forehead as fresh tears cascade down your cheeks, “I’m so sorry.  I should have.  I should have tried every day.  I should have begged on my knees.  I wanted to.  I just didn’t want to scare you or force you to see me if you hated me.  But it killed me.  I regret not trying everyday to get you back.  I’m sorry, baby.”

He tells you about not wanting to make you feel unsafe by showing up when you didn’t expect him, and you have to admit that that was quite thoughtful.  “And it wasn’t easy to be without you, princesa.  I’ve missed you every day.  Your laugh.  And your voice.  And all the sweet and funny things you say that brighten up my day.  Knowing that you were hurt and that I couldn’t do anything, I felt so fucking useless.”

You glace up at him, nervous and pitiful the way you whisper, “You laughed, Pero.”

Pero looks confused until you explain what you heard.  His eyes widen in comprehension, realizing that all this time, it wasn’t just the foul words that you had overheard that had hurt you, but the idea, the certainty, that he had felt the same way as those morons.  His heart drops to his stomach.  He cannot get down on his knees fast enough to beg your forgiveness.  Gently lifting you off his lap, he slides to the ground onto his knees and takes your hands, laying them on your lap clasped in his.

“Pero, you don’t have to…” this is unnecessary, you think.

But to Pero it isn’t unnecessary.  In fact, it’s entirely necessary that he assumes this position of reverence and humility.  His expression solemn but desperate as he explains, trying to walk you through the events that you only partially overheard.  Needing you to understand that the laughter you heard wasn’t conciliatory, but an uncontrolled outburst stemming from his own anger.  As he speaks, you feel as if you were there with him, feeling the rage he felt at you being disrespected and insulted vibrating through his hands.  When he finishes, Pero’s exhausted at having relived those moments; the fury he felt once again fresh in his chest, but this time paired with shame that he ever allowed you to go about your life thinking he had felt anything but love and veneration for you.  He lays his head on your hands, ready to receive whatever harsh judgment you rain down on him.  He deserves it.

When he feels your soft hands move to stroke his face and run gently through his hair, he looks up to see you gazing back at him softly, eyes filled with tears again, “Oh Pero, I’m so sorry.”

Confused, he frowns a little, “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, Cookie.”

Shaking your head, you have to disagree, “I shouldn’t have doubted you, Pero.  You’ve shown me so many times how genuine and honourable you are, I should have given you the benefit of the doubt and let you explain rather than assuming the worst.  You deserved more from me.”

He can’t have this, you taking any blame for your own hurt; rising to his feet and pulling you up with him, he whispers, “I should have tried every day to explain.  To take better care of your heart.  You deserved more from me.”  Then he kisses you and your heart explodes; every emotion you feel: love, regret, relief, gratefulness, joy, all spill over and your lips desperately try to calligraph what you’re unable to say onto Pero’s.  He kisses you with the hunger and longing of a man far too long parched, one having just stumbled upon the oasis of your forgiveness. 

“How come Leah said we’re clos--,” William’s voice cuts through your dream-like bubble.  Pero looks up at his friend, who reads the situation for what it is immediately.  Your heart softens further upon seeing William, realizing you had misjudged him as well.  William is all smiles, his good nature not easily affected as he claps Pero’s shoulder and demonstrates happiness for his friend’s obvious joy. 

“If Leah can call everyone back, how about we still open, pay everyone double for the confusion, and I call in someone to cover the front door tonight?” offers William, and Pero easily assents with a nod of his head.

“Wait,” you say, pushing back slightly from Pero’s arms so you can look between both men, “…the two of you can just open or close the restaurant whenever you want?”

Pero and William glance at each other as you continue, “…and you make the pay decisions?  Like paying people for not working… or double?”

You look right at Pero, “And you have the authority to fire dishwashers and busboys?”

Pero takes a deep breath, “Cookie, there’s something I have to tell you.”

You’re looking at both him and William with such a high degree of incredulousness, Pero thinks that this is perhaps the first time he’s ever been on the receiving end of a look as stern as the ones he’s used to giving.  William looks sheepish and gives Pero a wide-eyed side glance that clearly says: Can’t help you, brother.  Sighing, Pero bites the bullet, “William and I… we’re not just the host and bouncer of Lin… we’re the owners.”

You take a step back and cross your arms, tilting your head and raising your eyebrows, silent while you take this in.

“The restaurant is named after Lin Mae, William’s wife… and it’s not the only restaurant we own.  We have a restaurant group in the city… and in a few other cities as well,” finishes Pero, afraid to meet your eye.

“Let me get this straight,” you say very deliberately and slowly, “you’re an internationally celebrated restauranteur… and you let me cook for you??!” You punch Pero hard in the arm before covering your face in embarrassment.

Both William and Pero chuckle and Pero rubs his big strong hands up and down your arms, soothingly, “I love your cooking, Cookie.”

Voice still muffled behind your hands, you sigh, “Don’t patronize me.”

“I would never, princesa,” Pero pulls you close and presses loving kisses to your temple, “Truly, I’ve loved everything you ever made me.”

“Your cookies are the best,” chimes in William, “my favourite were the salted caramel.”

You didn’t know Pero had shared your cookie bribes, but the fact that William’s favourite were Pero’s least makes you smile a little.

A new thought strikes you, “Is this why I’ve never been to your place?”

At this, Pero does look ashamed, “Oh Cookie, I’m sorry.  I knew if you saw my place, the jig would be up.”

You wave goodbye to William as you and Pero head to the locker room to grab his belongings before leaving; after Pero’s confessions today, you won’t make the mistake of assuming any ill intent on his part again, but you are curious, “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I didn’t intend on keeping it from you, I swear,” says Pero, thoughtfully, “but I can’t say it wasn’t a little bit liberating to have you get to know just me, without all the bells and whistles.  It’s very rare to be seen for who I am, and not what I do or what I have.”

This, you can understand well, and you know Pero knows you do.  You snuggle in closer to him, listening to the steady beating of Pero’s heart for the whole of the elevator ride.  As you exit the building and walk towards his bike, Pero does apologize, “But I should have told you the truth sooner, Cookie.  I’m not sure why I didn’t, except that things were going well and I didn’t want anything to change.”

He looks a little like a wounded puppy, and you decide that the two of you have wasted enough time on regrets so you lace your fingers behind his neck and pull him down for a deep, tender kiss. “You’re forgiven, Pero,” you purr into his mouth, “for everything.”

“Do you want to go to my place now?” Pero smiles against your lips.

Eyes brightening, you nod.  For some reason, going to Pero’s home for the first time feels like the start of a new beginning, and you can’t help but bounce a little in excitement as Pero lowers his helmet over your head.  The feeling of wearing a bike helmet, Pero’s helmet in particular, and getting ready to ride on the back of his bike again, drives home for you the realness of your reconnection.  You sigh in contentment as you anticipate the familiar hum of the motor beneath you.  Pero revels in a similar sentiment, unable to believe the good fortune that when he takes off tonight, it will once again be with the feeling of your arms wrapped snugly around his midsection.

Speeding past your apartment and riding further north, Pero eventually pulls into a garage beneath a luxury high-rise in one of the city’s most exclusive areas.  You chuckle when you realize it’s about a block away from where Dorothy lives.  During the elevator’s long ride up, you jokingly ask if Pero’s ever had any near misses with Dorothy in the neighbourhood, and his laughter while he shakes his head leads you to believe he has.

When the elevator doors open to a private foyer with only one locked doorway, you realize, he lives in the penthouse, the fucker!  Your breath is taken away the moment Pero opens his front door: floor to ceiling windows border the open concept space so you can admire a near 180 degree view of the city just from where you stand.  The room has a simple, modern aesthetic, but you’re not fooled by the minimalist look of the furniture – your keen eye can tell that everything in this room has been thoughtfully selected for its quality, fit and function.  Though understated, the luxurious feel of the décor is evident; everything has its place, fitting together elegantly.  You spy a few personal touches of Pero’s, including a model of a Ducati motorcycle that looks familiar even in its miniature form.  But what truly leaves you awestruck is the kitchen: the cabinets and appliances are primarily stainless steel, giving it a professional industrial look, but the accent surfaces of marble and white lacquer tie in the space with the rest of the apartment’s sleek feel.  It’s huge.  And well loved, you can tell.  You hungrily eye all the cool kitchen gadgets and appliances resting along the counter tops and the large marble island that centers the design.  Your mouth might water a little at the thought of all the delicious food that has been prepared here.

“Hungry, Cookie?” asks Pero, amused as if he can read your mind.

Turning towards him, you see how relaxed and at home he looks among all this understated luxury, and not for the first time, you find yourself stunned by how devastatingly handsome he is.  Throwing yourself at him, your mouth connects with his, open and willing, “Yes, Pero.  I’m hungry.”

After removing each others’ clothing in a frenzy, giggling while tossing garments behind and over furniture, flinging some to the far corners of the room, Pero gently lays you down on his plush carpet, ready to worship you.  He takes his time kissing and licking each line and curve of your body, reacquainting himself with every dip and valley, as if he could ever have truly forgotten their taste.  Each shudder and whimper he pulls from you a small victory for him that your body has missed him too. 

By the time Pero buries his face between your legs, you’re boneless and aching, a sticky mess already painting the inside of your thighs as you cry out for Pero to give you some relief.  Your hands tug and pull at his hair, your words drip with soft pleas, then desperate demands, but nothing with hurry Pero.  He’s on a mission to seek penance from your pussy and nothing will deter him.  Every lick and stroke of his tongue an apology, each flick and circle of your clit an atonement for his wrongs, his two, then three fingers curl inside you pleading for forgiveness.  You grant it with your back arched and your mouth open in a soundless scream, forgetting why you had ever even been apart.

When he finally enters you, it’s slow and sweet, arms bracing your head and fingers stroking your hair as he whispers words of love and praise.

“Missed you so much, Cookie.”

“Feel so good around me, princesa.  Never going to leave this perfect cunt again.”

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Your eyes never leave his, even when they fill with tears.  He just feels so good.  And you missed him so much.  Now he’s yours again.  He was always yours.  And he loves you.  And you love him, too.  You sing it so he knows.

It’s slow and sweet, until it’s not.  The urgency of Pero’s thrusts is accompanied by the crushing of his lips to yours.  As your tongues dance, your fingers do the same on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the summit.  Every drive of Pero’s hips bottoms him out deep in your cunt, the force of which you absorb with pleasure, crying out for more, more, more.  He gladly delivers - he’ll never deny you anything ever.  So long as you remain his, everything that’s his is yours for the taking, “Take it, princesa.  Take my cock like the good girl you are.”  You do as he commands, taking it all until you come, clenching down so hard on his length that Pero’s own fall isn’t far behind.  Both still panting and lightheaded from your twin highs, you hold each other close with Pero softening inside you, kissing and whispering I love you until you both come back down to Earth. 

---

Padding into Pero’s kitchen wearing nothing but one of his dress shirts, you wrap your arms around Pero’s waist as he lifts the cookies from the baking sheet with a spatula.  Handing you a warm cookie, he watches you in anticipation as you take a bite.  The reversal of your roles from when you first met not lost on him.

The sweet taste on your tongue is heavenly, “10/10.  Ginger molasses, my favourite,” you beam, “This tastes a lot like the one at the restaurant.”

“Of course it does, Cookie,” Pero answers, as if it’s obvious.  He continues to transfer the remaining cookies to the cooling rack, “Who do you think gave the recipe to the kitchen?  I had them start to bake them a while ago.  Just wanted to have something at the restaurant that reminded me of you.”

“That so sweet,” you coo, reaching for a second cookie.

“And maybe subconsciously I thought, bake it and she will come.”

Munching down on the sweet treat, you quip, “You really have Joanna to thank you that.  She’s the one who wanted to come to Lin today.”

“I mean, if we’re going to get technical about it, the person I really have to thank is Dorothy, since she’s the one who wanted to eat at Lin in the first place,” shrugs Pero.

“Should I invite her over?” you giggle, only half joking.

“Why not?  But maybe put some pants on first,” chuckles Pero, as he turns to clean the dirty baking tools in the sink.

Giggling as you head to Pero’s closet to find a pair of sweatpants, you type out a message on your phone: Dorie, you’ll never guess where I am!

2 years later

“… the bride was a vision in custom off the shoulder, full length Vera Wang.  The bridesmaids wore matching vintage Gucci from Tom Ford’s 1996 collection.  Not to be outdone, the groom, elusive restauranteur Pero Tovar, impressed in his custom black and white Zegna tuxedo.  Guests were in for a special surprise and honour; the reception of the joyous nuptials was held in the restaurateur’s newest addition to his culinary empire with the celebrations serving as the restaurant’s private opening.  Per a statement from the groom and his business partner, William Garin’s representatives, the restaurant, which will have its public opening following the happy couple’s honeymoon, is named ‘Mi Galleta’ as a gift to his new wife.”

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 ༄ | 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ࣪𖤐

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ♕

𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚-𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜!𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧| 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 / 𝙂𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You are at an awful party before meeting Loki on a balcony. You both share a conversation of tension and the smoke of cigarette. "I desire to learn as to why your voice is etched into the walls of my mind.”

.ᐟ 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 / 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙨

You were invited to a fancy dinner gathering. Granted, the night will be filled with disapproving stares and senseless rats that gossip and dance. The party is to be filled with discussions of wealth and flaunts of businesses.

You’ve decided to wear something strong and bold to the eye. A dress, a garment gracefully descending to caress the midpoint of your thigh. Something distinct, the design laced with small bits of shining gems. The color green, the color of money.

“Oh, come on now, let's us not be blinded by the truth! You ARE a child of wedlock!”

Laughter. Moronic rich people who have nothing to do but bring people down to get where they want to be. They provoke emotions to ruin reputations, a plan consisting of their followers, followers that have the task of laughing along brainlessly, like backup performers in a circus.

“Atleast I need not to suck my father's cock just to please him.” You spat, earning frowns and gasps around your crowd.

You were not born out of wealth like these people, but you worked hard and climbed the ranks to get where you are now. These people ridicule you to no end because they cannot fathom the fact you worked hard for something only they should have the privilege of.

You turn to your heel, but before walking away, “Oh daddy, will you give me more money if I take your length?” You hissed, enunciating each word with a baby-like voice, earning once more, faces filled with anger to the specific affluent.

You walk away, ignoring the whispers that grew loudly from the scene you've caused. You turn to find an escape, a window, a balcony.

Perfect. You sighed whilst entering the balcony that finally smelled like fresh air instead of fake money. You walked till you reached the edge of the balcony, smelling the cold air and enjoying the moonlit night.

You whip out a cigarette from your dress's pocket; you usually only smoke when you are pissed or generally just done with everything.

You bring it up to your mouth before realizing you left your lighter inside your bag. “Damn.” You whisper, biting your lip before hearing a soft chuckle, deep and low.

You turn your head and see a man dressed in a suit of green, hair slicked back, and smoke puffed out of his lips. He looks at you, his green eyes shining into yours, it was unreadable but his gaze felt dangerous.

“Your dress is charming.” He comments.

“Yes, well, it's wasted to the rats here.” You respond, not caring if this man could be one of them moronic people. He takes a single step closer to you.

“My name is Loki. Loki of Asgard.” Asgard? It must be a country you don't know of. “My father makes me come to these dull events for social 'interactions'." He continues.

“I assume you cheat out of it every time, simply by going here?” You guessed, seeing as he looked pleased here on the balcony.

He simply smirked in response. “I go by the name (y/n).” You say, deciding to share your name as a courtesy.

“Ah yes, so I've heard.” Silence surrounds you both, not wanting to question what he meant by that. You were frequently talked about, though it was more like being gossiped on.

You were getting quietly uncomfortable with the silence. You had nothing to do with your hands except hold your unlit cigarette.

Out of habit, you bring your cigar up to your mouth. The man beside you suddenly inches closer. He puts his free arm around and touches the other end of the balcony, locking you in without touching you.

He leans closer, faces inches apart. He then positions his cigarette with the one in your hand and shares the fire with you. Once it was lit, you bring it up to your lips and puff the smoke out, relieved you finally got to smoke.

“Thank you.” You say, suddenly feeling his arm move to your waist. You look at him with a questioning eyebrow. He moves his face away slightly. “Hmm?” You hummed.

“I must say I've heard stories about you. Fascinating that it leaves me wondering..” He cuts his sentence off and inhales his cigarette.

He takes his hand off your waist and takes your chin instead, tilting it slightly up. You smirked, opening your mouth ever so slightly, and Loki proceeded to blow the puff of smoke inside.

You inhale it, blowing it out of your nose simultaneously. “I wonder, what is under that false display of yours.” He finishes.

He releases his hold on you, moving his hands to the side of your neck. You feel him brush against your ear. “I want to open your soul." He confesses, whispering his words like a prayer.

"I desire to learn as to why your voice is etched into the walls of my mind.”

You stood there, frozen in place. You decided to puff another smoke, exhaling it out on his neck as his face was still beside your ear. “My my, you're one interested man, aren't you?” You teased.

He chuckles softly before standing up straight. He swiftly takes something out of his pocket. “Here, call me whenever you need me.”

"Let's talk soon." He hands you a card, which you quickly take. He turns on his heel, and just like that, your smoking partner was gone.

“How amusing.”

𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙: Star (@_ynyaan) ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[jor-elsemissary]

Want

—————————

Martha Kent.

She was perhaps the most singular thing in his world that he could not acquire with wealth and power, or manipulate with words and charm. It wasn’t because of a lack of trying, no, she was simply something he did not want to ruin with his touch.

His presence was a poison that became more toxic the longer you stood beside him. A word from him could turn the most innocent person into a desperate man willing to kill. A few thousand Washingtons could buy him the time of day. A whisper in the shadows would ruin a man.

But Martha Kent?

She seemed immune to him. His charm and wit had only amused her. She was cautious with him, like she knew he was a viper waiting in the tall grass to strike. This farmer’s wife had a way to get past his ruthlessness and draw out a deep desire to impress her by any means.

In all his years, not even with Lillian, has he ever felt like offering his life for another. And yet that is what he had tried to do when Lincoln Cole had held them captive.

He knew then and there that he was in love with Martha Kent.

He would die for her.

“Martha…” her name was a reverence to be whispered lest some evil would hear and ruin all that made her who she was.

Her hand on his arm was like fire to his ice. It burned and melted away the armor he had crafted and wore for himself, leaving him feeling bare for her to see. He knew she sees through his flirtations and visits for what they really are and yet she does not ever send him away like some rejected suitor.

He comes back every time in the hopes that this time it would be different. This time she would invite him to stay. This time she would give him a kiss if only to greet him or say goodbye. But he leaves every time feeling hope for them and disappointed all the same.

He wanted her.

Not just simply to take to bed like he would have in the past. A conquest to mark like the many other women and girls. No. She wasnt something to conquer. She wasn’t a trophy to collect and add to his exotic collection.

Martha Kent was to be cherished and loved, and if he had to do that at arms length, he was willing to play the role of platonic lover.

He wanted her.

He wanted her smiles, the way it would crinkle the corners of her eyes and telling him how genuine and happy she was. He wanted her laughter, the sound of it like one of his piano sonatas he so liked to play. He wanted her gratitude for something he did that she approved. He wanted her approval like some abused school boy seeking validation.

He wanted her love above all else.

Because the love Martha Kent gave was real. It would not be born out of an arranged marriage so he could have her money. It would not be manipulated into her so that she would never think of a time when she did not love him.

No. Martha Kent needed to genuinely love him. He needed to hear her say those words with true meaning and affection. The one time she had said how much he had meant to her, it had sent him soaring so high he didn’t know what to say or do.

Her love, he knew, would have him riding cloud nine.

God, Martha Kent being just out of his reach was just enough to drive him to madness.

“Lionel?” his name on her lips always drew his attention away from whatever it was he was doing or thinking. “Are you alright?”

“I’m… sorry?” Why was she asking him that?

“You seemed… lost in thought back there?” Back there? Back where? Oh. Who had they been talking to before his thoughts drifted to about her?

“I… I’m fine. I just, was.” Lionel Luthor never got tongue tied around anyone before. But Martha had that way with him. She had the knack to cut short whatever thought he was going to express, pause, and rethink his life choices before saying something she wanted or approved. “I was just thinking about you.”

“That bored you have to use me to entertain yourself?” she gently teased and he wanted nothing more than to take her from this political event and tell her (and show her) exactly what he had been thinking about.

“Shall we exit stage left then?” he offered. “We’ve been here long enough to impress the right people and worry the rest.”

“Please.” Her arm linked through his and he guided them through the various guests of the party. “Even though I have been going to these for years now, I still haven’t gotten use to it. I suppose it’s all the false platitudes and promises that get to me.”

No matter how much he guides her through his world, he knows he will never get the farm out of her. Martha Kent is and always will be that Kansas farmer that he has come to cherish and love, and these people here have no idea whom they have amongst them.

“You never really get use to it,” he confesses, a smile on his lips as he admires her. “But you have come a long way and those people know that.”

Martha rested her head against his shoulder once they were outside and waiting for his limousine to arrive. He could feel her trust and affection in just that gesture alone. It was the small things like that which kept him going and hoping for more.

He wanted Martha Kent and he was determined to do things right with her.

[pherelesytsia]

Love me Sweet

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female Reader

Summary: As Thomas Shelby hears Y/N´s parents are searching for a suitable husband for their child Y/N faces a loveless marriage she hoped to never encounter, but slowly the cold walls crumble as the scent of spring is dancing over the meadows.

Warning: Arranged marriage.

Word Count: 2.1k

a/n: The story is longer than I thought, so I made it a two-part story. If you like, I can add a third part. Write me if you want.

PART TWO PART THREE

Thomas Shelby Masterlist

Clouds mingled with the trees bordering the road like a high fence. No words left her sore throat and for a moment Y/N thought she could hear the ravens cawing as they quickly flew away, noticing the vehicle speeding past them. The rim of the rising sun hidden behind a dense layer of clouds resembled an eye watching over the land.

Thomas pulled on the cigar between his lips and blew the smoke toward the half-open window. His eyes kept sliding to his wife at his side, noticing her finger graced with a golden ring tapping against the dark leather. Still, Y/N hated her parents for what they had done, had sold her to the wealthiest family, like a horse, and forced her to marry an emotionless man with one stern face. The marriage was without love, based on money and wealth, on promises, and when Y/N told her parents that she did not adore the man they had chosen for her; they laughed at the young woman and ignored the words filled with truth. Tears blurred her vision. Y/N knew who she would meet in the mansion she was forced to call her home, but it wasn’t a home, a place of peace and laughter. She couldn´t escape, knew she had to sit by her husband's side and put on a believable smile, letting people believe she loved the Shelby with her entire heart and all her soul. Y/N probably would have fallen in love with him one day, after a few dates, after long dinners and visits to the theatre, but she hardly knew him, knew he liked whiskey.

Clouds travelled west. Wide and narrow patches of the darkening sky appeared. The first of the stars announced the coming of night, and the rising wind knocked on the car driving along the long road. Silence reigned and Thomas knew his wife wanted to stay home, but she couldn't, had to accompany him to the bar, had to stay by his side. It was like an unwritten law. His blue eyes settled on Y/N. He pressed his lips firmly together, having planned his life with Y/N by his side differently. He knew his brothers didn't understand why, but he didn't mind, had his eyes on the young woman for a long time and asked her parents for her hand in marriage as he heard they were searching for a husband for their daughter, knew what men had already come to the doorstep.

"Can you at least pretend to enjoy the company of my brothers?", "I could if I didn't know your brothers have a problem with me," she interjected.

"Ada likes you.", "And the kids adore you," Thomas added after a few moments.

His gaze stayed on the deserted road, glancing again and again at his wife and seeing the faint smile spreading across her lips as she remembered the days she spent with the children in the garden under a lonely tree.

"Ada will be there, too. You can stay with her. I have no problem with it.", "Thank you for allowing me, Thomas. This is how I imagined my life as a married woman.” joked Y/N in a bitter tone.

"When are you going to come to terms with it?" he huffed.

"When we get to know each other better. I can't say I love you. How long do we know each other? Three months, married for two and then there are your wonderful brothers letting me know there are more suitable women under the moon." Y/N said.

She did not fear his anger, had heard his brothers talking about her, who could not understand why Thomas had chosen the young woman. Y/N felt strong enough to face Thomas and turned.

"Give me time. I am sorry, but you can't force me to love you. We know each other too short for that." Y/N added whispering.

The words escaped the depths of her heart, spoke the words she wanted to say for a long time.

"You cannot complain. You have everything you desire. A house, food, clothing, everything.", "Should I feel honoured Thomas? If so, I'll let you know now that I'm not honoured and I'm glad you're delighted. Yes, you are right, I have everything, yet I don’t have a loving and carrying husband." Y/N said in a firm tone, no longer trying to stay calm.

Thomas laughed low.

"How would you feel if your brothers came to you to announce that on Wednesday you were going to marry somebody you barely know? You don't know her, you've seen her maybe twice in your life and this person will be your specific other.” she cried out loud.

Tears clouded her vision and left traces on her skin.

“You hope the family will welcome you with open arms, but they let you know they are not pleased and you wonder why I'm not feeling well in this relationship Thomas." she turned angrily to Thomas, no longer holding back her emotions.

Suddenly Y/N noticed the car had come to a halt, noticed that they had arrived, that Thomas had parked the vehicle in front of the mansion among the others in dark tones. The wooden door opened. Faintly John smiled with a cigarette between his lips, looking at the two newlyweds still seated in the vehicle in the deep blueish tones. Thomas exhaled, forced a smile, and gestured to his wife to get out of the car, no longer wanting to argue with her.

"We'll talk about it in the evening." he breathed.

Thomas leaned forward and placed his lips on her cheek, Y/N didn't flinch, allowing Thomas to kiss her, but no pleasant warmth was spreading in her heart, felt no butterflies, no fire burning in her chest, longing for love and adoration.

"Of course, you shouldn’t spend so much time in your office, then we could talk sometime and get to know each other. The only thing I know about you is that your name is Thomas and that you like rum and cigars." Y/N whispered as she opened the door, not wanting to wait to allow Thomas to open the door for her.

The wind was icy. The hem of her dress rose. Quickly Y/N closed the long dark brown coat, buttoned the buttons, and went forward, smiled again as she felt John's gaze resting on her, following her as she stopped next to the vehicle, not noticing Katie standing at her father's side. Words escaped the young girl, laughed and smiled as she witnessed her aunt at the side of her uncle.

The traces of winter were almost gone, and the first flowers were breaking through the soil. Naked branches swayed in the next gust. The air was heavy. Patiently, Y/N waited, hearing Thomas's footsteps quicken to stand at her side. A low thanks escaped him as he stopped by her side. The scent of burning wood and the unmistakable smell of cigars enveloped her. Thomas offered his arm and gratefully Y/N took it and together they walked towards the entrance of the mansion.

"Good evening, John." she greeted the Shelby forcing a smile.

"I'm glad to see you too," he said coldly in response.

Smiling Y/N looked down at Katie who stepped away from her father.

"Good afternoon aunt Y/N." escaped the girl joyfully.

Quickly, Thomas followed his brother and went inside the house, leaving the two alone without a word. Y/N knelt down to be on eye level with the young girl and laughed. Y/N´s gaze travelled to the two men, looked after them. She didn’t regret the words she had said, and hoped she would love him one day. Y/N had fallen in love with Thomas a long time ago, yet she couldn’t kiss him, wasn’t able to form her lips to the affectionate words he wanted to hear.

"Can we play today, I got a new doll," the girl said and Y/N shook her head.

"I'm sorry but I have to leave with the others. Thomas asked me nicely to accompany him to the celebration, but you don't have to worry, you can show me your dolls tomorrow in the morning.” Y/N assured lovingly.

The glow disappeared from Katie´s eyes, but then she nodded understandingly.

"But come on, we should go inside, we don’t want you to get sick, otherwise you won't be able to play with me in the garden next time." Y/N joked in a somewhat sterner tone and Katie laughed.

The girl dressed in a long blueish dress nodded happily and clasped her aunt's hand, forcing her to follow her after she had let the door fall shut. Voices grew louder with each step they took. The smile disappeared from Y/N ´s features. A tense atmosphere prevailed in the house. Stern faces were kissed by the rising flames in the fireplace.

"We can take Katie with us.", "No, we can´t," Thomas interjected in a firm tone.

Immediately, Y/N's ears perked up.

"We can't take a child to the bar," Arthur said with his hands folded in front of his chest.

In disapproval, Arthur and Thomas shook their heads, couldn’t believe what the young brother had said.

"If you want John, I can watch Katie. I don't mind, and I'm sure she would be delighted if I stay with her." a faint voice broke through the commotion.

Pairs of eyes immediately settled on the young woman holding the girl's hand, standing by her side. The three men had not noticed that Y/N had entered the room. Questioningly, they looked at each other, and then John looked from her back to Thomas, who looked at his pocket watch again and nodded in approval.

“Thank you Y/N,” John said.

"Good, we have no more time to lose. Come on, we have to go. Goodbye Y/N." Arthur announced.

Swiftly Arthur walked past them, followed by John, after he had said his daughter to behave well. Y/N smiled again, thankful she could spend the rest of the day with Katie, not longing for a night of alcohol and booming laughter. Thomas turned to his wife and ignored his brothers' calls for him to hurry, stepped forward with long strides, and smiled faintly.

"Before you say anything, Thomas, I'm not doing this to avoid you or your brothers. I don't want Katie to see a bar at her age. It's not a place for children." Y/N said.

Thomas nodded wordlessly, not wanting to argue with his wife of a few weeks. The dark suit suited him well, the dark tie rested on the white button-down. He took a step forward and visibly Y/N tensed and Thomas witnessed it, felt how his heart was breaking. Lowering her gaze, Y/N remembered the wedding ceremony where he had first kissed her on her lips. It was not a kiss filled with love, yet it was pleasant. Gently Thomas placed his lips on her cheek, leaving warmth behind. He let his right-hand settle on the small of her back, didn’t force her to be close to his chest but applied loving touches.

"If you need anything, call me. You know the phone number of the bar. John couldn't get hold of Ada. Maybe she's on her way, so don't be surprised if someone rings," Thomas spoke and stepped away.

“Please be careful.” a faint voice spoke.

Abruptly Thomas stopped and turned, couldn’t believe his ears, thought he was about to wake up from a lovely dream. Quickly the Shelby realised he had heard right. Thomas loved her sincerely, was glad her parents had allowed him to marry Y/N, even if he had imagined the life of a married man otherwise. A comfortable silence reigned in the mansion and Thomas wanted to stay, didn’t want to leave with his brother, felt the desire to settle down on the armchair next to the fireplace and listen to her delicate voice.

Taglist:

blyanyan fckmini Talessandra9792 1-800-coffee millies0bsimp marvelwhoreunfortunately alessandra9792 smailaway summertimedepression alldaysdreamers elliaze mystic-gnome

kathrinemelissa tedpicklez daynaelizabethclairereynolds

[leiawritesstories]

blood-soaked gown

*clears throat nervously* Welcome to this You're On Your Own, Kid-inspired oneshot! (@house-of-galathynius it's angst monster playtime)

word count: 2.5k

warnings: language, Arobynn, business talk, drunkenness, violence, blood, miscarriage, angst

enjoy (?)

I looked around in a blood-soaked gown

And I saw something they can't take away

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

"Remind me why exactly we're here again?" Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius whispered into her husband's ear, slipping him a covert little wink.

Rowan's lips twitched with the effort of keeping his polite expression in place. "The usual--workplace expectation, family expectation, you know the drill."

"Ah, the perils of being born into a disgustingly rich family," Aelin murmured, squeezing his arm. "First chance I get, though..."

"I'll be right beside you," her husband promised. "Gods, I might hate these damn parties worse than you."

She chuckled. "That's because you weren't brought up to schmooze, Ro."

"Poor me," he whispered, his voice dropping low. "Having to sip drinks and serve as arm candy for my gorgeous wife all night long."

"You've got a few more uses than that," she teased, winking.

His smirk set fire to the embers pooled low in her belly. "Allow me to show you just that, my love."

"After the dinner, buzzard," she reminded him, giggling softly at his frustrated grumble.

"Fine," he conceded. "But if this thing drags on...we're leaving."

Aelin grinned. "I'll make my excuses." Smoothing one hand down the fine, lustrous silk of her formal gown, the deep pine hue perfectly paired with her husband's eyes, she redirected Rowan over towards the beckoning circle of her parents and a few of their business associates.

"Aelin!" Evalin exclaimed warmly, welcoming her daughter into the cluster of elegantly dressed, fabulously rich business aficionados. "You look stunning, my dear."

"Thank you," Aelin smiled, painting a charming smile across her face despite the faint nausea lingering in the back of her throat and pit of her stomach.

Probably because Arobynn Hamel was there.

A longtime business associate of her parents', Arobynn had long been known to have near-infinite wealth and almost as much affinity for eyeing young women. Aelin had first been introduced to the red-haired man at a gala she'd attended with her parents when she was fifteen. She'd immediately internally recoiled from his oily leer and the way his hand lingered on hers a little too long. And each time she came to a business function, she grew a little more disgusted by the man.

But his apparently endless wealth was well tied into Ashryver-Galathynius Realty, so she gave Arobynn Hamel the same cool, professionally detached treatment she gave to every other business partner and client with whom she met.

"Congratulations, Ms. Galathynius," Arobynn purred, tipping his whiskey glass at her. Aelin's blood froze solid for a moment, until he continued. "Closing that deal with the Cortlands is a remarkable achievement."

Right. The Cortland deal. Aelin inclined her head, smiling modestly. "Well, after enough time, even the Cortlands realized how much of an asset to their business it would be to partner with us."

The Cortlands were an old-money family who'd long been established in the banking business, and they had been Aelin's clients for several months as they looked into purchasing a new property in the sleek new business district in South Orynth. The only catch? They had been trying their very best to swindle one of the company's associates into buying the property for a ridiculously low price, until Aelin stepped in and told Sam Cortland in very few words where he and his dynasty could shove their offer.

Nearly seven months after the Cortlands had approached AG Realty, Aelin had closed a deal on the property, shaking hands with Sam and restraining her triumphant smirk to a pleased smile. That had been a mere week or so ago, so of course the firm and its associates would be hearing about it.

"I'm sure the Cortlands will be a wonderful asset," she added, flicking a knowing glance at her parents.

Rhoe grinned. "My fearsome daughter."

She chuckled. "Hardly, Dad. People are just scared of a woman who knows what she's talking about."

"Quite the threat indeed," Arobynn offered, his gaze a few shades more than could be considered polite.

Aelin restrained herself from stepping on his foot with her stiletto heel as she made her excuses, noticing Elide beckoning her from a short distance away. "Thank you," she murmured to her friend, giving the petite brunette a quick hug.

"Anything to save you from that creep," Elide returned, flicking the blonde a knowing glance. "Having fun, Whitethorn?"

"Shut up," Rowan mumbled, taking a larger-than-necessary swallow of his drink.

Aelin chuckled, sliding her hand back around her husband's arm. "He always has the time of his life at these lovely little parties." She pecked a kiss onto his cheek. "Love, will you get me a drink?"

Thankful to have something to do besides pretend he could tolerate anybody except his wife and the few friends in the room, Rowan strolled over to the bar, pouring Aelin a glass of sparkling cider. Why she preferred to drink something nonalcoholic at these functions, he didn't entirely know.

Though he suspected it may have something to do with how tense she always was around Arobynn Hamel and his disgusting roving eye.

"Here you are, love."

"Thank you." She stole a quick kiss, making Elide flutter her lashes and coo.

"Aww, look at the lovebirds!"

"Quiet," Aelin laughed, "you and that hulking brute of yours are just as bad."

Elide snickered. "It's not my fault Lorcan's a big old softie."

"Bet that's not what you call him in bed," Aelin smirked.

Her friend's face went scarlet. "Aelin!" she whisper-shrieked, smacking the blonde's shoulder. "No!"

"Girls' night never lies," Aelin crooned.

"And what happens at girls' night stays at girls' night," Elide retorted.

"All right, all right." Aelin raised her drink in concession. "I won't say anything else about you and Salvaterre being all sappy." Out of the corner of her eye, she caught yet another senior business partner motioning to her, and sighed. "Once more unto the breach."

"Do you--"

She shook her head, squeezing Rowan's hand. "It's just Darrow and a few of his associates, you can stay here and keep Elide and Lorcan company."

"Thank the gods," Rowan mumbled.

She just chuckled, kissed his cheek, and strolled over to meet Darrow and the few men with him, greeting the man who'd been her business advisor for many years affectionately. "So you need some young ears, hmm?"

"I'm not a fossil yet," Darrow fake-sighed, the lines around his eyes crinkling as he smiled at her. "We just wanted to congratulate you on the Cortland deal."

"Ah, don't make such a fuss about it," she smiled.

The older gentleman shook his head wryly. "Always downplaying your achievements, young one." He patted her shoulder. "Mrs. Whitethorn Galathynius here managed to rope the Cortlands themselves into a deal with AG Realty, can you believe it?"

"Impressive." Dorian Havilliard's dark brows shot up. "And you managed to do this in under two years?"

Aelin laughed quietly. She and the younger Havilliard--a brilliant civil defense attorney--had been friends since they were young. "Seven months, give or take a few days."

Dorian whistled. "Congratulations, then!" He raised his glass to her. "I argued a case for old Cortland several years ago, and let me tell you, the amount of demands that man had almost drove my partners insane."

"Oh, stop flattering me," she laughed, but raised her glass anyway. "Thank you, Dorian."

He winked. "Anything for the future of Orynth's commercial real estate."

She chatted with Dorian, Darrow, and a couple of others for a short while before Evalin came and stole her away to speak with the senior associates of AG Realty. Aelin caught Rowan's eye as she walked with her mother.

Need me? his raised eyebrow asked.

I'll be fine, she returned. Keep Lorcan from drinking too much, yeah?

Will do, Fireheart.

So Aelin sipped on her sparkling cider and chatted with the senior associates and her parents, discussing a few upcoming clients and whether or not they should accept some of the offers that poured in daily. Most notably, Arobynn Hamel was considering buying yet another property in the industrial district.

What that man wanted with so many warehouses, Aelin couldn't even begin to imagine.

"I don't see any reason why we shouldn't move forward with that deal," Rhoe mused. "He's always been a credible buyer, never misses payments or defaults on anything."

"What about the..." Evalin lowered her voice, keeping their conversation private. "What about that article?"

Two weeks ago, the Orynth Journal, which was admittedly a tabloid at best, had published an article that almost instantly went viral. In it, they claimed to have evidence linking Arobynn Hamel and his holdings in the industrial district to an international drug trafficking ring. Of course, since it was tabloid journalism, the reliability of this "evidence" had to be questioned, but still--was there any truth to it?

When privately questioned, Arobynn had--of course--denied all of it, maintaining his sleek professional exterior and, apparently, putting AG Realty enough at ease that they decided to dismiss the rumors as the workings of the tabloids. Aelin still had her suspicions, given that the man was a certified creep, but she deferred to her parents' judgment. She wouldn't raise too many questions, not unless some new information that cast true suspicion onto Arobynn came into light.

"We agreed that was all tabloid nonsense," Darrow reminded Evalin, though there was a hint of concern buried in his keen gaze.

"I know," Evalin sighed. "Very well, then. We can negotiate the deal with him when--"

"FUCK OFF!" The slurred yell completely shattered the elegant mood of the evening.

Horrified, everyone whirled around, finding Arobynn Hamel with a half-empty bottle of Scotch clutched in his hand, a glazed sheen of obvious drunkenness in his eyes and a sneer on his face.

His yell had been directed at Dorian, who held up his hands in a placating gesture. "No, Mr. Hamel, you misunderstand! I am not--I would never accuse you of anything illicit without proof!"

"Fuckin' lyin' lawyers," Arobynn growled, anger flaring in his posture.

Slowly, Dorian backed away from Arobynn, careful not to say anything lest he set off the drunk man's rage. Just as slowly, a few others approached Arobynn, gingerly offering to make him another drink, to get him some water, anything to defuse the situation.

"Don't fucking offer me water, you cock!" Arobynn snarled, whirling sharply about to rage at Darrow, who'd made that offer.

CRASH!

In his clumsy turnaround, Arobynn smashed the bottle of Scotch against the bar top, littering shards of broken glass atop the bar and leaving him with a broken bottle top clutched in his hand.

"Mr. Hamel--"

As if realizing he now held a weapon, Arobynn brandished the broken bottle at Darrow, all semblance of sanity drained out of his wild eyes. "Fuck off, Darrow."

"Arobynn." Aelin broke into the tense standoff, matching the drunk man's crazed look with her steel will. "Put down the bottle, gods dammit!"

"Don't tell me what to do, bitch," Arobynn snarled.

Aelin's glare intensified. "You want your new warehouse, don't you?"

A brief, charged moment of silence.

"Bitch," Arobynn hissed, but he released the bottle.

CRASH. It shattered all over the floor, shards splintering up into the air and clinking in discordant symphony against the polished marble flooring.

Aelin winced as something bumped into her stomach--probably just a stray elbow as everyone around Arobynn collectively rushed backwards, out of range of the glass. Behind her back, she gave the prearranged signal to her parents, clasping her fingers together.

Call security.

The building's security personnel were in the room only minutes later, swiftly and efficiently subduing Arobynn and escorting him out, most likely to spend a night in the loving embrace of the Orynth Police Department.

"Everyone all right?" Aelin asked, brushing her hands against her gown, feeling the oddest sticky-wet sensation. Huh. Probably liquor from the mess.

Nods and murmurs of "yes, I'm okay," rippled through the guests.

Until Dorian gasped sharply, his sapphire gaze trained on Aelin's stomach. "Fuck!"

"What?" She glanced down at her gown, wondering what the hell had gotten into her friend.

And gasping, the color draining from her face.

Apparently, it hadn't been an elbow bumping into her, but a stray shard of broken glass.

Her breath breaking, shuddering, Aelin touched her fingertips to the warmth spreading over her stomach and pulled them away slowly, almost unable to believe the dripping crimson stain. Blood, some faraway part of her brain realized. My blood.

And as her legs quavered and failed beneath her, Aelin Whitethorn Galathynius could only form one thought. Her eyes shot across the room to a lock onto the pine green gaze latched onto her, her heart constricting at the sheer depth of shock and pain etched into her husband's eyes.

“Rowan…”

The only thing she could think, the only thing keeping her rooted to the ground as she splayed one hand over her stomach, over the thick dark pool of blood welling there, the scarlet stain seeping into the fine silk of her evening gown.

“Rowan….I’m pregnant.”

And then everything went black.

~

Aelin blinked awake slowly, like she was rising up from a bath of molasses, her head fuzzy and disoriented. Slowly, the room around her came into focus--an IV coiling out of her arm, the steady beep of machines tracking her heart rate and pulse and oxygen level, the slightly uncomfortable bed, the cotton fabric against her skin, the firm warm pressure of Rowan's hand in hers.

She was in the hospital.

"Rowan," she croaked, her voice a bare rasp, turning her head to meet his broken gaze. "Ro..."

"You're going to be okay, Fireheart," he rasped, not bothering to try and mask the tears choking his face, his voice.

Ignoring the agony that sliced through her whole self, she gripped his hand and swung herself out of the bed, suddenly desperate, flattening her other hand atop her stomach. "Our baby, Rowan," she gasped.

Her husband's veneer of calmness cracked, splitting down the seams, and his shoulders heaved with a choked sob. "They--Aelin, they said you--miscarried." He could barely get the last words out.

"No." She shook her head, dropped his hand, wrapped her arms around her middle reactively, protectively. Her whole body screaming with the effort, with the pain, she took one searing step after another until she reached the mirror over the sink and stared into her pale, shell-shocked reflection.

Familiar heat bloomed at her stomach, her disoriented stumbling having torn her stitches, letting the deathly rose of her blood bloom across her abdomen. The blood seeped through the bandages, through the thin cotton hospital gown, soaking her hands with the heat of her own life.

Words failing her, Aelin stared at herself in the mirror, captivated and horrified by the broken, bleeding woman who stared back, a chasm of unspeakable pain yawning in her eyes.

And as the nurses who'd come rushing when Rowan pressed the call button caught her, murmuring soothing words into her ear, and injected something that slowed her pulse to drugged sleep into her IV drip, Aelin tilted her head back and released a scream that clawed up and out of her throat from the shattered coffin of her womb.

They can't take my child. The last thing she remembered thinking before the pull of the sedative claimed her.

They will never take my child.

~~~

A/N: if you thought bit at the end resembled Rhaenyra in HOTD no it didn't ;))

~~~

TAGS (please lmk if you want to be added/removed!)

@charlizeed

@cretaceous-therapod

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@nerdperson524

@fireheartwhitethorn4ever

@morganofthewildfire

@rowanaelinn

@wesupremeginger

@stardelia

@shanias-world

@mybloodrunsblue

@swankii-art-teacher

@wordsafterhours

@cookiemonsterwholovesbooks

@violet-mermaid7

@holdthefrickup

@goddess-aelin

@rowaelinismyotp

@dealfea

@irondork

@elentiyawhitethorn

@live-the-fangirl-life

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@chronicchthonic14

@lovely-dove-zee

@sweet-but-stormy

@hanging-from-a-cliff

@jorjy-jo

@rowaelinrambling

@thegreyj

@silentquartz

@backtobl4ck

@throneofus7

@elizarikaallen

@llyncooljones

@booknerdproblems

@julemmaes

@earthtolinds

[storiesforallfandoms]

oh captain ~ jack sparrow;pirates of the caribbean

word count: 2488

request?: yes!

“Can you do a Captain Jack Sparrow smut where the reader has a kink of calling Jack her captain”

description: in which she loves to call him her captain, even in the most intimate of situations

pairing: jack sparrow x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut

masterlist

It all started as a joke.

I came aboard the Black Pearl in search of my sister, Elizabeth Swann, and her secret lover, Will Turner. It was no secret that they were travelling with notorious Captain Jack Sparrow and, although my parents did not exactly like Will Turner, they had sent me as a way to tell Elizabeth that they were giving her their blessing to marry Will.

Of course, the moment I - a single, young maiden that had often been described as “beautiful” by my suitors - stepped on to the ship, the captain himself couldn’t keep his eyes off of me. There was many a moment in which Elizabeth had to actually tell Jack that he was being too forward or too crass with me. I liked to play along with his games as well and would tease him back. My favorite way of teasing him was to call him “Captain” in a sarcastic manner.

The first time I said it was in response to Jack’s very bossy tone as he told Elizabeth and I to do something. “Oh, of course, Captain.”

I could see a fire light in his eyes even then as he looked at me. “What did you say?”

“Well, you insist that we on the boat here refer to you as your supposed title,” I had told him. “I was just saying it. I thought you would like that.”

“The way you said it,” he pointed out. “It wasn’t very...crewman like.”

“Oh, my apologies, Captain.”

The fire ignited in his eyes again, but he decided to leave it be this time and to go on to yell commands at his other crewmates.

That’s how it all started. It was just a joke, a way to poke fun at Jack without being too harsh. I used the nickname almost every time I saw him, and almost every time I could see a look on his face that was hard to understand.

That was, until I found myself bent over his desk moaning the original teasing nickname repeatedly.

I never expected to find myself falling for Captain Jack Sparrow. Elizabeth had told me many a story about his attempts at courting beautiful maidens, including herself despite her love for Will. The stories led me to believing that Jack was just a man who wanted to use then leave a woman. I wrote him off as nothing more than a scoundrel, a pirate captain. Oh, what a fool I was.

No one on the ship knew of our love affair, especially not Elizabeth. I loved my sister dearly and I knew she would never judge me for who I had fallen in love with, however I also knew she couldn’t keep a secret from our parents for the life of her, and the last thing I needed was to break my parents hearts by telling them that their youngest daughter had fallen in love with a pirate.

That’s why I continued to use the teasing nickname in such fashion in front of my sister, but every time I used it, I could see that spark of desire in Jack’s eyes.

There was one day that we were on course for some sort of treasure that Jack was dying to find.

“It’s been lost for hundreds of years,” he was explaining to Will. Elizabeth and I were trying to help some of the crewmen and overheard the conversation that both men were refusing to tell us. “Wealth and riches beyond your wildest dreams. You could buy over Elizabeth’s parents with that sort of money.”

“I don’t think anything could buy over Elizabeth’s parents at this rate,” Will joked. “But do you really believe it to be truth? I’ve heard it’s nothing but a - ”

“A pirate’s tale,” Jack finished. “A way to lead pirates to their deaths? I’ve heard those stories, too. But there’s only one way to find out.”

“Mad man is going to get us killed,” Elizabeth whispered to me. “He only cares for the riches he may get, he doesn’t think of the countless lives he’s risking.”

“Of course he doesn’t,” I responded. “Anything that will shower him in gold and recognition is his top priority.”

“What are you two talking about down there?” Jack called from his perch at the steering wheel.

Elizabeth and I shared a teasing glance before Elizabeth responded, “Just about how smart you are, my dear captain! This journey can only go right!”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the obvious sarcasm in Elizabeth’s voice before his eyes landed on me.

“We were discussing how much recognition you will get once you find this totally real treasure you’re looking for,” I said. I paused a moment before giving Jack a brief smirk as I added, “Captain.”

He shuffled a little, trying to make his lust seem like he was just annoyed with me and Elizabeth. I couldn’t help but smirk triumphantly at him before turning back to Elizabeth, who was also giggling.

“You both doubt me,” he finally said after a long stretch of silence, “but I’ll show you both, and this whole boat, that I am right and this treasure is real.”

He came down from his perch and walked into the room that was designated as “his office”, his eyes meeting mine for a split moment. “I’m going to study the map for some time, please do not disturb me.”

What he really meant was, No one else come disturb me, I will be fucking (Y/N)’s brains out.

I felt myself becoming tingly between my legs, a regular sensation that Jack was able to get out of me. I tried to keep a light look on my face, but it was hard to do so when all I wanted was to follow him into that room.

“You two should be kinder to him,” Will said, although he, too, was laughing. “He’s been kind enough to let us travel with him.”

“After trying to get under mine and (Y/N)’s skirts for a few months,” Elizabeth added. “He knows that we like him and that we are grateful for him. It’s just so easy to tease him sometimes.”

Tell me about it, I thought to myself.

“Maybe we should leave the captain alone to his mapping for a while,” Will said, wrapping an arm around Elizabeth’s waist. It was his only silent way of asking Elizabeth for what Jack was trying to get from me.

“Perhaps we should,” she responded and gave her husband to be a light kiss on his lips.

The two left without another word to me, which was alright by me. It meant that I didn’t have to make up an excuse as to why I was “disturbing” Jack when he asked me not to.

Once I was sure they were too busy with one another to notice me, I turned and raced for the door. I hastily did mine and Jack’s secret knock before shoving the door open. I was shocked to see that the room before me was empty - the desk where Jack usually sat waiting for me was empty, and there was almost no sight of him at all.

Before I could even consider why this had happened, the door slammed behind me and I felt someone take hold of my throat and shove me against the closed door. Jack’s lips met mine and I felt the familiar explosive feeling I had whenever we kissed. His hands were already roughly pulling at my skirt, trying to pull it up around my hips.

“Someone is impatient,” I breathed against his lips. “You told everyone not to disturb you, remember? You don’t have to be so fast and so rough.”

“But if I take you quickly once, I can take you again before anyone notices that we’re even gone.”

His dirty words ignited a fire in me. I giggled as he picked me up in his arms and laid me down on his desk. The poor thing had seen more of our action than any actual work that Jack had ever done. I was surprised that it was still standing after all this time.

I took hold of the back of Jack’s neck and pulled him in for another kiss. Our lips moved so perfectly with one another as his hands trailed up my bare legs, his cold rings leaving shivers where they trailed. I pulled at his pants, trying desperately to get them off. He chuckled against my lips, the vibrations running through my entire body.

“Who is the impatient one now?” he asked.

“Not like the great Captain to leave a girl waiting in her desire,” I teased, hoping the nickname would be used to my advantage.

Lucky for me, I knew that was the one thing that could break Jack. He roughly pulled at the strings around the back of my dress, causing it to loosen and fall off my body completely. Once my dress was a heap on the floor, Jack pushed me onto the desk so I was laying on my back. I watched as he undid his pants and pulled them down just far enough for his hard member to pop free. Just seeing how hard he was from the little amount of teasing we had been doing was enough to make me start dripping in anticipation.

I gasped as I felt him pushing himself into me. No matter how many times we had sex, I still continued to be shocked by how big he was. He made my eyes roll into the back of my head just by filling me with his hard cock.

His hand found my hair and he roughly pulled me up so my body was pressed against his. “What’s my name, love?”

“Captain,” I breathed, dying to move my hips against his to get some sort of friction between us. But I knew that would only result in him punishing me for being naughty.

My response earned me a few slow thrusts. I bit my lip as to not moan too loud, but it was hard to keep quiet during one of our rendezvous. They were often few and far between, leaving the two of us very pent up and needing of release when the time came.

“Say it again for me my pet,” he purred.

“Captain,” I moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist to pull him as closely as I could. “Oh, Captain.”

The grip he had on my hair tightened as he began to thrust into me more, now going at a quicker and more steady pace. I pressed my lips to his to try and muffle my moans, which were now starting to become loud enough for anyone who would be passing by to hear.

I moaned out the name a few more times, which led to me being laid back over the desk yet again with Jack leaning over me, his thrusts so rough now that the desk was being moved. I arched my back against him, trying to get him as far into me as he could go. One of his hands was gripping my thigh while the other was wrapped around my throat, pressing slightly against the sides every now and then, and causing me to feel lightheaded.

Jack was always able to hit a spot in me that made my brain turn to mush and my eyes roll back into my head. I could barley think straight when he was pounding that spot relentlessly inside of me, especially at that moment when the only thing I could feel was waves of pleasure rippling through my body.

I managed to pull my thoughts together enough to utter out a sentence, “I’m so close, Captain.”

“Let me feel you come undone around me, my pet,” he said. I could feel him twitching inside of me, indicating that he was close to finishing himself.

My fingers curled into the desk as I felt myself hitting my climax. My entire body seemed to curl in some way as I felt myself contracting around Jack. His hands slipped under my arched back, pulling my body up to press against him as he did his final thrusts and finished inside of me.

The aftermath of our love making rarely lasted long in fear of being caught. Jack held me for a short amount of time, kissing the top of my head and whispering sweet nothings into my ear, before he finally had to pull away from me and begin to redress himself. I pulled my dress back up.

“You mind tying me back up?” I asked him, turning around to present my still bare back to him.

He laced the strings through their proper holes and tied it tight enough that it would stay up, but not too tight to cause discomfort.

“Do you really think you’ll find that treasure you’re on route for?” I asked him once he was finished. “Do you think it’s real?”

“I choose to believe every treasure is real until proven otherwise,” he responded. “I know everyone on the ship thinks that I’m leading us to our deaths, but I truly believe there is something waiting for us at our destination.”

“Well, if you believe it then I believe you,” I said. “What do you plan on doing with your riches once you get them?”

“I’ll share them amongst the crew,” he started. “There’s supposedly enough to keep a dozen men from having to work for the rest of their lives, and I have just a little over a dozen men on this ship. What I keep for myself I’m going to use to get a better ship. The old Black Pearl is starting to see her end I’m afraid. And, with whatever is left, I intend to buy you a rock so big and so stunning that any royal woman would be jealous of it.”

He lifted my hand to his lips and gave my knuckles a soft kiss.

“You intend to marry me?” I asked him.

“Of course I do. Why do you seem shocked to hear that?”

I chuckled. “Well, the stories I’ve heard about the great Captain Jack Sparrow, none of them made it sound like he would ever settle down with a woman.”

Jack smiled and wrapped his arms around my waist, looking lovingly into my eyes. I could get lost staring into those beautiful eyes of his.

“A man must know when the right woman has come along,” he told me. “Especially a pirate. And the moment you stepped foot on my ship, I knew you were the right woman.”

“You sweet talker,” I said before pressing my lips to his. “When you do get me that ring, just know that I will say yes.”

“Of course, my love. And I cannot wait to have you to sail the seas with for the rest of my life.”

[myherowritings]

PART 3. ACCIDENTAL SUGAR DADDY?

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.4k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. happy new year y’all! :3 i hope you have a good 2021 and here is some flirty ceo!shouto for u to enjoy as we enter the new year hehe ;) thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

“I heard you dropped by this weekend,” you said as a greeting, a playful smile on your lips. “Looking for me?”

If the tips of his ears didn’t tinge pink, you would have guessed Shouto was completely unaffected by your words. 

“Mn.” He drew his attention away from your gaze and pointedly adjusted his cufflinks. “Good morning to you too.” 

You laughed, accepting you wouldn’t get anything out of your attempt at teasing. “Morning, Shouto. How was your weekend?” 

The cafe was quite busy this hour, but Miyazaki took over the other register to alleviate the stress (though, what she really said was so you and pretty boy—who happened to be rich rich—could talk). Whatever the reason, you were glad for a small break whenever you could get it.

“You could say it was busy,” he replied, sounding a bit tired. For the first time since you met him, you actually noticed how exhausted he looked. You wanted to put cucumbers on his eyes and lay his head down on your lap to coax him to sleep. Nonetheless, he smiled softly at you. “And yours? I hope you were able to have time to rest and relax.”

You nodded. “I just slept a lot and caught up on the shows I missed throughout the week.”

“The real way a weekend should be spent.” 

His voice was teasing but he didn’t sound mocking. Just...somewhat playful. There was something about his tone that made you want to hear it again.

“Something tells me you need a weekend away where you could just relax and do nothing,” you commented, tapping the back of your pen to your chin. “Do you not have any days off at work?” 

He considered this. “Depends what you mean by day off.” 

“If you have to ask that, that probably means you don’t have a day off, huh?” you said with a frown, holding your hand over your chest as you sighed dramatically. “You poor thing. Overworked and tired. Maybe I should steal you away one weekend and get you to just relax.” 

You were only half-serious.

“Maybe you should,” agreed Shouto, sounding full-serious.

“Maybe I will,” you blurted before you could stop yourself. Maybe you could if you actually had his number… Then, feeling shameful you said, “But, ah, anyway, what can I get for you today? We actually have cheese danishes again!”

His face brightened. “You do? I’ll take five dozen.”

With a laugh you took down his order. You really weren’t sure where all these pastries were going when he bought it, but judging from his expression, you figured it must be somewhere good. 

“And for your drink?”

“This time I’ll have a large green tea with almond milk, please.” 

You nodded but tilted your head to the side in question. “No coffee with extra shots of espresso today?” 

“I add too much sugar and creamer to my coffee,” he admitted sheepishly. “And with all the baked goods I’ve been eating I realized I may have had an excess amount of sweets lately.” 

With an understanding laugh you patted his hand that was resting on the counter woefully. “I can definitely relate to that. If too many sweets are bad for you they shouldn’t have made it taste so good.”

Shouto glanced down at where your hands touched, an expression you couldn’t quite discern on his face. Averting your gaze, you quickly pulled your hand back. Was that inappropriate of you? Did he find it too pushy?

“Oh— Sorry about that,” you said, rubbing your elbow with your opposite hand. “Got a bit ahead of myself there.”

“No, it’s fine.” He blinked once. “I didn’t mind.”

Unsure if he meant anything by that and unsure if you were reading too much into things, you simply brushed the topic off and moved on to getting his order in telling him the price. 

“Paying by card again, I’m assuming?” you asked before hitting the appropriate button on the screen.

“Correct.”

By now the sight of the sleek and pretty credit card was one you grew rather fond of as he scanned over the payment terminal and signed his name. Was it weird you wanted to examine his signature more closely? Shouto seemed like the type of person who would have a fancy signature that somehow looked like art. 

As per routine, you told him his order would be ready for pick up at his right and, before he left the register, he thanked you and gave you another $100. 

Did it feel any less strange than the first time he tipped you? Not really, no. But you still weren’t going to complain about a generous tip from a willing customer.

Before he left with his cheese danishes and cup of tea in hand, he stopped by next to you with a small smile. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.”

You grinned back. “Can’t wait, Shouto!” 

— ✩ —

This went on for a whole other week. By this point, he had given you over $1,000 in tip and you were starting to feel like you should give him something in return despite him assuring you he didn’t expect anything. 

When you told your friends about the nice guy you met while you were working and they asked for the details, the first thing they said in response to your situation was, “Sugar daddy?” 

Before they planted that thought into your head, you just took it as a rich businessman who hated the rich and believed in redistribution of wealth—you couldn’t complain about that. That made him even more appealing, if you must say. But once Kaminari and Ashido whispered those two words, you couldn’t help but see the comparisons. 

You had no issues with sugar daddies or sugar babies; as long as they were two consenting adults, what did it matter to you? It just wasn’t something you were looking for at the time and you didn’t want Shouto to get the wrong impression or involve yourself in something you weren’t ready to. 

As you commuted to work for your next morning shift, you told yourself today was the day you’d thank him one final time for the tips, but tell him you couldn’t accept anymore. You were sure he’d be understanding but you also hoped it wouldn’t deter him from coming to see you. That was the last thing you’d want. 

“Mrs. Miyazaki,” you said between customers. “When Shouto comes in, do you think I can step away from the register to talk to him for a little? I promise it’ll be brief!”

She waved her hand dismissively. “That’s not a problem. Are you finally going to ask him out or something?”

You scratched the back of your neck. “Or something, yeah.” 

Thankfully, by the time Shouto arrived today, it was later than he normally came, meaning rush hour was almost dying down. 

“Good morning! Someone’s a little late today,” you teased. “Overslept?” 

“I wish,” he sighed wistfully. “I had a meeting early this morning and it just ended. Didn’t have a chance to pick up some coffee or pastries beforehand.” 

You frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope whoever was hosting the meeting at least provided you guys drinks and snacks!” 

He paused. “He did, but… I just thought yours were better.” 

Smiling at the compliment, you preened. “Well, I can’t say I’m not surprised. And I’m glad you were able to drop by still. Would’ve missed you too much otherwise.”

Again, you were only half-serious.

“Hm. I would’ve missed you too.”

And again, he seemed full-serious. Not that you minded. 

After taking his order and watching him pay, you pulled him to the side, looking over at your boss so she knew what was going on. She gave you a brief nod as you turned your attention to Shouto. 

A lapse of silence went by and he spoke up, “Did you have something you wanted to say?” 

“Yeah, actually.” You wrung your fingers nervously, hoping you wouldn’t say anything to offend him since you knew his actions were coming from a kind place. “I just wanted to say… I’m not really looking for a sugar daddy right now.”

He blinked once. Then twice. “Pardon?” 

You stared at him, unsure what to say. 

“I— Sorry. I wasn’t… It’s not my intention to be a...sugar daddy either.” Shouto’s face flushed a bright pink that made your own cheeks warm up in response. 

“But the—the money? I just… I guess I thought…” You winced.

So he wasn’t trying to pick up a sugar baby… Well, this was awkward. But regardless, you think you’ve gotten close enough to him to the point where it would feel weird accepting money from him. 

“I’m sorry if I was unclear. It really is just a tip to show appreciation for your service here.” 

You shook your head. “No! Sorry, that makes sense! My friends just said… And then I…” you trailed off, feeling a million times more flustered than when you started. “Sorry about that. The sugar daddy mishap aside, I still wanted to say that I really appreciate the tips you gave, but I don’t think I can accept them anymore.” 

Slowly, he nodded, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt. “I understand. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened!” you were quick to assure. “I really am thankful, but… I think we’ve gotten too close for me to be comfortable accepting that much money, you know?”

Shouto tilted his head to the side, listening intently. 

“Like,” you tried to explain, fiddling with your apron, “over the past few weeks I just think we’ve gotten to know each other more and I think of you as a friend of sorts now.” You peered at him through your lashes, hoping your words were making sense. “I think as a relationship develops—for me, at least—adding money into the mix can cause weird power imbalances if not communicated properly. And I just don’t want that for us.” 

He thought through your words for a while before agreeing. “I get what you mean. I wouldn’t want to unintentionally make you feel like you owe me anything, so if you’re not comfortable with it, I can stop.” 

“Thanks, Shouto,” you said with a beam, glad he was so receptive. Really though, what else did you expect? From your interactions with him you took him to be kindhearted and open. Of course he wouldn’t be upset over this. “But just to be clear, this doesn’t mean you should stop coming! Right? I don’t want to stop being your friend or anything!” 

With a small laugh, he nodded. “Sure. I wouldn’t want to part with my favorite cafe. And I’d like to keep being friends as well.”

Those words warmed your heart. You really were nervous about this confrontation earlier; you didn’t want voicing your opinion to mean ending your friendship. (Although, if you sharing what you were comfortable with was enough to end a relationship, then you supposed it was bound to be a toxic and stifling one in the long run and it was good to know in the beginning to end it before it could grow.) Turns out, however, that you didn’t even need to worry about that. He was understanding and sweet and you were glad to have gotten this out of the way.

“Well, as new friends,” you said, gently nudging his side, “maybe we should get to know each other more? Exchange numbers… Hang out outside of this cafe…” You ran through some suggestions, almost bouncing on your feet in excitement. “I mean, I know you’re always so busy and might not have much free time to hang out. But— If you’re ever free one weekend…” 

“I’d enjoy that,” he cut in, saving you from blabbering your mouth off and accidentally embarrassing yourself. “Didn’t you say you’d steal me away from work to relax? I’m still holding you to that.” 

The beginnings of a smirk formed on his face as he looked at your flustered expression. Was he teasing you?

You huffed, pretending to be insulted by his playful mocking. “Guess I’ll really have to do it then.” 

“Guess so.”

“Maybe you should give me your number first so we could plan it.” 

“Okay.”

He handed you his phone and you handed him yours, both of your adding your numbers to the contact list. Smiling, you held the phone in front of the two of you to take a contact picture of yourself for Shouto’s phone. To your complete surprise, he laughed before promptly following suit and taking a selfie for his contact image. 

“Cute,” you said when he handed you back your phone. 

“You too.” 

Placing your device back in your pocket, you looked at him, hand on hip. “Since when did you become such a smooth-talker? Am I going to have to guard my heart now?” 

His only response was a shrug, but you could see hints of a smile playing on his face. The two of you seemed to be smiling a lot lately, you couldn’t help but notice. 

“I should probably let you go to work now—and I should go back to mine.” You gestured to the growing line at the front of the store. Your manager looked like she had things under control, but you didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness. “You should text me later though. If you want.”

“I’ll do that,” Shouto promised, picking up his drink and pastry boxes from the side counter. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N. And… I’ll message you soon.” 

As you watched him leave the store, you were certain you had a silly look on your face as you stared in a trance. 

“I’ll turn my phone off silent just for you!” you said to his back, hoping he understood what a momentous occasion this was. Your phone was always on silent (unless you were playing a game, of course). But for Shouto, you could handle hearing the obnoxious ringtone and text tone. 

With an amused expression he nodded before waving goodbye.

Later on that day, at the end of your shift, you noticed a new message from a certain someone that made your stomach flutter.

Shouto: Hi there. It’s Shouto :)

You never knew those four simple words would be enough to keep the grin plastered on your face up until the moment your head hit your pillow to fall asleep. But, damn— Were you glad that happened to be the case. 

a/n: whY WAS SHOUTO AND Y/N EXCHANGING NUMBERS SO CUTE idk that scene got me all blushy and :DDD HFJDKSF like taking a selfie with shouto and getting his number? only goal in life BFHFGF,, also y/n said no more tips how we feeling? ;o 

what to expect in the next part:

an unwanted visitor ಥ_ಥ

shouto has a...proposition for y/n 

FLIRTING FLUFF SO MUCH CUTENESS U MIGHT CRY

y/n struggles with their fEeLiNGs~

[jae-daddy]

Duff (11)

im jaebum au series 

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine / ten / eleven / twelve masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader  genre: angst, mature, smut  plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: it’s been a while, my bad. but the next chapter is going to spicyyyyyyyy. not edited, hope yall enjoy it <3 stay safe out there <3

Your jaw dropped as the driver drove through the gates and up the long driveway to Park Jinyoung’s mansion. You knew he was rich, but you didn’t know he was this rich. But even more than the vast wealth the Parks had, you were more taken by the decorations that started from the gate all the way up to the main entrance. 

You turned towards Jaebum who was watching you already. You felt the golden glow of the lights outside flow into the unlit car, and somehow you could see something glint in his dark eyes. 

“It’s so beautiful, isn’t it Mr Kim?” you looked out the window again, to see the sparkling lights making a rendition of Van Gough’s starry night. You smiled to yourself a bit, “It might be a bit cliche and basic, but starry night is my favourite piece of artwork.” 

The driver hummed in reply, saying something about taking a picture for his daughter.

Jaebum didn’t reply, and you didn’t mind. Him and you weren’t exactly on friendly speaking terms, well at least not in your books. 

Since that day in the office, Jaebum had tried to talk to you numerous of times, but you avoided him. You didn’t want to hear his empty apologies or empty excuses or empty flirty, or whatever meaningless, empty words he wanted to say to you because he was feeling bored. 

You didn’t even think he would pick you up today, but when you called up your driver, Jaebum had pulled up in his sleek black car. It was a moment that you seen in movies, where the male lead sees the female lead with her makeover for the first time, and he’s blown away. 

But Im Jaebum wasn’t blown away. He wasn’t even fazed, if anything he found you so unappealing that he couldn’t bear to look at you for more than two seconds without looking away in pain. 

Was he always such an asshole?

He probably was, but back then he was trying to charm you with his sweet words. Maybe, he was a sicko who liked girls who weren’t into him, and as soon as you showed him any interest he vanished into the night. 

The car stopped at the red carpet laid out at the entrance, and you began to check your outfit and lipstick for the last time before reaching for the door. Your hand was reaching for the handle when the door swung open, and a hand reached in for you. 

You placed your hand in theirs, and carefully got out of the car. 

You stepped out to find yourself chest to chest with Jaebum. His fingers gripping onto your fingers as you stared up at him. 

You cleared your throat and began taking a step away from him, when he reached out and pulled your body against his by your waist. Your hands laid flat against his chest, the black material feeling rich on your skin. HIs dark eyes drifted to your lips, before they looked away purposefully. 

You turned around to find the car driving off behind you that you were about to bump into. You looked up at Jaebum, your cheeks tainting pink, “Thanks.” 

“Watch where you’re going,” was all he replied, as he let you go. 

Your heart once again sank at the lack of endearment, but you ignored it and adjusted the dress before you began following Jaebum into the mansion. 

Jaebum was instantly surrounded by people. People lining up around him, trying to play it off as they waited for their turns for introductions. You were right next to Jaebum, introducing him to everyone. 

The first hour was spent just like that, making introductions and standing next to Jaebum and pretending like you were invisible. The other important people only gave you a passing glance before looking away, no one stared for too long. You weren’t worth their time. 

You didn’t mind though. 

You enjoyed the architecture of the building and the artworks hanging around the hall. This must have really been a castle at some point you concluded after an hour of staring at the walls. You wondered which kind of ruler lived here before, but you knew for certain whoever it was wasn’t a good person; no in power ever is. 

Jaebum and you had drifted away about fifteen minutes ago, but you kept an eye out for him. He was currently taking to Paul from work, so you thought he was in safe hands. You took another mini-sausage roll before washing it down with another glass of expensive champagne. 

You didn’t like that taste even though it was exquisite. All it did was remind you of the night Jinyoung engaged to that woman in front of you, after telling you he loved you a few hours ago. 

“I finally found you,” a deep voice spoke behind you. His voice fell over you like velvet, and you struggled to breath. 

You turned around, already annoyed, “What are you doing here, Jinyoung?”

“You’re casual and feisty today,” he chucked, moving to stand next to you. He picked up a mini-sausage and popped it into his mouth, before waving a hand around, “This is my party, incase you’ve forgotten, y/n.” 

You snorted, “How can I forget with this champagne? Tell me, was this your favourite before you chose her or did it happen after?” 

“Woah,” Jinyoung tried to take the glass from you, but you moved it out of his reach, “How many of those have you had?”

“None of your business,” you gave him a straight smile. “None of these people are drinking anything anyway. And I needed a drink, it’s just been so hard lately.” 

You leaned your head on his shoulder, but straightened your spine right away, “I’m not drunk, Jinyoung. I just don’t have the energy to fight or pretend, at least not with you, not tonight.” 

“I don’t know if that is a compliment or not,” Jinyoung clicked his tongue, playfully. “I kind of like it when you fight with me.” 

“God, you’re such a perv, Jinyoung,” you groaned, and he laughed. 

“Come on,” he said, holding out his hand and gesturing to the dance floor. “Dance with me?” 

“No, thanks.”

“Why not?” 

“Are you sure you want to dance with me?” You asked him, with a knowing look. “I know this is a party, but I am still just an assistant here. Are you sure your reputation won’t hurt from dancing with someone like me? I’m not made of money like you, Jinyoung.” 

“Beauty and wealth are both welcomed here, y/n,” Jinyoung took your hand in his, “And you have a wealth of beauty, my dear.” 

He brought your hand to his face, his lips brushing over your knuckles. 

“Oh, right,” you chuckled, your heart sinking slightly. “You think I am pretty.”

Your gaze went to Im Jaebum who didn’t spare you a single glance. Your eyes fell on the girl he was talking to, and you couldn’t help but notice how different she was to you. You couldn’t but notice how different Jaebum looked talking to her; kind and well-mannered. 

“I’ve always found you beautiful, y/n,” Jinyoung said, drawing your attention back to him. “That’s why I was drawn to you in the beginning, and when I got to know you... well, I guess that was the end of me.” 

You laughed lightly as you placed your hand on his shoulder, and the other in his hand. His hands rested on the curve of your clothed hip. 

“But today,” he smiled at you, “You looked absolutely gorgeous.”

“Don’t exaggerate, Jinyoung. If you were so taken by me,” you laughed, teasingly, giving him a look. You continued your words turning sour, “You would’ve chosen me.” 

“You know how things were back then, y/n,” Jinyoung sighed, he closed his eyes to take a deep breath. He opened them to stare into yours with so much emotion, you couldn’t breathe. 

“I looked for you, you know,” he spoke over the music. You couldn’t blink or breath as you stared at Jinyoung. His brows creased as if he was rethinking a painful event. “After I decided to end the engagement... after I broke it off, I looked for you. I searched for you, but I couldn’t find you anywhere.” 

“I- I went back home,” you whispered. You saw yourself laying in a pool of your vomit and urine, and your mother and father crying around your limp body. “I couldn’t stay here. Everyone was talking about you... it was too much.” 

“Y/n,” Jinyoung said, softly. You looked up to meet his gaze. “It’s nice to have you back. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

“Jinyoung-” 

“May I cut in?” 

“Always interrupting us, isn’t he, y/n?” 

You turned to find Jaebum glaring holes into Jinyoung’s head. 

“What if I say no?” Jinyoung pouted, teasingly. Jaebum sighed, his patience running thin. You looked around to see people already turning this way. 

“Stop it,” you gritted through your teeth at the both of the them, your lips holding a smile. “People are starting to look.” 

“I’ll dance with him for a bit,” you smiled at Jinyoung, “Thank you Jinyoung.” 

Jinyoung smiled back at you before giving you a cheeky wink. You chuckled watching him walk away. 

“You both seem closer than last time,” Jaebum said from behind you. You shrugged stepping closer to him placing a hand on his shoulder and the other in his hand. You were holding Jinyoung the same way a few moments ago, but somehow this felt different. 

The soft velvet of his jacket, the heat of his skin, the short hair tickling your fingertips at the nape of his neck. It was all somehow more intense, more intimate. 

Jaebum’s warm hands wrapped around yours as he took another step closer towards you. HIs other hand rested on your waist, pulling you in closer as it rested on the small of your back. His thumb caressed the exposed skin from your dress and you drew in a sharp breath. 

You didn’t say anything as you looked up at him. His dark eyes bore into yours, his lips drawn and tight. His jaw clenched and sharp, his black eyelashes gently fluttering across his cheekbones. 

He was beautiful. 

He was a sin in this all black suit made to precision for him. His hair was styled in-between completely swept back and lazy natural. His lips were rosy pink, and even without his lip-ring you wanted to taste them between your lips. 

You leaned closer to him. HIs thumb gently caressing your back, electricity dancing up your spine making your head spin. You welcomed his minty breath falling over your lips, as your eyes fell to his lips. And to his neck, watching as he swallowed nervously. Your gaze fluttered up to meet his eyes fixed on your face. 

You looked away from him feeling your cheeks flush, “Are you having a good time tonight, sir?” 

Jaebum only hummed in reply, his dark eyes still trained on you. 

Your eyes met his intense gaze for a moment before looking away instantly, “It’s a beautiful place, isn’t it?” 

“Yes, it is,” Jaebum said. You didn’t say anything more and bit your lip wondering if you should continue to dance with him or excuse yourself. 

You looked up at Jaebum, your hands letting go off him. 

Jaebum’s hand held yours tighter as he pulled you in closer by your waist. Your front was completely pressed against him now, and your body shivered as he leaned his lips close to your ear. 

You felt his warm breath caress the slope of your neck, and you closed your eyes letting the feeling sink deep within your bones. 

Jaebum drew his lips higher, his softness brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispered, “Thank you for everything, y/n.” 

You remained like that for a moment. Soaking in his presence, his heat, his touch, his breath, him somewhere deep inside your heart, and then you leaned back. 

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr Im,” you smiled up at him. 

Jaebum stared at you with an unreadable expression as his lips parted. 

“You must be glad you’ll be getting a proper secretary now,” you laughed, but there was no humour between you two. 

“I might not stay.”

“I know,” you nodded, “But if you do, I think it’ll be the biggest win for the company.”

Jaebum might be an asshole, a player; a complete fuckboy. But he was also hardworking, intelligent and gave his all into his work and accomplished a lot within the last three months you were working with him. 

“Loosing you is probably the biggest loss,” he said, pausing for a moment. “For me.” 

“I’m sure there are more qualified then me for this job.” 

“But I only want you, y/n.” 

You breath got caught at his words. Your wide eyes met his that stared at you as if you were the stars and the moon. As if once again you were presented to him as impossible puzzle, and he wanted to get lost in trying to solve you. 

He moved in closer, and lowered your gaze to avoid his heated ones. 

Jaebum lifted his hand from your waist. His fingertips brushed your cheeks with the slightest touch as he whispered, “You look beautiful, y/n.”

“Jaebum, stop it.” You began moving out of his arms, but he pulled you back in. His fingers digging into your waist as he held you steady in front of him. 

“Why?” His fevered breath fell over your face as you looked up at him. His eyes were wild with darkness, but it didn’t scare you. It only made you mad, so terribly horribly mad. 

“Why?” You spat, quietly. Your chest was heaving as you tried to control the anger that had been swelling inside you over the past month. 

“Don’t you think we’re past these little games of yours?” You sneered up at him. Your hand on his shoulder tightened as you tried to control yourself. “We already know I fell for it. Do you wanna see if I’ll fall for it again after being rejected once?” 

Jaebum didn’t say anything so you snorted. The sneer on your dark lips growing as you looked down your nose at him, “I won’t let you lead me on again, only to make a fool of me like that. I’m not going to play this sick game of yours.” 

Jaebum’s fingers bit harder into your waist making you gasp as he pulled you flush against him. HIs nose almost brushed against yours, as he breathed harshly, “A game? You think all of this was a game for me?” 

“What else could it be?” You snickered at him, both your hands flattening on his shoulder, trying to push him away with attracting any attention. But he wouldn’t budge a centimetre. You gritted through your teeth as you glared up at him, “Why else would you pretend to be into me? Play with me like that?”

Play with my feelings like that?

Jaebum’s hands rested on your exposed back as he held you steady against him. His jaw clenched, his eyes furious as he tried to control his breathing. 

“It wasn’t a game for me.” 

You ignored his words. 

“Then what was it?” You bit back. “You made it seem like you felt the same way only to reject me when I-”

“I didn’t reject you,” Jaebum cut you off. 

You began laughing mockingly, and Jaebum shook you slightly to make you look at him.  

You didn’t say anything and looked up at him, your lips parted in surprise. 

“Do you,” Jaebum whispered, leaning in closer to you as he leaned his forehead against yours. His eyes stirring golden as they stared into yours, his fingertips softly dancing on your back, causing fire to dance through your vines. “have any idea how crazy you make me, y/n?” 

Suddenly it was all too much. His touch, the way he was looking at you, the things he was saying. The lights shining down upon you two, the chattering of people around you. It all became to loud too much. Your heart beat loudly in your ear as you took a step away from him. 

Jaebum looked at you, expectantly. You stared him, unable to hear a single bought. The only thing you could hear was your heart beating thumping loudly in your ear. 

Your lips parted, you were going to say something. You weren’t sure what. Jaebum’s gaze fell to your lips, waiting for you to the say the words. You took another step back, not saying a single word. 

The smile on Jaebum’s lips dropped as your brows creased as a sudden panic before settling in your chest. You needed to get away.

“I-” you began. 

“Y/n!” You turned to saw a fury of red first, and then her smiling face as she jumped in front of you. “I didn’t know you were coming here.” 

Heather turned to Jaebum, placing a kiss on his cheek. His eyes remained on you, his face void of any emotions. 

Heather smiled at you, “Go away, JB. I won't let you steal my best friend.” 

// 

You were next to Heather the rest of the night, but your eyes still followed the man in the black suit. His sharp eyes met yours throughout the night, but every time you looked away. 

You were looking at him once again. There was something pleasant about his lips when he talked, and the way those whiskers appeared on his cheeks when he would smile or laugh brightly. You couldn’t look away from him no matter how hard you tried. 

You watched him talk to Park Jinyoung with a frown on his face, that deepened when Jinyoung looked your way and winked. His hard glaze travelled to you, as his lips drew into a straight line. 

You looked away once again, your cheeks on fire. 

“Are you okay?” Heather asked. You looked towards her to find her following your gaze to the pair of males. 

“Mhmm,” you nodded, taking a sip of the champagne.

You watched Heather take a sip too, but you noticed that knowing smile on her lips. 

This was all too dangerous.

[mammonshuman92]

- It Takes Two -

(Mammon x GN!MC)

Genre: angst/hurt/comfort

WARNINGS: alcohol, drunkenness, cheating, **

** There is a moment where a character is drunk, and someone makes moves on them, character is too drunk to realize it’s not who they thought it was. Groping and making out, no penetration; character doesn’t consider is SA. I apologize if it is offensive.

Ya better hurry up, or we’re gonna be late!” Mammon was pulling you by the hand down the hallway to your first class of the day.

“I wasn’t the one who overslept because they kept saying “just lay with me for 5 more minutes.”“ You said, giving your best impression of him.

You’d become best friends rather quickly after your arrival in the Devildom, practically becoming attached at the hip instantly. It didn’t take long for that light, warm feeling to invade your heart. Now you’d been dating for a few months and had become even more inseparable.

“Details, details!” He responded, laughing.

The two of you came barreling through the door with only seconds to spare before the bell rang; hand-in-hand, laughing like fools.

You took your seats across the room from each other, being the professors current punishment for Mammon talking to you during class.

As you sat down you felt eyes on you and looked up.

A few succubi were not so casually looking at you and whispering.

It wasn’t uncommon though. I mean, you are a human in the Devildom. You also live with the 7 rulers of the underworld. You’d gotten quite used to people whispering about you. You decided to ignore them, and pay attention to class. Whatever they were whispering about was surely nothing you hadn’t already heard circulating throughout the gossip mill.

Throughout the day, you noticed the same group of succubi whispering and giving you looks. They even giggled a couple times. You tried your best to keep your cool, but it had been going on all day and it was really getting under your skin.

What is so damn funny? You thought to yourself.

The final bell rang and you couldn’t be happier. Now you got to put the day behind you and go home with Mammon. Tonight is movie night. Cuddling and eating junk food is just what you need after a day like today.

You rushed to the usual spot where you meet Mammon. Seeing his face would definitely make you feel better right now, but he wasn’t there yet. 

He must have gotten hung up in class or something.

You leaned against the wall, pulled out your D.D.D. and started surfing Deviltube to pass the time. You were so engrossed in your video that you barely noticed that same group of succubi walk past.

Until they made sure you noticed them, that is.

One girl bumped into you on purpose, sending your D.D.D. to the concrete, via crash-landing.

“Stupid human.” She sneered.

You rolled your eyes and bent down to pick up your D.D.D. It’s nothing you haven’t heard, quite a bit actually, since coming to the Devildom. She’d have to try a lot harder than that.

When you stood back up, the succubus in question was standing in front of you, arms crossed with a smug grin.

“Do you think you’re special?” She asked, looking you up and down. You didn’t respond and resumed your scrolling through Deviltube. Ignoring her made her mad.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

Excuse me? 

“I don’t think MY relationship is any of your concern.” You said sweetly, slapping on your best fake smile. You looked around them, desperate to see Mammon walking up, but he wasn’t there.

Where is he? 

She was practically laughing in your face. 

“He made me feel special too.” Her words, full of venom as they left her lips, triggered something in your brain.

Flashbacks of your first day in the Devildom came rushing back. Specifically what Satan had said after Mammon made his grand entrance.

“Whenever he takes a liking to someone, they suddenly find themselves awash in money. But from what I hear, if he decides to break it off with someone, that wealth evaporates. They’re left without a Grimm to their name.”

The memory made your chest feel heavy. 

Could that pertain to people as well? They said a pure soul is like a shiny gem. What if..

“Everything he’s said to you, he probably already said to me.” She spat.

Your head was spinning, a knot forming in your throat. Her earlier words replaying in your mind.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

What if..? No.. He wouldn’t do that...would he?

You quickly got so lost in thought as anxiety started to take root, plaguing you with ‘what ifs’ and hypotheticals, that you almost didn’t notice when someone stepped between you and the succubus. Putting a hand on either side of your face, he tilted your head up to look at him. Irises the color of tropical waters, instantly melt away your anxiety, calming the angry sea inside you.

“Let’s go home.” He whispered with a smile. His voice was soft, but you could see the anger in his eyes. He slung an arm around your shoulders and turned to start walking toward the House of Lamentation.

“We weren’t done talking.” She said vindictively.

“Don’t ya have anythin’ better to do?” Mammon snarled, glaring at the succubus.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, leaving with her friends.

By the immense tension you could feel between them, you could tell that they had indeed been together at some point.

The walk home was quiet, which left you with ample time for your thoughts to run wild. 

Did she know him like you do? His little habits and his favorite things? 

Did she stick up for him when his brothers were dogging on him? Or afterward when he was down, did she try her best to drown out their hateful words with affirmations of love?

Did she play with his hair while he laid on her stomach, arms wrapped tight around her middle after he loved her? Hold her in his lap as he rubbed soothing circles on her back when she was sad? Whisper sweet nothings to her when he thought she was asleep?

...Did he love her?

-

“Whoa! Did ya see that, MC?!”

The two of you were curled up on the couch in Mammon’s room, watching a movie on his projector, just like you did every week.

Did they do movie night?

It shouldn’t be bothering you. Of course he’s had other partners. He’s been alive for thousands of years.

And you’ve had other partners. So what? No biggie. That wasn’t the issue.

The thought of him saying the same things, doing the same things with someone else...loving someone else, is what bothered you. It hurt to think that maybe you really weren’t that special; another weak, insignificant human, just like all the rest.

But the things she said kept playing on a loop in your head.

“As soon as he gets tired of you, he’ll move on to the next one.”

“He made me feel special too.”

Could she be right?

“Babe, are ya okay?” He had paused the movie and was now staring at you expectantly.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I’m fine.” He saw through it quickly.

“Ya know, you’re not good at lyin’. What’s wrong? If ya don’t like the movie we can watch someth-”

“That girl earlier, at RAD? Is she your ex?” You didn’t want to bring it up, but you had to know before your thoughts could torment you further.

His face fell and he sighed heavily. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna say somethin’..”

You remained quiet, watching his face, waiting for him to begin talking.

“We were together a long, long, time ago. Nothin’ serious. I broke it off when I realized she was only around for what she could get outta me. She didn’t take it too well.” He explained, his expression turning sour. “She had a different story, huh?”

“She didn’t say much really, except once you get tired of me you’ll move onto the next one. That I’m nothing special because everything you say to me you’ve probably said to her.” You said, keeping your eyes down as you fidget with the hem on your shirt.

He started laughing.

Your head snapped up, looking at him in shock.

“What’s so funny, Mammon?” You asked, getting a little irritated by his reaction. He stopped laughing when he looked at you and realized you were serious.

“Ya don’t actually believe her, do ya?” He scoffed, getting offended.

“No? I don’t know..” You replied, not meeting his gaze. Of course you wanted to believe him, but you already felt like you weren’t good enough for him, and that succubi’s words just watered the seeds of insecurity in your brain and helped them flourish.

You had always been the opposite of his brothers. You always believed Mammon, even when everyone else was against him. You were always on his side. Ready to stick up for him no matter what. To hear you now, was like a slap in the face.

Mammon’s face distorted in pain. And anger.

“What? Whaddya mean ya don’t know?” His voice was soft, “Ya don’t trust me?” He asked, meeting your gaze.

“Mammon, that’s-”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. A few bitter words from some random demon and now my words mean nothin’. “ He jumped up from the couch, making a beeline for the door.

“What about the last few months, huh? After all the time we spent together you think I’d do somethin’ like that to ya?” His voice cracked on the last sentence. He paused; hand on the knob as he stared at the door. You heard a small sniffle as his other hand came up to angrily wipe his face.

“I thought ya knew me better than anyone.” His voice was barely audible, but you could hear the hurt. He felt betrayed.

And with that he left, slamming the door behind him.

When he didn’t come back after an hour and wouldn’t answer your calls, you grabbed a few things and headed to your room. You still felt uneasy about the whole “his ex confronting you” thing and after what had just happened, you just wanted to be alone. 

Your bed seemed huge and your room felt odd. It’s not like you didn’t spend time in there anymore, you just didn’t usually do so alone. The silence was deafening.

I shouldn't have doubted him. He used to try and hide his feelings, although he was bad at it. But since we got together, he doesn’t hide how he feels about us to anyone.

You thought of all the times his cheeks had flushed scarlet when you caught him staring at you. How he sits and endures scary movies because they’re your favorite. The way he will randomly bring you your favorite snacks or other little gifts because he was thinking about you. Relentlessly tickling you just to hear your bright, uninhibited laughter. That even in his sleep, he has to be constantly touching some part of you, or he gets restless. 

You slowly drifted off to sleep, with tears staining your cheeks.

-

“Have you seen Mammon?” 

He never came looking for you last night and he wasn’t at breakfast. He even skipped RAD.

Asmo shook his head, “Not since yesterday. Did something happen?”

You decided to fill him in with all the details. He is the Avatar of Lust after all, so surely he could give you some advice regarding love.

He gasped dramatically, “No she didn’t! What a tart!”

“I know I shouldn’t have doubted him. He’s never given me a reason to, but I don’t know. She just got in my head, I guess. Poked at some insecurities.” You explained. “I haven’t seen him since he stormed off.”

“He won’t pout for long, he never does.”

“It’s more than just pouting. I hurt him just like everyone else. He feels betrayed.” You said, voice small.

You just wanted to pepper his face with kisses and profusely apologize for ever doubting him. Why did you ever let some random succubus get to you like that? To make your trust for Mammon falter, even slightly. Did you honestly believe he would toss you aside after he got what he could out of you? Really? 

Satan said it too though, in the beginning. That when you’re with him you find yourself drowning in gifts and the like, but once he outgrows you, you’re left with nothing. That’s the Greed.

You refuse to accept it though.

You know Mammon, better than anyone. He has changed so much since you came here. He’s not the same demon he used to be. He is more than just his sin.

“When he is ready, he’ll come back. He always does.” Asmo said, placing a hand on your shoulder, giving you a warm smile.

“Now, let’s go and change! You are depressing me and it’s ruining my skin. We are going out tonight!” He was practically vibrating with excitement. You, not so much.

“Ugh, no way Asmo. I’m not in a party mood.”

“Nonsense! It’s exactly what you need. We will have some drinks and dance and you’ll feel better. You’ll see.”

You relented, knowing that once Asmo got his mind set on something like this, there was no getting out of it. Maybe a few drinks really would make you feel better.

-

“Trouble in paradise?” She said, motioning to the drink in his hand.

His clothes were dishevelled, his hair mussed, eyes red-rimmed and puffy. He looked like he’d been through the wringer. Felt like it too. He’d been in the private lounge at the club for a little while now, nursing drink after drink, attempting to drown his sorrows.

“Go away.” He growled, turning his attention back to his drink.

“Is that anyway to greet an old friend?” She asked innocently.

“Nah, but it is a good way to greet a snake.”

“Ouch.” She put a hand over her heart, feigning hurt feelings.

“Haven’t ya caused enough problems? Leave me alone.”

She scoffed, plopping down onto the couch next to him.  “Oh, come on Mammon. You’re this hung up over a human?”

“Don’t talk about MC.” He snarled. In one big gulp, he swallowed the remainder of his drink. No matter what kind of situation the two of you were in, he wouldn’t let someone, anyone, say anything cross about you. At all.

“Oh, come on. You can’t seriously say you don’t miss being with me. A demon.” She leaned in close, her lips next to his ear, “Not nearly as fragile as a human. You can be as rough as you want..” She purred.

He jumped up from where he’d been sitting, attempting to get away from the succubus. “Get the fuc- Whoa.” He slurred, staggering slightly before quickly sitting back down, head lolling back to rest on the back of the couch. His vision was pretty blurry; the room spinning. He closed his eyes, hoping it’d help. 

Even in his deeply inebriated state, you were all that was on his mind. The feel of your hand running through his hair, lightly scratching at his scalp. The warmth of your body pressed against his, your lips; soft and delicate like rose petals, leaving small kisses across his face before finally meeting his lips. The bubbly sound of your laughter, beautiful like music. The way your eyes shine every time you see him, even if he only left your side for a tiny moment. 

After the fight you had and leaving the way he did, and now being away from you a whole day, not hearing your voice, feeling your touch, he was ready to go crazy. And although he did sneak back into the house after he was sure everyone was asleep, and slept in the backseat of his car so no one would find him, it wasn’t the same as sleeping next to you. He missed you.

But, it was more than that. He felt so incredibly stupid for reacting the way he had. If he were in your situation, and felt how you did, he would’ve had questions too. You love him, and all you wanted was a little reassurance that he in fact does love you. Man, does he love you. More than he’s ever loved anyone or anything.

With the attention span of a tuna sandwich, mixed with the levels of alcohol in his system, and being so deep in his thoughts of you, he hadn’t noticed the sudden shift of weight in his lap.

One hand found its way to the back of his head, fingers tangling in his hair. The other hand resting on his chest, slowly moving down his stomach, intently feeling every muscle. His mouth opened slightly, a breathy sigh escaping. He had missed you so much, your touch lighting his skin ablaze, craving you more and more.

Your hand moved lower, earnestly caressing his growing stiffness. Your lips crashed into his suddenly; hungrily, your tongue brushing his bottom lip. His hands moved up your thighs before firmly gripping your hips, grinding you against him.

Small alarm bells were going off in his head, something didn’t seem right. You didn’t giggle like you always do when he grabs your hips. Your kisses seemed sloppier than usual too.

He tried opening his eyes, blinking lazily several times. The room was still swirling around in his drunkenness, making it nearly impossible to focus.

Your hand moved to his pants, undoing the button and zipper. He removed a hand from your hip and grabbed your wrist, but didn’t attempt to move your hand from his swollen boxers. As he was about to break the kiss and suggest heading home and picking up with this make up where you left off, he heard a voice nearby.

“What the hell?!” They shrieked. 

Asmo?

“Mammon..?” You barely choked out.

That was your voice. He’d recognize it anywhere; the musical sound gently floating into his ears as it always did. But you sounded like you were crying..

And it didn’t come from the figure straddling his lap. How is that possible? He’s been making out with you, getting pretty heated actually, for the last several minutes.

He broke the kiss with you, confusedly turning to his left and blinking several times until his surroundings started to come into focus.

There you stood in the doorway of the private lounge with Asmo next to you, your eyes wide as s tears streamed down your cheeks, gaping at him in horror.

The alarm bells that had been going off, the red flags popping up trying to warn him that something wasn’t quite right, were about to become very clear.

- part two coming soon! -

[bobohu4eva]

Pink Lace - Preview/Chapter 1

Characters: Baekhyun x Reader

Genre: College AU, stripper AU, fluff, smut, slow burn

Summary: Baekhyun, a philosophy professor with mysterious wealth, got himself completely fucked over a girl who can’t let him into her life. 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: sex work, mentions of sexual assault, adult themes/situations, eventual smut

Master list

“Looking good tonight Candy.” 

You rolled your eyes, frowning.

“Thanks Dave.”

Having your manager check you out every time you clocked in was one of the less fun parts of your job.  

You didn’t clock in to make any kind of hourly pay, and your real name was definitely not Candy. As a dancer at a gentleman's club you made your money on a pole and in private lap dance rooms, but it’s whatever pays the bills, and as a college student being able to make over a thousand dollars a week working just two nights was worth it. 

After checking in, you went back to the dressing room to check your makeup and outfit one last time and grab your money bag before heading back out to get your night started.  

Saturday nights used to not be your favorite, but they had been for a few months now because of one customer. The first night you met him, his friends had dragged him in after getting dumped to cheer him up. When you sat down with the nine of them you already knew it would be a good night, judging by the *quite* expensive VIP booth they’d bought. 

Your first impression of him wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, having met plenty of relatively good looking guys while working at the club and being quite used to groups like them doing birthdays or bachelor parties.

They were a fun group, and you found yourself actually having fun as they bought you rounds of drinks and perched you on their newly single friends lap. 

That night his friends bought him a private room with you, and he’d been back to see you again every Saturday night since.  

Baekhyun always arrived pretty early in the evening so you sat yourself down at the bar and made yourself look busy while you waited for him to show up. Tonight you were wearing a matching lace lingerie set along with a new pair of clear heels, and your hair straight down your back. With your nails done and your favorite perfume on to top it all off, you felt sexy as hell. On weeknights you didn’t try as hard, but on days he would be there you always made sure to put in a little extra effort to look as nice as possible. You told yourself it was just because he payed you so much, so you wanted to look your best. But you’d have been lying to yourself if you didn’t admit that you wanted to impress him. Baekhyun, especially compared to other customers, was quite attractive. Having him fawn over you and compliment you always made you feel good. 

You feel a tap on your shoulder followed by a “hey” and turn around to see Baekhyun grinning back at you. 

“Hi Baekhyun” you smile back, getting up and giving him a small hug. 

“Hi Candy.”

Standing in 8 inch stripper heels you’re slightly taller than Baekhyun, and you find his usual glasses + hoodie + cargo pants combo endearing. Despite being somewhere around 30 and therefore significantly older than you, you can’t help but find him cute, adorable even. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks, already knowing your answer.

“Of course, you know what I like” you say, giving him smirk and running one perfectly manicured hand over his shoulder, and down his toned chest.

The whole time you touched him his eyes were fixated on yours, looking at you with an intensity you weren’t used to, something you’d noticed was unique to him compared to the other men you met there.

“Your outfit tonight it.. um..” he says, eyes now looking you up and down, almost drooling. “ I like it.” 

 It was the same thing every time he’d come see you. He’d buy two beers, one for him and one for you, and shorty after pay you $800 for an hour together in a private dance room. For any other guy it would be $1000, but he didn’t need to know that.

You made your way up the stairs towards the area of the club with the private dance rooms hand in hand, leading him behind you to give him the best view.

“Do you want me to dance for you today or do you just wanna talk?” You asked as you entered the room and took your top off, standing in front of him as he sat down on the couch. Usually you would dance for him for a few songs and spend the rest of the time sitting on his lap listening to him talk about whatever it might be that week but some days he just wanted your company and nothing more. 

“Just for this song, I really like this song.” He said looking up at you with big eyes. So, you got to work doing your usual thing.

Getting into the rhythm of the music, you started swaying your body and slowly leaning towards him.

This time both of your hands find purchase on his chest and you move your body in a wave, giving him the full close up view of your bare chest.

As you lean back up you notice he’s slumped deeper into the couch and biting his lip, already thoroughly turned on.

“Holy shit” he muttered to himself, watching your nearly naked form sway in front of him.

The way he looked at your body was different too. Most men looked at you like nothing more than a piece of meat, something to use for pleasure and nothing more. Not that you minded, as long as you got your money, but the way Baekhyun looked at you as you danced for him was almost like someone observing a piece of art. 

You rotated your body until you’re facing away from him, and bent down slowly, the curves of your ass on full display to him, making it jiggle a bit before bending back up and lowering yourself onto his lap.

“God you’re something else, I wish I could touch you.”

You noticed him sit on his hands, because of course he wasn’t actually allowed to touch you, you were only allowed to touch him.

Once you were situated on his lap, you started moving your hips to the music, causing his head to hit the back of the couch.

As usual, you could feel his dick straining against his pants as you rolled your hips over him.

“Fuck” you heard him whisper.

You knew how much he was holding himself back by the way he was sweating and panting. He was one of the few costumers who had never once tried to touch you, not even a little bit. Which you appreciated, but right now you felt yourself almost wanting him to, knowing that his reaction alone would be worth it for you to see.

So against your better judgement, and with the hope of a little extra money, you turn around, knees straddling his right thigh, and put your arms on each of his shoulders. You play with the hair at the base of his neck and whisper in his ear

“If you really want to, you can touch.”

You almost feel bad when you notice his entire body go rigid beneath you, eyes wide at your words.

“Are you serious?”

“I mean nothing too invasive please, but I don’t mind if you want to caress me here and there” you respond with a smile.

“Okay”

You see him swallow as you lowered yourself onto his lap again, this time feeling his hands make contact with the bare skin of your waist.

As you let your hips move with the music, his hands slowly wandered across your waist, hips, and sides. His hands on you were surprisingly warm, soft, and gentle. Under his gaze and in his hands you felt like your body wasn’t just being used for shallow, fleeting pleasure. You felt appreciated.

And this was exactly the problem with Baekhyun.

You knew that you liked him too much, more than you should like one of your customers. You shouldn’t be thinking about how soft and pretty his hands are as they make their way across the skin of your thighs.

“You’re so beautiful. Your skin is so soft.”

You smile, now facing him once again as you sit with your knees on either side of his leg. You feel his words in the pit of your stomach and your hands caress his shoulders and chest, only now with his hands gently placed on your hips.

A few body rolls later and the song was over, so you shifted your weight onto one of his legs, sitting down on his lap, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, and leaning into the couch.

“You’re gonna completely ruin me one day” he breathed out, making you giggle. “Why’d you let me do that?”

“I don’t know, I guess I could tell how much you held back and most guys try to touch me anyway so..”

“They just do it anyway?” His eyes narrowed.

“Yeah well I tell them not to and usually it’s fine after that”

You could sense his discomfort with what you’d just said, looking genuinely agitated.

“Yeah well those guys aren’t worth your time no matter how much they’re paying” he muttered so quietly you almost didn’t hear.

“This is my job Baekhyun, there’s bad customers in every job” you respond timidly.

He turned to look you in the eyes again, this time more intensely due to the proximity of you sitting on his lap.

“Do you like working here?”

“Please don’t ask me that.”

“You know you don’t have to, I can take care of you.”

With the way his eyes bore into yours and he gripped your thigh, you knew he was serious. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t tempted by his words.

Nonetheless you got up from his lap and sat next to him, bodies no longer touching.

“You know that’s not how this works Baekhyun.” You cross your arms over your bare chest, feeling like you needed to hide.

You look down, not wanting to look at him as you continue.

“It’s my job to make you feel good and give you something nice to look at but that’s all it is. My job. I’m sorry.”

He knew you were right. He knew because despite coming to see you every week for a few months now, he knew nothing about you. You wouldn’t tell him any details about your personal life, hell he didn’t even know your real name.

He knew he was stupid to have let himself become so completely fucked over a girl who wouldn’t even tell him her name.

“It’s okay, I understand, I’m sorry if that was too far”

You look at him again, giving him a soft smile.

“How was your week?” You ask, trying to change the subject.

You soon find yourself back on his lap as he starts talking to you about his week, but you couldn’t help feeling guilty. You could tell what Baekhyun felt for you was more than just sexual attraction, and yet he knew nothing about you. He’d asked you general things and you’d told him you were college student, which was true, but you’d lied about which college you attended. He asked about what you were studying and you’d lied about that too, quickly changing the topic back to him and his life.

Every time he tried to get to know the real you, you pushed him away, and you knew he could tell.

It fell silent for a moment, until Baekhyun spoke up.

“This is for touching you” he said as he dug in his pocket before pulling out three hundred dollar bills and putting them in the waistband of your thong.

He didn’t look at you as he gave you the money. It wasn’t until he was done that he grabbed your hand, and gave you another intense look.

“Please, can I please just know your name?” He asked.

With you sitting on his lap, faces close together you saw the desperation in his eyes. He’d spent a decent amount of time with you now and you knew how badly he wanted to know more about you, how much he wanted to be able to get to know the real you.

The way he looked up at you, with that look in his eyes, you knew you couldn’t tell him no.

You sighed.

“Okay. I’m y/n.”

~

Shorty after your hour together was up, Baekhyun went home and so did you. Counting your money was easy that night; just the eleven hundred dollar bills he’d given you. 

As you took your makeup off and got ready to finally sleep you couldn’t help but feel strange about Baekhyun knowing your real name. Despite how nice he smelled, how cute he was, and how kind, generous, and funny, and how you liked spending time with him more than any other customer, that’s still exactly what he was. A customer. Someone who walked into a club looking to pay hot girls in exchange for their attention. But at that point Baekhyun was your friend too. He’d been coming to see you for the whole summer, and you really did enjoy talking to him. 

Is it okay for him to actually get to know you? Is it okay for you to want him to? 

Next Chapter

A/N: Hello! This felt pretty short which is why it’s kind of a preview/first chapter but please tell me what you think :) and let me know if anyone wants to be tagged for the next chapter!