#pete brenner fics

[lilacevans]

𝑚𝑦 𝑎𝑑𝑣𝑖𝑐𝑒? 𝑠𝑡𝑜𝑝 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑟𝑜𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑒𝑦 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑎 𝑚𝑎𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑦 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑝𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒'𝑠 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑑𝑜.

requested by @vellicore ✧.*

it's opening night at pete's place! | — pete’s place🤎

[barneswilsonrogers]

Chris Evans as Pete Brenner PAIN HUSTLERS (2023) Dir. David Yates

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 14

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: Happy Tuesday

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Promise, Pete, I’ll get her back in one piece,” Hansen vows with a wink and a nudge. 

You sit helpless in his passenger seat. He has one hand on the open door as he faces your husband. Pete won’t look at you but you can barely do the same of him. Funny, how you’re so eager to be away from him that you’re not even that bothered at the prospect of spending the day with your boss. 

“You’re a life saver. Really. Never had a boss that cool,” Pete says. 

“Well, you know, I gotta admit. Your wife carries a big load at work. She’s saved my ass more than once and she kinda holds the whole place together. I’m sure you know exactly what that’s like, huh?” Hansen proclaims. 

“Uh, yeah I do,” Pete has the decency to sound ashamed. It’s too bad he couldn’t have seen that years ago. 

“Lucky man. We’re gonna figure it out. She’s strong, we both know you can’t keep her down,” he clicks his tongue.  

“Right, uh, well, I could take her if it’s easier.” 

“What? Pete? You were just telling me about that big meeting. Good luck!” He slaps Pete’s shoulder. “You’ll have to bring us some good news.” 

“Uh, right,” Pete grumbles, “um, honey, I... I love you. I hope the doctor can help.” 

“Thanks,” you say curtly. “Don’t wanna be late.” 

“Gotta listen to the wife, right? Always knows best,” Hansen chortles. “Watch out, sweetheart, don’t wanna catch you.” 

He closes the door as you keep your head straight. Their voices are muffled and you’re thankful for the mental break. The two of them don’t stop. You don’t know how you didn’t see the similarities before. 

You close your eyes and Lloyd drops into the driver’s side. You don’t flinch. He turns the engine and you stay just as you are. He pulls out and the motion sends a ripple through you. The painkiller might have something to do with that. 

“So, the old man and you are... icy,” he says. 

“That’s personal.” 

“Well, baby cakes, think we’re well past blurring lines,” he scoffs. 

“What do you care?” 

“Hey, I’m not entirely heartless. My balls just happen to be more sensitive,” he snickers. “Trust me, I’m not getting sentimental. I want you back to operational. That means whatever stick is lodged up your ass needs to come out so mine can get in.” 

“Disgusting,” you growl. 

“Mm, please, talk dirty to me, baby,” he purrs. 

You snap your mouth shut and grimace. You can’t help but think of the night before. Of Pete all over you. Just like the man beside you, he didn’t listen either. Your own husband... 

“Jesus, I know you’re high on percs but try to lighten up,” he intones. 

You rub your cheek and pry your eyes open, “are you really taking me to a doctor?” 

“As much as I’d rather be taking you to a penthouse and breaking your back more than it already is, yes, I’m taking you for real help. I got a magic mustache and even better tongue but I can’t fix whatever the fuck happened to you,” he shakes his head. “And judging by the way that creature had his tail tucked up where his dick should be, I think he had something to do with it.” 

He sniffs and squints at the road. He gives a thoughtful hum. 

“Petey doesn’t seem like the wife beater type, but I guess-” 

“The fuck? He didn’t-- Argh!” You grip your hip and spasm as you tense at the accusation. “He didn’t... mean to. I slipped.” 

“Huh, dropped you? Man can’t handle all of you, can he?” 

“Hansen,” you warn. 

“I could give him some lessons, if you want.” 

“Stop, please. I’m already going insane with you--” 

“Oh, I know, I got that something that makes the ladies go wacky,” he preens. 

“Urgh, for the love--” 

“Relax. Please. You really can’t help yourself. You’re making it worse. Legit. You’re getting actually butthurt because you can’t let up for one minute,” he reprimands. “I’m dying to get in there and loosen you up but you gotta meet me halfway. So chill.” 

You growl but try to take his advice. The tension is too much. If you keep going on like this, something’s going to give. With what the doctor said about your blood pressure, it could even be your heart. 

You watch the road. It’s nice to not be in control. To not be taxiing someone around; to not be the one worried about time or anything. Still, it’s that underlying reality that keeps you edgy. 

Lloyd pulls in at a clinic on the north end. It’s the kind you could never afford. You’re pretty sure you get a free Costco membership just for being a patient. 

As he parks, you sit up. He tuts, “now, you let good old Lloyd help you with your broken tush, babykins.” 

You send him a derisive look but don’t argue. The painkiller is kicking in and makes even him tolerable. He gets out and you watch him come around. 

He opens your door and with uncharacteristic caution, slides his arm behind you. You lean on him as you stand. He’s actually helping you. Your back buckles but he keeps you steady. He closes the door with his other arm and ushers you slowly across the lot. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” You ask. 

“What?” He laughs. “I’m helping you, sweet cheeks.” 

“Exactly. You’re helping me. Why?” 

“I’ve been pretty honest how hungry I am for the peach,” he returns. 

“It can’t be just that.” you growl. “I’m not stupid.” 

“Oh, I know you aren’t. That’s half the fun. Easy enough to get a bimbo on my desk. Boring, now that I think of it--” 

You hiss and grab onto his forearm to keep from collapsing. You hate that you’re latching onto him for comfort. At that moment, you don’t have much else; in several ways. 

“Easy, alright,” he coaxes. “We’ll get you inside and sitting down. Hopefully it’s not as bad as it looks.” He whistles as he approaches the doors and kicks the automatic door button. “You’re looking rough.” 

“Gee, thanks, Hansen. You really know how to flatter a woman.” 

“More like flatten but we’ll get to that.” 

“Gah,” you snarl as he ushers you through the lobby. “You are the most vile man I’ve ever met.” 

“Ah, you really think so?” He angles you with him as he approaches the elevator and reaches to tap the button. “I don’t got a wife and kids at home waiting for me as I’m fucking the intern. Nah, I’m just tempting a working mom into adultery--” 

“Shut the fuck up!” You bark as the doors open. An elder woman is wheeled out at she sends you an appalled gape. Lloyd smiles and guides you into the elevator. 

“Not hard to piece together, you know?” 

“I’m telling you,” you warn him as the lobby is shut out by the metal doors. “It’s none of your business.” 

“It’s not and I don’t really care if Pete is boning the assistant he’s underpaying. But it explains a lot.” 

“Does it?” You snip. 

“Oh yeah. The way you leak like a faucet whenever I’m near for one--” 

“Gross.” 

“And the skill. Ma’am, I know you’ve been dreaming of it in that empty bed. The neglected wife, wiling away her spare hours, longing... well, here I am, baby, your knight in shining armour.” 

You whimper. The pain in your back is dull enough that you can bear it. It’s his needling that’s driving you up the wall. You need him to stop. You need everything to stop. You need one day when you’re not a plaything, not a wife, not a mom. 

“Keep sneering at me but we both know you came yesterday and it had nothing to do with the pills,” he taunts smugly. “So let me fix you up and I’ll give you all the Os you can handle.” 

🗄️

“It’s not a fracture,” the doctor turns away from the black and white images. “But I’m sure it hurts. You definitely bruised the bone but from what I can tell, your muscles are tight. It’s adding pressure to the trauma point. Pinching on a nerve or two.” 

You nod. It’s a relief that you didn’t break anything it’s not entirely great news. Lloyd turns away from the skeletal diagram on the table. “So, she’s fine?” 

“She’s in a lot of pain, isn’t she?” The doctor says. “She needs to go home. Relax. Sleep, if you can.” 

“Anything I can do to help?” He offers. “I really can’t stand to see her like this, doc. It makes me feel so powerless.” 

He touches his chest dramatically and you make a face.  

“Gentle massage. Just tender. Nothing to intense. Don’t push on anything,” he explains. “Warm bath if you can bear it, ice too. You said you have a support cushion?” You nod. “If you have to sit up, use it.” 

“I can handle that,” Lloyd drawls. “I can be gentle.” 

He smirks at you as you send him a sharp look. His lashes flick and his irises flare. You could punch him in the face and you think it would only egg him on. 

“Doc,” Lloyd nears him, “thanks. I owe ya. I’ll have a bottle of scotch sent to the practice.” 

“Just doing my job but I don’t mind a good cask-aged bottle.” 

“Consider it on its way,” Lloyd assures him and turns to you. 

You thank the doctor and let Lloyd help you off the bed. You don’t have the strength or energy to resist. It’s just the same as the last professional prescribed. Rest. You think he might just have to listen to the experts and give you a break. 

“Alright, let’s get you home, baby,” he cooes as you pass through the waiting room. You catch the glance of a woman who watches with envy as her husband slumps with arms crossed and resists a midday nap. If only she knew the type of man Lloyd truly is. 

He reclines the seat in the car for you. You close your eyes. The pills make you tired, just like everything else. 

The smooth motion of the car lulls you. You startle as you find yourself still. Lloyd lifts you from the seat and you spasm. You whimper and he clucks. 

“There ya go, making it all worse again,” he chides. 

You grab onto his shoulder. You can’t help but think of how Pete let you fall. You fear another crash down to earth. 

“I work out, baby face, don’t fucking worry,” he assures you. 

You furrow your brow and look around. You’re not in your neighbourhood. You thought he was taking you home. Instead, you’re staring up at one of those overpriced modern builds. 

“It’s glorious, isn’t it? The high life.” 

You don’t answer him. There’s nothing you could say that could convince him you’re not covetous, because you are. You could’ve gone down this road. You could’ve skipped the dry marriage and the fussy kids. 

That thought scourges you with guilt. You love your children and once upon a time you loved your husband too. It can’t be a mistake if it made you happy once. Simone and Malik still do make you happy. Hopeful, even. 

He brings you through the front door and strides into the airy front room. The windows stretch from ceiling to floor and let in the day. He lays you on the spacious sectional, the cushions wide enough for two, and he drags a pillow over for you. 

You close your eyes, content to just be in one place. 

He tugs your shirt up and exposes your stomach. You tug it back down and your lashes snap open. He tilts his head at you. 

“Baby, I’m helping.” 

“Leave it,” you warn. 

“What’s the problem? I saw it all before.” 

You glare at him. The problem is it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t need to gawk at you. He doesn’t need to count the ways you can’t compare to Kendra and those other pretty interns. Just like the one your husband is fucking. 

“Leave that at the goddamn door,” he says as if he can read your mind. 

He yanks again and you relent. Whatever. You’re just something to be used. For Pete, you’re a dishwasher and a laundry machine. For Lloyd, you’re a piece of flesh and fodder for his twisted ego games. 

He undresses you with a tenderness so unlike him. His hands rove up and down your body with each piece he removes. When you’re completely exposed, you cover yourself futilely with your hands. He tweaks your nipple then toys with it. 

“Gotta turn you over,” he winks. “My favourite position.” 

“You can’t--” 

“Relax, I’m not gonna finish the job,” he taps your thigh. 

He helps you shift onto your side. You groan and grunt with the effort. You hug one of the cushions and lean onto it, your back to him. He flutters his fingers down your side and goosebumps rise over your skin. 

You shiver and he chuckles, “feels nice, huh? See, I can be a good boy.” 

You don’t reply. You close your eyes and cling to the strands of delight. That relief is so fleeting. He drags his fingers up and down and around your lower back. He sweeps around your hip and retraces the same path. Your muscles quiver but unwind. 

“That’s it,” he encourages you. 

You moan as the heat of his fingers seeps into you. It’s nice. You haven’t feel this placid in so long. Your head stirs and your limbs slacken. You forget the world and just let yourself be in that feeling. 

His hand creep along the back of your thigh then between your legs. He wiggles between them and you flinches. He pushes against your slit and rubs the side of his index against your clit. 

“Hansen,” you rasps. 

“Shhhh,” he hushes you. “Doctor’s orders. You need to relax.” 

[witchywithwhiskey]

slasher summer masterlist

summerween is over, and so is my slasher summer writing challenge. as promised, here's the masterlist of all entries in the challenge (if yours is missing, please DM me!)

thank you to everyone who participated, as well as all readers who liked, reblogged and commented on the fics!! i loved getting to read everyone's stories and see what y'all did with the prompts. you're all so creative and lovely—thank you again!!!

for readers, please heed the warnings on each individual post below, your media consumption is your responsibility. and please make sure to show your support of the writers by reblogging their work!!!

When He First Got Me by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: soft!dark and rough Nomad!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Prequel in the Exiled Nomad Series. July 3, 2017. Steve sees you at a city festival for the Fourth of July, but he's not content with only seeing…

Dirty Little Secret by @buckys-wintersoldier

pairing: Professor!Ari Levinson x Student!Female!Reader summary: You share a dirty little secret with your professor.

In the Woods by @thezombieprostitute

pairing: James Mace x Female!Reader x Chris Beck summary: Using the prompts: Summer Camp; Sex in the Woods; You know how girls love to scream

Not A Common Storm by @nekoannie-chan

pairing: Steve Rogers x Agent of HYDRA!Reader summary: You and Steve are trapped in a storm, what would happen?

Once Upon A Friendship by @steviebbboi

pairing: Childhood Bestie!Steve Rogers x Female!Reader summary: Growing up together, you and Steve were inseparable. Where did it all go wrong?

Rosa by @perdidosbucky-yyo

pairing: Best Friend!Steve Rogers x Plus Size! Female!Reader summary: Trapped in a prison of your husband and your mother’s expectations, your only comfort is the ghost in your garden, haunted by the memory of your best friend. You thought you would never see him again but when he unexpectedly returns home from the war after 12 years, you’re not prepared for what’s to come.

A Night of Frights & Delights by @elixirfromthestars

pairing: Athlete!Bucky Barnes x Artist!Reader summary: It’s Friday the 13th and the college kids in town decided to host a weekend camping trip on the outskirts of town. Your best friend convinced you to go much to your reluctance. What could go wrong when the one guy you can’t stand is also there?

Sweet and Slashy Summer Saturdays by @buckets-and-trees

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Curvy!Female Reader summary: A first date with your neighbor Bucky Barnes.

Fool Me Once… by @dc418writes

pairing: Ari Levinson x BlackReader, Pete Brenner x BlackReader summary: Who knew grudges could be so deadly?

Slasher by @witchywithwhiskey

pairing: DARK Horror Movie Villain!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader summary: Somehow, you end up in your favorite old horror movie, and you decide to take the opportunity to fulfill one of your fantasies—you're gonna fuck the villain, Bucky Barnes.

[darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was Masterlist

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can’t catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Status: In Progress

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

[dbnightingale24]

You Didn't Have To Say Yes...

A Pete Brenner Love Story

~~

My first Patreon story!! I decided that Pete needs a love story, cause I feel like he gets shit on a lot. He's not a bad guy, he just has some...bad habits.

Thank you to everyone for your patience (once again), and I hope you all enjoy! As always, thank you to @fuckingbye for my amazing moldboard! I love it and I love you! I wrote this in a week (I don't know what's going on with my brain as of late), and I'm really excited for it!

Word Count: 49,380

Warnings: Pete Brenner, Smut, MINORS DNI 18+, Swearing, Daddy Kink, Drinking, Smoking, Drug Use, Angst, Self Hate, Semi-Public Sex (fingering), Open Marriage (Toxic Relationship), Abuse, Fluff, Family Drama, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Abortion ...I think that's it? I'm pretty sure I covered all the bases...yeah

Songs That Inspired This Chapter: If You're Feeling Down, I Just Wanna Make You Happier Baby

Summary: Pete Brenner is perfectly fine with everyone continuing he's a selfish piece of shit. That is, until you walked into his life, and turned everything upside down.

~~

I do not give consent/permission for my stories/works to be posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.

~~

~~

“C’mon, give me a smile,” Pete beams, his words tailing a slight slur as you make someone else’s Manhattan.

“I think it’s time for you to go, Mr. Brenner,” you giggle dismissively, flipping your hair and shaking up the cocktail mixer.

“I wonder how much sweeter my name would sound if you were underneath me,” he grins and lifts his eyes at you. You ignore the heat in the pit of your stomach, not wanting to surrender to his smarmy charm.

Pete Brenner doesn’t give up easily, you’ll give him that. 

“I’m sure your wife is happy that you’re always here, trying to bring me home instead of spending time with her,” you nod with a glance towards his left hand. A waitress comes over, picking up the next round of drinks.

“I’ve told ya, she has her fun and I have mine.”

“Cause that’s what every woman loves to hear. Woo me even more, Brenner,” you laugh, turning around and getting started on the next drink.

“Your ass looks amazing in those shorts.”

You laugh as you call over your shoulder, “I’m ordering you a cab.”

“I can take myself,” he mutters with an exasperated sigh. You know he’s pulling out his wallet, frustrated that you’re not leaving with him again.

“We go through the same motions every time, Pete. I don’t want you driving home drunk.”

“You refuse to sleep with me, but you care about my well being? I think you’re finally startin’ to warm up to me.”

“I don’t sleep with married men, Pete. Find a new dream to chase. You know the drill, the cab will be here in ten.”

Pete Brenner came stumbling into your life about a year and a half ago, and he’s been a character since day one. He was down on his luck, drinking until he could barely stand, refusing help from anyone, always ending with the same mantra every night:

“I’ve made this fucking far on my own, I can make it to my own fucking house!”

No matter how much you pushed, he wouldn’t accept help from you. He always refused service from everyone except you. At first he didn’t say anything, he just watched you and let his eyes roam over your body. He never said out loud that he wanted you, but he didn’t exactly go out of his way to hide it either. He was so obvious he never needed to say it explicitly. The glint of his gold wedding band always caught your attention under the sparkling lights of the nightclub, but seeing as he spent every night there until closing, you didn’t think it made much of a difference.

Until one night, eight months ago.

“There she is! My favorite girl!” he beamed, a cocky smile cemented on his lips.

The woman sauntering next to him didn’t seem to think too highly of the nickname he called you. 

“I’ll take a bourbon, and this sweet little thing next to me will have a Strawberry Daiquiri,” he told you, though his eyes never left your chest.

“Oh? Wedding anniversary?” you half smiled as you tried to put on your workplace happy face even though you mentally thought to yourself ‘he can’t be that sleazy to bring her to this dump on their wedding anniversary.’

“Got a new job, sweetheart,” he smirked. You didn’t miss the mischievous shine in his eyes in the club’s half light.

He was a bold mother fucker to bring his wife along just to flirt with you in plain view of her. Not many men had that much audacity when it came to you. 

“I’m Y/N,” you offered with a smile.

You genuinely pitied the woman.

“Tina,” she responded with a plastic smile.

Big boobs, micro-waist, big fake blonde hair, and Pete had ordered her a strawberry daiquiri. She fit the description of most “Tina’s” that came into the club. However, the large rock on her ring finger was nothing to scoff at.

“Oh, don’t pout, honey,” Pete taunted her. “This is what you wanted, right? Me to get a brand new important job and show you off? That’s what you’ve been bitchin about for months, isn’t it? So smile, would ya? You got ya wish.”

Someone was feeling prickly that night.

“First round of drinks are on the house. Congrats, Pete,” you smiled as you set both drinks down.

“Keep ‘em comin’, sweetheart,” he winked at you, handing you a hundred.

While it may have not been anything new to you (Pete always tipped generously), Tina’s eyes went wide and you didn’t miss the way her cheeks burned and blushed with anger.

You wanted to stay as far away from them as the night allowed.

You happily took shots with some of your regulars as the night went on and evened out. Your friends started showing up for their shifts, which helped your sour mood from earlier in the day (even though your ex-fiancee showed up outside of your apartment to harass you yet again). The more you drank, the more you started to dance along with the music; which meant Pete couldn’t keep his gaze off you.

“Why are you single?” Pete asked once his wife got up to go to the bathroom.

“You don’t strike me as the cruel type, Mr. Brenner,” you grinned as you made him another drink.

“Curiosity doesn’t equate to cruelty.”“You’re still here with your wife.”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

“Why’d you bring her tonight?”

“You heard me, this is what she wanted,” he cynically scoffed.

“They’re a lot nicer clubs than this one.”

“Can’t all be that nice if you don’t work there, sweetie.”

You both looked at each other for a moment before you heard, “Darlin’!” coming from the other end of the bar.

“Comin’ Charlie,” you laughed, breaking the stare with him, and shook your head. You used the bar to push yourself off away, down to it’s other end while Pete sipped the last of his remaining drink.

You didn’t need glasses to see that Pete Brenner was an attractive man, and he was important...well, he did his best to imply his importance (as if it would get him far with you). You’d be a liar if you said you hadn’t thought about going a few rounds with him in the bedroom, but you didn’t sleep with married men. 

No matter how hard they tried, you had a set of both personal and professional rules that you abided by.

For the rest of the night, you stayed away from Pete and his wife unless they needed a refill. It was almost as if Tina was trying to make him regret his choice of celebration because she was throwing back her drinks like they were water. The night went smoothly enough, nevertheless, until you went outside for a smoke break.

“You should really quit those things,” came the voice of the last man you wanted to see or hear from.

“What do you want, Mark?”

“I come in peace, Sweet Thing,” he laughed, putting his hands up.

You’d always hated the nickname.

“Didn’t get enough arguing this morning? What else could you possibly have to say?” you questioned while you exhaled your frustration.

“You know you miss me, baby.”

“I miss the peace I had in my life before I met you.”

“You’re still working at this dump?”

“I have bills to pay.”

“You know I’d be more than happy to take care of you.”“Don’t want it. Nor do I want anything from you,” you snapped with a growl.

“Yet you drove yourself here in the car I bought for you,” he sneered, nodding in the direction of where the car was parked.

“Take the fucking car back then, Mark. If it means you’ll leave me the fuck alone, take back every single thing you ever gave me.”

Snickering, he made his way to you and grabbed your arm saying,“don’t be bitter when I know just how sweet you’re capable of being.”

With a scoff, you threw down your cigarette and bludgeoned it, “fuck this.”

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going? Enough with the goddamn attitude, Sweet Thing-”

“Let me go!”

“You’re coming with me-”

“Let her go!” you heard Pete yell as he quickly made his way over to you, leaving his wife to stumble to their car all alone.

She looked slack jawed from Pete to you, before her stare turned venomous and settled on you. It’s just what you needed on top of everything else; his prized Barbie play-toy thinking you were fucking her husband. 

Great.

~~

Read the rest of the story here

[shadeysprings]

Deal or No Deal.

—Pete Brenner x F!Reader

Summary — You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make him say yes.

Warnings — implied noncon/dubcon, coercion, power imbalance. There may be more that I forgot to mention but please read with caution.

Word Count — 986

A/N — Another impromptu fic because the muse was calling for it. Plus, the babies were wanting and who am I to say no and not deliver. Un-beta and no editing has been done so may be sloppy. But we all love some slop anyway haha!

As always, your feedback is highly appreciated and your reblogs would be amazing. And of course, I hope y'all enjoy! ❤️

The bored look on Pete’s face has you feeling even more nervous since you walked into his company. You never should have agreed to take on this project, you should have just stayed quiet and allowed Janice to take it. But no—you had to be proactive, you had to shove it in her face that you are just as good as a sales rep as her, maybe even better. Yet now, as you continue on with your spiel, the presentation you’ve worked so hard on only looks to be going down the drain. 

“Next slide.” Pete says, making you stutter in surprise but simply doing as you’re told and leaning down on your laptop to tap the key. The audible groan that emits from him has you edge as you do.

“Our product not only surpasses the ones like it but it’s tested and proven to do more.” You say with the remaining enthusiasm left in your system. “If you can see from the studies we’ve conducted, Jan—”

“Yawn.” Pete utters while actually doing so, leaning against the seat and resting his elbow atop the table, his cheek leaning on his fist. “Is there any version of this where we end up fucking?”

That stops you. Your brows furrowed in confusion with the words that just rolled out of his mouth. 

“Excuse me?” You say, disgust and shock curling in your voice.

He chuckles and stands from his seat, exaggeratingly stretching his arms before walking over to you at the end of the long table, fingers grazing over the wooden surface.

“You heard me. That presentation of yours? I’ve seen so many just like it from so many people who, just like you, are desperate for me to say yes.” You hear your heart beat frantically against your chest as he comes closer, your feet taking a step back but no more further as you’re suddenly frozen in place. 

“But just like them, I’m going to say no. You know why?” 

You don’t know if he’s asking a serious question or simply playing with you, trying to intimidate you with the unknown power he holds over your head. 

You don’t respond.

“Let me tell you why. Because it’s boring.” His words are like a vice to your chest. “I’m sure you’ve spent all night perfecting this powerpoint and practicing that speech, but, it just ain’t selling. Nothing about it interests me. Nothing about it makes me want to throw my money at it. And nothing about it makes me say ‘Wow!’”

His large hands trace the edge of your laptop before shutting it close, the room going dim, except for the light coming from the projector as your presentation vanishes.

“Nothing about them draws me in. Except you—” The way he says it makes your skin crawl and you take another step back when you see his eyes run up and down your figure, trapping his tongue between his teeth in the process. “There’s a fire in you. Like you would do anything to prove yourself.” He teases. Stopping just in front of you and framing his hip with his hand, in a way that has you seeing the bulge that has formed in his pants, while his other hand taps against the table, waiting, anticipating your next move. 

“So either, you walk out of this room with nothing—a loser like the rest of those chumps waiting outside to talk to me, or you go back to your boss with a big fat sale you can rub onto the one you took this project from.” 

Your hand visibly shakes with the tension that’s swirling around you. Is this what you want? To allow this man to order you around and do as he pleases for the sake of your career? What face would you show Daniel if he says no? Pete is one of the biggest clients he’s been chasing and you’ve been stupid enough to try and show off. 

Letting out a quivering sigh, you bite your lip and place your notes to the side, looking up at Pete’s face before clenching your fists and looking down at your feet. 

“A thousand pieces.” You argue. If you’re losing your dignity, you may as well get something bigger out of it. 

“You bend over this table and show me that ass and I’ll think about giving you seven hundred.” He bargains, a playful smirk forming on his lips—a sign of his victory and your defeat. 

It’s less yet still more than your initial ask. 

Nodding and once more releasing a breath, you lift up your pencil skirt to reveal your backside and lean against the table just like he’s asked. You bite your tongue to stop the yelp that wants to push from your lips when he slaps your ass and whimper in fear and hatred for this man when he grabs you by the waist and presses his clothed erection against you. 

“Make it worth my while, Sweetheart. My time ain’t cheap.”

“There’s our superstar!” Daniel says in oblivious excitement when you walk back into your department, Janice and the rest of your co-workers looking at you with expectation in their eyes. “Well?” Daniel prompts. “How many did he get?”

“Fifteen hundred with a possible order next month.” You say in resignation and present him the order slip signed by Pete with a note requesting for another meeting next week. Shock fills his eyes as he stares down at the paper before he punches the air in obvious celebration.

“No fucking way!” Janice says in disbelief, yet the others surround you, bidding their congratulations. 

“What did you tell him?” One of your co-workers asks.

“What did you do?” Another.

“She did her fucking best, that’s what.” Daniel says in excitement before hugging you tight. “I never doubted you one second, champ. I’m glad I gave you this account.”

If only you can say the same.

[navybrat817]

November Reading List - Part 2 - Non-Marvel

Hey, lovelies! For some reason my original post won't let me save everything , so I have split this into two parts. Here are the non-Marvel character fics I've had the pleasure of reading and reblogging throughout the month of November. Please show these writers some love and heed the warnings for each fic. Remember, you are responsible for your own media consumption. Banner by yours truly and divider by the talented @saradika .

Love, thanks, and happy reading! ❤️

Chris Evans Characters

Andy Barber

Alpha!Andy by @emerald-evans

Second Shot (Ch. 2) by @drabblewithfrannybarnes

Liquid Love by @brandycranby

Ari Levinson

Polar by @avintagekiss24

It Must be That Old Evil Spirit by @vonalyn

The Sun and the Fool by @witchywithwhiskey

Interrogation by @astheskycries

Messy by @inklore

Curtis Everett

Back to Bed by @ghotifishreads

Big Cozy Sweater by @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Claimed by @stargazingfangirl18

Jake Jensen

Gamer Boyfriend by @eloquentreverie

Nice Guy Jake by @paperweight91

Pete Brenner

Hoe Thought by @labella420

Ransom Drysdale

Cocky Ransom by @krirebr

My Best Friend by @sunshine-on-my-mind

Advent Calendar Day 2 by @fushic0re

Simple Mission by @foodieforthoughts

Sweater Stealing /@paperweight91

Sebastian Stan Characters

Nick Fowler

Worship Your Dark Lord by /@witchywithwhiskey

Misc. Characters

For Years or For Hours (Paul Atreides) by @cocoamoonmalfoy

Needy Gojo by @emerald-chaos

Cold (Eddie Munson) by @ysmmsy

Violent Delights (August Walker) by @littlefreya

Cold (August Walker) by @sillyrabbit81

[sweetiebarnes]

IMPORTANT INFO ~ As always this is intended for an adult audience only. Minors do not interact! 18+ only - no exceptions. You do not have permission to translate, copy, or steal my work. If you see my work any place other than here or ao3 it has been posted without my consent. 

Now to the good stuff...

About the event: New year means a new writing event. It's been awhile since I did my last one so I thought the new year would be the perfect opportunity to have one. Plus, kiddo is now back to school so I have more time to write. Yay! How to request: Please use this form to send it your requests.

Format of the requests: For this writing event you will select one character, an AU, a writing prompt, and one kink. If you do not wish for your request to be an AU there is an option for it to be Canon universe.

Time table: This will take place from now until January 31st. My goal is to have all requests completed by then (unless I get some on the 31st.) Please note that this is a dark writing event. If dark fics are not your thing then please do not participate.

If you have any questions or concerns, don't be afraid to reach out.

[evansbby]

[lilacevans]

𝑛𝑜𝑤, 𝑖 𝑑𝑜 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑎𝑠𝑘… 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑢𝑎𝑙 𝑓𝑢𝑐𝑘 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑔𝑜𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜?

𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒏 ༊*·˚ | take a peak here! •°. *࿐

✧* meet the brothers | meet the uncles | check out the playlist *✧

the concept *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set one - pete finds out

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set two - ari meets with his uncle

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set three - the boys are arguing, again

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> gif set four - anywhere you want | pete brenner

meet the family *✧ ༊*·˚

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒 | 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄 | 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄 | 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄 | 𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐘𝐃

*updated daily!

the introduction *✧ ༊*·˚

opening night *✧ ༊*·˚

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the regulars

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> visitor: ransom drysdale

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ -> pete's place: the staff (coming soon!)

pete's place presents: the drabbles. *✧ ༊*·˚

*minors need not interact. this is a 18+ space.

*this is a dark au, with heavy topics & triggers. happy endings do not happen here.

[georgiapeach30513]

Down On Your Knees

Summary: Pete Brenner was a man you hated. But he still has this annoying power over you. But you're not powerless...

Pairings: Pete Brenner X Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  dark-ish, explicit language, explicit sexual content, boss/employee relationship, cheating, toy play, teasing, edging, degradation, objectification, "cockwaming", fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, PIV sex, creampie, cameras, cheating, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.8K

Pete Brenner Masterlist

“You can go now,” Mr. Brenner tells you flatly.  You stand there unblinking.  He promised.  He made so many promises, and now you were standing in his office, quaking.  

He sneers up at you over the file you handed to him, noting the closed door to his office.  Not locked.  It could never never be locked.  That was the rule, and you followed it.  “Mr. Brenner?” 

“That will be all,” he haughtily spits out, as you wiggle around.  “My wife is bringing some lunch by,” he gives you a domineering grin before returning to his paperwork, “You can go now.”

You hated him.  Hated how you could hear a chuckle before that familiar click sounds behind you, and you tremble.  He never made you wait this long.  It was like he was asking his wife to bring him lunch just so he could torture you.  He was the worst part of working here.  And yet the one reason you wouldn’t find somewhere else to go. 

Sitting down at your desk, you wipe the sweat that beads up around your hairline.  Taking a deep breath as you try to center yourself.  It was downright painful what he was doing to you.  You couldn’t think of anything more torturous at this moment.  Hell, you couldn't even think.

Mr. Brenner clears his throat, and you look back at his now opened door.  Lifting up a square rectangle as he clicks it again, and your head crashes to the desk.  “How about you call my wife, and tell her I’ll be ready in half an hour?” You mumble something, still unable to lift your head off the desk, “Excuse me?” 

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.  I’ll call her,” you get Rebecca on the phone, rolling your eyes at how cheerful she sounded.  Telling her that her husband was nearly finished when that stupid clicking rings in your ears, and all you hear is a buzzing sound.  

Squeezing your thighs together the best you knew how, your head crashes back down, “Are…are you okay?” She asks, and you gulp.  Inhale.  Exhale.  Inhale.  Exhale.  You hated him.  You loathed him.

“Y-y-yeah, just…just got hot.  So so hot,” you pant out, when a final click has you turning back to glare at your boss.  He knew how much you despised him.  His mouth turns up in a wicked grin before he winks at you.  

“Okay, tell him that I’ll be there,” rich people are something you didn’t understand.  Too many of the wives were married only for the benefits.  They knew that their husbands were despicable.  But as long as it wasn’t them, they really didn’t care.  They’d turn a blind eye to anything.

“Asshole,” you whisper under your breath, as he clicks that box again.  “I hate you.”

——

“Let’s see here,” Mr. Brenner walks around you.  Looking you up and down like you were his prey, and he was about to devour you.  Leaning in he takes a long sniff up your neck, “Don’t you smell like you had a rough day today.  Let me see,” you shake your head no, getting tired of this demeaning ritual.  Everyday.  You couldn’t leave without it.

“I said, to let me see, or I open this door, and I invite all of them in here to witness this.  Assume the position, and let me fucking see your filthy little cunt,” you gulp as you walk over to his desk, starting to remove your panties before he tsks you, “Let’s see just how wet you got for me today.”

He holds up that rectangle as a warning, as you settle back onto his desk.  Hiking up your pencil skirt before spreading your legs wide.  “Aww, you poor thing.  Your thighs are so sticky and slicked up.  So wet, you’re dripping down.  Been walking around with those soiled panties all day, huh?” 

“You didn’t let me have a lunch break,” he walks closer to you, rubbing over the bulges in your underwear.  He couldn’t know how uncomfortable it was to walk around like this.  Not just wet, but with two toys on you at all times.

Grabbing up a pair of scissors, he cuts off your panties, dropping the soiled silk and lace into his desk.  Sick bastard.  Finally that vibrator drops onto the floor, and you sigh in relief.  He pulls back your lips, giving your swollen clit a roll in between his finger and thumb, and your head tilts back to stare at the ceiling, whimpering.  

“You’re so mean,” you whine.  He doesn’t respond, just pulls out a hot pink dildo.  Sucking your juices off it as he stares at your throbbing pussy.  “I hate you.”

“She doesn’t,” he licks his lips, moaning at your tangy honey.  “You’ve never been stuffed full all day.  Look at her.  She needs to be filled with a real cock.  Needs to actually come.  You filthy slut, your legs are soaked, and that whore hole is spread wide and pulsing, and all for a chance for me to fuck that slutty little hole.  Is that why you flipped me off today?” 

“You wouldn’t let me come,” you start whining as he inserts two fingers.  Humming when squelching sounds become the loudest thing in the office.  He was a mother fucker.  

“But look at how needy you became for me.  You hear that?  It’s the most beautiful sound in the world.  You desperate little slut.  How bad do you want it?” Clenching your eyes closed, you shake your head no.

“You are such a liar.  Tell Mr. Brenner how bad you want me to fuck you.  How bad you want to come over my fat cock.  How bad do you want me to use you?  Tell me how you love being treated like a filthy slut with that door open.  Anyone could walk in, and see you getting that tight little pussy filled with my cock.  Tell me.  Go on, tell me, sweetheart.”

It was demeaning how he never said your name.  It was disgusting how he has you spread out, finger fucking you, and letting your arousal drip down to the floor below, while you tried to deny yourself an orgasm.  It’s what he wanted.  He wanted to break you down.  It’s what you get for moaning on the phone to his boss.  It was his sick twisted game.  

His fingers curl as he drives his hand in you, and you lean back on your elbows.  You wouldn’t say it.  He didn’t let you a lunch break.  Made you walk around soaked, and cockwarming silicone all day.  Little fucker.  He…he…fuuuck.  It is too much.  Your legs were already quivering as he hits your special spot over and over again.  

“Mr. Brenner!” 

“Shh,” he doesn’t slow.  Doesn’t stop.  Not even when your juices squirt all over his shirt.  Soaking him, as he laughs.  Evidence of how good he gave it to you.  Trying to close your legs, but he pushes them further apart.  “Tell me!”  

“I need you to fuck me, Mr. Brenner!” Jerking his hand out of you, he undoes his slacks, and releases his thick member.  He was THROBBING.  Angry with beads of precum dripping down his veiny girth.  He shoves himself into your used pussy, and fucks into you with a fervent need.

Ripping open your blouse, he tugs your breasts out of your bra, just so he can watch the swollen spheres bounce with every hard stab into you.  Menace.  Fucking asshole.  But damn if he didn’t make you feel good.  Giving your nipples a hard tweak, he then slaps your engorged tits.  “My pretty little slut.  I’m going to have you on your knees at the next meeting.  Right under the table with your pretty little mouth keeping my cock warm.  Letting you grind over my shoe, while I talk with the big boys.  Use you like the wet flesh you are.  You are my slut aren’t you?  You like being used?”

“Yes!” 

“Yes, what?”  

“Yes, sir,” you desperately cry as your belly starts to heat up.  You had been denied all day, but you were feeding his ego of making you come fast.  Could already feel him twitching inside of you.  It wasn’t him that made you come so fast.  It was his constant and unrelenting teasing.  All.  Fucking.  Day.  

“Yes, Mr. Brenner!” 

“That’s right!  You are mine to use!  And I will use you however I want!” 

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck,” you grit your teeth.  You hated him.  

“Yeah.  Gonna fill you up.  You think you’re going to be dripping me as you walk out of this office?  They already know,” you open your eyes, pouting up at him, “Yeah.  Say hey to the camera, you fucking slut,” he cackles, and you look behind him to see a camera pointed right at his desk.  Capturing all your salacious sins on film.

“Let them see how pretty you are when you come,” he slaps your clit, making you start to scream out his name.  Coming hard over his cock, and your walls clench down tight around him.  Squeezing every inch of his fat cock, until his warm seeds fills you up.  Your brows furrow, and you can’t help the satisfied smile that covers your face as your cunt milks him dry.

“Even my wife doesn’t get that part of me,” he pulls out of you, just as quickly as he pushed into you.  Never giving you a second glance as he tucks himself back in.  

“You can go home now,” he winks, walking out the office before you.  Fucking.  Asshole.  Dipshit.  

Straightening yourself up the best way you know how, despite missing some buttons on your blouse, you hobble out of his office.  His cream starts to seep out as you walk past his colleagues.  Whispers amongst them.  They’re not stupid.  They could see the evidence drip down your thighs.  Could see the heat in your cheeks, and even your nipples pressing hard against your bra.

“Next time you should have someone to clean you up,” Nick Fowler, another sleazy businessman says as you push the button for the elevator.  

“Shut up.”

“Oh, he doesn’t share?  Your secret is safe with all of us,” he leans over, wiping Pete’s spend off your leg.  Standing up tall, he pushes his finger past your lips.  “How do the two of you taste?  You know there’s only one reason he hired you, right?  You let him fuck you like his sexdoll, and keep your mouth shut.”

“Yeah, and I lie about being on birth control,” you give him a wink, stepping into the elevator.  “She may have the ring.  But I’ll have the kid,” you hold up your middle finger as the doors close.  They were all assholes.  And Pete Brenner was going to give you and your child a beautiful life.  Just to keep quiet.  It would be worth it.  Assholes.  They’ll get what they deserve.

Masterlist

Taglist: @tis-thedamn-season @marveloustaylortot @pono-pura-vida @sstan-hoe @missusbarnes-rogers @peaches1958 @seitmai @smile1318 @andydrysdalerogers @cjand10 @midnightramyeoncravings @kmc1989 @donutloverxo @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @bambamwolf87 @harrysthiccthighss 

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Same as it ever was 1

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as neglect, bullying, manipulation, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Between your home life and work, you just can't catch a break. Especially after you draw the ire of your boss.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen ft. Pete Brenner

Note: Hope yall like this one!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Everyone knows to keep their head down when Mr. Hansen walks through the department. As often as he already has a gripe in his belly, he is just as likely to be looking for a victim to accost. You keep your head down as you sense him trawling the bullpen, his figure a speck at the corner of your eye.

You keep an ear pricked, call it paranoia, but you've witnessed the sort of suffering he can rain down on the unexpecting. You browse the spreadsheet, carefully inputting numbers cell by cell. You withhold a sigh, not wanting to give away any clue of your existence.

"Kendra," he leans on the blonde's desk, his other hand on his hip, "pretty name…"

She thanks him. The new girl is always his favourite novelty. It's these moments that make you even more thankful for the obscurity that comes with age. And more disgusted by the unchanging behaviour of creepy men.

"There's this conference next month, good experience for a temp," he offers, "what about it, sweetheart?"

If it was any other man, you might clear your throat to let him know you can hear him. To remind him of professionalism. Too dangerous. You feel a twinge of pain at letting the twentysomething flounder against his undeniable proposal.

"Far away so… we'd have to fly out," he continues and you shift in your chair unthinkingly. You can't help it, you've been there, you've had to smile and fawn, to pretend your skin isn't crawling. "...pack something pretty."

Your elbow hits your pen and it rolls off the edge of your desk. You wheel back to grab and dare a peek over at Mr. Hansen in his predatory posturing. His eyes are drawn to you and he squints as he rolls his tongue behind his lower lip. Shit.

You sit up quickly, repressing a groan at the pang in your lower back, and roll up to your desk. You cradle your face, hiding behind your hand as you scroll and pretend to be enraptured by your screen. You doubt you're enough to distract him from the beautiful blonde.

"They got room service up in Gaines," he continues, "think about it."

He taps two fingers on her desk as he pushes off. You expect him to strut back to his office but continues his walk of the floor. You shrink down and curl your shoulders, looking at your cold coffee in desperation. A good excuse to get away from your desk but you can already hear him rebuking you for getting up just for another cup.

You click to the next sheet in the file as he nears. You stiffen as he comes behind you, holding your breath as you wait for him to pass. You feel him pause and hear the subtle scuff of his sole. You nearly jump as he puts his hands on your shoulders.

He leans in, his overpriced cologne tickling at the migraine in the back of your brain. You select a cell and pull up a report for comparison. He watches you work without a word, hands firmly on your cardigan.

He shoves away suddenly and claps his hand as he twists on his heel.

"Alright team, back to work," he demands as if the whole floor must be rapt by his presence, "no fucking around."

You let out a breath of relief. You glance over at Kendra as she gives a cringe at his back. You want to commiserate but you'd hate to make her feel more awkward.

You wait until you're certain Hansen is in his office and take your half-finished coffee to the kitchen. You rinse it out and dry it before placing it on the tray of the machine. You put a pod in and select the size, standing back with crossed arms to watch it brew.

You hear someone behind you but don't look over. The shadow approaches the fridge and pulls it open, taking out a container seemingly at random. You turn your head and blanch at Mr. Hansen as he cracks the communal carton of milk meant for coffee and drinks directly from it. You try not to show your disgust.

"Morning," he swipes the back of his hand across his mustache, "want some?"

He offers the carton as you grab your mug and shake your head, "no, thank you, sir."

"On a diet? Keeping the dairy low?" He wonders before taking another gulp then looks at the label. "Ugh, who the fuck ordered skim?" 

You muster an awkward smile. You've never been good at office politics, you don't pander, you just mind your business and so your work. A good day is when no one bothers you.

He puts the carton back without closing it. You retreat slowly, realising he's between you and the door. You try to sidle past as he reaches into the fridge again. He steps back, nearly into your path and examines the tupperware. You stop short as you recognise the worn teal lid; it's your leftovers from the night before, your name clearly labelled on the top.

"Huh," he peels back the lid and smells the chili, "smells delish…" he dips his fingers to your shock and sucks it off shamelessly, "hell of a cook." He says, a tinge of red in his mustache.

"Uh, thanks, I should–"

"You should?" He arches a brow, "you should… keep your nose out of my conversations and focus on your own work, right?"

"I don't know what you mean–"

"I saw you. Squirming like a caterpillar," he snaps the lid back into place and tosses the whole container on the bin beside the fridge, "look, I know at your age, there’s not much excitement but it doesn't mean you needa eavesdrop on matters that don't concern you."

"I didn't–"

"I get it, you're jealous, your ass blew up after the kids and your husband hasn't looked at you in years–"

"Sir," you say affronted but more stung by the accuracy, "please, I wasn't–"

"Oh, yes, you weren't listening because you have a deadline," he steps closer and wraps his hand around your mug. He wiggles it free of your grasp and you let him, "I moved the budget review to tomorrow morning so…" he pauses and swigs the coffee while snapping his fingers with his other hand, "snap, snap on those expense reports."

You stand, stunned and shamed. He spins nonchalantly and strides out, still sipping your fresh coffee. You let your head fall back and groan. Not only are you out the extra caffeine boost but you have to call the babysitter.

🗄️

You don't mourn your lunch as you likely wouldn't have the time to eat. You spend it outside, below the awning of the building as rain pours over the edge. You have your phone in hand and a needling in your skull. This sort of weather always gives you a headache.

On the fifth try, Pete picks up and you swallow a sigh, "hey," you say abruptly, checking your watch.

"Hey, what's up? I had to leave a meeting," he hisses low, out of breath.

"I'm sorry, I just need to know what time you're expecting to be home. The sitter can only stay until seven but I have to stay late–"

"Late? Honey, you know I can't guarantee I'll be there. I'm working my ass off tryna get this thing off the ground. Grinding–"

"I know, I know, but we could use the overtime and… I don't really have a choice."

"Can't you do tomorrow?"

"Pete, it's one night–"

"One night? It's a call I'm not making–"

"Please," you beg, "we need the money, you know we do."

He puffs and blows a raspberry, "shoulda told that sitter to stick around…" he grumbles.

"We can't even afford to pay her for the extra," you mutter.

"I fucking know–"

"Don't swear at me," you warn, "if you hadn't bought that damn corvette–"

"Not doing this again. I'll be home at seven. Happy?"

You roll your eyes, "yeah," you lie. Happy, no, that's not something you feel anymore.

"Pete," a female voice purrs and he hushes them.

"Got it, Anita," he clears his throat, "tell them I'm on my way back."

"Sorry to keep you," you chew your lip, "I'll let you go."

"Sure," he scoffs.

"See ya tonight," you soften your tone, "love ya."

Click. The call ends and you're left dangling. You pull your phone away and look at the screen. No point in using up the last of your break, you might as well just go back to your desk.

🗄️

Your vision glosses as you stare at the messily painted portrait of a house and tree. The sitter sent a picture of Simone's latest artwork and tugs on your impatience to get out of there. You wish you could be there to pick up your kids and hear all about their day. 

Most times you spend the hours after work cooking, cleaning, and trying to rein them in. You're not fun like Emma, their sitter, you're always the voice of reason, the strict ruler of discipline. You send back a heart and black the screen.

Another person packs up for the day, once more tightening the chain that attaches you to your desk. You lean forward, your head pulsing as the brim of your vision blurs. The advil did nothing against your migraine.

You hold your forehead as you squint at the numbers. This is going to take forever. Pushing a budget meeting up one week surely is a personal attack. You need to work on your poker face, you can't do this again. You're too old and tired.

You yawn and fight to keep your eyes open. Maybe Pete can do bath time. You almost snort at that. Right, and hippos are bright pink and friendly.

You shake your head and lean back, trying to stretch out the kinks. You hear the elevator. Eventually you'll get there. 

You look around, realising the desolation of your predicament. Not too many people left, at least not those without offices. You roll each ankle, arches achy just from your low heels.

Your phone buzzes and you ignore it. It's six-thirty. You let it go to voicemail and save your file for good measure.

You think of having another coffee but that will only make your head throb and your night sleepless. Well, more than usual. 

Your cell starts to jitter again. You're agitated as you snatch it up. It's 7:03. Emma's number greets you in blaring white digits. Dammit, you already know what's going on.

You answer, saving again as you wheel the chair back and reach into the drawer to fish out your purse. You keep the phone to your ear as you say 'hi' and struggle to get your jacket on. Pete!

"Hi, um, I'm still waiting for someone to show up–"

"I'm so sorry, Em," you shut off the monitor without bothering to boot down, "Pete said he'd be there. I'm on my way now."

You step around your chair, nearly tripping over it and push it in behind you. You rush across the office in a clomping gait, half-running as you weigh coming in at 4am and convincing security to let you up early. You continue to apologise to Emma as you promise to be home as soon as you can.

You hang up and dial Pete. As you near the elevator, his voicemail plays and you sneer, hitting end and dialing out again. You poke the down button several times and wait for an answer.

"Pick up!" You growl to no one.

"All done for the night?" A lilting taunt brings you around to face Mr. Hansen as he runs a small comb through his mustache, "you work fast."

"Mr. Hansen, I… I have an emergency–"

"Ah, so you're not done," he tuts, "I figured you'd be used to working fast. I'm sure the old man only last about five seconds, huh?"

"Sir," you bite back your offence, "my kids–"

"Aw, mommy's running late for supper. Let me guess, the dead beat can't even boil water."

You want to shriek. Can this man not shut up? This day just won't end and it's really all his fault. You're welling up and about to explode.

"Please," you utter.

"Oh, come on, you got exactly what you wanted, didn't you? Kids, a husband, the whole nine yards," he tucks the comb into his front pocket, "didn't anyone ever tell you they stop fucking you once you pop at a couple watermelons?"

You gulp. What is happening? Your throat tightens up and your eyes glaze. It shouldn't bother you, he's a gross old pervert but what are you? A bitter and sad old woman.

"You're not going to cry, are you? A strong working lady like yourself? Nah, you can hold it in, for the kids. You got a daughter don't ya, you wouldn't want her to see you break–"

You take a step towards him and stop yourself, palm itching to smack him. You raise your chin and bat your lashes. 

"I'll finish the reports at home. I need to go take care of me kids," you fight to keep your voice steady.

"That's the thing about you moms, always the martyr, always looking for special treatment cause you let a guy drop a load indoors," he sneers, "and you're just gonna raise a couple of brats to go off and live the same boring lives."

"Stop," you croak.

"If you're gonna cry, just do it," he goads, "huh, maybe it's menopause kicking in early? All that stress–"

"Good night, Mr. Hansen," you say curtly and face the elevator just as the doors slide apart, "I'll have the numbers done. I promise."

"Oh, I know you will," he snickers, "but you still owe me. For being such an understanding boss, you know?"

You turn around and grimace in confusion. Owe him? He winks and smirks back, "say hi to the kiddos for me."

The doors shut and you close your eyes, hanging your head in defeat. You're going to be up all night, less than ready for the review and certainly unprepared for Mr. Hansen. You can only hope by then he finds a new target.

[dbnightingale24]

First, I want to thank everyone who has read, reblogged, or supported my stories. It means more than I’ll ever be able to put into words, truly. Without you all, I wouldn’t feel confident in launching my Patreon page! I’ll still post fanfics, but I’ll also be taking requests, and posting original stories. I hope you all will follow along, and continue to enjoy my stories! Thank you so much; you’ve given me the confidence I needed to do this. I love you!

Here’s the link if you’d like to follow along:

https://www.patreon.com/user?u=113976020&utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

(It’ll be more official soon!)

@fuckingbye @emerald-evans @autumnrose40 @thickania

[shadeysprings]

—One Shots

Deal or No Deal

— You work hard to entice the biggest possible client for your company, but he has his own ideas for you to make him say yes.

[evansbby]

𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Pete Brenner x reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut, SH in the workplace, heavy drug mention, sleazy Pete, heavy misogyny, I can't believe I wrote this, a lot of sex, yeah idek, 18+ minors dni. 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Pete Brenner hires a new assistant. 𝐀/𝐍: I cannot believe I wrote this. For him. Ew. Brb gonna go take a shower. This is pretty bad as well, like the pacing is wack and the reader's personality changes halfway through the fic?? Idek, I did this thing where I changed the scene every time I felt bored. Enjoy, I guess???

“Just so we’re clear, I’m only hiring you because you’re hot.”

He bends down over his desk, sniffing harshly. You stand there nervously watching him as he straightens up, his nose twitching. You catch a glimpse of white beneath he clears his throat and wipes it off. His eyes – a pretty blue – have an almost wild, excited look about them. But the rest of his face is a contradiction… he looks both calculated and amused as he licks his lips and makes his way over to you.

“That means I want to see you in short skirts, dress, that kind of shit, okay? And some pretty makeup.” His eyes dance over your body, taking in your curves. You’d worn a knee-length pencil skirt and white blouse for the interview with him – nothing too scandalous but it did hug your body nicely. Pete seemed to think so, at least, as his gaze remained glued on your cleavage, “Basically, I want you all dolled up because I sure as fuck know there’s no brain up there in your head. I have a real assistant, but you’ll be my other assistant.”

Other assistant. You knew what that meant.

You also know to remain quiet as he leers at you, coming closer till you have to crane your neck to look up at him. His jaw twitches, and his eyes are still glued to your chest. He reaches out, casually unbuttoning the top few buttons of your blouse with just his one hand. The view down your top makes him smirk.

“Tomorrow’s your first day, make sure to wear something sluttier than this. Even the office’s eye candy’s gotta put a little work in, huh, sweetheart?” He gives you a wink as he pats your cheek condescendingly.

You take a deep breath and try to remain calm. You needed this job. You needed the money…

“Yes, Mr. Brenner.”

“Good girl,” he maintains eye contact with you, and it’s hard to look away when his pupils are so blown out. And despite his leery demeanour, he’s got a handsome face, you had to admit. Pretty eyes framed with long lashes, a nice bone structure and strong jawline. His jet-black hair was styled messily – either on purpose or because he kept running his hands through it. He was also tall, his tailored jacket tight around his biceps.

He gives your ass a slap as you leave the room, and you yelp in surprise but continue walking steadily lest you fall over in your high heels.

“See you bright and early tomorrow, sweetheart! I know we’re gonna love working together.”

***

“Ah, fuck yeah, keep going. Mm, just like that. God fucking dammit, you’re such a good little cocksucker, huh?”

Pete’s got one hand firmly carded through your hair, gripping it tightly as he bobs your head up and down on his cock. It’s uncomfortable under his desk, especially with your bare knees rubbing against the hard ground.

You’d showed up to your first day of work today bright and early, in an inappropriately short dress as per your new boss’s request. And Pete had licked his lips hungrily when he’d seen you, dragging you into his office and giving you your first task of the day. Sucking his dick while he sat behind his desk.

“Yeah, that’s right, you little slut, take it. Take my fat daddy dick down your little throat. Fuck yeah,” Pete murmurs. You’d quickly come to realise that Pete was every bit as filthy as you’d assumed he was going to be, spewing out a string of curses every time his mouth opened. He was also rougher than you’d expected, fucking your face relentlessly in a way that had you breathless, your hair a complete mess and your face glistening with sweat.

“Mm, tell me you’re a little cockslut,” He peers down at you with a wolfish grin, taking his dick out of your mouth and tapping your cheek with it not-so-gently.

“ ‘m a cockslut,” you pant, and he slaps you with his cock once more before shoving himself back in your mouth.

“That’s right, just look at those pretty lips wrapped around my cock, I can’t believe–” his voice trails off, and you glance up to see his eyes narrow as he looks out the window of his office and into the hallway. “Ah, shit. My wife’s here. Keep sucking, baby, but be quiet about it.”

He had a wife? You don’t even have time to feel shocked and disgusted with yourself, all you can do is keep bobbing your head up and down as he keeps a firm hold on you.

“PETEY!” A chirpy voice sounds, and you cringe as you hear the door close. She was in this office, while you were giving her husband a blowjob.

“Hey, babe, how’s it hanging?” Pete says casually, his hand leaving your hair as he cracks his knuckles and leans back on his chair. You pray to God his wife doesn’t come any closer, lest you be found out.

She giggles, “Well, come on, silly. You made us lunch reservations at the Rustica Bistro, remember? I got my nails done and everything!”

You hear Pete grimace from above you, either from what his wife has just said or the fact that you’re still blowing him like your life depends on it.

“Ahh, babe, I gotta take a raincheck. You know how it is…” He gestures vaguely at his computer in front of him, “I’ve got a shit ton of work to do, fuck…” He swears under his breath, thrusting his hips upwardly subtly to stuff more of his cock in your mouth.

“Aww, but Pete–”

“No buts, sweetheart. You know I gotta provide for you and the baby, and that means making a few sacrifices here and there,” Pete runs a hand through his hair, and you can see the sweat forming on his brow as you continue to suck him off, trying not to gasp out loud at the fact that he just said he had a baby. “But don’t let those reservations go to waste, sweetie. Why not take what’s-her-name? That broad from accounting?”

“Sally?”

“Yeah, take Sally. Go on, sweetheart, daddy’s busy. I’ll see you at home.”

You’re in awe at how he dismisses his wife, but you inwardly sigh in relief when you hear the clickity clack of her heels followed by the door opening and closing. Pete barks out a laugh, pulling you off his dick as he begins to pump it around his fist.

“That was a close one, huh?”

“Y-You never mentioned that you had a wife! And a child!”

He snorts, cupping your face and angling it so that he’s jacking off over it, a nonchalant look on his face.

“And you accepted a job as the office slut, so I guess we’re both lacking in the morals department, huh, sweetheart?”

***

Being Pete Brenner’s other assistant did have a few perks. Like free reign with his credit card (a separate one that his wife didn’t know about) as well as some nice gifts here and there. Diamond earrings when he was feeling nice; a designer dress when he wanted to be giving. A pearl-encrusted collar when he was on a particularly high power trip.

But the perks came with a lot of degradation. But it’s not like he hadn’t made that clear when he’d offered you the job.

“Now, sweetheart, all you gotta do is refill everyone’s water while us men talk business, alright?”

You nod, straightening out your tight, navy dress while Pete barks out more instructions as he paces around his office. Today was an important meeting about something or the other. You didn’t really understand what it was that Pete did, but you knew it was something to do with pharmaceuticals. You weren’t sure that all their business was legal, but you thought it was best to turn your head the other way when it came to all that.

You stand in the corner of the conference room during the meeting, watching as Pete sits at the head of the table and talks business with a bunch of colleagues. He looks at you and nods slightly, and that’s your cue to walk around and refill everyone’s water with the glass jug in your hand. It’s an easy enough task, but you’re still nervous in your sky-high heels and too-short dress, acutely aware of the way all these middle-aged men leer at you like you’re a piece of candy or an office decoration.

You set the jug down on the table after you’ve finished topping up Pete’s glass, but before you can quietly scurry back to your corner of the room, his large hand wraps around your waist, pulling you into his lap. You almost yelp in surprise, but catch your tongue just in time. You go with the flow, not wanting to cause a scene as Pete casually settles you down on his knee.

You really feel like a decoration now.

“That’s a fine-looking piece of ass you’ve got workin’ for ya, Brenner.” A seedy looking man at the other end of the table grins.

Pete smirks, his hand firmly resting on your bare thigh as you quiver in his lap at the multiple pairs of eyes now staring straight at you. His other hand twirls a bit of your hair round his finger, as if you’re his little doll that he’s finding amusement in showing off and toying with. “She’s a looker, alright. That’s why I hired her, isn’t that right, baby?”

You have no choice but to nod, heat spreading across your cheeks as the whole room erupts in laughter. Pete holds you firmly in his lap throughout the meeting. You try to zone out, since their business and pharmaceutical jargon makes no sense to you, but you keep getting jolted back to reality as Pete continues to fondle you brazenly in front of everyone.

“Don’t think I’d get any work done if I had a broad like her walking around in my office.” A greasy looking man sitting adjacent from you and Pete pipes up.

Pete grins wolfishly, his hand creeping up the hem of your dress while the other one strokes your arm sensually. “Quite the opposite, actually,” he glances at you and winks, “with her around, I get to relieve all my pent-up tension, which makes work a lot easier.”

“Say, Brenner, you look like you gotta relieve some tension right now!” Another guy quips.

Pete smirks, standing up and yanking you up with him, “You’re right, Davidson. I think I do. You gentlemen mind if we take a recess on this meeting?”

His request is met with a chorus of cheerful affirmations, and he drags you off to a small door to the side of the room. The bathroom.

“Th-They’ll all be able to hear us!” You protest as he bends you over the sink, lifting your dress up and giving your bare ass a hard slap.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. It’s hotter with an audience.” He shoves his hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and slipping two fingers inside you, smirking when he pulls them out to see them glistening, “clearly you find it hot too.”

Pete fucks you in the bathroom while the men cheer him on from the next room. And you scrunch your eyes shut and focus on trying not to moan (because he fucked you so good after all). His balls slap against your skin as he thrusts into you over again, alongside a string of curses (he was always very vocal during sex, no matter where you were).

He’s got a smug look on his face when he’s done. The smugness of a man who made a whole roomful of men hear your screams of pleasure. (You’d had to be vocal in the end, you couldn’t help it. Not when he was rubbing your clit and whispering dirty words in your ear, making your cunt squeeze around him as you came all over his cock).

He takes you straight back into the conference room, setting you down on his lap and continuing the meeting as if nothing even happened.

***

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

You do, only for him to cup your cheeks and blow smoke right into your face. You sputter, trying to turn away but Pete’s got other plans. He presses his lips against yours, giving you the headiest kiss you’ve ever experienced, making you feel light-headed.

He laughs, “You fall for it every time.”

You scowl at him, “One day I’m gonna quit working for you.”

He snorts, taking another drag of his cigarette, “Oh yeah, sweetheart? And then what’re you gonna do?”

“Make a name for myself.”

He seems to find that hilarious, throwing his head back and laughing as if you’ve just cracked the funniest joke in the world. You huff, shrugging away from him and going to stand on the other end of the balcony. It was attached to his office and Pete liked to hang out there sometimes, claimed he appreciated the fresh air. As if he didn’t have a cigarette hanging out of his mouth 24/7.

You look out into the city, admiring the bright lights that made the streets come to life at night. The sound of traffic and the mindless buzz of nightlife that had a knack of making people wonder what they were doing with their life. That’s when you feel something hard pressing against your lower back.

“You know, I always wanted to fuck a girl out here.” Pete pushes your hair to one side, kissing the exposed nape of your neck.

“I’d bet a thousand dollars you’d already have done that.”

He chuckles, his hands slipping up and down your body, feeling you up and fondling you in his specifically sleazy way except it turns you on anyways. “After tonight I will have.”

“It’s late. Shouldn’t you be at home with your wife? Or at least your baby?”

He pushes your dress up till he’s got it bunched around your waist, before hooking his fingers on the elastic of your panties and snapping it against your skin. “What, you think you’re gonna peptalk me into having some kind of moral breakthrough or something?” He tugs your panties down your legs and gives your ass a squeeze, “Sweetheart, you know the kind of man I am. And I know exactly the kind of girl you are.”

The kind that lets her boss fuck her outside on his balcony overlooking the city.

“Fuck yeah, shake that fucking ass on my daddy dick. Make daddy cum, fuck!” Pete grips your hair and yanks your head back, biting and sucking at your neck as he fucks you. You grip the iron railing hard, your mind wiped of everything except the pleasure he was administering to you right now.

“Mm, fuck, daddy! Harder, please!” You moan, grinding back against his dick, feeling the pure, delicious agony of him breaking you in two from the inside out.

He releases inside you with a guttural roar in your ear, and you sigh, following suit as you milk him through his orgasm. Your cunt pulsates with your pleasure, and he holds you tight before bringing his cigarette up to your mouth so you can take a drag. You do, before craning your neck and grabbing his face, blowing the smoke straight past his lips as you kiss him.

***

“The fuck do you mean you’re knocked up? Were you not on the motherfucking pill?”

You sigh. You’d been fucking Pete for half a year now, and in that time you’d had the pleasure of getting to know him on a very personal level. His likes, dislikes, his temperament. You knew him well enough to know that he got extremely melodramatic when he was high. Which is why it maybe wasn’t the best decision on your part to break the news to him when he was coked out, but you’d had no choice… Pete’s sober moments were very few and far between these days.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Pete. I’m pregnant. I took three tests.”

“God-fucking-dammit!” He slams his fist down on his desk repeatedly, before the pain proves too much and that’s when he straightens up, running a hand through his already messy black hair. “I already got my hands full with one brat.”

He loved his son, really. You’d seen him enough times with the kid to know that Pete did indeed have a heart when it came to a child of his own flesh and blood.

“Well, congratulations, daddy. In about nine months, you’ll have another one.”

He narrows his eyes, stumbling over to you and grabbing you by the neck. He pushes back, high off his mind yet still much stronger than you. His lips curled and brows furrowed almost accusatorily, he backs you up against the wall, his face inches from yours.

“You,” he sneers, “When did you get so cynical, huh? Where’s the bright-eyed, naïve girl I hired six months ago?”

You roll your eyes, “I don’t know, Pete, maybe your sleaziness and depravity killed her off.”

He glares at you, and you glare back. It’s an intense stare-down that lasts a handful of seconds before you’re on top of each other. Kissing and ripping each other’s clothes off, not caring that the glass windows of his office aren’t covered with the blinds. The receptionist would get a show, but it was nothing she hadn’t seen before. Pete had no shame, and now, neither did you.

“I find pregnant broads sexy as hell,” he tells you, carrying you over to his desk. He sits down on his chair with you on top of him, “so that’s one thing to look forward to.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“So the fuck are you.”

He shoves his dick into you from below, his fingers gripping your hips so tightly you know he’ll leave bruises. He bounces you up and down on his dick like it’s your job – which, well, it is.

“Your tits will get even bigger, that’s another thing to look forward to,” he whispers in your ear, ripping the top of your dress in half and pushing the cups of your bra down. Your breasts spill out and he goes to town on them, burying his face between them, licking, nipping, biting like you’re his drug of choice for the evening.

You’re confused, scared, even. But that won’t stop you from answering back to him, and so, despite the pleasure he’s making you feel, you shoot him a look of disdain.

“Who says I’m gonna stick around long enough for you to see me like that?”

He yanks you forward by your hair, giving you a rough and almost possessive kiss.

“Sweetheart, don’t kid yourself. I intend on keeping your fine ass around, and besides, it’s not like you have anywhere else to go.”

***

“I do.”

Pete’s wife had left him. Something about running away with a hot Australian lifeguard who happened to also have a hefty trust fund. The divorce was settled quickly (Pete had more money than his now ex-wife was even aware of, so she happily took what she thought was an equal half). Pete had one condition, though. His son had to stay with him.

And then six months later, you found yourself walking down the aisle in a dress of ivory lace, saying “I do” to the man who only a year ago had just been your boss. Now you were the new Mrs. Brenner, a mother to be and a stepmother to a two-year-old to boot.

It was a good thing you liked kids.

“You’re lucky, you know that? Fucked your way to the very top.” Pete says, his hand stroking your very pregnant belly.

You giggle, spreading out on the satin sheets below you. They’re soft and white and expensive, covered in rose petals. Pete had gone all out and booked the honeymoon suite at the Four Seasons, which was the least he could do to make you comfortable after you’d gone through that whole wedding ceremony and reception, all pregnant and uncomfortable and all.

“Not the very top,” you muse, “I could leave you just like your first wife did. Leave you for a richer man.”

Pete scoffs, shrugging his jacket off before rejoining you on the bed, “Honey, if you knew how much money I had in my bank account right now, you’d be licking the bottom of my shoe for the foreseeable future.”

You don’t say anything, instead turning your attention to your ring. You hold up your hand so it catches the light, the hefty diamond sparkling expensively. Just a year ago, you couldn’t even fathom having fifty dollars to your name… And now?

You grow distracted by his hand as it sneaks between your legs. Biting your lip, you suppress a moan when his fingers find your clit. All he has to do is circle your bundle of nerves with his pointer finger and you cum, grabbing his bicep and squealing his name, humping your cunt up against his palm like a wanton whore. All while he grins wolfishly at how easily he can make you come undone.

“It’s just ‘cause I’m pregnant,” you say once you’ve caught your breath, causing his expression to sour.

“Please, Mrs. Brenner. You’ve never had anyone as good as your husband. And you never will, ‘cause it’s all me from now on, you got that?”

“Yes, daddy.”

***

“Oh my gosh, you really shouldn’t have!” You squeal, running over to your new candy pink convertible. Pete stands by the hood, looking extremely pleased with himself.

“Only the best for my wife. Now you can do the day-care runs in style.”

You jump into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing a million kisses on his face. “Thank you, daddy! I love it so much.”

He grins, spinning you around a few times before putting you down, “Happy birthday, babe.”

Your four-year-old son and two-year-old daughter come toddling down the front steps of your mansion, squealing and ooh-ing and aah-ing at your new pink car. Pete looks positively beside himself with glee, scooping both his kids up in his arms so they can get a better look at it.

It only took a few months into being married to you for Pete to realise that he liked the family man lifestyle. And you could tell he liked being a provider, liked showering his family with gifts and spending money on you and the babies more than blowing it all on drugs and strip clubs. It was a shame that it took him two marriages and two different baby mamas to realise that, but at least his ex was living it up in Australia, so there was no love lost there.

“We need to come up with a story when people ask us how we met,” you say one evening as the two of you get ready for bed. You’re sitting in front of your vanity, applying cold cream to your face and neck while Pete does God knows what in the background.

“Easy. My gold-digger assistant got herself knocked up and trapped my ass, and now here we are.” Pete smirks, coming up behind you and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Shut up, you jerk. More like, I took advantage of and sexually harassed my poor, innocent assistant, and the least I could do was marry her after I got her pregnant.” You smile, letting him grab your hand and drag you to the bed.

“Okay, poor, innocent assistant. Why don’t you let daddy put another baby inside you tonight?” He asks, pushing you down on the bed and climbing on top of you, his voice thick with lust as he runs a hand through his messy, black hair.

“So you can accuse me of getting knocked up again?”

“Yeah,” He rips your nightie in half, making you squeal, “That’ll ensure I’m trapped with you for another two years at least.”

“Fuck you.”

“You’ve got the dirtiest mouth, Mrs. Brenner. Maybe that’s why I’m in love with you.”

SFJHKASGD THE END!

If you made it till here... thank you! I think I got possessed last night and today so I wrote this. Sorry besties, but please do let me know what you think! Feedback means everything to me!! I love you guys and now back to our regularly scheduled programming of ARI and STEVE!