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yelenasbraid · 8 months ago

Text

take a breather — joe burrow

summary — its a few days after the loss to the chiefs and you and joe decide to go out for dinner. unfortunately, there’s kc fans everywhere

warnings — fem!reader, established relationship, reader gets defensive and starts gets in a fight, fluff, some suggestive comments, mean comments, implied smut

note — not every chiefs fan is like the one in this fic, i know that, but for the sake of this fic the reader interacts with a pretty mean one. also this is SO long y’all oops

THE LOSS TO THE CHIEFS was as shocking as it was devastating. for a while, you thought they were safe. you believed that the bengals would win against the chiefs, their longstanding rivalry. joe talked about how excited he was, he talked about how he was ready to take them on after the grueling practice they had.

so, when the chiefs won by one point, everyone’s heart dropped. anger and frustration swirled around in your head, the cold feeling of sadness making it a sour cocktail. it was a good game, filled with many good highlights and great plays, but you knew that joe was already beating himself up about it.

you tried your best to be there for him, reassure him and help build his confidence back up. the night after the game was the hardest, especially since you both were battling intense emotions.

flashback

the silence that fell between you was thick. you tried your best to remain neutral, to be a grounding force for joe. being home didn’t change that.

he didn’t bother speaking to you as he walked in, making a beeline for the stairs. you stopped in your tracks, trying your hardest not to cry.

“please talk to me,” you begged him softly. you knew that joe took things at his own pace, which normally meant alone. you’ve had to help him realize that he’s not alone, and that you could help share the burden.

“i’m not in the mood for talking, y/n,” he informed you, barely looking at you. you bit your lip and flicked your eyes up to the ceiling to stop the oncoming tears.

“do you want anything to eat?” you asked him, walking into the kitchen.

“no, i don’t.” he answered shortly. you nodded, and as he went to go up the stairs, you went to follow him.

“i want to be alone, just leave me alone, y/n,” he snapped, turning his eyes to you, eyes that were iced over. as much as you hated to do it, leaving him to his head, you inhaled and exhaled slowly.

“ok, i’ll be down here if you need me,” you told him, barely evoking a response out of him. so, that was that.

flashback end

joe did apologize for his behavior, swearing he was going to try his best to keep you with him. ever since that night, he’s done just that. he’s confided in you about more than he ever has, and you were proud of him for being vulnerable.

ever since that night, he’s also been clingy. he never wants you to feel the way you felt that night, the way he made you feel.

“we’re going on a date tonight,” joe announced as he walked in the door from practice. you looked up at him from your spot on the couch, raising an eyebrow.

“what?”

“we’re going on a date tonight, you know, the thing normal couples do,” he playfully reminded you. you smirked, putting a bookmark in the book you were reading and closed it. it was refreshing to see his eyes lit up, to see how he glowed with a renewed sense of hope.

“alright, where are we going, ya know, as a totally normal couple?” you played along with the joke, standing up from the couch and walking over to him.

“there’s a nice place downtown, the one we always say we want to go to but never do because of how busy we are,” he excitedly told you. seeing his smile again after the two losses was refreshing, but it also just made you fall even more in love with him.

“oh yeah, the place that apparently has really good burgers,” you smiled up at him, crossing your arms over your chest. “you asking me on a date, burrow?”

“why yes i am,” joe chirped. he was chipper, and you knew that he was taking the losses hard, but you also knew that he couldn’t feel down for long. joe knew his job for the next game, and he was going to finish it.

“then i accept,” you smirked, and in response joe leaned down and pressed a kiss to your lips.

“good. i’m gonna get a shower, then the bathroom is all yours. we’ll leave around 6,” he told you as he made his way towards the stairs. his timeframe gave you about 2 hours to get ready, which was plenty of time.

“sounds good,” you replied, feeling butterflies build in your gut. despite having dated since your time at lsu, you still got butterflies whenever you and joe would go on a date. you guessed that feeling never goes away.

—

about an hour and half later, joe is dressed and ready sitting on the edge of the bed. you, on the other hand, are putting final touches on your outfit for the evening. it was something breathable, but cute. you put your earrings in and fluffed your hair. once you were happy with your look, you applied your perfume and put on your shoes.

“damn mamas,” joe commented as he watched you emerge from the bathroom. a blush crept up on your cheeks as you walked towards him.

“hope that’s a good thing,” you hummed as he stood up. he was dressed in a black button up, jeans, and platform van-type shoes.

“oh it definitely is,” he mused, leaning down and pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. he knew he’s been clingy, but he also knew you didn’t mind. ever since he got snappy with you, he’s never wanted to sound like that ever again. be knew there’d be losses, especially tough ones, but he needed to work on how he processed through it. he couldn’t drag you through the mud too.

“mmm good,” you hummed. it was in that moment you realized that you could stay with him all night, in that bedroom, on that bed and not go on a date. but, dates were rare during the season, and plus dates were fun. you and joey always had fun on your dates.

“we should get going, huh?” joe asked, almost sounding disappointed.

“i’m hungry, so yeah,” you chuckled, making joe crack that beautiful smile of his. you both walked out to the car, joe opening your door of course, and he got in the driver’s seat. he pulled out of the driveway and headed towards the restaurant.

—

the restaurant wasn’t packed, but it had a decent amount of people in it. the hum of conversations drew you in, but what pulled you in further was the sweet smell of food.

you two were quickly seated and ordered your drinks. you looked at the menu, browsing the different options.

“this all looks amazing,” you commented as your eyes saw a pasta section of the menu.

“if i were like, infinitely hungry, i’d get the whole menu,” joe agreed, and you snorted.

“ok, joey,” you laughed, shaking your head.

“what? think about it, if you never got full and have an infinite amount of space in your stomach, you could realistically have several meals in a sitting,” his eyes grew wide with this theory, and you loved whenever he got like this. it was the cutest — and hottest — thing ever, well, for the most part.

“ok, but what about your intestines? they’d be begging for mercy,” you replied as your drinks were settled in front of you. you ordered your choices of meals, gave the waitress your menus, and continued talking.

“ok well in a perfect world they wouldn’t be,” he replied, sass evident in his tone. you laughed, shaking your head as you took a sip of your water.

“i need to pee, i’ll be back,” you informed him, standing up from the booth.

“speaking of intestines,” he commented, earning a glare.

“that’s your bladder,” you whispered as you walked off. joe only rolled his eyes as he sipped his water. he watched as you disappeared into the bathroom, and patiently waited upon your return.

a few minutes later, he caught movement in his peripheral and he flicked his eyes over, hoping to see you. he did, but with a very different expression on your face.

“excuse me?” you seethed, your eyes wide with anger. the girl you were standing in front of had the audacity to speak ill of joe in front of you, but also to speak ill of you. in front of you.

“you heard me the first time, i said your boyfriend would have played better if he’d been getting taken care of at home,” the girl replied. it only enraged you further, especially since she had no right to be involved in yours and joe’s private life.

“and what does your boyfriend do? sit at home and criticize the guys he’ll never be?” your words were just as venomous, your adrenaline driving you even further.

“for all i care, i hope he tears a ligament again. all this hype around joe burrow needs to stop, or maybe he just needs to retire already,” she kept going, and you’ve never seen red before until that moment. this girl had no idea the rehab joe went through, the mental blocks he had to overcome just to get to this point.

words weren’t enough to voice your anger, the rage that fueled you. you laughed, allowing some of that tension to release, but also because you thought it was hilarious some random woman was criticizing joe burrow.

you took a step towards her, your hands curling into fists. you saw what joe went through, you knew of the dark place he went to after his injury. she didn’t, and it pissed you off that she wanted him to go back there again.

“i hope he has another season ending injury, so for once, other teams can have a chance and stop listening to bengals fans’ whining,” she continued on, and the more she did, the more her words added fuel to the fire. it was the final thread in a rubber band, and you snapped.

you shoved her away from you, your eyes hard and angry. you went for another, your muscles tensing to make sure this one hurt, but strong arms pulled you back. you knew it was joe because of his scent wafting over you, but you didn’t much care.

“don’t you dare,” you growled, fighting against the hold joe had on you. your hands tried to pry joe’s arms off of you, but your attempts were futile. what distracted you for just a moment was the feeling of his muscles rippling under his skin as you went to shove him off.

“i bet you got scared when that helmet came off, huh? well, i wasn’t,” she kept mouthing off, and you knew she was doing it on purpose. she wanted to see how far you’d go.

“it’s nice to say that when your team gets paid by the refs to win games!” you hissed, body tensing with every word. neither of you were going to back down, and joe could see that. he’s never seen you this angry, he’s never seen you go after someone like that.

“walk away, love,” he calmly told you, whispering in your ear. he moved to stand beside you, using one arm to hold you place instead of two. you strained against him, anger radiating from every pore. your straining made him eventually wrap his other arm around you again.

“y/n,” he looked down at you, and even though you weren’t trying to plow through him, you weren’t exactly backing down. it was admirable, really, how you went to war for him. you didn’t have to, but you did. you would defend him until your dying breath, even though he never asked for that. he just didn’t want you to get hurt.

“listen to your boyfriend y/n, this is a fight you’d lose anyway,”

“you’re not helping,” joe snapped, turning his eyes towards the girl. she didn’t seem to get the memo, not entirely caring that joe was addressing her. you, however, did notice. the way his jaw was clenched, the way his muscles were contracted, it was hot.

“why’s that?” you retaliated, anger still coursing through your veins. joe was trying to keep you from getting away from him. it wasn’t helping that the other girl kept moving towards you.

“because, unlike your boyfriend, you’re too pussy to fight anyone,” she was so confident it killed you. you managed to slip out of joe’s grasp, lunging for this girl, but joe caught you by the bicep. he drew you back, pressed a firm hand to your chest and walked you back.

“that’s enough,” he sternly told you, thankful you were walking with him. your eyes flicked to meet his, just for a moment, and in that moment you were the most turned on you’d been that whole day. feeling his hand firmly but gently guide you back, hearing the sternness in his words, it made that all too familiar ache begin to take hold in your stomach.

that feeling didn’t last long though. your irritation and anger came back the second you made eye contact with the girl again, wearing that obnoxious red jersey. you wanted to say something back to the girl, but no words were coming to your mind. your emotions were all over the place as joe walked you back. you watched the girl as her own group walked her away. they should’ve done that earlier.

you two left the restaurant, and once you were alone, you slipped away from joe’s grip.

“what the hell was that?” joe asked, now facing you, “i have never seen you that angry,”

“you heard what she said! she-she was saying all of these things about you, about how she wished you snapped your ligament again and retired! i couldn’t just let that slide!” you argued back, your adrenaline still on a high.

“you could have! people say stupid shit!”

“i saw what you went through! i’ve seen you rise above it, i’ve seen you grow and to have her laugh in the face of that is disgusting!” you defended, tears now pooling in your eyes. you watched as he processed, and you felt a tear drip down your cheek. there was a beat of silence. joe sighed, walked up to you and wiped the escaped tear with the pad of his thumb.

“you didn’t have to defend me, but, thank you for doing so. as much as i appreciate it, and don’t mind at all seeing you get fired up, i just don’t want you to get hurt,” he hummed, cupping your cheek with his hand. you sniffled, feeling your body crash from the adrenaline rush.

“i know,” you exhaled, “but next time we play the chiefs, we need to pummel them into the ground,” you sniffled, and joe just chuckled, bringing you into his arms.

“we will,” he promised, kissing the top of your head, “were you really scared when my helmet came off?” he asked, and you looked up at him in disbelief.

“yes, i was terrified,” you admitted, burying your head in his chest. you knew the likely hood of a concussion increased just because he played football, but you knew how scary they were. you’ve heard of too many players who’s seasons ended because of a concussion, or even worse, their lives ended.

“i’m ok, i promise,” he assured you. as he held you, his remembered the look you gave him earlier in the restaurant.

“what was that look for earlier?” he asked.

“what look?” you mumbled against his chest.

“that look, the look you give whenever you’re feeling a certain way,” he answered, causing you to part from him. he didn’t miss it, how could he? he’s seen that look several times before, but he’s never seen it in this context.

“oh…”

“oh what?” he chuckled, watching as your cheeks flushed.

“it’s nothing, just pure emotion,” you lied. you were feeling a number of things, and arousal was just one of them.

“you liked that, huh?” joe gave you a cocky smirk, the kind that could get you into trouble. his tone didn’t help either.

“oh leave me alone,” you playfully shoved him, walking towards the car. he wrapped his arm around your waist, kissing the side of your head.

“i would be lying if i said i wasn’t also turned on,” he hummed in your ear, breaking the hard exterior you had on.

“is that so?” you mused, casting a look up at him, “remember how it feels to not be sore, love, because after tonight you will be,” you hummed, your eyes darkening with desire. your tone sent him into overdrive, not to mention your confidence. he wasn’t sure if he was going to make it home or not. he wouldn’t be necessarily complaining if he didn’t.

he was in for a long night.

YOWZERS this is long. not sure how i feel about it BUT it’s probably the longest one i’ve written, so c’est la vie. but what inspired this was joe holding back ja’marr at the game on sunday and i went crazy with it. enjoy!

#joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagines #joe burrow imagine #nfl imagine

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suguru-getos · 1 year ago

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Hi En I had an idea which I can’t get off my mind it’s eating me alive it’s making me pounce on my pillow and screech wildly. Hear me out- bully Getou with a who did this to you moment 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨

oh my goddd ‼️ 🥵 this sounds like such a good idea, especially with bully!geto 🙈

-> who did this to you? — geto suguru

summary: bully!sugu notices you were also becoming a target for others & kicks ass for you x (comments and reblogs are appreciated)

just because suguru thought he had free reign over you, so did another brat from his class. you were his junior after all and only satoru knew that he actually doted on you. suguru was getting restless for the day, he hasn’t seen his pretty little babygirl today. sure, he loves the look when your eyes try to evade eye contact from his stern gaze. when he says you need to be put in place for looking so delectable. when he teasingly calls you a little whore for suguru’s attention.

you deflected him so many times but his persistence has led to your ignorance. though he can’t find you anymore. his best friend satoru is quick though, “she’s near the store room hallway.” he hums, shrugging. why were you there? were you trying to run from suguru? he scoffed, pouting a little and ushering towards the known location.

finally, what he saw made his heart clutch a little. it’s december, you’re shivering from cold because someone had drenched your white shirt, your red bra is visible from it instantly and you hug yourself. you want to cry but you know that wouldn’t really help you. so you just sit there, shivering and spasming and knowing you’d catch a fever soon.

the echoes of his footsteps distract you instantly, you turned back, watching him and wanting to kill yourself. suguru would make such fun of you for being so miserable & looking so miserable. so weak and pathetic. “you think i did this for your attention too? yeah i did it, now leave me alone.” you managed to croak with your chattering teeth.

he hums, cupping your face and blood boiling when he found you cold. “let’s get you a blanket first, then you will go to the infirmary and change it. you’ll catch a cold and fall sick & we don’t want that do we? we have our exams soon, little girl.”

you can’t help but nod in affirmation, feeling a little taken cared of by him. though you think it was done by suguru… “yeah, don’t act like you didn’t ask your classmates to put ice cold water on me.” you were glossy eyed and felt pathetic. “you’ve let others joined in your-”

“who did this?” suguru was stern, almost unrelenting with the way his brows furrowed and his jaw tightened. you wince at the demeanour change and looked up at him, pouting with your glossed eyes.

“stop pretending-”

“i asked you something little one. who did this?” he asked once more, a little tender. “who did this to you?”

you parted your lips to finally mumble that you infact, don’t know who these people were. you have seen them around satosugu and hence you know they are his classmates. suguru sighs, his rage knew no bounds. his pretty little girl only he could bully, was taken lightly because of his behavior. he hums, carrying you princess-style, as a statement that you’re not to be fucked with. the most popular guy in school was whipped and carrying you as if you were his prized possession. the school saw it, everyone saw it. you… saw it.

you had time to change and when you were done, satoru brought you hot chocolate, smiling and headpatting you. “yer going to be fine little girl. i know suguru wouldn’t let anyone irritate ya! only us!” he grins, sitting beside you.

“now, he’s gone to bring all the bastards and bootlickers around us, so you can recognize them and let us deal with it, easy? no?” satoru smiles, giving you some comfort as you nodded. “mm, yeah…”

and suguru did bring them, the people who did this to you looked terrified, the same way you felt around suguru in the beginning. only suguru never really gave you any reason to… you thought he’d hit you for rejecting him but he never did. never raised a voice on you. but yes; loomed around you, commented on your body, your face, everything… suguru was a piece of shit with morals. yeah — that’s how you’d label him.

you pointed at the guys who gave the mere explaination before getting their ass brutally whopped in front of you that they thought suguru did it, which gave them a free pass to. while their noses bled and they mumbled apologies from suguru’s kicks and sickly behavior of - “sorry, she can’t hear you.”

you heard him mumble, “she’s mine to toy with, you fuckers can’t touch her or i’ll rip your hands and legs out.” suguru geto was indeed, a piece of shit with morals.

#geto suguru #geto imagines #geto fluff #geto x reader #geto x reader fluff #bully geto x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk drabble #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #stsg #stsg x reader #stsg x reader poly

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sacredsorceress · 2 months ago

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RAAAHHHH I LOVE YOUR WOLVERINE ROOMMATE WORKS, okay thats it i wish u a great day for feeding us 🙏

AHHHH thank you so much!! I'm so happy that you're enjoying them!! All of the love on the posts and in my inbox is making my heart so full <3 Enjoy these hcs..

°☆Roommate!Worst!Wolverine HCs☆°

ask box | logan howlett masterlist

Logan is not the type of person to do dishes as soon as he’s done eating, but he will do them, just… later. Once he’s done he’ll leave them in the sink “to soak” or whatever and then go about his day. But do not be mistaken: he hasn’t forgotten about them. If Logan hears you go into the kitchen, turn on the faucet and put soap on the sponge, he’ll call from the other room to “knock it off! don’t touch ‘em.”

Even your own dishes, he’ll whistle at you to get your attention and shake his head, ushering you to go sit down and do something else because “this is his job, and have a little faith in (him), will you?”

He’ll do them at night before he goes to bed so you wake up to a fresh kitchen.

Hate to say it, but seeing the state of him in DP&W, he’s probably messy.

In the beginning of your arrangement, he’d be very conscious of his messes: Logan would clean up his dishes the second he was done, wipe down wet spots the condensation from his beer bottles left behind, grab his laundry from the dryer the moment it was done-

But naturally as he got more comfortable he wouldn’t race to do those things- not out of disrespect for you, but because he wasn’t scared of you tossing him to the curb because he didn’t put the salt shaker back.

He’d always clean up before you noticed though and if you had to ask him to do something (like if you were doing your own laundry and noticed his clothes in the dryer) he’d feel so guilty and be on his feet in a second.

Logan would 100%, absolutely buy ingredients you didn’t put on the list so you could bake.

Whether it was brownies, cookies, bread or something fancier, you had baked him this thing one time and he has had a consistent craving for it ever since. However, Logan wasn’t just going to flat out ask you to make them- that would be rude- he wanted you to bake them of your own accord. And is it really that wrong if he nudged you towards the inclination to bake it by having eggs on hand you didn’t need? Don’t think so.

“What’s that smell?” He asked, coming in the door, knowing perfectly well what it was.

“Oh I figured I’d bake some of those cookies,” You said, wiping your hand on a dishrag. “We had some eggs on hand I didn’t want to go to waste… you like them right? I can’t eat them all myself.”

He felt like a kid on Christmas morning.

Logan would never have guests, but he didn’t mind if you did. If anything, despite his grumpy demeanour, he would get such a kick out of you having your friends over.

“I can’t believe you’re fucking the wolverine.” Your friend said, taking a sip from her glass of wine.

Logan, who had been laying in bed reading the paper from yesterday, sat up.

“Oh my god!” You gasped. “Stop talking so loud. We’re not fucking! We’re friends!”

“Don’t act like I didn’t see you ogling him earlier when his shirt rode up.” She said in a hushed voice, wagging her finger at you. “If he asked, you’d be all over him in a second.”

Logan raised his eyebrow, listening- waiting on what you said next.

You frantically glanced down the hallway that led to his bedroom.

“I’m going to kill you!”

Whenever you told him you were having friends over, Logan would make it a point to stay home. He’d wait until the end of the night when your friends’ speech had started to slur and then swoop in to save the day, offering to drive your friends home.

Did he care about everyone’s safety? Sure. But mostly he just wanted brownie points with you.

“C’mon, here’s your purse.” Logan sighed, picking your particularly drunk friend off the floor. “Let’s get you home.”

“Y/n, I think I’m in love with your roommate.”

If she hadn’t been your friend, you would’ve felt a searing jealously burn through you. Instead, you had enough alcohol in your system that you felt like air. With a giggle you leaned your weight on Logan, jabbing your finger in her face.

“Hey, he’s mine!” You hiccuped. “Get in line.”

And that was worth Logan sitting in his room the entire night; even during that ten minutes where he had to listen to your friend go on and ON about how she’d just kill to sleep with the Deadpool.

If you were drunk, Logan would leave a glass of water and pain relievers on your bedside table, ready for you when you woke up.

When Logan came home to you having fallen asleep on the couch he’d do one of two things:

1. He’d shut the television off and urge you up from the couch, holding you as you shuffled your way to bed.

“C’mon, honey, bed time.”

2. He’d grab the blanket from his room and drape it over you, tucking the edges into the couch and pushing away the coffee table so you didn’t hit it when you woke up.

He’d have to physically restrain himself from giving you a kiss on the forehead. Instead he’d settle for lovingly shaking his head at you, triple checking the locks and heading to bed himself.

He would NOT check the mail. Ever.

He's so lucky he pays rent to you because if it weren't for you and your religious checking of the mail box, the two of you would be screwed.

Logan would go onto the sidewalk or up to the roof to smoke. Regardless of your feelings about smoking, he wouldn't want to hurt you by having you ingest his second-hand smoke. Maybe it was the fact that he would never have to worry about getting ill, or how madly in love with you he was, but your safety and health was his utmost priority. You were fragile. Logan wouldn't be able to take it if you got sick because of him.

Built in handy-man.

God forbid something happens to your car. Now you have to watch Logan, shirtless, on a hot, summer day climb beneath the car to fix it; grunting as he slides beneath it and back out so you can hand him the next tool. Oh nooo!!!!

No, but really. Leaky sink? He's on it. Wobbly chair leg? He's the man for the job. Logan would actually be offended if you called a plumber or repairman.

"What're you doing?" He'd ask, seeing you on the phone. "Gimme that." Pulling the phone to his ear, he'd swat you away. "Forget what she said. I'm handling it. What? Yes, I'm sure."

When you weren't home in the winter, Logan would turn off the heat and pop open a window, getting in some fresh air.

Giving Logan a "Best Roommate Ever" mug for his birthday. He'd smile so wide- something he only did for you- and proceed to start every day with it. He was hoping that someday, though, he could upgrade from roommate to something more.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Thank you for reading! My ask box is always open to chat about our favourite MCU guys <3

#logan #logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #wolverine fanfiction #wolverine headcanons #wolverine hcs #logan howlett headcanons #logan howlett hcs #logan fanfiction #worst!wolverine #deadpool and wolverine #logan howlett fluff

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turcott3 · 11 months ago

Text

the set up

cole caufield x fem! reader

warnings?: alcohol, cursing, kissing, smut, unprotected sex, public sex

masterlist

“truth.” you spoke aloud. you were at emma’s bachelorette party, one day before the rehearsal and you were all drunk playing truth or dare like teenagers.

“i know you have a crush on one of the players, who is it?” she asks inquisitively.

“well i’ve always had a little crush on caufield.” you reply with a shrug and a light smile on your face.

“oh really?” emma giggles.

“yeah, i mean he’s just so happy all the time and he’s really handsome, how could i not like him?” you reply taking another sip of your drink.

“i mean yall would be cute honestly.” she continues, texting someone quickly on her phone.

“who ya texting?” steph asks her next to you.

“just brendan, making sure he’s not blackout drunk, you know.” she laughs, knowing the boys were also having their party today.

“oh also, i’ll have your bridesmaid and groomsmen pairings done in the morning.” emma speaks up shutting her phone off. the rest of the night was spent partying, thinking in the back of your mind that you had just admitted your crush on cole to your best friend.

“hello?” you groaned into the phone, a call from emma waking you up.

“did you see my text?”

“no i just woke up, i need ibuprofen before i stare at a bright screen.” you laugh lightly.

“oh did i wake you? i’m so sorry.”

“no no it’s fine, i needed to get up, ill read it in a sec.” you reply.

“okay thanks, see you in a few hours y/n!” she says.

“bye love.” you reply, ending the call and getting up, digging for your pills. you popped two before opening your phone back up to read her text. as you ran across your name you almost choked on your drink.

“cole?” you question starkly, eventually leading to a sigh.

“of course i’m with him.” you groan, now feeling pressure to look flawless to maybe impress him. you knew that you’d found him attractive for a while but you had zero clue how he felt toward you.

after many hours of getting ready and making sure your rehearsal dress was perfectly wrinkle-less, you finally were able to leave your hotel room and make your way to the rehearsal venue.

“y/n!” emma yells as you step through the door, running up to hug you.

“hope you enjoy your pairing, yall two are sitting over there for dinner.” she winks pulling away.

“you’re stressing me girl.” you laugh nervously, sitting at the small two top table by yourself. much to your demise, you didn’t get much time to prepare as cole walked into the room a mere 5 minutes later, finding his way to his seat.

“how’ve you been? i haven’t seen you in a while.” cole asks smiling.

“oh i’ve been great, how about you?” you ask, picking at your manicure.

“better now that i’m here.” he replies, turning to face the couple as they were about to speak, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“hey guys so, before we get to eating dinner i just wanted to go over like the order of how everything’s gonna go just so we’re all prepared for tomorrow. and i won’t be mad that it’s not perfect, it’s not supposed to be. but if we don’t have any fun whatsoever, then we’ve failed our mission of being ‘the gallaghers’ so let’s hope we can do that at least.” emma spoke loudly amongst the room. she spoke for a few minutes just running through the order of how everyone is gonna walk out, you and cole being the third “couple”.

“and one last thing, i’m not making you guys sit at separate tables, i sat you with your pairing just because i didn’t like how it looked on the seating chart so, basically you’re attached at the hip all night. sorry.” she laughs, you knew she was particular in not wanting the wedding to be old school and formal.

“you think you got that all down?” you ask, trying to make it seem like you weren’t anxious, and it was starting to work. your nerves were beginning to ease as your anxiety seemed to remember that cole wouldn’t hurt a fly.

“i think i do. and we’re about to practice so that’ll be the test.”

“i’m nervous for tomorrow though.”

“whys that?” he asks, taking a bite of the plate that was sat in front of him.

“what if i like trip on my dress or like sneeze. i’m just scared ill ruin it.” you admit.

“it’ll be fine, you’re just over thinking it.” he replies and you nod knowing he’s right.

“that reception is gonna make it worth it though.” you giggle.

“oh absolutely, that’s gonna be the best part.” he replies

“and you’ll dance with me right?” he asks, with a hopeful smile on his face.

“oh um,” you pause finishing the sip you were about to take, “yeah of course i will.”

“great, i was hoping you would.”

you’d spent a vast majority of the night getting to know cole, which you loved doing. he’s an easy going guy who’s very sweet and respectful, which you adored. you went to bed tonight pondering on what the day would bring the two of you. you could feel the flirting between the two of you all evening.

the next morning, you woke up feeling refreshed. you went over the details of the wedding in your head over and over until you didn’t miss a word. you grabbed onto your garment and makeup bag and fled the room, rushing to be by your best friends side as she got ready for her big day.

“so you nervous?” you ask.

“girl no, i already know im saying yes.” she laughs as she sits in the chair being dolled up by her make up artist.

“oh that’s good.” you replied unpacking your things beginning to get yourself ready with the girls. the time came quickly. it seemed like minutes passed by between the time you finished your hair to the time you were stood with the guy you’ve had a crush on for a year.

“you okay? you’re fidgety.” cole asks quietly.

“oh uh, yeah i’m okay. just nervous.” you say, his hand then softly rubbing up and down your back.

“don’t be nervous, you’re gonna be great. if you trip ill catch you. i’m here.” he replies reassuringly as you flash him a weak smile.

“thank you.”

“of course, and you look beautiful by the way.” he says before locking arms with you, prepared to walk down the aisle. you made it down without any trips and appreciated cole going the extra mile to help you up a couple of stairs. you all stood on your respective sides, admiring the couple between you, sharing occasional glances with cole from across the altar. selfishly, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and how kind he was to you just moments prior.

the reception started about 30 minutes ago and you’re already 3 wine glasses deep with cole. you’d been dancing for a while and finally made your way back to the table, still littered with the others. you both had grown to be decently drunk and were getting touchy with cole, which is something you wouldn’t DARE to have done about 45 minutes ago.

“cole is need to pee, will you come with me and hold my dress?” you ask, sporting proud puppy dog eyes.

“yes, come on.” he replies standing up reaching his hand out to you, you found your way to the, luckily, single stall restroom. you locked the door quickly and turn to face him.

“i actually don’t have to pee.”

“i know.”

“you do?”

“yes, you’ve been making it obvious.” he giggles.

“what do you mean obvio-“ you start and are cut off by his lips harshly on yours, but in a way you enjoy. it was a quick change in environment, the fun had subsided and all you wanted to know was how he felt buried deep inside you. you felt yourself grow wet at his hands grazing down your back and onto your ass. his lips trailed to your neck, nipping and sucking on the skin before returning back to your lips after a long moment.

“i don’t wanna ruin your make u-“ he starts.

“shut up and fuck me caufield.” you reply interrupting him, a skill you’d both acquired in the last two minutes. cutting him off. a look of shock briefly flashes across his face before a smirk takes over.

“are you sure?” he asks, his hands placed on your waist.

“what do you mean? did you not hear me?”

“no i mean are you sure you wanna do it here?”

“yes, i want you right fucking now cole, and maybe again later when you’re staying in my room with me.” you reply and he smirks, turning you around and bending you over the sink. he assists you in pulling the short train on youryour long skirt over your ass, pushing your soaked lace thong to the side.

“so wet already?” he asks dragging a quick finger through your soaked core.

“mhm.” you reply biting your lip. you looked down at his pants in the mirror as he quickly unbuttoned his dress pants, rubbing himself hard very quickly. you bit your lip as you watched him line his hard cock up with your entrance.

“nuh uh, eyes up here.” he says using his hand to push your chin back up, locking eyes with him as he ran his leaning tip through your wet folds.

“cole we have to be fast.” you complain, as if you weren’t enjoying the teasing. a sigh of relief left your mouth as he buried himself deep inside you, his tip brushing your g-spot instantly, your eyes rolling back.

“oh fuck.” you whimper, realizing you are in a very public place and have to make sure you keep your voice down. you mentally acknowledge the fact that you have no choice but to be fast in this moment, wanting to get the job done quickly. in thinking, you fucked yourself back onto him, colliding in the middle.

“god fuck-“ he grunts, placing his hands firmly on your ass cheeks, thrusting quickly, letting the fabric of your dress muffle the sound of your skin clapping.

“you’re so tight y/n.” he says, almost speeding up his already decent pace.

“oh my god cole, that’s it right there.” you whisper, tears forming in your eyes as you collapsed further over the sink. gently, he wrapped his arm around your chest pulling you up, deepening the angle of his thrusts, hitting your g-spot right on the head with each thrust.

“fucking god, i’m gonna cum.” you whine, a tear slipping from your eye.

“come on baby, cum for me. i will too yeah?” he asks with eyebrows raised in the mirror and you nod as the knot unravels in your stomach, shockwaves shooting through your body rapidly as he filled you to the brim with his milky climax, fucking you all the way through both of your highs.

“i can’t believe we just did that.” you sighed out, catching your breath.

“me either.” he chuckles behind you, pulling out slowly.

“oh fuck, here, stay right there.” he says observing the mess he made between your legs. he grabs a few sheets of toilet paper, carefully wiping you clean, tossing them in the toilet and pulling your panties back over your core.

“my eyes.” you groan looking in the mirror.

“let me see.” he replies and you turn around. he licks his fingers to fix the smudges under your eyes and around your lips, dabbing the sweat off your forehead with a paper towel.

“do i look okay?” you ask, pulling the dress back down.

“just as gorgeous as before.” he replies, readjusting his pants, making sure everything’s in straight.

“okay you ready?” he asks holding onto the door knob.

“wait hold on, can i ask you something?”

“yeah of course.”

“will you come stay with me tonight? like in my room?” you ask boldly, the buzz beginning to wear off.

“if that’s okay, yes of course i will.”

“it’s more then okay.” you smile lightly, wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing a firm kiss to his lips.

“good, then i can fuck you right.” he mumbles on your lips, kissing you again.

“woah fuck y/n i’m sorry.” he says as you pull away.

“what what’s wrong?” you reply nervously and he turns you by your hips to the mirror, using his hand to turn your head to the side, exposing the dark hickey he left on your neck.

“honestly, it’s fine, really.”

“are you sure?”

“yes cole it’s fine, and besides you’ll be littered in them tomorrow morning.” you wink, kissing him one last time as you turn the doorknob. he grabs your short dress train of the floor, carrying it as you walked out of the bathroom. you hear a chuckle a few feet away from you, realizing nick was standing there and definitely watched the two of you enter the bathroom.

“emma!” you shout as cole lets go of your dress, taking your hand as you jogged over toward her.

“we’ve been looking for you.” emma replies with a smirk on her face.

“oh uh, i just had to go to the bathroom and there was a line.”

“yep mhm, a line.” she laughs, turning your chin to the side, high fiving her husband.

“what?” you ask.

“bitch, what do you mean what? yall just fucked in true bathroom at my wedding and now you’re holding hands. oh brendan we have outdone ourselves.”

“what?”

“girl, i put you with him so that THIS would happen. nick was our spy, great help.”

“you wanted us to fuck at your we-“

“well that isn’t EXACTLY what we had in mind, i was thinking like a kiss during a slow dance on the floor but this? this is fucking gold.” she laughs hugging you, as you stood confused as ever.

“so this was a set up?” you scoff.

“well, yes.” brendon pokes in.

“thanks gally.” cole laughs, a soft hand wrapping around your hip.

“now yall go have fun.” emma says waving the two of you off.

“what a night.” you sigh, collapsing into your bed, cole right beside you.

“yes for real, we really got set up.”

“i’m not mad about it.” you reply.

“me either, i’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while.”

“why didn’t you, i’ve had a crush on you for like a year.” you laugh.

“yeah well, now we fucked in a bathroom at a wedding, i’d say that is quite the stride.” he smiles widely at you.

“i’m fucking exhausted. i would totally love to stay up and fuck all night but i feel like maybe we should sleep it off and then maybeeeeeeee fuck all morning?” you giggle.

“whatever you want baby.” he smiles, his thumb grazing over your cheek lightly, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips

“god you make it so hard not to just wanna fuck you like a damn bunny right fucking now.” you say and he busts out laughing.

“let’s go to sleep, come on love.” he says tucking the two of you under the covers.

“we can fuck like bunnies in the morning okay?”

“okay.” you pout, poking your bottom lip out.

“goodnight pretty girl.” he says softly.

“good night pretty boy.” you smile as he presses a light kiss to your nose.

#cole caufield #cole caufield imagine #cole caufield smut #cole caufield x reader #montreal canadiens #nhl #nhl imagine #turcs’ talk

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katerinasas · 5 months ago

Text

a busy mind 🩰

draco malfoy x fem!reader

in which draco malfoy helps calm his girlfriend before O.W.L.S

a/n : finals are coming up so here we are! i could use a baddie wizard telling me i’m smart and everything will be okay + during this stressful season i think we could all use someone to be soft with us🙂‍↔️

an anxious mind consumed you as you sat next to draco in the library. mid day was turning into afternoon and you were still in no position to leave, biting your quill and staring down at your potions assignment. how was it you’d been excellent at the subject until you were about to leave hogwarts? of course the plane would go down when it really started to count. it seemed even snapes obvious favouritism toward you couldn’t save you now.

your marks were everything. not just to you, but to your parents. to them, they were all you are. bitten nails, crease between your brows, a deep frown. how was draco, the person who knew you best, not going to notice? you sigh, knowing you've skipped more meals than you could count and spent so many hours in this library and yet you were still not where you felt you should be.

“hey,” he said in a whisper. craning his neck down he gave a small smile. “what’s going on inside that head of yours?”

your blank stare remained for a moment before finally speaking. “ ‘s nothing,” you murmured. but of course, he could not accept that answer.

"why won't you just let me help you? i'm… decent at herbology. even better at potions. and i'm an even better teacher." he winked at you, pulling a scoff from your lips.

“shut up.”

his pale hand slid over the book, covering the words to make you look up at him. “how about you take a break, hm?”

“not everyone woke up already knowing everything they needed, draco.”

if you were anyone else, draco would’ve given a snarky reply and been gone but you were… you. “alright, you’re done.” his chair scraped against the floor as he stood up. draco laid a firm hand on your shoulder as your face fell into your hands, his other one stacking your books and holding them under his arm. “c’mon. blaise and theo are studying in the great hall, my dorms empty.”

“this is important, draco.”

the blonde boy raised an eye brow as he put your potions and herbology books into your bag. “you know what else is important?” he asked, hands lifting you up by your rib age. “rest. and time with your boyfriend.”

swinging your bag now full of books over your shoulder you sigh, only agreeing to go because you plan on studying at his desk. “i rest and i spent plenty of time with you. i still have homework-“

“which i will do.” draco’s warm, comforting hand guided you through the dimly lit library, resting on the small of your back. “i’ll get it all done for you and then i’ll help you with whatever you need help with.”

the corridors were cold and empty, most students hunkered down in the library or the great hall. christmas trees shined down the normally dreary corridors and snow fell outside of the windows. “you will?”

“after you sleep for at least an hour and eat something,” draco said softly, his footsteps slower then usual to keep up with hers. he shushed her protest again, “y/n you’re smart, and dedicated, and whether you believe it or not you are prepared. it’ll all be okay.”

he whispered the password to the slytherin common room, hand falling from her back as she walked in first. the common room was busy, people on couches with open books and a quills. “go on,” he whispered gently. the two of you went up the spiraled staircase silently, footsteps padding up as the conversation downstairs died out.

a singular firework, no doubt made by a weasley twin, flew out of marcus flints dorm. a first year sprinted down the skinny hallway but slowed down at the sight of draco malfoy. it seemed not even final exams could stress out the boys of hogwarts.

“in you go,” draco spoke, taking your books and shutting the door behind them. sure enough, blaise and theodore were gone, but their messy corners of the dorm were proof they’d been there.

you sat down on the edge of dracos bed, a spot you’d snuck too for comfort so many times before. your feet pressed against the floor, eyes locked onto your feet. draco noticed your every move, your every gesture and sigh. kneeling before you, his hands gently unbuckled the straps of your shoes. cupping your heel with one hand the other sliding around your calf, he slipped them off one by one.

“so pretty,” he whispered, admiring your eyes.

a tiny smile appeared on your face, looking down at him. draco’s pale, cold hand held your cheek and slid into your hair. “go to sleep. i’ll wake you up for dinner and when we’re done i’ll teach you everything you need to know. lets give that busy mind a break.”

“draco-”

“look how warm that bed looks, huh?” your boyfriend interrupted, gently pulling you sweater over your head and grabbing one of his tshirts and pulling it over your head. his fingers fiddled with the button of your jeans. “and just think of how much more you’ll retain when you’re fed and well rested.”

draco took your chin between his fingers forcing you to nod once your jeans were folded on his dresser along with the black sweater. “good.” his shoes were kicked off as he sat against his pillow, pulling your head onto his chest.

draco malfoy was by no means an affectionate person, but that had changed when you came into the picture. how could his soulmate been hidden by the best friend title all this time? he brushed his fingers through your hair, his other hand rubbing your back. you were asleep in seconds and two hours later you were awoken by dinner in bed and a boyfriend with a cheesy grin.

- wishing you all the best on your finals

you’re so smart i believe in you!!

#katerinasas #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy fluff #draco fanfiction #harry potter #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco lucius malfoy #draco x reader #hogwarts #fanfic #harry potter fanfiction

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kingkat12 · 15 days ago

Text

consequences (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: masturbation/syntribation, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, punishments, Roman is so confusing that he needs his own warning

summary: you knew this was coming-- Mr. Godfrey was never planning on letting you get away with your stunt last Friday, anyway.

word count: 7,826

← previous chapter | next chapter →

a/n: I'm back!! hope you enjoy Mr. Godfrey being an ass as much as me tihi<3333 writing this series is making me realize new things about myself lmao

... No, there was no way.

None, whatsoever.

There was no way in hell that Mr. Godfrey could've known what he saw last Friday. He was just messing with me, and his timing was simply diabolical, right? I kept staring at him, waiting for him to say something, to give me a sign, anything, because there was just no fucking way, yet I got nothing.

My nails were freshly manicured. French tips. Lilac. Just as he told me to do them. My hair was free of any clips, I was wearing another one of my pencil skirts, and I had done everything he had asked of me to a tee-- wasn't that warranted some special attention? The more I craved some sort of acknowledgement, the more it made me feel like I was back in high school, getting yet another makeover to impress some boy I liked.

But Mr. Godfrey wasn't just some boy; he was my boss, who had also happened to have seen me cum.

Fuck.

The conference table was littered with printouts, name tags, notepads, and the weight of my own regret. Mr. Godfrey sat at the head of the table, sleeves rolled, coffee in hand, flipping casually through the briefing I had prepared like we were equals. He was acting as though Friday had never happened, as if I hadn't come undone beneath his green gaze, and as if he hadn't sent that email, or seen me do... that.

He tapped a finger against a margin before he spoke, his voice cutting through the silence; "This section on oil pricing... good work,"

What? Was he complimenting me? Was Mr. Godfrey maybe also having a brain aneurysm? "Thank you, sir," I breathed. My stomach churned like I had swallowed frogs for breakfast, and my leg was bouncing like I was waiting for a bomb to go off-- technically, I was.

But Mr. Godfrey didn't say anything more. His lips twitched, almost in approval. Almost. He kept going over my notes, over and over, with a calmness I hadn't seen in him before. "And this paragraph is cute," he said, holding the page up to me like a parent showing off a child's bad drawing. "Makes us sound like we don't eat our young."

"I can-- I can reword it, sir?"

"No," he huffed, putting it down with a smirk. "Leave it. It won't help the business if they think this is a daycare for fucktards."

"I don't think anyone thinks this is a daycare for fucktards," I tried, my voice a mere whisper. I didn't dare to speak any louder, as though that'd risk him uncovering something else about me that I didn't want him to know. "I think everyone can see that you're a very serious man, sir."

Mr. Godfrey didn't look at me, didn't acknowledge my soft tone. He just sipped his coffee and continued flipping through the prep notes with ease. "I am," he murmured, more to himself than to me. "Serious people run things. They don't beg to be seen." Then, almost lazily, like he could hide the intent, he added; "Though some people--" he gestured vaguely, like he meant the air, or maybe the entire office; "--seem to confuse silence for invisibility."

My breath got cut off in my throat like someone had karate-chopped my trachea.

He knew.

Fuck.

He knew.

But how the fuck did he know?! How could he have known what he saw? How on earth did he figure it out? No one ever had, so how had he? How did he even know what he was looking at in that moment?!

My brain was actively shattering, falling apart, and I felt like I was scrambling to shove the pieces back into one collective heap. However, on the other hand, Mr. Godfrey was going on as though he hadn't verbally slapped me across the face with my own doings, and he flipped to the next page of the document as though he had said nothing at all. "I'd cut this stat in half," he said, tapping his thumb against the margin. "We don't want them thinking we're desperate."

I could barely swallow my spit, let alone answer. "Yes, sir,"

Mr. Godfrey hummed; "You'll join me for the meeting, by the way," He turned another page. "You'll do the introductions. Smile. Keep eye contact. Don't fidget. I can't have our guests seeing you playing snake on your computer, so you'll be by my side."

My heart was somewhere on the floor. "Sir, I have never done that!--"

"Try not to stutter," he added, his tone one of discipline. "And keep your hands steady if he asks for a coffee, you have a history of almost spilling stuff. Let's just say I'm relieved you didn't apply to be a surgeon. So, I suggest you try thinking of something... soothing."

My heart hiccupped-- soothing?

Soothing?!

Mr. Godfrey didn't give away anything. Not a twitch of his lip, not a glance, nothing. He gave me nothing to work off of. Was I overthinking this, or did he actually know I was a complete and utter pervert? That was, until he went on; "Whatever it is you think about when you're alone," he said, dry as bone. "That should do the trick for your nerves." And then, without missing a beat-- "Unless, of course, that's the problem."

Mr. Godfrey could've kicked me in my gut, and that would've had the same effect as what I felt right now. Casually, calmly, as though he wasn't toying with me, he pushed his chair back and stood up, straightening his cuffs like we hadn't been sitting in a room pooling thick with tension.

Finally, Mr. Godfrey looked at me. His green eyes were gorgeous as ever, the same pair of eyes that had stared back at me all weekend from the magazine I had bought with him on the front page. Proper, handsome. The fact that he was even looking at me at all felt like a blessing. "Lilac," he added, casual, distracted, as he nodded to my nails. "French?"

I wanted to explode with joy; he had noticed! Suddenly, I wasn't feeling so awful, and by pure instinct, I put my manicured hands forward as though to show them off. "French," I echoed, trying not to look so over the moon. It was impossible. I felt like a cat that had just gotten a good patting down, and I was two seconds away from purring with delight at being seen.

The more I thought about the way his attention made me feel, the more his words echoed in my mind. French... Did Mr. Godfrey like to French? The thought of him kissing anyone, let alone me, made me want to run through the glass windows of the Godfrey Industries skyscraper and plummet to my certain death. It was too riveting a thought.

"Right," he hummed, clicking his tongue. "Good."

In this light, with him standing over me like this, the light hit Mr. Godfrey from behind with the most gorgeous illumination, and created an optical illusion which gave him a halo. Still, the halo didn't match the sinister hold he had over me-- he still knew. He knew. Odd bastard.

Would he do anything about it, though?

... I wasn't sure whether I wanted him to or not.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I should've known that Mr. Godfrey wouldn't let me off the hook this easily. I had worked for him for exactly a week now, but I should've still figured out that I wouldn't manage to get away from this with a simple verbal slap on the wrist.

The same meeting room as earlier felt colder, like even the air didn't want to piss him off. The table gleamed in the office lighting, wiped to perfection. There were branded folders laid out like offerings, perfectly aligned, not a single edge out of place-- I hadn't touched mine. I didn't dare to, not in this company.

Mr. Godfrey sat at the head, back straight this time, no tilt, no casual lean. He looked precise, controlled, like he had already done this meeting a thousand times before. His suit jacket was still on, his hair perfect, green eyes unreadable. The son of the Azerbaijani president sat across from him, joined by two stone-faced advisors, but even they looked like background noise in comparison to my boss.

I watched him speak, and it was like watching someone play chess at a speed I couldn't even process-- was Mr. Godfrey the Magnus Carlsen of the business world? Who'd have thought?

... Me, actually.

Because despite the fact that he had caught me doing the unthinkable, I wanted his approval more than anything. After all the stalking I had done over the weekend, I had figured out that this guy was brilliant. After inheriting the company from his mother some years ago, he had turned everything around and somehow managed to make Godfrey Industries even better than it was, although that was previously deemed impossible before he got his position as CEO. He had created an imperium; Mr. Godfrey was a pro, and every word landed perfectly as he presented the business proposal. He smiled only when it served a purpose. He didn't fidget, didn't stumble, unlike me.

He was a God.

A God that knew exactly what I had done.

A God that... hadn't fired me for it.

Why not?

I bet he liked tying the noose around my throat and hitting me like I was a piñata-- I felt like one, anyway. He probably enjoyed the tortured look in my eyes and the way I squirmed in my seat whenever he'd glance my way. Did he see the way I tried to hide in plain sight? I always worried that with the next glance, he'd somehow figure out a new way to fuck me over, the Godfrey way.

But in the midst of my internal worry, I should've been worried about the external ones-- the things Mr. Godfrey could do to me right now, in this moment.

I had simply sat there like a fucking paperweight, trying not to breathe too loudly. Couldn't even have bothered a fly. I hadn't bothered anyone, for that matter, hadn't said a word, because I figured that it would save me. Yet... I didn't realize he had stopped talking until it was too late.

Then, like flicking on a light, Mr. Godfrey's green gaze cut to me, sharp as a blade with a sinister-looking smile spreading across his plush lips. He called my name, light as anything, until my worst nightmare came true followed; "Now, everybody, my dear secretary will tell you about the revised compliance framework,"

My blood froze. What compliance framework?!

No, no, no!

I blinked, once, twice. My throat was already closing. "I-- sir, I'm not sure I--"

"Yes, you are," Mr. Godfrey didn't look at me anymore, ruthlessly dismissing my panic. He was reaching for his glass of water, the picture of composure, as though my complete unraveling didn't faze him in the slightest.

Our company turned to me with polite expectation, and I momentarily locked eyes with the son of the president of Azerbaijan-- my mind was blanking as I stared at Mr. Godfrey, hoping that would demand his attention, and that he wouldn't punish my inappropriate incident like this.

My heart was pounding painfully against my chest as it hit me; he already knew I'd do whatever he asked. I was his secretary. A toy. Something to poke at for amusement when his real work got too boring. I was now stuck between the two worst things imaginable: looking like an idiot in front of a powerful foreign delegation, or disappointing him-- okay, that last one would be the worst thing in the world, no question there. There was nothing I wanted more than to make him proud, and what the fuck did that say about me?

I swallowed hard, gathering the courage. "The compliance framework," I breathed, voice thin and pitiful, like someone had pressed it through a cheese grater. "It's being... revised."

Oh my God. Oh my God.

No one said anything.

Mr. Godfrey sipped his water like he was at a wine tasting. I wanted to wring his neck and leave him to hang out in the barn for the foxes to take him for dinner.

"The framework has, uh--" I glanced down at the folder I hadn't touched. I fumbled to open it, praying to any and every deity that there'd be something, anything, to save me. However, to my panic, the page on compliance was just a table of numbers with a header that said 'TBD'.

To Be Decided?!

"--been... adjusted to meet evolving regulatory standards," I continued, babbling nonsense. "To, eh, ensure ethical partnerships with our... with our international contacts. Especially ones that, uh, span across oil-based initiatives and... and green developments."

That was when I heard it.

The faintest sound.

A breath. Sharp. Like a short laugh, almost choked off.

Mr. Godfrey.

He was still looking at his papers, still perfectly composed, but I knew that sound-- he was enjoying this so much that he could barely contain it. Bastard.

I cleared my throat, trying to steady my voice, trying to act like I wasn't seconds away from throwing myself through the glass windows and plummeting to my certain death. Still, the biggest struggle was not to crumple the paper in my hands from the anger coursing through my veins. "These adjustments will help us... position ourselves competitively in light of ESG policies," I continued, voice shaky with torment. Were these policies even a thing? Was I making things up now? I had overheard them talking about this earlier, but I had no idea what it was, or whether it fit into this scenario.

My heart hammered into my ribs until the son of the president faintly smiled, which I guessed was a good sign (phew). But Mr. Godfrey didn't give me any signs of whether I was miserably failing or if I was on the correct track-- it made me want to impress him even more. I wanted him to at least nod once, maybe even look pleased, but he just turned a page; a silent verdict that I had failed, but not in a way that truly mattered to anyone but me.

He liked watching me fall. He liked knowing he could snap his fingers and make me dance, even if I had no clue what the song was. I stayed seated, cheeks burning, hands trembling on the polished table, waiting for my next cue like a pathetic little marionette. I wanted to cross my legs, relieve the immense anxiety, somehow soothe myself, but I was locked-- I couldn't move.

Did I really deserve this for what I had done last Friday? The very thing I had been getting away with my whole life?

And then, finally--

Mr. Godfrey spoke.

"Charming, isn't she?"

I whipped my head toward him. What?

He still wasn't looking at me. He was facing the son of the president, lounging with the kind of confidence that made my skin prickle. The sight of him, breathtaking as always, made me want to forget the shit he had just put me through-- how could anyone hate such beauty?

Mr. Godfrey gave me a soft nod which would've made me swoon in any other context, like he was giving me permission to sit back and be quiet, and turned back to the room. "To clarify, the revisions made to the compliance framework will prioritize the ESG adaptations within the joint venture clause. The preliminary numbers are being finalized internally,"

His voice was silk. Not a stumble, not a single misstep. Nothing like the pathetic mess he had made of me.

"Of course," the advisor said, nodding like none of my verbal vomit had ever existed. "We look forward to reviewing that."

And I looked forward to going home and choking to death in my own nausea and shame.

I couldn't sit here anymore-- "May I be excused?" I shot in, my voice a mere breath. Still, Mr. Godfrey caught my tone, along with the glossed over look in my eyes; this way, I pleaded with him, begged him to let me go, to give me a second to collect myself.

Mr. Godfrey tilted his head at the sound of my voice, his eyes landing on me like a pressure point. It wasn't pity that moved him, or concern-- just awareness. Cold, victorious, and satisfactory awareness. He said nothing at first, and the silence dragged long enough for my throat to close again, long enough for the pit in my stomach to start burning. I could feel the heat crawling up my neck, shame blooming like a bruise.

And then, just as I was about to lower my gaze and give up;

"Granted,"

Mr. Godfrey wasn't cruel, not openly, but he wasn't kind either. His words were measured, just like everything else he did-- like every word had passed through some internal sieve of control before reaching the air. He didn't look at me again; he turned back toward the room, toward power, as if I had ceased to exist to him.

"The proposal stands as outlined," he continued, speaking directly to the president's son now, his voice once again smooth, anchored. "Any further clarifications will be sent through legal. My team will follow up."

I didn't breathe until I reached the door, and even then, it felt like my lungs were full of someone else's air. I kept my back straight, I didn't run, but I was certain that behind me, Roman Godfrey was smiling like a man who had just proven a point-- one I didn't fully understand yet, but one I knew I wouldn't forget.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I was about to understand, but not yet.

Not now.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, my breathing had stabilized, but only because it was too exhausted to bother. I had floated through the rest of the day in a daze-- filling out papers I didn't read, answering emails I barely skimmed, and avoiding Mr. Godfrey's office like it housed a guillotine; which, frankly, it kind of did. A modern, Armani-suited guillotine with the cruelest green eyes I had ever seen. French. That was why I ended up in the only place where I knew I wouldn't be devoured.

... If only Mr. Godfrey would devour me.

Peter's office was quieter than the rest of the floor, somehow untouched by the constant hum of printers, the polite conversations, and the surgical tension in the air. He had let me in without a word, barely looking up from his screen, and I took the silence as permission; I sat in the extra chair, hands tucked neatly in my lap, trying not to look like I didn't belong.

But the fact still stood; I didn't belong. Godfrey Industries was a cathedral of competence. Everyone was sharp, expensive, concise, and nothing like me.I had come straight from college with a good GPA, but I had no idea what I was doing. I was unpolished, unsure, yet Peter never made me feel like a walking accident. Something told me we were more alike than I had initially thought.

My chair made a scraping noise against the floor no matter how carefully I moved it. Outside his office, the building was starting to exhale-- phones stopped ringing, footsteps thinned the sonic bubble, and the last of the suits murmured down the corridor. Peter still wasn't looking at me-- he reached for his mug, took a sip of something seemingly bitter, and casually asked; "Bad day?" He was typing as he spoke, voice as steady as the cursor on his screen. "It's only Monday. You don't get to give up until at least Thursday, kid."

I sighed. "Thursday feels like millennia away,"

Peter opened his drawer and thumbed through it until he found a round box. He slipped a pouch of snus under his upper lip as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and only then did his eyes flick to meet mine. "What did he do?"

"Pardon?"

"Bossman," Peter said. "Roman?"

I straightened up in my seat-- it was odd to hear someone refer to Mr. Godfrey by his first name. "He, uh... humiliated me in the meeting,"

"Yeah?"

"In front of people who are practically Middle Eastern royalty, yes,"

Peter tried not to laugh. With the snus tucked under his lip, the effort made his mouth look crooked. "Christ," he huffed. "I feel like I've heard this story before..." He leaned back, his chair giving a soft complaint. "Okay, maybe not this exact story, but it's rather familiar." He thumbed at a speck on his desk, didn't elaborate, yet there was something peculiar about the way he looked at me now, like he was watching some déjà vu unfold in real time.

Immediately, I was irked-- "Okay, enough," I huffed. "His old secretary?"

"What about her?"

"I just-- what happened?"

He made a low sound in his throat, half a laugh, half a sigh, and pressed his lip down on the snus, jaw twitching like he was grinding down on the bitterness. "She was good," he mumbled. "Efficient."

"But?"

Peter didn't look at me when he smiled, just shook his head like I was adorably clueless. "Sorry kid," he cooed, patronizing beyond belief. "Can't tell you without a subpoena."

"Oh, come on," I leaned forward on my chair, desperate now. "I think I saw her the day of my interview. Black hair down to her hips, paper between her teeth like some dog... It looked like a humiliation ritual."

Peter clicked his tongue, not quite smiling. "Sounds like her, yeah,"

"Yeah?"

"Typical Roman,"

"Typical?" I leaned further, feeling my heart pound into my ribs. "Peter, seriously, it's like you're edging me!"

He didn't answer right away, possibly stunned by my comparison. Something in me shifted-- Mr. Godfrey would've probably appreciated my foul blabber, but Peter... he was outright uncomfortable. Mr. Godfrey would've at least been amused, maybe even exhilarated by my odd choice of words, and the reminder of it made my heart sink. Why couldn't Peter be more like my boss?

... Why did I want him to be like my evil inappropriate boss?

On the other hand of my inner monologue, Peter simply returned his eyes to the screen, not bothering to get caught up in my odd choice of words. "We're friends," he said, a calm reminder that felt both fatherly and condescending. "But I'm not setting myself on fire so you can toast a marshmallow on gossip."

Gossip? I was sure that the story of Mr. Godfrey's old secretary was important for me to know. "But!--"

Three soft knocks at the door cut me off. I turned too quickly with a hitch of my breath, like I had been caught doing something illegal.

And just as I feared, Mr. Godfrey stood in the doorway, framed in the golden spill of hallway light with his suit jacket unbuttoned, tie a little loosened-- still immaculate, still the kind of handsome that made me nervous to blink, like I was worried he'd vanish, or worse, look directly at me and see something I didn't want him to.

Still, there was something different about him, different from earlier.

"Our guests are gone," Mr. Godfrey looked past me, and directly at Peter with some sort of dismissal. "I'll need her now, if you're done giving her asylum."

Peter didn't respond right away. He shifted in his chair, slow and reluctant, as if our boss's presence had changed the air pressure in the room. His hand moved back to the mouse, clicking once, twice-- anything to keep it casual and controlled. It was as though he went back on some automatic cruise control; "Go easy on the kid," he said, no longer looking at me.

Mr. Godfrey let out a low hum, similarly to a laugh, as he crossed his arms over his chest, chewing invisible gum as I quietly got up from my chair. He knew I'd follow him, anyway. I had to. Cocky bastard. "Or what?" he called. "You'll be more swamped with work than you already are?"

Peter's eyes darted to meet his-- it almost felt like a warning, yet playful, like they had been friends in another lifetime. What was I witnessing? "Are you threatening me with another case?"

"Threatening?" Mr. Godfrey watched as I stilled by his side, staring down at my shoes. Was he catching the way I wanted to disappear? The way I clacked the tips of my shoes together in order to pass time, to make myself smaller? Something told me it amused him to see me so pliable. "Is giving you more work a threat, Rumancek? The very thing I've employed you to do?"

Peter almost laughed, resorting to shaking his head as he typed something. "All I'm saying is, go easy on the kid,"

The kid? Was that my new name?"

Mr. Godfrey scanned me up and down like he was thinking about it, deciding whether or not to comply. Or was he maybe checking me out?-- no, that was definitely my wishful thinking. With his eyes on me, he held one hand out toward Peter, snapping his fingers in a dismissive, almost derogatory manner; "Get to work,"

And it was then that he put that same hand on the small of my back, gently pushing me out of the doorway to Peter's office so he could close the door.

The touch was warm, soft-- it took my breath away. I was sure my breath even hitched, just slightly, not loud enough for anyone to hear, but my cheeks heated in the same heave of air, pinking up like newly attached organs in a successful transplant. My eyes searched for Mr. Godfrey's, looking for a confirming smile, something out of character to accompany the touch, but no.

The second his hand left me, the second I turned to see him, he was gone. Mr. Godfrey didn't even look at me when he walked past me, not even needing to turn around to check if I was following-- of course I was.

When we got to his office shortly after, his door clicked softly behind him as he motioned for me to sit down opposite his desk. I caught the scent of his cologne when I passed him, daring to close my eyes and relish in it for just a second. This was bad. I caught myself doing it the second I did it, though-- I needed to stop fixating on my boss, stat.

The humiliation of everything that had happened last Friday and earlier today burned fresh in my mind as Mr. Godfrey approached me, not yet taking his seat. It made me hold my breath, made the tips of my fingers tingle with burning fervour, and I couldn't look at him. I refused to. After what he did to me today, I wouldn't, not when we were alone like this.

Mr. Godfrey placed himself in front of me, leaning against his desk as he towered over me with all the time in the world.

He looked so handsome in that suit. So unbelievably handsome, as he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, almost as though he was relieving himself of the pressure around his throat-- then, he cleared it. Green eyes, staring down at me. Angled nose, pointed down at the ground as he scoured his brain on what to say first. It was almost as though he was questioning whether to follow through with this, as though he had been here before and deemed it a misstep he wouldn't repeat; the more I sat in this tension, the more I thought about the odd tear in the previous secretary's skirt.

I couldn't breathe properly, feeling the air getting stuck in my throat. We were going to talk about it now, weren't we? My body responded to Mr. Godfrey before my brain had the chance to catch up, like muscle memory from a life I hadn't lived yet. And right now, I could feel it happening again-- my shoulders rolling forward, my spine rounding out with the weight of his gaze, thighs drawing just a little closer together under the hem of my skirt, as though they remembered something I shouldn't have let happen.

Then, softly, like he was making a casual observation about the weather, he said; "I've... always thought there was a particular kind of bravery in submission,"

I felt the hair at the nape of my neck stand up. What? That was the complete opposite of what I thought he would say-- I had no idea what I thought he'd say, actually, but it was definitely not this.

"It's not weakness, not at all. It's the opposite... it takes discipline, nerve. The kind of self-knowledge most people spend decades uncovering," Mr. Godfrey traced the wood of his desk with his pointer as though he was casually passing time, but then he leaned forward, softening his tone. "However, I don't have decades to offer you. I'm keen to speed things up."

With a quick breath, I dared to look up at him, my eyes full with complete and utter confusion-- what was happening right now? Did he... see me? Could he sense me, like I thought he could all along? "I don't-- I don't know what you mean, sir,"

Mr. Godfrey dismissed me; "You didn't back down," he continued. "When I told you to start talking about the compliance framework, you just did it. Any other normal person would've made up something to excuse themselves, to avoid making a fool of themselves, but you... you heard my word, and you just adhered." He bit down on his bottom lip, holding back a string of laughs as though he relished in the memory. "I'm quite sure I've hired the right person for the job, but... there's just something on my mind that's really bothering me."

I swallowed--- I could feel the burn increasing behind my eyes. "Yes?" I stayed planted in the chair, a pinned insect, watching the way he stood up and paced calmly around the desk like a man thinking very carefully about what to do with something he'd already caught. I wondered if he had ever thought about chopping me to pieces and hanging my head over his desk like a bust of a dead, caught deer-- I felt like one, anyway.

But then, Mr. Godfrey stopped by the side of my chair, and dropped down so he was crouching next to me, staring up at me with those green eyes that usually only looked back at me from my Forbes magazine with him on the cover. My breath caught as I shifted in my chair to look at him; I probably wouldn't get many opportunities to look at him from above.

"I know you're fresh," he said, lightly, almost fondly, as he ran his fingers across the arm of the chair. "Which is why I'm only talking to you the way I feel you want to be talked to."

What? I felt beyond lost, and my breath felt choked in my chest. "Sir, I--"

"But the way I feel you want to be talked to is very specific, so I want to make sure I'm... adjusting correctly, per se. I wouldn't want there to be a misunderstanding," There was something in his eyes, like he was searching me for answers, asking for some sort of permission to proceed; I couldn't decode it. His voice was almost careful now, the faintest shadow of uncertainty threading through it, asking for something I didn't know how to give.

"Do you like working here?" he tried, softer this time.

I nodded before I could stop myself, a quick, embarrassed jerk of my head-- of course I did. I liked it too much, despite the emotional torture that came with being his secretary. Was that maybe the part I enjoyed?

Mr. Godfrey smiled faintly, not triumphant, but almost relieved, and for a moment, he stayed very still, letting the tension breathe between us. Then, his hand slid closer along the armrest, deliberate but slow, stopping just inches away from where my fingers clutched the chair in a death grip. He didn't touch me-- he only waited, like he was giving me the choice to close the distance.

I stared at his hand, pulse hammering against my ribs. The skin between his thumb and forefinger was pink yet golden under the office light, so close I could feel the warmth of him bleeding into me.

Oh God.

Was I overthinking this? Was I imagining this? Whatever it was, I had a feeling I knew what was happening, what he wanted me to do, and believe me, I was ready to do whatever Mr. Godfrey asked me to do.

So fuck me, but I took a chance and shifted slightly, the movement almost imperceptible, and brushed the back of my pinky against his. It was feather-light, could've been easily excused as accidental if anyone had been watching, but we both knew better.

Mr. Godfrey exhaled, a quiet, barely-there sound of relief. He lifted his gaze back to mine, his mouth curving into something dangerous, something impossibly fond, yet something he knew he shouldn't be doing. "I'm glad," he murmured, now retreating his hand and standing up, walking back around his desk.

I had to clear my throat, jarred by his touch; "About-- About what?"

Mr. Godfrey shrugged. "That you like working here,"

Ah. Of course.

Mr. Godfrey sat down in his chair, the soft groan of leather breaking the silence, and rested his elbows lightly on the arms, steepling his fingers. He watched me without blinking, and for a moment, I wondered if he could see right through my clothes, right through my skin, down into the marrow of what I really wanted-- I wondered whether he'd like what he saw. Would he like the bra I was wearing, or was it not lacy enough for his taste? This guy definitely liked lace. Definitely. Red or black, I wasn't sure.

"I have another question," Mr. Godfrey said, voice cutting through my thoughts.

"Yes, sir?"

His lips twitched at the 'sir' as though it pleased him, encouraged him. "Are you happy to do what I ask of you?"

There was no way to answer that honestly without exposing myself, but it didn't feel like there was a choice anymore. "Yes, sir," I mumbled.

Something shifted in the air between us, thickening-- the faintest gleam entered his green eyes, and slowly, deliberately, he reached down and pushed a button under his desk. A soft mechanical click came from behind me, and it was only when I turned around that I realized the door to his office had locked from the inside. The blinds also came down with a low whir.

Panic and excitement ravaged through me, neither fully winning. Fuck.

With wide eyes, my head turned back to Mr. Godfrey as my hands held onto the chair like it could possibly save me from whatever was about to happen to me. "Sir?" I tried. "What exactly did I just say yes to?"

Humoured, Mr. Godfrey bit back on his growing smirk. Something told me he had waited for this moment for a while. "To put it plainly, you've said yes to the consequences of your actions,"

"Consequences?"

"Yes,"

"Of my... actions?"

"Are you perhaps hard of hearing?" he asked, repeating himself with annoyance; "The consequences of your actions. Were you never reprimanded as a kid, perchance?"

Reprimanded? What the fuck was he about to do to me? "I was," My mind buzzed with horror and excitement-- was he about to bend me over his knee and spank me raw? Why the hell did I even want that so bad in the first place? All these new thoughts were beyond overwhelming.

"Good," he said. "Then you know what it's about."

My heart pounded, breath catching in my throat, but Mr. Godfrey didn't rush to move. He just reclined in his chair with casual elegance, stretching out one long leg under the desk, glancing briefly at his computer screen like I wasn't even there. "I think," he said; "you can handle this next part yourself." Then, he spared me the smallest flick of his green eyes, cool and bored-- they were so ridiculously gorgeous. "You remember what you did the other day, don't you?"

My mouth dried instantly-- oh no.

Oh no, no, no, no, no.

This was it. I was about to get my head chopped off in the Godfrey guillotine.

But Mr. Godfrey turned back to his screen, clicking his mouse lazily as he sorted through his inbox; "Go ahead," he sighed. "Unless you're planning on wasting my time." He tapped a few keys, the sound obscenely loud in the quiet room. Without looking up, he added, tone perfectly dry; "I so hope you won't."

I felt like I was burning alive-- humiliation and excitement stirred in my gut, leaving me slightly trembling. Was this really happening? Did I understand this correctly? "Mr. Godfrey, sir, I'm really sorry about Friday, I swear I won't--"

"Don't apologize," he huffed. "Just do as you're told. Are you not happy to do what I ask of you? Did you lie to me earlier?"

Happy as ever. Happy beyond belief. "No-- No, sir, I would never lie to you,"

"Good," he said, dragging his hand through his brown hair before buttoning up the top button of his nicely ironed shirt. "Wouldn't want a filthy liar running around my office, right?"

Then, with a dismissive flick of his hand, he motioned for me to get on with it.

"Right," I breathed. This was my repercussion, right? Humiliating myself in front of him?

... I could deal with that.

Slowly, so, so slowly, I pressed my thighs together, the movement shamefully familiar, dragging a hot, needy friction right against where I needed it most. Why was I doing this? Why wasn't I fighting this, questioning this? I couldn't think. What if I had misread the whole situation, what if he was just messing with me, what if, what if?

But then-- "You'll let me know when you're finished," he said, not even granting me a glance. "Won't you?" Mr. Godfrey casually scrolled through his emails, reading, occasionally clicking open a response window. It made me feel like I was furniture, like I didn't exist at all except for his mild amusement, yet I felt like the most important thing in the world for being allowed to do something like this in his office... for being encouraged to do this in front of the man on the front of my Forbes magazine.

"Yeah," I breathed, allowing myself the casual tone.

But Mr. Godfrey clicked his mouse with one loud snap; "Sorry, what was that?"

My cheeks burned. "Yes, sir,"

"There you go,"

I shifted again, crossing my legs to squeeze just a little harder-- I couldn't even help myself anymore. I was getting desperate, and some part of me wanted him to notice, to see me, which is why I allowed the softest of sounds to slip out.

But... he still didn't react.

No praise. No encouragement. He just worked, unbothered, as though he hadn't just locked the door to his office and commanded me into this humiliating spectacle, like he hadn't told me to get myself off with the utmost nonchalance.

I clenched harder, chasing friction and some kind of reward. The room felt too hot, too quiet, filled with the soft clicks of Mr. Godfrey's mouse and keyboard. Occasionally, he leaned back, scanning his emails like this was just any other Monday-- it was both infuriating and irrevocably hot. "For your information," he started, voice almost lazy, conversational; "I've been watching you squirm in your seat for about a week now without thinking anything about it, but you became too damn obvious on Friday when your face got all flushed. Subtlety isn't your strong suit. However, it's been fun knowing that you thought you could get away with that right under my nose. Reckless, too, if you ask me, but fun."

Nose. His Forbes front-cover nose. Forbes nose, Forbes nose, Forbes nose. I didn't dare to look at him, and my cheeks pinked up as I fixated on the orchid in the back of his office-- this was a horrifying revelation.

Another click of Mr. Godfrey's mouse followed. "I don't usually do fun," He let the words trail off, the smile in his voice unmistakable. "Yet... you're pleasantly entertaining."

My thighs squeezed tighter at the nice heat of his words-- this might be one of the few nice things he's ever said to me. The friction sharpened, aching, unbearably undeniable, as I hid my smile in the palm of my hand, squirming in my seat.

Still, Mr. Godfrey didn't glance at me. "Your hair is nicer this way, now that it's down," he said, like he was commenting on a typo in an email. "But do you have any shorter skirts? I'm aware of the office protocol about them having to be just above the knee, so... surprise me, won't you? You're a smart girl."

Another click.

"And just so you know, you worry too much. Don't worry. I notice you,"

Another sharp movement of his hand on the mouse, another click-- his attention was entirely elsewhere as I bit down on my lip, hoping he wasn't noticing the rather maroon colour of my cheeks. He noticed me? He saw me? Even after all his dismissal and humiliation, he was still keeping an eye on me?

At this point, I was working myself toward the edge, hoping to maybe unlock some more words of praise, or anything at all. It hadn't felt like this before, I hadn't let myself be so blatant about getting off this way, hadn't ever been watched while knowing-- this was nuts. "You notice me?"

"Yes,"

My breath hitched with satisfaction, but only because I allowed it to. I couldn't stop it-- the small, broken sound that cracked out of my throat, and the sheepish smile that was now very much in his sight. "You said you weren't the least bit interested in me,"

"I did?"

"In my job interview," I breathed. "You said you weren't."

"And I didn't lie," he said, shrugging as he typed. "I'm not interested in you. You don't interest me in the least."

What? Then what the fuck was happening? What was I doing? Why was he making me do this? I couldn't think, couldn't breathe-- in the midst of it all, horror washed over me as I realized how close I was, and how him saying that had pushed me even closer to the edge. Why was I reacting like this? Why did I want him to go on...?

Mr. Godfrey gave a soft huff of a laugh, low and dry. It was without question that he understood I was close, yet I had no idea how, seeing as he wasn't even looking at me. "Go ahead," he said, almost bored. "Get it over with."

The shame made it worse, the shame made it better, and I broke against myself with a muffled gasp, thighs clenching tight as the euphoria raced through me, vicious, humiliating, and helpless. I slumped forward slightly, trying to catch my breath, trembling with the aftershocks.

... What the fuck had I done?

In the midst of my shame and post-orgasmic choppy heaves of air, Mr. Godfrey's green eyes met mine for the first time since the beginning of this entire humiliating ordeal, and it felt like being doused in cold water. There was no heat in his expression, no lust, just something measured, distant, and unreadable. It was as though he was back to being a businessman inspecting a product, and not a man who had just made his secretary unravel in front of him as a form of punishment.

"Huh," he finally said. The barest flicker of something crossed his face-- interest, amusement? It vanished before I could place it. "Not bad."

... Not bad?

Not good, either, then.

Just... adequate. Passable.

What if I wanted to be perfect? Had I not done what he wanted? How could I do better? I wanted to, so badly. My want nearly made me blind.

Mr. Godfrey's attention returned to the screen, disregarding me and my state. Click. Tap. Scroll. But then, he spoke; "Next time, though..." His voice was business-casual again, and it made me want to claw my eyes out with frustration. "Ask before assuming you've earned the privilege."

I blinked, trying to understand the shape of that sentence. My body was still raw and with aftershocks; "Sir?"

Green eyes darted my way, ready to clear up the confusion. "If you're going to take the liberties you need to take to get relief during your work hours, you are no longer permitted to tend to them without my verbal approval. Have I made myself clear?"

Jesus Christ.

I stared back at Mr. Godfrey, wide-eyed and rather horrified. "Why don't you fire me?" I breathed. "You-- You have all the grounds to fire me for inappropriate behaviour, and-- and I don't know what just happened, but I feel like--"

"I don't fire good employees just because they have poor judgment when left alone for too long," he shot in. "That's a training issue."

A sound clawed at my throat-- half a laugh, half a gasp. "This is training?"

Mr. Godfrey started to seem very, very bored with me. I sensed it even before his eyes turned back to his screen, huffing at the email that ticked in-- or was he just frustrated with me again? "This," he said; "is me giving you structure."

Structure? Maybe that was all I needed? As his secretary, I was the one who structured his schedule, so it made sense that he would want to structure me. Structure me, rearrange me to his liking, shape me, build me from scratch all over again, reset me--

God, how I wanted all of that, and I hadn't even properly known it before now.

Mr. Godfrey sighed, glaring at me like I was wasting his time. He clicked the same button that had locked his door previously, undoing it, before he waved his hand towards it. "That will be all,"

What?

Was that... it?

My breath caught in my throat, shame mixing with something else, something stupid, something humiliatingly grateful. "Okay...?" I stood on trembling legs, smoothed my skirt, and tried to look like I wasn't about to fall apart completely. His attention was already gone-- he was somewhere else entirely, and I missed him dearly within a few seconds.

But then, he called my name when I reached the door. I spun around on my heel, desperate not to let the opportunity to get another word with him pass. "Yes, sir?" Please, please, please.

He hummed, typing up a new email. "How's your relationship with your father?"

... What?

I could only laugh, caught off-guard. Was he dissing me? Was he making a joke? If anything, it was rather funny in my head. Was he pinning my compliance on my supposed daddy issues? He knew nothing about me, yet he dared to assume I even had those issues at all...? I blamed the post-orgasmic state of my mind for the words that slipped past my lips with the utmost humour; "Oh, fuck you!"

Mr. Godfrey's head snapped toward me, green eyes wide with surprise. The silence stretched, so did the tension, and just as I thought he was about to lunge forward and chew my head off--

"I'll see you tomorrow,"

Suppressing a sickeningly girly giggle at being let off easy, I left Mr. Godfrey's office with shame burning in my cheeks, and my heart hammering with excitement.

If only he would pay attention to me like this every day.

... Would he?

(a/n: pls why am I finding it so hot when he's being completely dismissive and just AAGGAHHHHGGHHHH yes ok my brain is melting, MWAH to whoever got this far!!<333)

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@useyourwandbro @malenoradgn @veesenya

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #hemlock grove #bill skarsgård #fanfic #x reader #fanfiction #bill skarsgard #oneshot #bill skarsgård x reader #bill skarsgard fanfiction #hemlock grove fanfiction #hemlock grove season 2 #peter rumancek #BRUHHH I AM FEELING SOME WAY TN

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sevgilimsatoru · 10 days ago

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Leaning on you

Summary: Sick reader x Caleb

Tags: Sick reader, Caleb x reader, fluff, kind of self indulgent

Word count: 700

Caleb has a new message for you!

I never hear you say, you miss me. Should I take this as a sign that you do?

Caleb is the type who gets stressed over your health more than you'd like. It's annoying, really.

But what can you do when he is so concerned over a little cold? Comforting and cooing at you like you are going to die or something.

He stood in infront of you in your living room, lecturing you for the third time about how you should stop being so careless and how important your health is.

"I'm fine, Caleb. It's just a cold." You said, sniffling. Your nose felt stuffy. Your body felt warm and just so tired. You didn't feel like doing anything. "You'll catch a cold too if you keep this up," you said, warning him to not get too close, too comfortable, but when did he ever listen to you?

"It's not fine. If you keep shrugging it off, you aren't going to get better, you know?" Caleb said, shifting to stand beside you. His hands holding your face gently, caressing your cheek with his fingers.

"Did you eat breakfast?" He asked, squishing your cheeks. A small smile graced his face. When you nodded in return, he gently picked you up, taking you to your room.

He gently lays you down on the bed, tucking you under the sheets, and moves to sit beside you. His warm hand sliding in your hair, massaging your skull.

That felt relaxing.

"If you catch a cold, don't blame me." You said, leaning into his touch. Hoping he won't ignore your words like he did before.

"I won't catch a cold because I know how to take care of myself, unlike you." Caleb replied, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Do you feel hungry? I can make you some soup; it'll make you feel better."

"No, thanks. I just don't feel like eating right now." You said, tugging the sheets upwards to cover your mouth. Your nose was stuffy; you couldn't even breathe properly.

You hated this.

"That's okay… You don't have to force yourself. Just tell me whatever you want to eat when you feel like it. I'll make it for you, honey." Caleb replied, patting you on the head.

There was a comforting silence between you two. Until Caleb stood up and walked out of the room. He came back a minute later, a glass of water in his hands.

"Here, drink some. Your lips are dry; you keep forgetting to drink water." He said, gently helping you sit up and drink the water. When you were done, Caleb placed the glass on the bedside table.

"I'll let you rest, okay?" He said, turning back to walk out of the room. You sat up, grabbing his arm. Caleb stopped in his tracks, turning his head to look at you.

"Can you stay, please? Can… can we cuddle, just for a little bit?" You asked, looking up at him. You didn't want him to get sick, but you didn't want him to leave either.

"Of course, sweetie." Caleb said with a smile. Slowly, getting up on the bed. He lay down beside him, pulling the sheets over him. Tugging you close.

He was warm.

His chest was pressed against your back, one of his arms wrapped around your waist, and his cheek resting on your shoulder. He placed a kiss on your cheek, covering your hand with his own.

"I would love to cuddle properly, but I doubt you'd be able to breathe like that with your stuffy nose." He said, his legs tangled up with yours. "Such a pretty girl." He mused, placing chaste kisses on the skin of your neck and shoulder.

"It's fine; this is okay." You replied, a smile on your face. You could stay like this. You moved your head to press a small kiss on the back of his hand.

It felt good.

Comfortable.

He felt like home.

A/N: Hey everyone. I know I'm not posting as often, I really don't like doing that but I keep trying to re-write the spin off chapters that have already been done. I don't know why. Also, I got sick, again. So this was a really self indulgent drabble. The area around my ribs is suddenly hurting a lot and when it happened last time, I ended up in the hospital for like a week so yeah. But I'll be fine. Have a nice day and take care of yourself!!

Tag list: @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13 @april-likes-smut @calebsbabyapple @mephisto-with-a-knife @wooasecret @anatherone @asgardiancoffemaker @sadsaidthesadthing @beppybeesnuggets @lilacflower667 @mangooes @sunnyx07 @30jades

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dorkyteenagedirtbag-ks · 1 month ago

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Synopsis: Y/N spent his life pushing people away, but Nishinoya’s persistence made him question if he truly wanted to be alone.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:

Y/N was smart—at least, that's what people around him said. His teachers, his parents, even his classmates.

To his parents, it was a blessing. After all, who wouldn't be happy to have a smart child? They loved boasting about him to other parents, proudly listing his achievements.

But Y/N never felt happy or lucky when people told him that. Either they were praising him to gain his favor so he’d help them, or they outright hated him for it.

As time passed, he grew lonelier. He was so tired of being used by everyone. At least by being a loner, people had a reason to talk behind his back.

But things might change…

After moving because of his parents' work, he had to transfer to Karasuno High School. He was already exhausted by the mere thought of it.

On his first day, when lunchtime finally arrived, he dodged everyone to avoid their questions.

In his search for a quiet place, he found a secluded spot near the gymnasium. He sat against a tree and started eating. Everything was peaceful—until a ball flew straight into his head.

Pain shot through his skull as the ball dropped beside him. Groaning, he rubbed the sore spot before looking down, only to see his lunch scattered across the ground.

Great. Just his luck.

As he scowled at the mess, someone rushed toward him. He was kind of short—at least, shorter than Y/N. He figured the guy would just grab his ball and leave, but life had other plans.

"Oh my god! I'm so sorry!! Did it hurt?? Your lunch is everywhere… Should I buy you a new one!?"

Y/N sighed, already annoyed by the flood of questions, and glared at the boy.

"Yes, it hurts, dumbass! And I don't want you to buy me another lunch—you’ve already done enough!"

He spat out his words with venom before grabbing his belongings and storming off. As he walked away, he could still faintly hear the boy calling after him, asking for his name, but he ignored him.

---

Days later, as Y/N was walking through the corridor, someone bumped into him. He planned to keep going, but, of course, life had a way of ruining his plans.

"Oh! You're the guy from last time! Does your head still hurt!? I haven’t seen you since that day..."

Y/N huffed and tried to walk past him, but the boy blocked his path.

"Why do you keep questioning me every time we meet? Just leave me alone, you're really a pain in the ass."

"I don't know... I'm just curious. And you never answer my questions, which makes me even more curious."

"Look, you seem kind, energetic, and whatever, but please stop talking to me. I have better things to do. The only questions I answer are the teacher's, so if you'll excuse me..."

With that, Y/N walked off to his next class, leaving Nishinoya frozen in the corridor, stunned by his cold words.

---

As time went on, Nishinoya continued trying to talk to Y/N—again and again. Every time he was near, Y/N ran away, avoiding him at all costs. But Nishinoya wasn’t having it. He was persistent.

After two weeks, Y/N finally gave in, too exhausted to keep running.

"Fine! You win. My name is Y/N! Now, can you leave me alone? Please..."

He really thought that would stop Nishinoya, but he was so wrong.

After that, Nishinoya sought him out at almost every recess, constantly trying to convince him to watch volleyball practice. At first, Y/N refused, but after another week, he finally caved.

He arrived at the gymnasium at the time Nishinoya had asked him to come and was immediately hit by the loud noise inside. He flinched but still made his way to the benches.

When Nishinoya saw him, he ran over excitedly.

"Everyone!!" His loud voice echoed through the court, making every head turn toward them.

Y/N tried to stop him, but it was too late. As all eyes landed on him, his cheeks immediately turned red.

"So this is Y/N! He's my new friend! He’s our guest for today!" Nishinoya announced with his usual enthusiasm.

Y/N simply bowed, too shy to say a word. The team waved at him before returning to their practice.

At first, he thought watching would be boring, but to his surprise, it was actually kind of fun. He even tried playing a little, encouraged by Nishinoya’s relentless cheering.

---

That day had been so much fun—Y/N never wanted it to end. But he kept that to himself.

After that, he found himself looking for Nishinoya at every recess. It was the first time he felt like this, but he refused to dwell on it. He didn’t want to admit it.

Because admitting it meant Nishinoya was becoming more important to him than he wanted.

That night, he fell asleep with a small smile on his face.

---

Day after day, Nishinoya continued dragging Y/N to volleyball practice. Because of his frequent visits, the team warmed up to him.

They came to appreciate his quiet nature and found it amusing how flustered he got whenever he received the slightest compliment.

Y/N grew fond of their little routine, where Nishinoya would come to find him and bring him along.

But one day, Y/N found himself waiting for Nishinoya… and he never came.

The students who usually ignored him seemed to avoid him even more that day. His brows furrowed, making his usual scowl even darker. It was as if a storm cloud hovered over him.

He tried to brush it off, but he was furious. Furious at himself for missing Nishinoya. Furious at Nishinoya for vanishing.

Who was he to worm his way into his life and then disappear!?

By the end of the day, Y/N stomped home, fuming. He had, admittedly, tried looking for Nishinoya during the day, but why should he? This was the peace he had always wanted… right?

---

A whole week passed, and Nishinoya was still nowhere to be found. Y/N was going crazy—crazily annoyed.

That day, he finally gave in to curiosity and headed to the gym to ask the team about him. He hesitated at the door but eventually pushed it open.

Then he heard him and took a small peek at where the voice was coming off.

Nishinoya—with a girl.

So that was it? He’d been ignored all week… for a girl?

At that moment, a volleyball rolled to Y/N’s feet. Fate had spoken.

He picked up the ball and threw it straight at Nishinoya’s face.

"Now we’re even. Don’t ever talk to me again," he huffed before turning on his heel.

Nishinoya clutched his head, stunned, as Y/N stormed away. The girl beside him looked equally shocked.

"Nishinoya…?" she started, but he didn’t hear her—he was already chasing after Y/N.

"Hey!! Wait!! Why did you do that!?"

"Leave me alone. Go back to your girl," Y/N snapped, bitterness lacing his voice. He didn’t know why it hurt so much.

"My girl?? But... she’s not my girl!" Nishinoya protested.

Y/N stopped and turned to him.

"Look, I don’t care if she’s your girl or not. You and I were never friends anyway."

Nishinoya’s expression darkened.

"Wow… so it’s like that…"

"That’s not what I meant…" Y/N trailed off, lost for words at the sadness in Nishinoya’s eyes.

"You said enough."

Nishinoya turned to leave, but Y/N instinctively grabbed his hand.

"Nishinoya, that’s not what I meant... It’s just—you weren’t here all week, and I thought… I don’t know, that you ditched me. Like everyone else did."

"Oh… If you’d texted me, you’d know I was sick. And that girl? She’s just a friend. She wanted advice about her crush." Nishinoya grinned.

Y/N swallowed hard. "...Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry about the ball… Does your head still hurt?" he asked touching Nishinoya's head.

"Nah, I’m used to it. You know, Hinata’s spikes are way worse."

They stood close—too close. Y/N’s heart pounded. His cheeks burned.

"...M-Maybe we’re a little too close..."

Nishinoya smirked at the sight of Y/N so flustered.

"Wow, I didn't know I could make you blush like that. Maybe you're in love with me...?"

"What? No! Who would be in love with you?! See you later—maybe. Or maybe not!"

And just like that, Y/N bolted away from Nishinoya.

The girl standing next to Nishinoya raised an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe we should've been talking about your crush instead of mine..."

"Shut up, I don’t know what you’re talking about," he grumbled, crossing his arms before heading back to practice.

---

After that day, Nishinoya made sure to see Y/N every day so he wouldn’t feel alone.

Each time Nishinoya showed up, Y/N smiled—though not too much. If he did, Nishinoya would definitely tease him, and he couldn’t have that. He still had his pride, after all.

A month passed, and after relentless teasing from his teammates, Nishinoya finally decided to ask Y/N out. Today was the day.

Standing in front of Y/N, he scratched the back of his head, looking unusually nervous.

"So, I was wondering... You know, it's been a few months since we met, and I thought that maybe, just maybe, we could, you know… go out together. Outside of school." His face was burning red.

"Like a friend hangout??" Y/N asked, stars in his eyes, completely oblivious.

"Mmh... I was thinking more like a date..."

"Oh..." Y/N turned just as red. "Mmh... Why not..."

Nishinoya grinned and ran off, happy with the outcome.

The next day, they met at the school’s front gate before heading to the park. They laughed, played around, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. After years of feeling lonely, Y/N was finally happy—all because of Nishinoya.

"It's good to see you smile this much," Nishinoya said, watching Y/N fondly. "You should do it more often."

"But not every day is as good as today. I should save my smiles for special occasions."

"Then I guess I’ll just have to make every day special so I can see your smile all the time."

"Just being with you is special enough for me," Y/N admitted, blushing.

Nishinoya smirked. "Mmh, maybe we could make today even more special, then."

"How?" Y/N blinked, confused.

"Like this."

Without warning, Nishinoya leaned in and kissed him. Y/N, stunned at first, quickly melted into the kiss.

And just like that, they became boyfriends.

- 𝐊𝐒

#haikyuu nishinoya #haikyuu karasuno #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #nishinoya x reader #nishinoya yū #x male reader #x reader #haikyuu #anime #angst #angst with happy ending #fluff #gay #oneshot #os #karasuno #karasuno x reader

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liahaslosthermind · 8 months ago

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~ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒔𝒔 ~

(Past) Rhysand x OC, (Eventual) Azriel x OC Part 2 of Betrayal

Summary: He was out of his mind with grief. Azriel had been through his fair share of trauma. He had seen and done horrific things, but that was always with Adelaide by his side. Now, he didn't know what to do, and he was losing it. Warnings: Suicidal thoughts and ideology, Death of a loved one, grief, Hurt/No Comfort

His limbs ached as he stood up from his chair. He had been sitting there so long that walking felt much harder than it usually did.

He rubbed the haze from his eyes while walking to the door, the incessant knocking making his headache worse.

"Fuck, Az. You look- how do you- do you want me to..." Cassian stood in front of his brother, someone he'd known for 500 years, and didn't recognize the male he saw.

It had been the first time in almost 2 months that Cassian's knocks were answered. He had come to her room, everyday, multiple times a day, to plead with his brother to talk to him, to eat something, to just let Cassian look at him so he could see he was alive.

Azriel said nothing as he turned around and went back to the chair he had been occupying. Cassian closed the door behind him as he took in the room.

It was the same as it had been the day she left. Even though this had been the place Azriel spent most of his days, the Shadowsinger had kept it all the same, only touching her bed that he would sleep in the nights he could stomach it, or the chair he was currently in now.

A mess of papers on the desk brought tears to Cassian's eyes. Adelaide, sweet and caring Adelaide, had been making a list of Solstice gifts for her family when she was called to join some of the Inner Circle on a meeting all those months ago. A meeting that had been a trap for them. A meeting that ended up taking her life.

Azriel cleared his throat when Cassian went to pick up a piece of paper. He had tried to hard to keep her room clean while also not disturbing things from the spot she had put them in.

"Nesta told me that her and Elaine have been leaving you food but it remains untouched."

"Is there a question, brother?" Azriel asked. His voice had always been rough, and he had always been more on the quiet side, but Cassian could tell that because of lack of use, it hurt him to speak.

"Why aren't you eating? How can we get you to? I would do anything, Az." he pleaded.

The spymaster didn't answer.

"Whats the end goal? Believe me, if you want 1,000 years to mourn her, I will be with you every step of the way. I've tried to give you space, but you are killing yourself! You sit in here all day, only coming out when everyone is asleep or gone. What do you need to care about your life again?"

He was met with a distracted look from Azriel.

His brother was never distracted. He was never careless. He hadn't missed a day of training for no reason in hundreds of years. Cassian knew he still trained every once in a while, but Azriel always found times to do it when no one else was around.

Azriel didn't have an answer for Cassian, at least not one he would like.

How could I care for my life when her's is over? he thought. By the desperate look on Cassian's face, he could tell his brother knew the answer.

"I lost her too. I know it was different with the two of you, you were each others'... person, but she was as much my sister as you are my brother. I didn't... I didn't even get to say goodbye." Cassian finally broke at the confession. He hadn't let himself think about it, he had to keep himself together for Azriel. "The last time I talked to her, we where fighting over food. She stole the slice of cake I had saved for myself, I called her an inconvenience and a burden, she called me a spoiled bat who needs to learn to share." He let out a bittersweet laugh at the memory. They were usually at each others' throats, and when they weren't, they were teamed up to annoy someone else in their family. But they loved each other, always were there for one another, except in the end, when it mattered most.

"24 hours later, I was picking out the sarcophagus my sister was going to be laid in. I would have let her have all of my leftovers, all of my dessert, if it meant I just got one last conversation with her." Choking up, Cassian sank to the floor, a wave of familiar grief washing over him.

Azriel joined him, crying as he hugged his brother.

The two illyrians, sat like that for a while. Long after their tears had dried, long after the sun had gone down, Cassian finally spoke up.

"Why don't you go see her? Visiting helps me, talking to her even though I know she can't hear is something I do often."

In truth, Azriel hadn't gone to his best friend's mausoleum since the funeral. He couldn't see her like that, couldn't come to terms with it.

These past 6 months had been dark. Everyone was mourning her, many of the people of Velaris included, but none more than Azriel. Part of him had died, laid in the cold marble box that held her body. For the first few months, he had completely disconnected from reality. He went on with his daily routine, he trained, ate, went on missions, did paperwork, slept. But it was as it he was on autopilot, as if the real Azriel had been asleep that whole time.

Two months ago, he woke up. It was sudden, he had gone to his room for the first time in a while to grab some books that had been long overdo at the library, and the priestesses had kindly told him if they didn't get them back he would be banned for life.

Thats when he saw the blanket on the chair by his desk. She had given it to him over a century ago. It was a birthday present, a wool blanket that was enchanted to smell like her always. She had played it off as a self centered gift, so he doesn't forget about his favorite person while away on missions, in front of their friends, but Azriel knew that wasn't her true intention. Adelaide had always been a master gift giver, and she also knew Azriel had trouble sleeping most nights, but he never had any problems falling asleep on the couch next to her after a long night of conversations, wrapped comfortably in her own wool blanket.

He hadn't slept without it till the night she died.

Then, he picked it up, trying to see if the enchantment still worked. And that was all it took for him to wake up. It was awful, every bad feeling he had been too far disassociated to feel hit him at once. He curled up on the floor with the blanket wrapped around his hands and stayed there for days, silent tears never ceasing to fall.

After getting yelled at by Madja, who Nesta had called to knock some sense into him, he got up and went to her room, where he remained most of his days since.

He sat in the chair in the corner of the room, only eating to quiet his stomach, and tried as hard as he could to detach himself from the never ending agony that was his life now.

He told Cas he would see her, the general's face lighting up at the news.

He felt guilty, making Cassian so happy for something he knew would later destroy him.

Hours after Cassian had left the room, as the sun came up, Azriel went to his room to grab the blanket he hadn't touched in 2 months. Then he grabbed Truth Teller, wrote his final request, and went to see Adelaide.

The building was large, and beautifully constructed. He would have been happy that she had a resting place as elysian and inviting as she, but he knew Rhysand only spent that much money and made it this beautiful to try and lighten the guilt he felt.

The Shadowsinger stopped by the entrance, the sarcophagus without a lid placed up on the platform.

Before the funeral, Helion had come to place a enchantment on her body that would keep it perfectly preserved.

It had been more of a final gift to Addie than a show of good will between the courts. Adelaide had been a foundling on the border of Day and Night. Helion took her in as his ward and she grew up with access to the best education and scholarly texts Prythian could offer. Rhysand later made her head of the Night Court's scholarly texts, education, and research. She spent more of her life in Night than Day, but she never went so long without seeing the man who gave her all she had.

She used to tell Azriel she would take him on vacation to Day to meet Helion. He of course had met the man before but they had been the Spymaster of Night and High Lord of Day, Addie wanted them to meet as 'two of the people she loved more than anyone'.

They never did get that vacation.

And as Azriel finally looked down at her, Helion's gift to her felt like a cruel punishment to him.

6 months later, she was still as ethereal as she was the last time he saw her, but she was still just as dead.

This was where he would remain, his final request was to be laid to rest in the same building. He would be adding unnecessary pain onto his loved ones who had suffered so much already, but for the first time in his life, Azriel had decided to put himself in front of his family.

Looking her over one last time, he realized he was now completely numb.

Azriel held the gifted blanket and went to take off the one she currently had. Based off the fact it seemed to have been picked out with meticulous care to match Adelaide's coloring, and her outfit, there was no doubt it had been placed there by Mor.

On her lap, previously being covered by the blanket, laid a large and very old book.

Had one of the scholars she worked with placed it? One of the educators?

Strange marks littered the cover, but no title. Not till he opened the first page did he see what it was.

The Walking Dead

A cruel pick. Who would ever leave such a book with a corpse?

The second page was blank, so was the third, so was the fourth. Thumbing through the book, Azriel just about gave up looking at the blank pages when he finally found one with writing.

It seemed to be a poem, but it was formatted too strangely.

The title at the top read Eternally Intertwined.

A spell.

He almost dropped the book at the realization.

No one had left this book, it had been fate that had given it to him, kept it here waiting for him to stumble upon it.

He knew what he needed to do.

#acotar #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #rhysand angst #rhysand x reader #azriel angst #azriel #acotar fic #rhysand x oc #azriel x oc #~ lia's betrayal series ~#rhysand

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apomaro-mellow · 2 months ago

Note

I saw a tiktok of steve asking kas!eddie what he wanted to eat and it's the vine audio of "the souls of the innocent" "a bagel" "nooooo" "two bagel" with eddie saying a bagel and vecna as the other voice. And now I'm like a craxk steddie fic from vecna's perspective would be soooooo funny. Like imagine he resurrects eddie as kas and thinks he'll be this great asset and spy, but he's just too *heart eyes* at steve to ba a) useful and b) controlled lmao. Eddie will be sitting in on some sort of planning session and vecna piggybacking in his mind is like "finally! an advantage!" But then steve will stretch or something and eddie just hones in on the sliver of his stomach he can see and his horny thoughts are too loud for vecna to hear the "master plan" anymore

hehehehe here's the vine for anyone that wants culture

His body was badly damaged. But his mind was as strong as ever. It was child's play to connect with Eddie Munson and use the forces of the Upside Down to repair his body into something usable. The boy fought, but then he reminded him of all of the pain he'd gone through, all the regrets, the people he had to leave behind and soon enough, their goals were one. They made it to the surface and sought out those he knew.

Surely they were already planning their next counter. But he couldn't allow that. With this body though, he could blend in seamlessly. They would welcome their resurrected friend with open arms.

"Steve?"

'Ah yes, Steve.' Eddie had quite a few regrets when it came to this one. Henry didn't realize it yet, but most of his problems would come from Steve Harrington.

When he considered the biggest obstacles, of course that title went to Eleven. Among the rest, Nancy Wheeler was probably the most dangerous after that. But beyond her, the rest were mere ants. He only knew as much as he needed to know for his own ends. It was why he knew Steve was important to Eddie.

He had simply underestimated how important.

He also overestimated his control when it came to this body. He was a mere passenger. And try as he might, he just couldn't get Eddie to tap into that rage and fury that had brought him back to life.

'They left you for dead! Kill them!'

"Eddie, how's this one look?", Steve asked, turning around in the outfit he'd chosen.

Vecna found his voice drowned out with Eddie's heart thumping in his own ears. Apparently there was something fetching about Steve in his summer shorts.

-------------------------

"Hey Eddie, what d'you feel like eating?", Steve said as he perused take out menus.

'Tell him how you hunger for flesh. How you wish to rend him limb from limb and feast on his blood.'

"Chinese sounds really good right now."

'Noo!!'

"Can we get orange chicken?"

----------------------------

He had thought they'd all but given up on trying to defeat him earnestly but was proven wrong when a meeting was called. Vecna felt vindication rising as everyone gathered and Nancy took the helm, laying out what had happened and what they'd done so far. And Eddie was listening intently. He knew he'd be important to their plan. He had new abilities and a connection to the Upside Down now. This was perfect! Now he'd know exactly what they were planning and they would be none the wiser. Still, no one had figured out he was looking through their trusted friend's eyes.

"Alright, listen up because there's more phases to the plan this time", Nancy said. "We've got more people and that's more ground to cover, but it's important that everyone knows their part and sticks to it." She gave Eddie a meaningful look.

'Yeess. Yeeeeeeeessssss', Vecna grinned as she began to lay out the first part of the plan.

And then Steve had to go and yawn and stretch his arms and suddenly Eddie's eyes weren't on Nancy's face anymore but on that tiny sliver of stomach as Steve's shirt rose.

'Noooooooooooo', Vecna wailed as Nancy's voice was drowned out with how much Eddie wanted to nibble on that stomach.

-------------------------

He was losing his patience with his predicament. Every time he called Eddie to heel went unanswered. It was infuriating to be reduced to this. His forces might not be ready quite yet, but it was time to put an end to this.

"I got the popcorn!", Dustin exclaimed.

"Sodas on deck", Lucas announced.

"What's the flick?", Steve asked, sitting down next to Eddie.

Vecna would call upon the powers he had and open up another portal. One that would spell the end of Hawkins and the world. Movie night be damned.

"Secret of NIMH", Dustin said, putting the movie in.

....He could wait another day. He hadn't seen this one yet.

#apo writes #stranger things #steddie #kas!eddie #vecna/henry/001 #a full fic could definitely lead to more comedic moments #best i could do is this rn tho

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multific · 4 months ago

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Healing the Emperor's Heart

Emperor Caracalla x Reader

Summary: You were to care for him. Instead, you loved him.

From the first day, you were assigned to care for Caracalla.

When you met him, his appearance startled you.

He appeared worn and weak, a shadow of the man others whispered about in the palace corridors.

Your role was more than that of a servant. You were trusted to tend to his every need and ensure his comfort.

Your days became routines entwined with his. Each morning, you prepared herbal remedies and charmed him into eating.

At first, Caracalla resisted your efforts, his pride bruised by your efforts. He barely acknowledged your presence. Because if he ignored you, you would go away.

But you didn't. Instead, you stayed.

Slowly, he began to change. His eyes lingered on you longer, his tone softened when he called your name, and his occasional questions about you became sincere and kind.

One quiet evening, he decided to speak up.

“Why do you bother with me?” His voice was low.

“Because I was tasked by your brother.”

“Many would refuse such a task."

"Not me, Emperor Caracalla. I believe everyone has some good in them."

“You’re either brave or a fool.” For a moment, his expression faltered, a flicker of vulnerability shining through.

“Perhaps both, My Emperor” You offered a faint smile with an aching heart. "Please, drink your tea." you handed him the cup which he took.

It was the first time you gave him the medicine.

After that, you gave it to him daily. A little into his daily tea which was prepared by you, so he never failed to drink it.

The medicine gradually began to take effect.

Day by day, Caracalla’s strength grew, and his eyes got clearer and clearer.

The haze clouding his mind slowly lifted, and his thoughts sharpened.

The transformation was impossible to ignore, and soon enough, his brother, Geta, took notice.

It was after a rather quiet afternoon that you were summoned to Emperor Geta’s chamber.

You felt uneasy as he looked you up and down.

“What have you given him?” he demanded, his voice cold and sharp.

“Tea to ease his suffering, nothing more, Your Majesty.” You chose your words carefully.

“Do not take me for a fool. My brother’s sudden recovery defies explanation. What are you hiding?” His tone grew more vicious.

"I meant no harm. And he is a lot better." you tried defending yourself.

Geta punched his chair as his anger grew.

"I'm not going to ask any more, what did you give him?"

Before you could respond, the door swung open, and Caracalla stormed in.

“Leave them, Brother” Caracalla ordered, his voice firm.

“You trust them so completely, yet you fail to see how—”

“Enough,” Caracalla interrupted. “You will not question their loyalty. They have done more for me than the doctors ever have.”

Geta’s lips pressed into a thin line.

"I'm not angry because you helped him, I only wish to know how you did it when all doctors said we should give up." Geta's tone softened.

"Tea, My Lord I can assure you. Tea my grandmother taught me how to make." you replied.

Geta simply nodded before he left, closing the door behind himself.

Caracalla stepped closer, his expression was soft as his eyes met yours.

“You shouldn’t have come,” you murmured, your voice tinged with worry. “I could handle him.”

“I won’t stand by while my brother questions someone so important to me.”

Your breath caught, his words catching you off guard. “Important?” you echoed softly.

He reached for your hand, his touch warm and steady. “You’ve given me more than my health. You’ve given me hope. A second chance in life.”

“Caracalla…” you began, but he silenced you with a gentle look.

“There’s something I must say,” he continued, his voice low. “You’ve brought light to my life. You healed my illness and my heart. I wish to marry you.”

“Will you marry me?” Your heart raced as he knelt before you, his gaze filled with sincerity. An Emperor kneeling in front of a simple servant.

Tears blurred your vision as words failed you in the moment.

"I would be a fool to say no to you. But I'm simply a servant. I am no Empress."

"Of course you are." He rose, pulling you close, and his lips met yours in a kiss that was tender yet full of promise. "You are my Empress."

In that moment, nothing else mattered.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

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noxitsnox · 18 days ago

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rivals in rhythm - ch. iii

jake sim x m!reader

summary: jake and y/n make up after their fight

tags: hurt/comfort, 8th member reader, jakes needs and deserves a hug, rivals to lovers, really really slow burn, use or y/n, heeseung became the group therapist, f/idol used cause I didn't wanna bring any girl into this

a/n: this took way too long, sorry :((( april was such a horrible month let's not talk about it.

anywaysss my requests are open so yk send them in!

m.list prev next

you were so cool about this whole situation. really, confronting jake and moving forward didn't bother you at all. the fact that you didn't even have the courage to look the poor guy in the face was completely unrelated.

for once, you realized your actions had consequences and this was the direct consequence to years of- not so- silent resentment. the moment jake started disliking you too, something you wished for ages, you realized you actually wanted to befriend him.

for years jake has eaten crumbs of your affection from the palms of your hands and you have ignored him, even hated him, but now that he has found a better plate to eat from you realized you wanted to offer him a whole banquet.

it's true that he who has bread has no teeth.

for the whole day you went close to him, opened your mouth to talk and then walked away without saying anything. you could feel heeseung's disappointed eyes on you every single time.

who decided that apologizing had to be so difficult?

“jake, can we talk after we're done with practice? after everyone else leaves, i mean.”

“uh… sure, yeah."

and you were one step closer to your goal.

now you just had to think about what you had to say.

your first instinct was to get mad, accuse him of being selfish and lazy, that he didn't belong in the band and that he never even tried to. why? there wasn't really a reason why, it was the easiest way to deal with your emotions. jake had always had a weird effect on you, you couldn't think rationally when he was near. whether it was hate or something else entirely, he made your heart burn like no one else ever has; even your past partners couldn't compete. they said love and hate were similar, that they made you feel the same way… but to you, hate had a much stronger grip than love. so much that when the object of your hate wasn't paying it any mind anymore you felt lost and empty.

but thankfully practice was hours long and you had time to think about it and change your mind, practice a more normal and less accusatory speech in your head.

your dancing was off because of all this thinking and jake offered to help you with the choreo. humiliating. really, why him of all people? eight members, seven without you, and he had to make that comment.

---

“jake, i think we've come too far… things have gotten weird between us-” “things were always weird.”

he was tired. he talked to heeseung to try and understand you. heeseung to just ignore your behavior, that it would make you stop even acknowledging his presence… which yeah, it was good, but he really wanted to be friends, or at least someone you know. you lived and worked together, what was the point in ignoring each other? that's not how he wanted to live.

maybe it was better off this way.

no matter how much he tried to befriend you, he'd always fucked up in some way on another. you hated him, obviously, and he just had to match your vibe. after all, why would you want to be nice to someone who is not nice to you? shouldn't he have some self respect?

the more he thought about it the more reasons he had to hate you.

and he was convinced that he would never change his mind about you… but then you went and asked him to talk and his heart simply melted. he was too kind, but he didn't want to show you were already forgiven so he decided to act mad for a little while. it wasn't difficult, he thought, he'd just have to act a bit colder, distant.

he was wrong, it was so unnatural. to be mad and to act mad were two very different things.

“y/n, why do you do this? it's like you already hated me before even knowing me, i never had a chance with you.”

silence.

you looked down at the floor, suddenly so interested in the parquet. that was the whole point, jake- you thought. you don't have a reason.

“that's just the way i feel, there's no reason why…” a whisper, barely audible as if you almost wished he wouldn't hear you. “but, i wanna change that. i really do.”

jake looked at you, unconvinced and unbothered. it was so uncharacteristic of him, a shiver ran down your spine. "yeah, let's see about that."

and if you had doubts before, you definetely didn't have them now. seeing jake so down is always bad, enough to ruin your day. It's like leaving your house expecting sunshine and finding rain...

---

the next few days were a bit awkward but not too bad. you barely interacted with jake, but when you did you tried to refrain from teasing him. good way to move on. slowly the two of you became closer, you even managed a few hang outs without fighting.

jake was back to being his old sun kissed self and you, well you for some reason never stopped feeling like you hated him. it wasn't really about what you actually felt like towards him, it's just that your heart never stopped beating so fast when he was near, and that feeling of lunch moving in your stomach was still there every time he talked to you. it was exhausting, even now that you were trying to like him your body was forcing you to do the opposite.

heeseung once tried telling you that maybe those things weren't caused by the hate. you didn't understand what he meant until today.

you were scrolling on twitter before going to bed, someone complained about uni, others about life in general and everything was normal until you saw that one post:

enhypen jake spotted on a date with f/idol.

when you saw those pictures you felt a part of you sink down in thw ocean. it was wrong, you knew how the media worked by now. every single interaction with a idol of the different sex was enough to start a ship and you knew so well that this was exactly what happened. but for some reason, even the distant idea that maybe jake was in a relationship with anyone caused you a huge sense of discomfort. you felt empty, your heart was heavy in your chest.

finally you understood heeseung's words. it wasn't hate, but the complete opposite. maybe, just maybe you had a crush on jake.

that would be the first time in so lon- with a schedule so packed you didn't have time to have crushes. how were you even supposed to deal with it?

@exactlyinfp @rairaiblog @nootnootpinguuu @gnusihcom @scary-thingz @naelvze

#jake sim x reader #jake x male reader #jake x reader #jake sim x y/n #sim jake x you #sim jake x reader #jake sim #enhypen jake #enhypen #enhypen x male reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen x you #🌋:enha

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pascallftv · 1 year ago

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eighties baby

summary: your parents throw an 80’s themed party in their mansion. you try your best to contain your infatuation for joel, your dad’s best friend. you and your friend get a little too drunk and joel decides to teach you a lesson.

content: joel miller x reader, no outbreak, little plot, dbf!joel, reader in her twenties

warnings: CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT. 18+ mdni!, age gap is 20s/50, piv unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), cream pie, doggystyle, dirty talk, choking

an: i’m baaaaaack ;) this was… wow! pls enjoy

“Your ass looks immaculate.”

You glance over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror, locking eyes with your best friend. She’s giving you wild eyes while biting her bottom lip that’s covered in bright red lip stick. Her makeup was done very vibrantly compared to usual; blue eyeshadow with bright pink blush.

“You don’t think it’s too short?” You ask, popping a hip to accentuate your ass further under your very tight and very short mini skirt. Typically, you wouldn’t mind if a little bit of cheek was hanging out the bottom of your skirt, but this was your parents’ party, not your typical college party. Your best friend rolled her eyes and you and laid a smack down on your ass. You yelped in surprise.

“It’s perfectly fine. It’ll be dark.” She begins, then her voice lowers. “Plus, Joel will want to eat you alive when he sees you in it.”

You bite your bottom lip to fight back a grin. She knew you too well. You sighed and placed your hands on your hip, your head turning to the side as your further inspect your outfit in your full length mirror. You decided to go with an 80s glam rock look instead of the typical vibrant colors from the time period. You were wearing a tight black leather skirt and matching top, with knee high platform boots with silver chains on them. You had grungy black eyeshadow matched with a glossy red lip. You felt hot.

“I can’t be too obvious. You cannot let me get too drunk tonight.” You say sternly. You were talking more to yourself than anything. You knew if you drank too much alcohol you would make a fool out of yourself in front of Joel.

Joel was your father’s main man. They’d known each other for decades now. Joel was a stern man; the crinkles by his eyes from his fifty years of wisdom weren’t usually intensified by joy, more by scowls. You’d like to think at one point he was a light hearted man, but you can’t help but wonder what in his years turned him into such a sour puss. You could count on one hand the amount of times you’d seen him genuinely laugh. It was an extremely rare occurrence, but the times he had, it was the most amazing sound you’d ever heard.

“Fine. But this is your chance to act as unhinged as you want because in the morning you can blame the alcohol.” Your best friend winks at you, patting you once more on the bum.

“You’re a terrible influence.” You turn to face her. Your shorter friend stares up at you with a devilish grin and runs her thumb along your bottom lip, cleaning up your red lipstick.

“We should head down there, take a couple shots, scope it out.” She suggests, grabbing your perfume off your vanity and spritzing it on the both of you a few times. You nod in agreement, and check your outfit in the mirror one last time. You take a deep breath and grab your friend’s hand to leave your bedroom. The 80s music was already thumping from your parent’s massive surround sound speakers downstairs. The lights were off, with the sole light source being a couple lamps and some red lights your parents used for their annual Halloween party.

When you made it downstairs, the house was already packed out. The entire neighborhood was in your parents’ house. All of the couples in the neighborhood were in attendance, as well as their children (all in their twenties or older). If you squinted hard enough, it even looked like a college party. The lighting was just enough to see the basic traits of everyone’s faces, most of them being somewhat recognizable to you. You had just graduated from college earlier that month, so you were home temporarily until you found your full-time calling.

Your friend dragged you to the kitchen where all of the alcohol was stashed. On the island, there was a lineup of liquor with the appropriate mixers. She decided to pour you each a hefty shot of tequila, as well as a lime wedge. You absolutely hated any dark liquor, and unfortunately vodka had been tainted for you in your time at college, so tequila was the sole surviving option for you. You didn’t mind the taste of tequila, but the catch was its effect on you. Unlike other forms of liquor, tequila made you incredibly horny. After around 4 tequila shots, you had the tendency to shed off articles of clothing like you were battling a heat wave. This made you nervous considering you knew Joel would be in attendance; however, as your friend said, you can use the liquor as a scapegoat if it got that bad.

As you and your friend shot back your tequila, you began wondering where Joel could be. The party started over thirty minutes ago, and it was uncharacteristic of him to be late, meaning he was in the house somewhere. The thought alone made your skin crawl.

“One more.” Your friend called out over the music, pouring you each another hefty shot. Your eyes got wide. You knew you’d have to take a break from drinking after this shot, otherwise you’d end up butt ass naked in the middle of this party.

Another hefty shot later, and you were already feeling the buzz from the alcohol. Your veins felt tingly and your limbs felt weightless. You each made yourselves your mixed drink of choice, and decided to make your way out to the makeshift dance floor in your parents’ spacious living room. They had a portable disco floor, as well as a disco ball hung from the ceiling. No one took parties more seriously than your parents.

Your friend grabbed your arm and pulled you onto the dance floor, with “Talking in Your Sleep” by the Romantics blasting from the speakers. Your eyes wandered around the room trying to find the brown eyed man you’d be longing to see. Sure enough, you spotted him. He was sitting on the sofa, leaning back with his legs spread out in front of him. He had a glass of what appeared to be whiskey in his hand, resting on his thigh. You gulped when you noticed he was already looking at you. You quickly looked away and took a sip of the tequila sour you half-assed at the kitchen makeshift bar.

You made eye contact with your friend, and you gave her panic eyes to let her know you found him. She caught on almost instantly, and took that as a queue to scoot out of your line of sight. She leaned closer to you to say something in your ear.

“Go sit next to him.” She suggested loudly into your ear.

You shot her a look of unease. Wouldn’t that be too obvious? You shook your head no rapidly in response. It was too early in the night for you to do something as ballsy as that.

After about half an hour, your friend’s drink was empty and she was dragging you back to the kitchen. Your drink was still three-fourths full. Your stomach was bubbling with anxiety knowing that Joel had a direct view of you in your anything but conservative outfit. Besides, you were scared for your actions if you ingested any more alcohol.

Your friend took two more shots and mixed herself another strong cocktail. You knew she was going to be shitfaced in the matter of minutes. You rub your forehead and sigh. It’s going to be a quick night for her.

Your predictions were correct.

Forty minutes passed and her cocktail was gone, and so was she. She was so plastered that she couldn’t stand up straight, constantly grabbing your arm for support. You looked around the room and immediately made eye contact with Joel. He’s watching the both of you intensely, his head nodding over to the side as he observes your friend stumbling around. You’re fully embarrassed at how gone your friend was already. Your stomach flips when you noticed Joel was lifting himself off his spot in the sofa, making his way towards the both of you. He grabbed onto your arm, a look of concern crossing his features.

“Come on.” He said shortly, moving his arm from yours to hers, helping her stand up somewhat straight. “Let’s take her upstairs.”

You glanced down at your friend and her head was lulling to the side, her eyes fluttering shut. There was no salvaging her. You nodded in response to Joel and helped him practically carry your friend upstairs to your bedroom. After her nearly falling every few steps, you finally make it to your bedroom. You noticed Joel’s eyes wandering around the walls of your room as he took in the decor. You had various band posters still hanging in your childhood bedroom, many of them being 60’s rock bands that your dad showed you. You gently lay your friend down onto your bed, and almost immediately she’s snoring.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry about this, Joel.” You mutter, looking up at him with apologetic eyes. You absentmindedly toy with your hands in front of you. Despite the shots you did take, you were still feeling nervous; the liquid courage wasn’t doing its job.

Joel stepped closer to you and shook his head. His brown eyes were soft and his eyebrows were furrowed.

“It was nothing, really.” He assures you, taking a glance back at your friend. He was amused at just how fast your friend fell asleep. He turned back to look at you and felt something flutter deep in his gut.

He had kept his eyes in you all night. He couldn’t believe how grown you were. Sure, he had known you since you were young, but you were a woman now. You had always been pretty, but now, you were stunning. He felt disgusting about it. Of all the women in his life, none of them compared to you, his best friend’s daughter. The entire night he had watched the way your latex skirt was fighting to stay over the plump flesh of your ass. Your top wasn’t much better; it left little to the imagination, your nipples peaking through the thin fabric of it. You were genuinely perfect in his eyes, and it was causing him the most intense moral battle of his life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked quietly. His eyes were wandering over you, but he was saying nothing. It looked as though he was fighting something internally.

“What are you doing here?” He asked blandly, ignoring your question entirely. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion.

“What do you mean?” You pondered, crossing your arms over your chest, unintentionally pushing your boobs up further, placing them in perfect display for Joel.

“You could be anywhere, yet here you are drunk at your parents’ party.” He said, glancing down at your chest, hoping you wouldn’t notice, but of course you did. You chuckle in response.

“I just graduated college, Joel. I’m home temporarily until I can find something full time. What’s the matter? Am I inconveniencing you somehow?” You asked with pure sass.

“Well not entirely, no.” Joel says, stepping closer to you. “You’d think you and your friend would have a little self control considering the environment. This isn’t college, sweetheart.”

“I beg your pardon? I’ve barely drank anything. For god sake I helped you carry her.” You get defensive, emphatically gesturing towards your friend that’s passed out in your bed. “And unfortunately she could’ve been way worse than this.”

“You should’ve stopped her before she was fighting to keep herself standing.” Joel scolded you, his brows furrowing further.

“Aww what’s wrong, Joel? You have no children of your own so you have to parent me?” You snarled, stepping another inch closer to him. Joel frowns, his fist clenching at his hip.

“You’re a little fucking brat, ain’t ya?” Joel growls, getting centimeters away from your face. He was so close that you could feel his hot breath on the skin of your face.

“And you’re just a dickhead, huh?” You fire back.

Joel grabbed you by the forearm and tugged you towards your bedroom door. Before you could protest, Joel was dragging you down the hall to a spare bedroom. He swiftly pulled you inside and locked the door behind you. He grabbed you firmly by the throat, squeezing just the sides as to not restrict your airflow.

“Bit of an attitude problem, eh?” Joel spoke sternly. You gulped, gawking up into his crinkled eyes. “Might just have to sort you out.”

“What are you doing, Joel?” You squeaked out, your hand reaching up to grab ahold of his forearm. His face moved closer to yours, his eyes moving down to your crimson lips.

“I can only imagine you put on this poor excuse of a skirt to try and get someone to pay attention to you in the way you’re craving. You’re a little fucking whore, aren’t you?” Joel growls, his free hand moving down to your skirt, pulling it away from your body so it smacked back against your plump thighs. You gasped. You didn’t know how to respond to that. Was this actually happening?

After years of secretly fantasizing about a moment like this, it was finally happening, and you were flabbergasted.

“Answer me. Tell me what you are.” His grip around your throat slowly moved up to your jaw, his fingers squeezing your cheeks, making your lips purse.

You groaned in response, a hand trailing up Joel’s torso to his chest, laying a flat hand against him. His heart was beating rapidly. You glanced down and noticed the bulge straining against his vintage Levi jeans. He was enjoying this a little too much. You forced your face away from his grip, grabbing his wrist as hard as you could.

“I’m not a whore.” Your words were laced with venom. You were frustrated. Not because of the substance of Joel’s words, but because you were so fucking aroused. If it were anyone else, you probably would’ve planted a firm kick in their groin or sucker punched them in the lip. His words were disgusting, but you were eating it up.

“No?” Joel cocked his head at you. His free hand snakes up under your skirt, his fingertips pressing against your folds. His fingers were met with moisture. Your panties were soaked through. His gaze fell to his hand, then back up to your doe eyes. He smirked devilishly at you, his hand moving to your face. With his thumb, he pawed at your bottom lip, pulling it away from your teeth.

“Your cunt says otherwise, darling.” He muttered, his breath fanning across your face once more. You swallowed hard. You averted your eyes from him, his gaze making you feel entirely too hot.

“My parents.” You blurted out, your gaze returning to his momentarily. He swallows, his thumb still sitting by your mouth.

“They won’t know.” He said. You retracted your grip from his forearm, and he took that as an opportunity to run his finger up the outside of your arm painfully slow. “What’s wrong sweetheart? Scared of your daddy finding out?”

Your lips parted, a harsh exhale escaping your throat. Your body was on fire, your skin littered with goosebumps from Joel’s touch. To any normal person, this situation would be incredibly alarming. Yes, your moral compass was clawing at the back of your mind, but you craved interaction. Your morals were out the window, your desires taking superiority.

“Yes.” You whispered, your gaze falling to Joel’s lips. They were tempting you.

“If you don’t want this, stop me.”

Joel’s hand moved from your arm back towards the bottom of your skirt, pushing it up over your thighs, your red panties on full display.

“Fuck.” Joel growled, his fingertips grazing your mound through the lacy fabric. He pushed your panties to the side, his finger running through your folds, collecting your arousal. “Stop me, angel.” He teased.

His fingertip ghosted over your sensitive clit, your legs jolting in response, a whimper leaving your mouth. His mouth hovered over the soft skin of your neck, his breath stirring up goosebumps.

“S’matter sweetheart?” Joel muttered, planting a soft kiss to your throat. “Tell me what you need.”

“N-need more.” You said, your brows furrowing in desperation. You glanced down at his hand between your legs, your lower gut fluttering at the sight. He applied more pressure to the circles he was dancing over your swollen bud, the pleasure sending your head to lull backwards. You whimpered more, your legs beginning to feel like jello.

“You sound so pathetic.” Joel spat, working his fingers faster on your clit. You exhaled unevenly, your hand coming down on Joel’s bicep for stability.

You felt that familiar white heat beginning to ignite low in your belly, your cunt throbbing steadily. Your eyes squeezed shut. You were close— but Joel knew that. He wasn’t going to let you come just yet. Without warning, Joel halted his actions, his hand leaving your folds. You could’ve cried in that moment. Joel grabbed your forearm and tugged you towards the bed, pushing you down onto the duvet.

“Joel, please. I need to cum.” You whined, your head falling back into the soft mattress. Joel purses his lips at you, his hand running along the smooth skin of your leg, inching closer to where you needed his attention most.

“Jesus, sweetheart. At least you know what you want.” Joel said, squeezing the flesh of your thigh with the rough skin of his palm. “Here’s how this is gonna go. First I’m going to taste you. Then, I’m going to fuck you until you forget how to think. Got it?”

You nodded pathetically, grinding your hips down onto the mattress, desperate for some sort of friction. Joel ghosted his hands over your thighs to the seam of your latex skirt, gripping it between his fingers. In a swift motion, Joel tugged the skirt down your legs and off your body, tossing it somewhere on the floor. He left your boots on, not quite wanting to get rid of them yet. Your pussy looks so pretty underneath the transparent lace fabric of your thong. It left little to nothing to Joel’s imagination. Your breasts were spilling out of your black top, your areolas peaking out. You looked breathtaking.

“Fuck, angel. I wish you could see yourself. So pretty for me.” Joel muttered, lowering his face to your groin, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh. He ran his large hand up the back of your thigh, squeezing every few inches. You bite your lip and you stared down at his face as he littered kissed across your thighs. His salt and pepper beard added even more texture to the sensations you were feeling. He slipped his fingers underneath the fabric of your panties and slowly pulled them down your tights and over your boots, leaving your heat bare. Joel lowered his face down to your core, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive skin. He pressed a kiss to your pelvic bone, then ghosted his lips in a line down to your sensitive bud. He planted another kiss over your clit, taking his sweet time teasing you. Your pussy was throbbing at this point, desperate for any sort of touch.

“Joel please.” You pleaded, grinding your hips up towards his mouth. “I need your tongue.”

“Good girl.” He said, lowering his tongue to your folds, licking a wet stripe up your vulva, tracing a circle around your clit, sucking down on it gently. He moaned into your flesh, the vibrations sending a chill down your spine. His tongue began to work faster, flicking up and down and side to side over your clit. He brought his middle finger to your opening, ghosting circular motions over it, before slowly pushing it inside of you. You exhaled deeply at the sensation. He began pumping his finger rhythmically in and out of you, paying special attention to curl his fingertip upwards to brush against your g spot. As he felt your walls growing accustom to the girth of his singular digit, he added a second finger, pumping faster. Just from his fingers and tongue, you already felt fucked out of your mind. The pleasure sent shocks down your legs and up your spine, your head rolling back into the mattress in euphoria. A quiet moan slipped through your cherry lips, your fists grabbing the bedding for leverage to cope with the immense pleasure coursing through you.

“Joel.” You whimpered, one of your hands jetting down to grab at his hair as he lapped at your wet heat. His soft brown eyes flicked up to meet yours at the sound of your voice. Your moan went straight to his already throbbing cock.

“Christ, baby.” He groaned, lifting away from your core to unbutton his Levi’s. His hand fumbled with the zipper to get them off as fast as he could. The anticipation was killing him; he was so hard that it was beginning to hurt. He needed inside you immediately.

Finally managing to slide his jeans down his legs, his cock was straining against his boxers. The tent was revealing in itself; you already knew he was packing a punch. It felt painfully slow, but finally Joel slipped off his boxers, revealing his erection. Leaking at the tip, he brushed his thumb over, cleaning up the precum that had accumulated from tasting you.

You sat up from the mattress and grabbed his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his. Your lips moved against his in a passionate rush. You could taste yourself on his lips. Another whimper rose from your throat, the moan vibrating off his lips. The sound of your wet kiss filled the room as he lowered his body over yours to lay you back down against the bed. His hand moved from his cock to your breast, pulling it out of your top and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck.” He muttered against your lips as you rocked your hips into his. You needed his touch desperately.

“Fuck me.” You breathed out, pulling away to look him in the eye. “Please.”

That was all Joel needed to hear. He reached down to take his cock in his hand again, guiding his top to press into your folds. He ran back and forth against your slick, his precum mixing with your arousal. His eyebrows furrowed in pleasure as he felt your wetness already beginning to coat him. His eyes lifted back to meet yours as he began to slowly press his tip into your entrance, the stretch already making you feel crazed. Your lips parted, an exhale escaping your lips as he pressed himself into your further. Your hands darted up to grab onto his biceps as leverage. He lowered down to your lips, pressing a slow, gentle kiss to them as he pushed his length inside of you to the hilt. Another moan escaped your lips.

“Y’okay?” Joel breathed out, slowly pumping in and out of you, allowing you time to adjust. You nodded your head, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“More.” You begged. “I need more.”

Joel ran his hand from your thigh up your belly, dragging his finger tip slowly to take in every inch of your skin. He reached your neck, wrapping his calloused fingertips around your throat, carefully squeezing on the sides. He leaned down to meet your lips, taking your bottom lip between his teeth momentarily.

“So fucking needy.” He grumbled against your mouth, his eyelids fluttering closed.

Suddenly, Joel began pounding into you. His hot breath fanned over your face as he rammed in and out of you, his length reached the deepest parts of you. You gasped, your hand reached up to grab his wrist that was busy squeezing your throat. Your eyes rolled back in your head and he slammed into you over and over. You were sure he was hitting you so deep that he was nicking your cervix. Just when you thought you couldn’t be more overwhelmed with pleasure, Joel’s free hand snaked between your thighs, his thumb finding your clit, ghosting gentle circles over the sensitive nub. You squeaked out a moan, the pleasure overcoming your senses completely. Your legs began to shake from the stimulation, your lower belly muscles tensing from the overwhelming sensation. Your breath was shaking, the oxygen feeling as through it had completely left your lungs.

“F-fuck.” You stuttered as Joel thrusted into you. “I’m close.”

Joel took this as an opportunity to slide out of you, wasting no time in flipping you onto your belly, laying a hard slap against your bare ass cheek. He groaned as your ass jiggled from the slap, his hand coming back down to grab a handful of your flesh. You pressed your face down into the duvet, letting out a moan. Your pussy was throbbing from the sudden lack of attention. You wiggled your hips, nonverbally begging for Joel’s cock. He chucked, slapping your ass once more before pressing himself back at your entrance, ramming into you fully, his hips meeting your ass in a rush. He grabbed a cheek with his rough fingertips, pulling your ass apart to get a full view of himself slamming into you. Your tightest hole was on perfect display for him.

“One day I’m going to claim you here too.” Joel growled, his fingertip grazing the ring of your asshole. You gasped, your forehead coming down onto the bedding, pressing your face down into the duvet to cover your moan. “You’d like that wouldn’t you? Me claiming your tight little ass as mine?”

You nodded rapidly, a straggled breath leaving your mouth. It was so goddamn hard for your mind to focus on anything except the feeling of his tip grazing the opening of your cervix with every thrust. Once again, Joel reached his hand down to toy at your clit, bringing you closer to your climax. The white heat hit you again as your legs began to shake under you. Joel wasn’t far behind you, and his pace wasn’t easing up.

His hips met yours hard and fast, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls of the spare bedroom. If it weren’t for the music thumping downstairs, your sinful act would’ve already been heard throughout the entire house. Joel leaned down, kissing you against your spine, his hand kneading your ass.

“F-fuck, where do you want me? Your mouth? Or should I fill you up?” Joel grunted, his hand snaking around your front to firmly grab your breast, pinching your nipple between his fingertips.

You gasped, the stimulation for your nipple slipping you into the beginning of your orgasm. You didn’t answer him, the feeling of your impending climax completely taking over your body.

“Look at you cumming around my cock. Such a good fucking slut.” Joel growled, his pace somehow quickening further. His hand reached up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of locks and pulling your head backwards. His other hand reached around to your throat as he bent down to kiss you from the intense angle, your orgasm taking over you entirely. Your toes began to curl beneath you, your pussy clamping around Joel’s cock that was twitching deep inside you. Your pussy clenched down around his length, hugging it perfectly.

“Fuck.” Joel whimpered, his high hitting him like a train. Your spasming canal clamped down around him as he came in hot spurts, coating your walls deep inside of you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every ounce of cum from his length.

His thrusts slowed as his seed filled you up, his hands grabbing your hips for stability as he came the hardest he’d ever came in his life. He moaned as he slowly slipped his spent cock out of you, some of his release dripping out of your used up hole. The sight was intoxicating.

“Fuck.” Joel breathed out again, taking in the ruined state of your folds. He ran his fingers down your slick, mixing his cum with yours. You flinched at the sensitivity of your pussy, whining as he brushed over your clit.

You were spent. Your face was still pressed against the mattress, your ass still perched in the air. Joel’s cum was slowly leaking out of you, and you couldn’t bring yourself to move. You were too fucked out of your mind to notice that Joel had left the bed to retrieve a wet rag from the attached bathroom. You winced as he gently cleaned up the juices spilling from you.

“You look so beautiful with my cum dripping out of you.” He spoke, running a hand up and down the back of your thigh. He pressed a kiss to your sore ass cheek from where he had smacked it.

You rolled over onto your back, your tender breasts jiggling from the movement. Joel leaned down and took a breast into his mouth, gently sucking on your hardened nipple.

“As much as I’d love to stay here and fuck you all night, I should go before your daddy starts to wonder where we went.” Joel said, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips.

A pit grew deep in your gut at the thought of Joel leaving you, but you knew the nature of this interaction and it would be silly of you to expect any different. You gazed up at him and frowned.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Joel shook his head and straightened up, moving his attention to dress himself. He began buttoning his flannel that he’d taken off during your interaction at some point that you hadn’t noticed. You watched in silence as he pulled his boxers and Levi’s back up over his legs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” Joel said after he was fully dressed. You were still laying on the bed completely nude attempting to recover from the mindblowing sex you’d just endured. Joel walked towards the door, turning briefly to look at your one last time.

“You might want to get dressed, sweetheart. Hate to have your daddy walk in to see my cum spilling out of you.” He winked, then disappeared out of the door, leaving you alone fucked out of your mind.

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