#high back executive office chair | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hollyoongs · 1 month ago

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Anytime I'm alone, I can't help thinking about you (ariana grande - everyday) All I want, all I need, honestly, it's just me and you

ᨓ 。secretary!karina x ceo!fem reader ꒰✒️꒱﹕smut with plot ﹕+7k contains: smut, masturbation at work (freaky), they are horny for each other but reader is too blind, mention of sexual toys, pet names (slut, needy girl, good girl) d/s dynamics (they are both giving switch), spanking (not so hard, a couple times), oral (both receiving). The text inside a separator like this (━━━━━━☆━━━━━━) is a flashback. Never used Y/N in a story, but this mini series is an exception.

The power you held was absolute, unquestionable. Every decision you made rippled through the walls of your company, and no one dared to challenge it. The glass of your office windows reflected that authority—high above, unreachable. Until Karina came along.

She was efficient, poised, always dressed impeccably in tight skirts and button-up shirts that hugged her curves. And let's not forget a messy yet elegant hairstyle that showed her beautiful features, her shy behavior was her charm in contrast to how she matched your dominant energy at meetings. Her folder, always organized at her side, held her carefully crafted questions—ones that left executives speechless and you with a proud smile.

Karina was flawless in her role. But the way she handled herself wasn’t the only thing that made you notice her. It was the subtle tension that built over time she gave after a couple months of working with you, the lingering glances that lasted a little too long, the accidental touches that felt anything but accidental. She had a way of breaking through your perfect walls, and you hated that you started to like it.

Meetings became the highlight of your day, watching how she tactically maneuvered through conversations, challenging others with a grace that had you hooked. Every time she met your eyes after silencing an executive’s weak argument, you felt that pang of proudness with something more dangerous hidding there—desire.

It became more than professionalism. It was the way her fingers brushed against yours when she handed you documents, how her breath would hitch just barely when she stood close to you to discuss quarterly reports. That composed exterior of hers cracked just enough for you to notice how deeply the tension simmered beneath the surface.

But you kept it together. After all, you were the CEO. Control was what you thrived on. You had never let anyone, especially someone under your employ, cause you to lose your grip on that power. Until that day, damn that fucking day.

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It was right after a meeting, but it wasn't as perfect as usual. You could feel your anger boiling inside you, the marketing group of the company did quick and bad reports and handed them to Karina. You both walked to your office, Karina was more worried about your state after rescheduling the meeting and organizing one with the marketing group that day in a few hours.

"Do you want a glass of water, maybe some iced tea?" Karina asked, her voice soft but laced with concern as she watched you angrily pull at the tie of your perfectly tailored suit. Her eyes trailed over your movements, the slow reveal of skin as you undid the top button of your shirt. She should have been focused on calming you down, but instead, she was mesmerized by the way your chest rose and fell with each frustrated breath.

"Karina, I'm so fucking mad," you snapped, tossing the tie onto the chair as you collapsed into it. "They had a month to do this, and the work looks like a first-year university student could have done it better." You slammed the papers on your desk, the sound echoing through the room, but it was the sight of you sinking into the chair, head thrown back and eyes closed in an attempt to relax, that caught her attention.

She was supposed to be concerned, worried about the upcoming meeting, but all she could focus on was the way your shirt opened slightly at the top, revealing the valley of your breasts. Her gaze lingered there longer than it should have. She liked you like this—angry, vulnerable, undone.

"I'm going to bring some iced tea and let you relax until the meeting with the marketing team," Karina said softly, doing a small bow. You opened your eyes at her gesture, watching her.

"Don't come to the meeting with the group. You can go early today, Karina," you replied, standing up and grabbing your tie once more. As you slipped it back on, you glanced in the mirror a few feet away from your desk, your reflection staring back at you, still tense from the mess earlier. "And don’t worry, I’ll go get my tea. I need some fresh air."

Your purse and phone in hand, you walked toward Karina, stopping right in front of her. She stood still, her wide eyes following your every move. Without thinking too much, you reached out, wrapping her in a small hug. Her body stiffened in surprise as you pressed a soft kiss to her cheek.

"Thank you for everything you’ve done, Karina," you whispered. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

The sincerity in your voice lingered in the air, and before she could react, you pulled away and walked out of the office, leaving Karina standing there, frozen in place. Her mind raced, still processing the fact that you—her boss, the person she'd been secretly harboring a crush on for months—had just kissed her.

She turned slowly, her gaze fixed on your hips swaying as you walked away, the loose fabric of your office pants hanging just right. She swallowed hard, heat flooding her cheeks as her thoughts ran wild. She’d always admired the way you moved, the confidence that radiated from you even in moments of frustration. But seeing you like this, relaxed, offering a rare glimpse of your softer side—it was almost too much.

For a moment, she stood in the empty office, her fingers brushing over the spot on her cheek where your lips had touched. She replayed your words over and over in her mind. "I don’t know what I would do without you."

Her heart raced, her mind torn between professionalism and the burning attraction that had been growing for months. She wondered if you knew. If you felt it too.

Hours had passed since your kiss on her cheek, and Karina had tried her best to focus on her work, but the tension had only grown more unbearable. She watched you as you worked late into the evening, your brow furrowed as you wrapped up some final documents. The sight of you, so composed, so in control, only made her more restless.

Karina shifted uncomfortably in her seat, her panties soaked through as her body responded to the images that wouldn’t stop playing in her mind—your lips against her cheek, the warmth of your embrace, the casual dominance you exuded. She couldn't take it anymore.

Excusing herself quietly, she slipped out of the office and headed straight for the bathroom. The building was nearly empty by now, long after most employees had gone home. Her steps quickened as she entered the spacious corporate bathroom, relief flooding her as she realized there were no cameras, no one to catch her in this state.

She felt a mix of shame and desire as she jumped to the large sink, giving her back to the mirror, her breath shaky as she slipped her fingers under her skirt and tugged her soaked panties down. The cool air hit her damp entrance, making her shiver. Karina bit her lip, her fingers grazing her slit as she sat on the edge of the sink, her legs spread wide.

Her mind wandered immediately back to you—the way you had looked at her earlier, the way your lips brushed her cheek, the heat of your body so close to hers. She imagined your hands on her, how strong and sure they would feel, gripping her hips, pulling her against you.

She moaned softly, her fingers circling her clit as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the fantasy. She could see you now, standing in front of her, watching her with that same cocky smile you always had in meetings. Your eyes dark with lust, your chest pressing against hers as you leaned in, your breath hot against her skin.

"Fuck, just like that boss." she moaned lowly, her other hand grabbing her breast to add pleasure.

Karina's breath hitched as she dipped her fingers inside herself, imagining it was you, your hands roaming her body, claiming her. Her hips bucked instinctively, chasing the pleasure that was building inside her. She bit down on her lip, hard, to keep herself from crying out as her fingers worked faster, plunging in and out of her soaked entrance.

She could picture it so vividly—the way your lips would feel on hers, rough and demanding, the way you would push her up against the wall of your office, your body dominating hers completely. She wanted it. God, she wanted you. She wanted you to take control, to take her apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but pure, raw desire.

“Oh… Y/N…” Karina moaned, her voice barely a whisper in the empty bathroom, but it felt deafening to her ears. The way your name slipped past her lips only fueled the heat burning inside her. She pressed her fingers deeper, her slick walls clenching around them as she imagined it was you filling her, your hands all over her body, dominating her just like she craved.

Her breath came in short, ragged gasps as her hips rocked against her hand. Each stroke of her fingers was a reminder of how much she wanted you, how much she needed you to claim her. In her mind, she could feel your hands gripping her hips, pulling her roughly against you, your lips trailing heated kisses down her neck, leaving marks that only she would know were there.

“More… please,” she whimpered, her other hand teasing her breast through the fabric of her blouse, pinching her nipple between her fingers. The sensation made her arch her back, pressing harder against the cold mirror behind her. The contrast between the chill of the glass and the heat of her body sent shivers down her spine.

Karina’s movements became more frantic, her fingers plunging deeper and faster inside her dripping core as she imagined the moment when you’d finally snap. When you’d push her onto your desk, your eyes dark with lust, and tear off her clothes without a second thought. She could see the look on your face—the raw desire as you took control, your lips crashing against hers in a bruising kiss, your body pressing her into submission.

The fantasy felt so real that Karina could almost taste your lips, feel the roughness of your touch as you claimed her in every way she’d dreamed of. Her hips bucked wildly, chasing the orgasm that was quickly building, her body trembling with need.

“Y/N… fuck, please…” Her voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath as her body teetered on the edge. The slick sounds of her fingers moving in and out of her soaked entrance filled the bathroom, the echo only making her wetter.

And then it hit her—a blinding wave of pleasure that ripped through her, making her whole body tremble. Her back arched violently, her legs shaking as she came hard, her walls clenching around her fingers. A strangled moan escaped her lips, and she quickly bit down on her hand to stifle the sound, her heart pounding in her chest.

She sat there for a moment, slumped against the sink, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Her body was still buzzing with the aftershocks of her orgasm, her fingers coated in her arousal. She stared at herself in the mirror, her flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled hair a stark contrast to the composed secretary she tried so hard to be around you.

But she knew that no matter how hard she tried to hide it, the desire she felt for you wasn’t going away. If anything, it was growing stronger, more unbearable by the day. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out. Would you push her away? Or would you give in to the same temptation that haunted her every waking thought?

With a sigh, Karina quickly cleaned herself up and adjusted her clothes, trying to shake off the guilt that always seemed to follow these moments of weakness. But as she made her way back to her desk, one thing was clear—her need for you wasn’t just a passing fantasy.

When she opened the bathroom door, she saw you standing behind it, your cheeks red, but not as much as hers. Her solution? To ran to her stuff and to the stairs to leave the building. She was fucked, really fucked.

Karina’s heart dropped into her stomach the moment she opened the bathroom door. There you were, standing right outside, your eyes widening slightly as you met her gaze. The air between you felt heavy, charged with something undeniable, and the color on your cheeks gave away more than you probably intended. You knew. You must’ve heard her.

Her body froze for a split second, panic flooding her veins. She could see the flicker of curiosity, perhaps even amusement, in your eyes, but it only made her more anxious. She couldn’t face you—not after what she had just done, not with the sound of your name still lingering on her lips from the pleasure she’d just experienced.

Without a word, Karina darted past you, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. Her mind screamed at her to leave, to escape before she made things even worse. She didn’t dare look back as she sprinted toward her desk, her heart racing as she gathered her things in a hurried frenzy. She grabbed her bag and her coat, her fingers trembling as she fumbled with the zipper.

I'm fucked. I'm so fucking fucked.

The thoughts ran wild in her mind as she turned toward the stairs, desperate to leave the building before she had to confront you again. She couldn’t bear the thought of what you must be thinking. How long had you been standing there? Did you hear her moaning your name?

She nearly tripped over her own feet as she stumbled into the stairwell, the pounding of her heartbeat louder than her footsteps echoing in the empty space. She needed to get away—far away. Her mind was spinning, her arousal now tainted with overwhelming guilt and embarrassment. What had she done? What if you called her out? What if this ruined everything?

But as she reached the bottom floor, panting from both the run and the sheer panic consuming her, one thing stuck in her mind like an anchor:

You had been standing there. Watching her.

Karina's hands trembled as she unlocked her apartment door, barely registering the sound of it closing behind her as she hurried inside. Her mind was a blur of panic and humiliation, replaying the moment over and over again. You had been there, watching her—how much had you seen? How much had you heard?

She dropped her bag onto the floor, rushing to her desk. Her laptop sat in its usual spot, but tonight, it felt like a lifeline—a way to escape the nightmare she’d created for herself. Without thinking twice, Karina opened it, her fingers flying over the keyboard as she opened her email.

She couldn’t stay. She couldn’t face you after this. The shame was too much. She had crossed a line, and now there was no going back. Her thoughts raced as she typed out the words, her heart pounding in her chest.

Subject: Resignation Letter

Y/N, I apologize for my actions earlier today. I crossed a line I shouldn’t have, and I understand if you’ve lost any respect for me. I’ve been dealing with some personal feelings that I should never have let interfere with my work, and for that, I’m truly sorry. Effective immediately, I will be resigning from my position as your secretary. Please know that I have nothing but the utmost respect for you as a leader and a person, and I deeply regret putting our professional relationship at risk. I will come in tomorrow to submit my official resignation letter and collect my belongings. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. Sincerely, Karina.

She stared at the words on the screen, her chest tightening as she hovered over the send button. It felt like the only solution, the only way to escape the weight of her mistake.

With a deep breath, she pressed send.

The email disappeared from her screen, and with it, a part of her felt like it was breaking. All the late nights, all the effort she’d put into working for you—it was all coming to an end because of one moment of weakness.

Her phone buzzed on the desk, pulling her out of her spiraling thoughts. She picked it up, her breath catching in her throat when she saw it was a message from you.

Y/N: Karina, we need to talk. Since tomorrow is Saturday and in Chuseok the building is closed, I invite you to have a meeting in my house because I don't find it appropriate to talk about this at a restaurant. This is the direction: xxx-xxx-xx and please be there at 3pm Punctual.

Her stomach dropped.

Karina stared at the message, her heart pounding in her chest as her mind raced. You weren’t angry in the text, at least not from what she could tell, but there was a seriousness in your words that sent chills down her spine. A meeting at your house? The thought alone made her dizzy. What did you want to talk about? Did you see more than she realized?

She bit her lip, pacing around her living room as anxiety gnawed at her. She had already sent the resignation email, but this meeting seemed to complicate everything. If she didn’t show up, it would make things worse—like she was running from the situation. But going to your house? That was a whole different level of intimidation.

The clock ticked away the minutes as Karina stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The image of you standing outside the bathroom, watching her, flashed in her mind again. Had you seen her? Heard her moan your name? Her legs felt weak at the thought. God, why did I let it get this far?

But there was no escaping it now. You had invited her, and Karina knew she couldn’t avoid this confrontation forever. She needed to face you, if only to try and salvage some semblance of professionalism—or at least to explain herself.

The next day arrived too quickly, and Karina found herself standing outside your house at exactly 3 p.m., her nerves threatening to consume her as she raised her hand to knock. She was dressed conservatively, trying to hide the turmoil she felt inside, but her palms were sweating, and her heart wouldn’t stop racing.

Before her hand even made contact with the door, it swung open, and there you were. Dressed casually in a pair of slacks and a simple blouse, your eyes met hers, and Karina’s breath hitched. You looked calm, composed, yet there was something intense in your gaze—something that made her skin tingle with anticipation.

“Karina,” you said softly, stepping aside to let her in. “Come in.”

She hesitated for a moment before stepping over the threshold, her heart pounding in her chest. The atmosphere inside your house was warm, comfortable, but the tension between the two of you was undeniable.

You led her to a sitting area, and as Karina took a seat, she couldn’t help but notice how close you were to her, your presence overpowering in the quiet space. Her mind was racing, her pulse quickening as she tried to figure out what you were thinking.

“You sent me an email,” you started, your tone neutral, but there was something unreadable in your eyes. “About your resignation.”

Karina swallowed hard, nodding slightly, unable to find the words to speak. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, the weight of your gaze making her squirm.

“I read it.” You leaned back slightly, your eyes never leaving hers. “But I’m not accepting it.”

Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-you’re not?”

You shook your head. “No. I think there’s more to talk about before we make any decisions.” Your voice softened as you leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees. “Karina… you're one of my best employees, you know how many people I had to fight for them to not give you corporate cards? I can't loose you for that.”

Karina's heart was pounding, her pulse racing as she listened to your words. She couldn't believe what she was hearing—after everything, you still wanted her to stay. Her fingers trembled in her lap, the tension between the two of you thick and palpable.

"You fought for me?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, still processing the gravity of your words. It wasn’t just about her job performance; it was something deeper. The weight of your gaze made her stomach flutter.

You gave a small nod, your eyes softening as they locked onto hers. “Of course I did. You’re invaluable to this company, and to me. The way you handle things, how you think on your feet… I couldn’t ask for a better secretary. But this”—your eyes flicked down to her nervously fidgeting hands—“this situation is something we need to talk about."

Karina’s mouth went dry, her throat tightening as the reality of the situation settled in. She had crossed a line, and now you were confronting it head-on, yet there was no anger in your voice, just a calm determination. It was the part of you that had always drawn her in—your ability to remain composed, even when things got messy.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. “I never meant for you to… I mean, I didn’t think you’d see—”

“I did see,” you interrupted gently, standing up and moving around the coffee table to sit directly beside her on the couch. The closeness sent a jolt of electricity through her body. “And I’m not upset, Karina.”

Her head snapped up, eyes wide in confusion. “You’re not?”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. “No. If anything…” You leaned in, your voice dropping to a whisper, “It made things clearer for me.”

Karina’s breath hitched, her heart beating wildly in her chest as your words hung in the air. The proximity between you was almost suffocating, the heat radiating from your body making her feel dizzy.

“Clearer?” she asked, her voice trembling.

You nodded slowly, your gaze never wavering. “I’ve noticed how you look at me, Karina. How you react when I’m close. I didn’t want to cross that line either, but seeing you like that…” You paused, letting the weight of your words sink in. “It made me realize I want this just as much as you do.”

Karina’s world tilted on its axis. She had been consumed by guilt, certain that her feelings were one-sided and inappropriate, but here you were, confessing that you felt the same pull toward her. Her breath caught in her throat as she searched your eyes for any hint of uncertainty, but all she saw was raw desire.

“I…” Karina’s words failed her, her mind spinning as she tried to comprehend what was happening. She wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing she could think about was how close you were—how easy it would be to close the gap between you.

"Don't say anything. You can leave now. See you at the office and have a good Chuseok." You stood up, the moment hanging heavy in the air, charged with the unspoken tension that enveloped you both. Karina remained seated, her eyes wide, still trying to process your confession. The room felt smaller, the air thicker, and every heartbeat echoed in the silence between you.

“Wait—” Karina finally managed, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked up at you, desperation mingling with uncertainty. “You can’t just leave it like that. You can’t just drop a bombshell and walk away!”

You hesitated, your hand resting on the back of the chair as you turned to face her. “What do you want me to say? I’ve been trying to keep things professional, but this… whatever this is between us… it’s becoming impossible to ignore.”

Karina stood, the urgency in her movements belying the vulnerability she felt. “I don’t want to ignore it. I want to understand it. I want to understand us.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her words sinking in. You’d never imagined you would find yourself in this position, torn between your responsibilities as her boss and the undeniable chemistry that crackled between you. “I’m afraid of what this means. I don’t want to jeopardize your career, or mine,” you admitted, your voice softer now.

Karina stepped closer, her determination shining through. “I’m not worried about that. I’ve wanted this for so long. Just… give me a chance to show you that it can work. That we can make this work.”

Her earnestness tugged at something deep within you. You wanted to say yes, to take a leap into the unknown with her. But the weight of your positions, the risks involved—it all held you back.

“Just… give me time to think,” you finally replied, your voice tinged with regret. “I need to sort through my feelings and figure out what this means for us.”

“Okay,” Karina said, her voice low but resolute. “I’ll wait. Just don’t take too long.”

As you walked toward the door, you felt her gaze on your back, a hopeful one. You paused for a moment, glancing back at her. “Enjoy your Chuseok, Karina. I hope it’s a good one.”

With that, Karina stepped out of the house, the door clicking shut behind her.

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All of that led you both to this moment a month and half later, each of you unable to keep your eyes off each other. Karina had taken things to a new level; her outfits had transformed into a tantalizing display that left little to the imagination. The long pencil skirt that once fell to her knees now clung to her curves, shortened just enough to drive your thoughts wild. The first three buttons of her blouse were undone, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage—a line that beckoned your gaze like a forbidden invitation.

During meetings, you found it increasingly difficult to concentrate. Her confidence was intoxicating, and every sly glance exchanged felt charged with the thrill of the secret you both held. When the office was quiet, Karina would often approach you, her steps deliberate as she approached your desk with that playful smile that promised trouble.

“Need a little help?” she’d tease, leaning just close enough for you to catch a whiff of her floral perfume, a mix of sweetness and seduction that sent shivers down your spine.

You’d look up, pretending to be busy with work, though every fiber of your being was attuned to her presence. “I’m fine,” you’d reply, your voice betraying a hint of tension.

But she wouldn’t let it go. As the days went on, Karina found ways to brush against you as she leaned over your desk, her hands lightly grazing your arm while she offered suggestions on projects. The massages she gave you were discreet, her fingers kneading your shoulders just enough to bring you back to the moment yet leaving you craving more. The thrill of being caught made every touch feel electric, the boundaries of your professional relationship bending with each fleeting moment.

One afternoon, as the sun streamed through the office windows, casting a warm glow over everything and once again, everybody left, Karina slipped into your office with an almost predatory grace. She closed the door behind her, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “I thought we could use a little break,” she said, her voice a sultry whisper that made your pulse quicken.

“What kind of break?” you asked, attempting to keep your tone steady, but the question hung in the air, heavy with anticipation.

With a smirk, she stepped closer, her hands finding your shoulders, fingers digging in as she started to massage you. The pressure was firm, yet gentle, and you could feel the tension of the day melting away under her skilled hands. “The kind that helps you unwind,” she murmured, leaning in closer. You could feel her breath against your ear, the warmth of her body radiating just inches from you.

You closed your eyes for a moment, allowing yourself to sink into the sensation. But the reality of your situation crashed back down. “Karina, we can’t—”

“Can’t what?” she interrupted, her tone teasing, yet a glimmer of seriousness flickered in her gaze. “Can’t enjoy what we both want?”

The boldness of her words sent your heart racing. You opened your eyes to find her staring at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe. “This is risky,” you warned, though your voice lacked conviction. The truth was, you wanted her—needed her—but the repercussions of crossing that line were terrifying.

“Maybe it’s time to take that risk,” she replied, her fingers pausing as she searched your eyes for a sign of hesitation. “What if it could be more than just… this?”

Her words hung between you, filled with promise and temptation. In that moment, with the door locked and the world outside fading away, you realized the only thing standing in your way was fear. Karina was offering you something thrilling, something that could change everything.

Taking a deep breath, you weighed your options, your heart pounding in your chest. “What do you have in mind?” you finally asked her eyes shinning as she left your shoulder alone.

"I want to take control," she said, her voice low and sultry, laced with a challenge. The way she said it sent a shiver down your spine, awakening a part of you that craved surrender.

“Take control?” you repeated, laughing a little. “You really think you can?”

"What do you even question that? You’ll know it if you give me the chance, boss," she replied, her confidence unwavering.

You arched an eyebrow, intrigued by her boldness. “And what exactly does that entail? You think you can just waltz in here and take charge?”

Karina stepped closer, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I don’t just think about it—I know it. You’ve felt it too, haven’t you? The way I make you feel? All that tension building between us?”

Her words struck a chord within you. The tension was undeniable; every encounter, every lingering touch had only added fuel to the fire. “Okay, let’s say I’m intrigued,” you admitted, trying to keep your tone light, though the seriousness of the situation settled over you like a heavy blanket. “What’s your plan?”

"I'm starting like this." Karina grabbed the back of your neck, her lips connecting with yours in a surprising kiss.

The sensation hit you like a jolt of electricity, igniting every nerve ending as she pressed into you, her warmth enveloping you completely. It was unexpected but thrilling, a rush of passion that sent your heart racing. You found yourself leaning into the kiss, your hands instinctively moving to her waist, drawing her even closer.

Karina deepened the kiss, her mouth moving against yours with a fervor that took your breath away. It felt both exhilarating and forbidden, the world outside fading as you lost yourself in the moment. You could taste the sweetness of her lips, a tantalizing promise of everything that could unfold between you.

As the kiss lingered, you felt her fingers tighten around your neck, grounding you in the dizzying rush of desire. Every worry about the implications of this moment melted away, leaving only the raw need that had been simmering beneath the surface for so long.

Finally, Karina pulled back slightly, her breath mingling with yours, her eyes dark with desire. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” she teased, a satisfied smile playing on her lips.

"Oh, shut up," you shot back playfully, your need for her burning brighter than ever. This time, it was your turn. You leaned in, capturing her lips in a heated kiss.

Karina moaned into the kiss, and as you introduced your tongue into her mouth, the taste of her sweetness consumed you. You hissed as she playfully bit down on your tongue, the mix of pleasure and pain igniting a deeper craving within you.

In one swift motion, she pulled off the coat of your suit, casting it aside like it was nothing. The sudden exposure of your blouse made your heart race, but you didn’t have time to process it before she ripped the buttons off, leaving your blouse gaping open.

“Karina!” you gasped, a mix of shock and exhilaration washing over you.

“I’m buying you another one,” she replied with a wicked grin, her voice dripping with mischief. With that, she tossed your bra aside, her mouth immediately finding one of your nipples.

The sensation of her warm mouth enveloping you sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You couldn’t help but arch your back, pressing into her as she expertly teased and tugged with her lips. Every flick of her tongue made you gasp, each pull drawing you deeper into a haze of desire.

You were losing yourself in the moment, your mind swirling with sensations as you surrendered to her completely. The office, the risk, everything outside faded into oblivion. All that mattered was the heat building between you, the way she took charge and the way you willingly followed. Her fingers moved deftly to the zipper of your skirt, pulling it down and letting it pool around your ankles. The cool air rushed against your skin, mixing with the heat radiating from your core, which only heightened your arousal.

As the skirt dropped to the floor, you felt her fingers slide down your thighs, coating them with the wetness that had begun to gather at your entrance. It sent a shiver up your spine, and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sensation. The anticipation was almost unbearable; you wanted her to take you, to fill that yearning space inside you.

“Sit on the desk,” she commanded, her voice low and sultry. Without hesitation, you did as she said, climbing onto the polished surface. The cool wood felt exhilarating against your heated skin, and you leaned back slightly, watching her with eager eyes.

Karina started to take off her own clothes, slowly peeling away the layers that separated you. She was intoxicating, her confidence radiating as she left only her bra and underwear on. With a practiced grace, she gathered her hair into an updo, ensuring not a single strand fell across her face. The sight of her—barely clothed, focused, and so undeniably in control—made your heart race.

“Karina…” you breathed, your voice laced with need.

Without responding, she got on her knees, her face hovering just in front of your entrance. The proximity made your breath hitch, every nerve ending alive with anticipation. The moment felt electric, as if the very air around you crackled with tension.

“Are you ready for this?” she asked, her voice a sultry whisper that sent a jolt of excitement through you.

You nodded, unable to form coherent words, your mind too consumed with the sensation of having her so close. “Just give it to me,” you finally managed to say, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Needy girl,” she replied, her eyes darkening with hunger. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your sensitive skin, and you could feel every ounce of her intention radiating toward you.

Her tongue darted out, teasingly brushing against your entrance, sending a rush of sensation through your body. You gasped, instinctively pushing your hips forward, craving more of her touch. Karina grinned, clearly enjoying your reaction, and with a gentle but firm grip, she held your thighs apart, making sure you were completely open for her.

With deliberate slowness, she began to explore you with her tongue, swirling and teasing as she expertly drew out every moan that slipped past your lips. You couldn’t help but writhe on the desk, your body responding to her every movement, each flick and caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through you.

“Karina,” you gasped, the name escaping your lips like a prayer. “That feels so good.”

She responded by intensifying her ministrations, adding pressure and speed as she buried her face deeper between your thighs. The world around you blurred, every thought dissolving into pure ecstasy. You could feel the knot of tension tightening within you, ready to unravel at any moment.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” she murmured against you, the vibrations of her voice sending another wave of pleasure shooting through your body. “So responsive.”

You gripped the edge of the desk, your knuckles turning white as you fought to keep your composure. It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain any semblance of control. “I’m close,” you breathed, your voice trembling with urgency.

“Let go,” she urged, her tone both commanding and coaxing. “I’ve got you.”

With those words, you surrendered completely to the pleasure, allowing yourself to be swept away in the tide of sensation. Every flick of her tongue, every gentle suckle sent you spiraling closer to the edge. The world faded away completely; there was only you and Karina, entwined in this moment of unrestrained desire.

As she worked you closer to the brink, you felt the tension building higher and higher, your body coiling like a spring ready to snap. “Karina! I can’t hold on much longer!” you cried out, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

“Come on, baby,” she murmured, her eyes locking onto yours with a smoldering intensity. “Let it all out. I want to feel you come apart for me.”

With a final flick of her tongue, she sent you over the edge. A rush of pleasure flooded through you, and you gasped as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over your body. You cried out her name, the sound echoing in the air as you felt yourself surrender completely, unraveling in her grasp.

Karina didn’t relent, continuing to pleasure you through your climax, her tongue coaxing every last bit of sensation from you until you were left breathless and trembling on the desk.

“Lay on the desk, you’re going to eat me out,” she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a swift motion, she pushed everything off your desk, scattering papers and office supplies to the floor without a second thought. You barely registered the chaos as your heart raced with excitement and anticipation.

As you settled back onto the desk, you watched her climb up, her movements fluid and enticing. The sight of her—the way she gracefully positioned herself—only added to your arousal. She leaned down, capturing your lips in a messy, passionate kiss. You could taste yourself on her lips, the mingling flavors driving you wild. It was intoxicating, and you found yourself melting into her touch.

She separated from you to take her panties off, making you lick your lips in anticipation. Karina positioned herself, kneeling on the desk at the side of your face, exposing her glistening core to you. You could see how she was clenching around nothing, her body eager and ready for your touch.

“Come on, boss. Own me,” she urged, her voice sultry and filled with need. You grabbed her thighs, feeling the heat radiating from her skin, and pushed her down, your mouth finally making contact with her entrance. As your tongue brushed against her, her hands went straight to your hair, fingers gripping tightly as she gasped for air.

“Fuck, you’re such a good girl,” she breathed, her words igniting a fire deep within you. You felt the thrill of pleasure radiate through you at her praise, pushing you to dive deeper into her sweetness.

You began to lick and tease her, your tongue exploring her folds with an eager hunger. Each stroke was met with a delightful response from Karina, her moans sending vibrations of pleasure through you. You could feel her body responding, the way her hips instinctively moved toward your mouth, urging you to take her deeper.

As you continued, you found a rhythm that seemed to drive her wild. The taste of her arousal filled your senses, intoxicating and addictive. You focused on her clit, swirling your tongue around the sensitive nub, watching as her body reacted with every flick and teasing stroke.

“Just like that,” she encouraged, her voice a mix of desperation and delight. “Don’t stop.”

You loved the way she felt beneath you, the way her body writhed with pleasure as you brought her closer to the edge. Her hands tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if trying to mold you into exactly what she needed. Each gasp and moan fueled your desire to give her everything you had.

“Please, don’t hold back,” she begged, her voice trembling with urgency. “Fuck me, please.”

With a wicked grin, you lifted your gaze to meet hers, locking eyes as you plunged your tongue deeper inside her. The sight of her pleasure, the way her back arched and her breath quickened, drove you to push harder, to give her every ounce of pleasure you could muster.

Karina’s gasps turned into cries, each one a beautiful melody that echoed in the dimly lit office. You loved the power of bringing her to this point, of watching her unravel before you. “You taste so good,” you murmured against her, the vibrations only intensifying the sensations coursing through her.

“God, I’m so close,” she cried out, her voice strained as she clung to you. “Don’t stop, don’t you dare stop!”

You obliged, working your tongue with renewed vigor, alternating between teasing licks and deep thrusts as you sought to bring her to the brink. Her body quivered, her breaths coming in short, desperate gasps as you coaxed her toward the edge.

“Cum for me, Karina,” you urged, your voice dripping with lust as you gave a spank in each of her asscheeks, causing her to jump. “Can you also be a good slut?.”

With that encouragement, you felt her tighten around you, her body trembling as the pleasure surged through her. “Oh my God, yes!” she cried, her voice echoing in the quiet room as she let go, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave.

You savored the moment, relishing the taste of her release as it washed over your tongue. Karina’s body shook beneath you, the sound of her moans filling your ears as you continued to pleasure her through the waves of ecstasy.

Finally, as her body began to relax, you pulled back, gazing up at her with a satisfied grin. “You were incredible,” you said, your heart racing from the intensity of the experience.

Karina looked down at you, breathless and flushed, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. “You have no idea how much I needed that,” she replied, a smile breaking across her face.

You couldn’t help but return her smile, the connection between you deeper than ever. “I think I’m starting to understand,” you said, your voice soft but filled with promise.

"Let's go to my place," Karina said, her face still showing the bliss of the moment.

"Can I ask why?" you said, smiling at her state.

"I have a double penetration dildo and a strap on I want to use on you,"

↷ 𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚢'𝚜 note: first wlw work, kinda nervous. Also this work will have 3 parts, this is the 1/3 🦋

#𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗹𝑦𝑜𝑜𝑛𝑔𝑠! ৎ ˚⋅#ℎ𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑦'𝑠 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒍𝒅 ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ #aespa x fem reader #karina x reader #karina smut #aespa karina smut #aespa jimin x reader #yoo jimin x fem reader #aespa x fem reader smut #karina x fem reader #yu jimin x reader #aespa smut

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targaryenimagines · 5 months ago

Text

The Khaleesi’s Queen

Dark!Daenerys Targaryen x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2,559

Summary: Daenerys doesn’t like to be interrupted; not when she has everything she could ever want within her grasp.

Warning(s): G!P Daenerys, slightly rough (and possessive) sex, oral (R!Receiving).

Author’s Note: Changed up the prompt, which I hope is okay Tried to figure it out the first way, but I wasn’t doing it any justice in the slightest. I suppose this can be seen as a continuation of My Khaleesi, but it can be a stand-alone too. (This is told mainly through Dany’s POV, if you’d like me to make a partner through the Reader’s just let me know!)

Series Masterlist

“Do you take me as some sort of fool, Councilor?”

The question is asked in an airy tone, one that a person would use when making a remark about the weather or the coming crop season, but the fiery undercurrent, like iron piercing through the sky, kept the man it was directed to in place. Violet eyes locked on dark brown, a message clear within them: Speak. Now. I’m running out of patience.

“O-Of cou-course not, Your Majesty,” the man stumbles, trying to alleviate the situation. “I-I just wished to tell y-you what your ancestors used t-to do.”

A sneer works itself across a beautiful face. “Yes,” she drawls, disgust clear in her tone. “But those same ancestors didn’t have the bond I do with my son.” Rising from her chair, Daenerys pins the cowering man in place with her gaze. “What will you have me do, Councilor? Have sex with my queen on the back of my son’s back in hopes of creating another?” She takes another measured step closer. “Do you think I’m unaware of what’s being said about me? That I’m oblivious to the gossip and rumors being spread?” Daenerys is a mere five feet from the man now. “Everyone within the Seven Kingdoms knows about my bond with my children, but you choose to council me into doing something that’d be sacrilegious in their eyes? That’d create even more discord within the land?”

Daenerys pauses then, tilting her head as she surveys the cowering man— from his balding head down to his recently polished shoes— and her gaze darkens further.

“So, I have to ask, do you take me for a fool?” She reiterates. “Because you must if you think I wouldn’t question you or your motives.”

He shakes his head, practically throwing himself at his Queen’s feet. “I-I swear to you, Your Majesty, I’m just a lo-lowly scholar. Ju-Just trying to help.” Fear weasels its way down his spine when he felt her lean closer to him. “I-I swear it.”

A breathy chuckle echoes across the room, barren of any form of amusement. “Oh? You swear it?” Crouching down, Daenerys forces the man to look into violet eyes. “I must believe you then.”

Snapping her fingers, the shadows around the edges of the room come to life as figures clad in obsidian black step from them, silver spears glinting under the light.

“Grey Worm.” The Captain of the Queensguard steps forward, back dutifully straight. “Nādīnagon zirȳla.”

At once Grey Worm, and another Unsullied, step forward and clasp the now begging man under his armpits and begin dragging him from the room. His cries for mercy falling on deaf ears: “N-No. Ple-Please, Your Majesty! Don’t do this. Please.”

Dark oak doors close with a resounding bang, cutting off his pleading.

Silence settles once more over the office, save for the faint crashing of waves against the surf outside and the cries of gulls. If Daenerys closed her eyes, she could almost imagine she was back in Essos. Back when things were simple but infinitely more complex. Settling back into her high-backed seat, Daenerys lets loose a soft sigh.

“Did you just have that man executed for telling you something you didn’t wish to hear?” A teasing voice breaks through the silence, the warm cadence of it bringing a smile to Daenerys’ lips. Looking down, she’s met by the sparkling gaze of her wife. “Or did you have that man executed for interrupting us?”

Huffing out a laugh, filled to the brim with adoration, Daenerys pulls you from your kneeling position, placing her hands on your hips once you’re comfortably straddling her. “I didn’t have him executed, ñuha perzys.” She places a delicate kiss to the corner of your lips. “I just wanted to have him leave my presence in a timely manner.”

You nuzzle closer to her. “And to do that you had to scare him? Are you certain it has nothing to do with his untimely entrance?” Wiggling on her lap, Daenerys has to bite back a groan as your familiar weight bears down on her growing erection. One that had found its home in your mouth a mere twenty minutes before— only to be unceremoniously ripped out when the man had knocked, requesting an immediate audience. “I know how you get when certain things don’t go your way.”

“Careful,” Daenerys warns, nipping at your exposed neck. Delighted in the way your breath hitches at the slightest bit of pressure to the small area underneath your jaw. “It’s not polite to tease your Queen.”

Rocking your hips more, you quip back. “It’s a good thing you’re not my Queen then.” Dipping your head, you press a heated kiss to her lips, groaning when her hardness hits just the right spot through her tailored pants. “You will always be my Khaleesi.”

The sound of the title, the first one she had ever truly earned, falling so sweetly from your lips, when the taste of you was still heavy on her tongue, brings a small snarl forth from deep within her chest, rumbling out across the relative stillness of the room. Standing, Daenerys grips you tightly by the waist and deposits you on her desk, uncaring of the various baubles that fall off due to the action. She easily finds her home between your thighs, pressed flush to your beautiful form.

“A Khaleesi is very different from a Queen,” Daenerys purrs, pressing another heated kiss to your lips. Running her tongue against the bottommost one, a husky sound of contentment being made when you let her gain access to the warm heat of your mouth. Fighting for dominance, one that she easily wins, Daenerys plunders further into your mouth, running her tongue along the roof of it, savoring the taste of you. Once she starts to become impeded by the lack of air, she pulls back and nearly comes undone at the wanton expression across your face— kiss swollen lips, lust darkened eyes, a delicate sheen of sweat along your brow. Exquisite. “A Khaleesi takes without question. A Khaleesi is rough, making sure her claim is known, but a Queen is soft, gentle.” Driving her hips into you, Daenerys snarls. “Are you certain you want a Khaleesi instead of a Queen?”

Throwing your arms around her, Daenerys is pressed firmly down, both your fronts flushed together. “Yes,” you hiss, nails digging into her shoulders. “I want my Khaleesi to claim me. To show me that I’ll only ever belong to her.” Your hips cant once more, trying desperately to get some friction. “Show me what a Westerosi Queen could never accomplish.”

At the mere thought of you being claimed by another, at anyone else having the privilege of seeing you come undone, Daenerys’ world view narrows to only you, only bringing you pleasure, so that you’d never think about leaving her.

She’d turn this world into nothing but fire and ash before she’d ever let that happen.

Nostrils flaring due to the possessive fire roaring within her chest, Daenerys takes in the delicate symphony of scents that wash over her due to the action: the sweetness of your bath oils mixed with the heady scent of sweat and the musky undertone of your arousal, strong despite the layers that separated her from the source of it.

“Lean back,” she growls, pressing one last deep kiss to your lips before she began to make her way down your body. Nimble fingers tearing at the buttons and fabric that she comes across, tongue and teeth lavishing the newly exposed skin with attention, until you’re lying delicious bare, save the last bit of your smallclothes, across the dark wood of her desk. The sight of your laid open, and waiting, for her brings a jolt of arousal straight through her body, but she didn’t wish to satisfy her own needs. Not yet. For now, she’d remind you that she’d only ever be the one to give you this sort of pleasure, that no one would ever be able to replace her. Daenerys settles onto her knees between your thighs, rubbing her nose lightly across the patch of darkening fabric at the apex of them. “Don’t even think about cumming until I say you can.” Violet eyes rise to meet your own, expression stern. “Do you understand?”

Nodding, almost frantically, you spread your legs further, giving her more room to maneuver within. Taking advantage of the additional space, Daenerys mouths over your soaking center, tongue flexing against the sodden material that kept it covered from her, as her hands clasped your hips to keep you in place. The sound of breathy moans and pleading whines from above her sending a delicious thrill down her spine.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" The question is rhetorical, she doesn't expect you to answer, but the questioning keen in response brings a soft smile to her lips for the briefest of moments. Pressing closer, Daenerys finally tears at the last barrier keeping you from her, the sight, and the scent, of your glistening center causing her own mouth to water in renewed hunger. "I crave you, ñuha perzys. More and more with each passing moment. I crave to bring you as much pleasure as you can withstand." Daenerys places a delicate kiss to your throbbing clit. "I crave your taste." Lowering her head, she dips her tongue teasingly into your entrance, savoring the flavor that could only ever come from you. "I crave the sounds you make as I ruin you."

Without preamble Daenerys buries her head between your thighs, thrusting her tongue as far into you as she could reach, the keening cry of pleasure tearing itself from your lips music to her ears. You pulse around her tongue, inner muscles flexing, as you try to pull her deeper into your depths, the feeling a reminder of how exquisitely tight you always are for her, something that brings another jolt of arousal coursing through her, making Daenerys aware of the throbbing between her own legs. Forcing her thoughts away from her own need, Daenerys consumes you, tongue lashing across your clit before diving back into your slick hole, hands gripping your hips tight enough to bruise as she keeps you in place, despite your clear desire to chase whatever friction you could find. Your desperation for her, the clear need you had for her, almost made her take pity on you, almost allowing her to let you fuck her tongue, but the only thing you'd be cumming on in the near future would be her cock -- nothing more and nothing less.

Taking notice of the heightened pitch of your cries, the growling rasp building within your moans, Daenerys knows that you're close, that you're almost cresting the peak of the pleasure she's giving you, which means, with a small bit of reluctance, Daenerys tears herself away from you, tongue running along her bottom lip, savoring the remnants of you upon it. Your responding whine allows for a satisfied smirk to grace her beautiful face, soothed that you clearly wanted her as much as she wanted you.

Maneuvering quickly, Daenerys didn't have time to deal with all of the buckles that she wore, not to mention her boots, she simply opened her zipper and shoved her tailored pants as far down as they would go, her erection finally free once more, poised to claim what had always belonged to her. Rubbing herself against your wet heat, Daenerys arches a brow. "Do you want this?" It was the last warning she would give you before she claimed her wife completely, as a Khaleesi should. "You still have time to choose your Queen."

With a heaving chest, and narrowed eyes, you spit back. "The only woman I could ever want is my Khaleesi." You hook your legs around her hips, arching against her. "So, fuck me."

Not giving you a chance to rethink your words, not that she believed you would, Daenerys thrusts into her wife, the slick channel greeting her like an old friend, the feel of it causing a deep snarl to rumble from her chest. If she could manage running Westeros from right here, then Daenerys would never leave, but the times that she could make herself at home between your legs once more were that much more important to her when she could manage to find the time -- her devotion to you superseding all else barring the devotion she had to her son.

"Yes," you hiss, nails digging harshly into her clothed back. "It feels so good, Dany. So good."

Lowering her head, Daenerys harshly bites the sensitive spot just below your ear, tongue soothing the burn that no doubt appeared due to the action. "You're so beautiful." She nuzzles against a slightly older mark she had left a few days prior, quickly going to work to make it as fresh as the one she had just left. Slamming with more force into you, delighting in the sharp keen that's torn from your lips, and the way you flutter around her, due to the action, Daenerys finally detaches from your neck. "The most beautiful woman I've ever seen and you're all mine."

Nodding frantically, you arch against her lithe body. "I will only ever be yours, Dany." Taking her by the face, you press a needy kiss to her lips, all tongue and teeth as you pant against her. Clearly trying to stem off the encroaching orgasm. "I will only ever want you."

"And you'll only ever have me." Legs beginning to burn due to the power behind her thrusts, and the familiar fluttering within her belly, telling her that she wouldn't be able to last that much longer, Daenerys tugs at your bottom lip. "Cum for me, my queen. Cum for your Khaleesi."

As if a switch had a finally been flipped, your body arches completely off the desk, arms and legs slightly spasming, as your inner muscles tighten completely around her, and a fresh wave of wetness coats you both. The feeling coupled with the delicious sight, causes Daenerys to come with her own groan of your name, her hips still softly thrusting as she leads you through the last waves of your own orgasm.

Once you stop shaking, for the most part, Daenerys leans forward and places a delicate kiss to your brow, still firmly planted inside of you, nuzzling against your sweat-stained temple. "You were wonderful, ñuha perzys, but don't think that I've had my fill of you yet." She runs her hands down your sides, rubbing gently across your lower abdomen. "I still have to put my heir in you."

With a delightfully tired smile, you run your fingers through sweat-matted locks, the silvery-gold still looking radiant despite it all. "I love you, Khaleesi."

Violet eyes flutter shut at the title, the affection in which it falls from your lips, warmth suffusing itself within her chest because of it. Cradling your face delicately between her hands, Daenerys confesses. "I love that you still call me that."

You huff out a laugh, pressing a light kiss to her inner wrist. "Even if we're in Westeros now, Dany, you will always be my Khaleesi. No matter what."

"And you," Daenerys replies, adoration clear within her tone and gaze. "Will forever be my darling Queen."

#daenerys targaryen #daenerys targaryen x reader #daenerys x reader #daenerys targaryen imagine #daenerys #got imagine #game of thrones imagine #game of thrones imagines #game of thrones #house of the dragon #all of the unsullied left by the way #they’re just outside the room now instead of being within it due to daenerys no longer having an outside visitor

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littlelamy · 14 days ago

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hi!! i love ur works so far 🫶🏼 if ur taking requests could you do something with ceo rafe x anxious reader and him only being soft for her or something like that

hope you like it! ⭐️ you’d always heard about the cold, ruthless nature of ceo rafe cameron, the way he carried himself with an air of confidence that could intimidate even the most seasoned executives. yet, here you were, tucked away in a small corner of his office, nervously fidgeting with the hem of your blouse. today was the big day—you had to present your project to him and the board.

you took a deep breath, trying to calm the racing thoughts in your head. your anxiety always seemed to bubble up at the worst times, and now, as you sat in front of rafe, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. his desk, polished and imposing, seemed to loom over you, amplifying your nerves.

rafe leaned back in his chair, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. “you look nervous,” he said, his tone surprisingly gentle. his blue eyes, often cold and calculating in the boardroom, softened when they landed on you.

“i’m fine,” you replied, your voice shaky.

he raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “you’re not fooling anyone, you know. just take a deep breath.”

you tried to follow his advice, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. it helped a little, but you could still feel the tension coiling in your stomach.

“come on,” rafe said, his voice low and encouraging. “let’s practice. you can do this.”

you nodded, appreciating the way he’d shifted from his usual commanding presence to someone who genuinely wanted to help. rafe wasn’t just your boss; he was someone who seemed to understand your struggles in a way few others did.

as you began your presentation, your voice trembled, but rafe remained focused, leaning forward slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. he didn’t interrupt or critique; instead, he nodded along, offering you a reassuring smile that gave you the confidence to keep going.

“see? you’re doing great,” he said softly as you stumbled over a few words, his encouragement a balm for your frayed nerves. “just keep going.”

you glanced up at him, finding solace in his gaze. there was something so disarming about rafe in these moments, a stark contrast to the cutthroat businessman everyone else saw. you found yourself drawn to this softer side of him, the part that only seemed to emerge when it was just the two of you.

when you finished, you released a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. “was that okay?” you asked, anxiety creeping back in.

“more than okay,” rafe replied, standing up to walk around the desk. he leaned against it, closer to you now, his presence both intimidating and comforting. “you nailed it. you’re brilliant, you know that?”

the praise warmed your cheeks, and you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest. “thanks,” you murmured, not entirely sure how to respond to such kind words.

“and you don’t have to be nervous around me,” he added, his expression serious. “i’m not like the others. i want you to succeed.”

your heart swelled at his sincerity, and you felt a connection forming between you that you hadn’t anticipated. in this high-pressure environment, rafe’s kindness stood out like a beacon.

“really?” you asked, needing to hear it again.

“really,” he confirmed, moving closer. the distance between you felt charged, electric. “i care about you. i always have.”

you swallowed hard, your anxiety momentarily forgotten in the weight of his words. rafe cameron, the formidable ceo, was softening for you, and it made your heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified you.

“do you want to go grab coffee after this?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes searching yours. “i think you deserve a treat after your hard work.”

your stomach flipped at the idea, excitement mingling with your nervousness. “yeah, i’d like that.”

“great. now let’s get through this board meeting, okay?” he said, a playful smile on his lips. “and remember, i’m right there with you.”

as you moved to leave, rafe gently took your hand, pulling you close. you looked up at him, your heart pounding. he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight as he rocked you gently from side to side. the warmth of his body against yours was grounding, easing your nerves in a way you hadn’t expected.

“you’re going to do amazing,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. and before you could fully register what was happening, he leaned down, capturing your lips with his in a soft, lingering kiss. it was sweet and tender, a promise that he would always be there for you.

when he pulled away, his eyes searched yours, filled with warmth and affection. “now, let’s show them what you can do,” he said, his confidence radiating off him as he led you toward the boardroom, hand in hand.

with rafe by your side, you felt emboldened, ready to face whatever came next. and as you walked together, his presence felt like a shield against your anxiety, a reminder that even in the cutthroat world of business, there could be moments of kindness and warmth.

as you entered the room, you caught rafe’s eye, and for a fleeting moment, you knew that no matter how tough things got, he’d always have your back.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @dinakisser @rafecameroninterlude

#rafe obx #rafe cameron #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #rafe #rafe cameron x reader #ceo rafe #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron blurb #rafe fluff

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rileyslibrary · 2 years ago

Text

Nice shot

Summary: What happens when, in a moment of absent-mindedness, you accidentally slingshot your hair tie straight in Ghost’s eye as he briefs you and the team on a critical mission?

Relationship: Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

Word count: 1,149

Notes:

Platonic(ish?) fluff *wink wink*

I admit the following fic could have easily ended up into something spicy, but I wasn’t feeling it when I wrote it so

Want more?

———————————————————————

You’re all seated around a large wooden table in the centre of an otherwise empty room, illuminated only by a flickering projector suspended from the ceiling.

Ghost stands at the head of the table with his back to a projected image of a wanted fugitive. His signature skull balaclava casts an eerie shadow over his face as he speaks, describing the mission’s objectives, the obstacles you’ll face, and the risks involved.

“Our objective is clear,” he says as he walks around the table. “We must take out a high-value target and retrieve vital intelligence.”

“Alpha Team will establish a perimeter around the target’s refuge,” he explains, “while Bravo will execute an aerial rooftop landing.”

But, despite your lieutenant’s confident demeanour, you emit the exact opposite. The upcoming mission is dangerous, and anxiety gets the best of you. Your mind begins to race as you consider the implications and the impact it might have on your job and—worse—on your life.

As the briefing continues, it becomes increasingly difficult for you to sit still. You find yourself absentmindedly twisting a hair tie around your fingers. It was a nervous habit you picked as a child, a coping mechanism for whenever you felt overwhelmed.

You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself, but they are useless. So you continue to tangle that hair tie in your fingers as if trying to imitate the knots you feel in your stomach.

Stretching, twisting, turning it around…

Stretch-

The hair tie suddenly slips from your grasp and flies across the table, slingshotting towards Ghost’s face and striking him square in the eye.

You’ve just hit one of the most notorious and feared lieutenants with a hair tie.

The enigma of Task Force 141. Your superior. In the eye. With a hair tie. During a briefing. For a critical mission.

Gasps fill the room as everyone shifts their attention from the lieutenant to you, then back. Your heart drops to your stomach. What have you done?

You brace yourself for his reaction.

Ghost, however, does not react; he doesn’t even turn to look at you. Instead, he kneels, picks up the hair tie, places it in his pocket, and resumes the briefing. Everyone is silent but as stunned by his reaction as you are.

You sink into your chair and take as little space as possible. As Ghost continues, you try to forget the incident, focusing on the mission’s details. However, concentrating is challenging since you can still feel everyone’s eyes on you. You turn to look at Soap, who mouths an inaudible “you’re fucked” as he looks at you dumbfounded.

The briefing ends, and everyone begins to pack up their stuff. You grab your belongings and dash for the door. Perhaps Ghost forgot about it. Maybe he brushed it aside. You wouldn’t find it surprising if he didn’t even notice who—

“Y/N, report to my office in 10.” He commands as he fills out the attendance form without looking at you.

Well, shit.

As you approach the lieutenant’s office, your heart is racing. Worry and embarrassment are fighting within you to see which emotion can make you feel the worst. You try to make up excuses to explain what happened, but what is there to explain? Scenarios fill your mind—bad ones. You might get heavily penalised. You could even lose your job. Not only that, but the thought of being chewed out by the lieutenant is enough to make you break out in a cold sweat.

The hallway walls seem to close in; the fluorescent lights shine straight into your eyes, making you feel dizzy. Each step feels like you’re getting closer to your execution.

The door to the office stands before you, and you pause, gathering your courage. You take a deep breath, exhale slowly, and knock on the door.

“Enter!” Ghost shouts from the other side of the door.

You push the door open and step into the room. Your heart threatens to escape your chest.

The room is small, and the only furnishings are a worn-off desk with a pair of hard-backed chairs. The lieutenant sits at the desk with his arms crossed over his broad chest; his gaze feels like a spear that pins you in place. He makes you feel like a bug under a microscope. Your legs feel unsteady.

“Take a seat,” he says, motioning with a flick of his wrist to the chair across from him. You settle into the chair as he orders. The leather creaks beneath you, and you nervously twist your fingers in your lap. Thank God you don’t have that hair tie in your hands.

Ghost leans back in his chair, never breaking eye contact. “I’m sure you’re wondering why I called you here,” he murmurs. Even now, he’s been sarcastic.

You lower your gaze, avoiding to meet his eyes; your mouth is too dry to speak. He seems to understand your nervousness but continues anyway.

“Nice shot,” he says with a chuckle. “Not many can catch me off guard like that.” Despite his concealed expression, you can hear the smile in his tone.

You sit there shocked. You expected a stern lecture, but instead, he is having a laugh.

“I-I’m so sorry, sir—it was an accident.”

But Ghost waves his hand and dismisses your apology. “Next time, please use that aim on the battlefield,” he replies. “Just make sure to aim at the enemy; I won’t be accepting any more friendly fire from you.”

You chuckle, the tight knot in your stomach slowly unravelling.

“You’re dismissed,” he says softly, and you thank him for understanding.

As you grasp the door handle, you turn to face him again. “Lieutenant Riley,” you say, “may I please have back my hair tie, sir?”

He shakes his head. “Negative, soldier,” he replies, his focus shifting to his computer screen. “Who knows what else you might attempt with that deadly weapon of yours?”

You shrug it off. Who cares anyway; you have plenty of “deadly weapons” in your vanity kit.

You take one last look at Ghost as you close the door. His eyes smile as they lock with yours, and he gives you a wink. He retrieves your hair tie from his pocket and begins stretching, twisting, and turning it around.

———————————————————————

#simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #modern warfare 2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #simon riley #cod mw2

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howlingday · 26 days ago

Note

What if instead of trying to court Weiss he was trying to befriend her because of his arranged marriage to Winter? Something Weiss was unaware of until Winter visits during the festival.

The Arc-Schnee Betrothal

"Then it is agreed." Jacques Schnee, the chief executive officer of the Schnee Dust Company, penned his name onto the document. Across the table, after the document was passed to him, the patriarch of the Arc family and head of the Valian Farming Circuit signed his name on the marriage document. The document in being signed being an agreement to betrothal, with the parties to be in unison being one Jaune Arc and one Winter Schnee.

The Schnee family would receive an initial dowry of half the Arc's harvest, to be used as sought fit, as well as a percentage of fruits and vegetables imported into the Kingdom of Atlas to allow the sale of foods not normally grown within. The Arc family receive an initial dowry of the latest farming equipment, completely tested and proven safe to operate, as well as a percentage of dust needed to power both the homes and equipment of the farmers within the VFC.

Jaune looked across to his betrothed. The way she glared at him with such cold, stern eyes sent a chill up his spine. She looked at him like he was less than her, a thing to reviled. Jaune knew when a woman hated him, and this woman who was to be his wife HATED him. He shivered a bit, then looked away. He hoped his enrollment at Beacon would make him good enough for his bride's standards.

Winter looked away from her groom-to-be to the other men celebrating with one another. She scowled at her father, angered by this shallow ploy of his. Even when she tried to flee the Schnee family curse by joining the military, her father found some loophole or another that would force her into this trap he laid. She grit her teeth, glancing once more at the... boy she was engaged to.

Seventeen, true, but still a child in the eyes of the law. However not in an archaic law like betrothal agreements. On his eighteenth, the two would decide a date for the wedding, in which they will be forced into attend and partake in the joyous bliss of the marriage trap. She couldn't be angry at him. Not when they both were unwilling participants in this.

Pushing her chair away, Winter stood up. "If I may be excused, I have duties to perform."

"What duties?" Her father asked.

"Duties for the Atlas military." She sneered. He waved her off and she turned away. Ahead of her, then, was Jaune Arc, her betrothed, holding the door for her, like a gentleman. She approached him, looked him up and down, then opened the other door. "I can open my own doors, thank you."

As she left, Jaune shut the door he held. "Uh, you're welcome."

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

"This is ridiculous!" Jaune shouted, squeezing his way between Ruby and her sister. How hard is it to find one locker in this one room? "There's no way I put my stuff in locker 636! I would've remembered to count that high! Why does this have to happen today?!"

Jaune was about to cry, but he held in his tears. What kind of man would Winter think of him if he started crying because he couldn't find his locker where his stuff is? Probably less than she already did, but that's not the point! Taking a deep breath, he looked to locker 636, standing there so smugly. Approaching, he put in the pin he KNOWS he put in and-

Click!

...Today was just not his day, was it?

"Great" A voice called. He turned to see a girl with white hair, tied back into a ponytail, and icy blue eyes widened in a manic glee. Aside from her unnerving visage, everything else about her said 'I'm a Schnee!' This must be Winter's sister, at least from what his dad told him.

'Try to make friends with your sister-in-law.'

"You know who else is great? Me. Jaune Arc. Nice to meet you."

"You again?!" Had they met? She did call him scraggly earlier. Was that what she meant?

"Nice to meet you, Jaune!"

"Oh, uh, yeah." Jaune gave a quick glance to the other girl. Gotta be polite for Winter's sister's friends. "So, uh, Weiss, right? I couldn't help but hear how you complimented me yesterday."

"Excuse me?!" She nearly screeched. Jaune assumed she could reach higher pitches.

"No, no! It's no problem!" Wouldn't want her to feel self-conscious about complimenting her future brother-in-law, right? "So, uh, I heard they're gonna split us into teams today. Wouldn't it be crazy if we got put on a team?"

"Actually, the teams are made up of teams of four, so-"

"Oh, really? Cool." Okay, Weiss' friend butted in twice, which is fine. It's cool. No time to focus on the details. Not when you have a future sister-in-law to win over! Time to lay on the Arc charm~. "So, Miss Tall, Bronze, and Gorgeous, would you like to join the winning team~?" Weiss' friend giggled. Once again, the Arc charm works like a... charm.

"Jaune, right?" Weiss huffed. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

Jaune looked to Pyrrha. She smiled and waved at him. She looked kinda familiar, but no bells were ringing. It might come to him later, but for now, might as well be up front. "Should I?"

"Should- This is THE Pyrrha Nikos!"

"Oh!" He nodded. He shook his head. "I got nothin'."

"She graduated top of her class at Sanctum?"

Oh, so she was a prodigy like Winter! He nodded, but the two girls could tell there wasn't any thought behind it. "I see..."

"She's won the Mistral Region Tournament four years in a row! A new record!"

Jaune blinked. "The what?"

"For the love of-" Weiss waved her arms. "SHE'S ON THE COVER OF THE PUMPKIN PETE'S MARSHMALLOW FLAKES BOX!"

"THAT'S IT~!" Jaune snapped his fingers. "I ate, like, fifty boxes to get my hoodie~!" He tugged on his chest-plate. "Uh... If I could take this off, I would to prove it."

Pyrrha giggled. "I don't think that's healthy."

"It wasn't." It was like cardboard soaked and dried over and over again in pumpkin flavoring. Not even the marshmallows were safe. "Almost threw up a couple times."

"So, Jaune," Weiss tapped her foot, "after hearing all of this, do you really think you have any right to ask her of all people to be on your team?"

"I..." Jaune got into Beacon on pure luck. He has no skill, no education, and a future bride waiting for him next to a shallow grave. As much as the Arc charm carried him, Jaune Arc is still Jaune Arc; the biggest disappointment to trip his way out of Ansel. "...guess not."

"Actually, Jaune, I think you'd make a great leader."

Jaune felt a bit of heat rush to his cheeks. He was easy to please, especially with sweet words, no matter how empty they were. "D'Oh, stop~!"

"Yes, please, STOP." Weiss agreed. "Don't encourage him."

"Sounds like Pyrrha's on Team Arc!" He turned to Weiss, arms spread. "There's still plenty of room, though, Weiss! Here, come give a hug to your future-"

"Okay, that's too close!" Weiss backed away. "Pyrrha!"

"I'm really sorry about this."

With a tug of his hoodie, Jaune soared through the air and became pinned to the tiled wall. He hung there as Weiss passed him by, her nose turned up in disgust. Pyrrha then pulled out her weapon and waved to him, apologizing again. Jaune fell to the floor and sighed.

Yup.

Today is just not his day.

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

Click! The door opened. "Hell-" SLAM! The door shut. Jaune knocked again.

"Go away, Jaune!" Weiss called from inside the dorm.

Jaune's plan to get to know his sister-in-law better wasn't going so well. After saving her life from falling to her death in the Emerald Forest, only an hour after she left him pinned to a tree when she made eye-contact with him, he then went on to become team leader, a position she didn't earn, but Ruby instead. If the rumors Jaune heard about a Schnee's pride were anything to go by, he sort of understood Weiss' hostility. Regardless, he wasn't going to let the chance to actually meet the bride's sister go to waste!

"I just wanna talk, Weiss!"

"We have nothing to talk about, Arc!"

"I think you mean, 'Arc-Schnee,' actually."

"UGH! As if!" Weiss retched. "There's no way on Remnant or ANY OTHER UNIVERSE that you and I would be together!"

"Well, maybe not you and I, but what about me and Winter?"

Silence. Silence was good, right? It means deep thought. Concentration. Silence was a curtain-fall to prelude the intermission. Maybe. Jaune spent some time learning theater, but dance was more his passion. Not a lot of silence in dance, though. A lot of squeaking and panting and-

"OOF!" Jaune held his family jewels after a searing pain shot through his body from there. He toppled over like a toppling thing. Sorry, can't really think when all you can feel is PAIN!

"What have you done with my sister?!" A heel pressed into his head.

"N-Notheeng!" Jaune answered, smushed by a powder-blue fuzzy slipper. "I'm juss engaged to her!"

"Just engaged?" Weiss stepped away, anger not leaving her eyes. "I've heard a lot of filth about my family, but this is a new low. Why would my sister ever agree to marry a creep like you?" Weiss turned away, walking through the doorway.

"Because she didn't."

"Excuse me?"

"She didn't agree to it." Jaune stood up. "And neither did I. The only reason this marriage is happening at all is because people in Atlas want food from Vale."

Weiss was quiet, then shut the door to her dorm. She turned to Jaune. "I'm assuming your family has some say in VFC?"

"My dad is the head of the VFC. Your dad-"

"Arranged a marriage between our families and chose his oldest daughter to marry you, and I'm assuming you're the oldest son?"

"Only." Jaune clarified.

"Of course." Weiss sighed. "And what does my sister think of all this?"

"She's... not happy. In fact, I don't think I've seen her smile once. Or sad. She's just... angry."

"Well, I can't imagine her being happy with this forced marriage."

"Yeah."

"And what about you?" Weiss looked him in the eyes. "Are you happy to be marrying Winter?"

Yes, he would be happy to marry someone like Winter. Someone smart, beautiful, strong, and just breathes excellence. That's what Jaune would have said if he didn't hold his tongue and think for a moment. What did he know about Winter Schnee, beyond her looks and what others had said her?

"She's... cold." Jaune answered. "She's angry. And everything about her tells me that she hates being stuck in this arranged marriage. So, no, I'm not happy marrying Winter like this."

"Like this?" Suddenly, there's was something about the look on Jaune's face. A determination that made him out to be the most honest man she'd ever met.

"If I did marry Winter Schnee," he said, "then she would be the happiest woman on Remnant."

Then, in an instant, the look on Jaune's face slipped back into his usual goofy, spineless self.

"Uh, I mean- W-What I meant to say was-"

"Shut up." Weiss rolled her eyes, and Jaune clamped his mouth shut. "You're marrying a Schnee, and I won't allow someone so spineless to share my family name."

"Huh?"

"Like it or not, you and Winter are engaged." She pointed a finger at him. "That means you need to become the perfect husband for her."

"Uh-"

"You're already the team leader, so I expect nothing less than perfect grades on all assignments, on all tests, and in all team exercises!" She opened the door to her dorm. "I will see you in class tomorrow, Jaune Arc-Schnee."

As the door shut, Jaune stood there, unsure of how to move forward. He finally got his wish and was able to meet his future sister-in-law and talk to her. In doing so, however, he poked a bear that would now maul him if he didn't outdo her in everything she did, and he doubted she would risk her attendance at Beacon for some slacker who just showed up and said he was marrying her sister. Compounding this is his lack of skill in anything related to being a huntsman.

In short, he was screwed.

"Jaune, are you coming back to the dorm?" Pyrrha asked from the doorway, flanked by their teammates, Ren and Nora.

Jaune fell over, face-down on the floor.

Nora quirked her brow. "Uh, we have beds in here, ya know?"

#rwby #winter knight #winter's knight #jaune arc #weiss schnee #winter schnee #papa arc #jacques schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long #nora valkyrie #pyrrha nikos #lie ren

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mya-valentine · 25 days ago

Text

Spoiled in Silk

Synopsis: In the lap of luxury, you interrupt Pantalone’s high-stakes meeting to request a new dress, knowing full well he'll drop everything for you. Showered with more mora than needed, you indulge in a shopping spree, returning to captivate him with a private fashion show.

Pantalone, the Regrator, was in the midst of a meeting when the sound of the heavy oak doors to his office creaked open. A handful of subordinates had gathered around his massive desk, all awaiting instructions on the next phase of a project so important it could alter the course of trade across Teyvat. Charts were unfurled, figures were discussed, and each member of his staff was poised to execute Pantalone’s meticulously crafted plans.

But the moment you strutted into the room, all of that ceased to matter.

Without even a glance toward the people in the room, you walked confidently past them, your heels clicking sharply against the marble floors, the sound echoing in the cavernous office. The air of privilege radiated off of you—every step you took dripped with the unshakable confidence of someone who knew they were the center of the universe. And in Pantalone's world, you absolutely were.

His eyes flicked up immediately, and the moment his gaze landed on you, that calculating, shrewd expression softened. It wasn’t just a softening of features; it was as though his entire demeanor shifted, becoming warmer in your presence. The Regrator, always cold and calculating in front of others, had a special place for you, and you knew it. That knowledge empowered you as you swept into the room, completely unconcerned by the important business being discussed.

"Excuse me," you interrupted, not bothering to lower your voice. "I need a new dress."

The air grew tense as his subordinates shifted uncomfortably, unsure of how to react. No one dared say a word or even make a sound as they witnessed this incredibly brazen interruption. And yet, you didn’t care. You leaned one arm on his desk, your lips curling into a spoiled smirk, knowing full well that Pantalone would drop everything for you.

Pantalone’s lips twitched upward in a subtle smile, an expression that was reserved only for you. "Leave us," he ordered softly, eyes never leaving your face.

The underlings scrambled to gather their papers and documents, retreating quickly as though relieved to have escaped what could have been a humiliating situation. The door closed behind them, leaving you alone with him.

"What kind of dress are we talking about, darling?" Pantalone asked, reclining back in his chair, giving you his full attention as if the meeting had never even happened. His fingers intertwined, and his dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

You walked around his desk, hips swaying as you approached him, confident in the way his gaze followed you. With a little hum of thought, you tapped your chin, clearly enjoying his attention. "Something new, something stunning. Maybe a few different ones," you purred, draping yourself across his lap like a cat expecting to be spoiled.

Pantalone chuckled lowly. "A few dresses, is it?" He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small velvet pouch filled with mora. You expected something sizable, but as he handed it to you, you realized just how heavy it was. The weight of it alone was enough to buy far more than a dress. Perhaps enough for six—no, maybe even more.

Your eyes widened for a moment, then you smiled smugly, knowing you were about to go on the shopping spree of a lifetime. You leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on his lips as a thank you. "You always spoil me, Pantalone."

"And why wouldn’t I?" he responded with a sly smile, his fingers brushing along your jawline. "What use is wealth if not to make you happy?"

You gave him another kiss, longer this time, savoring the warmth of his lips before pulling away with a playful wink. "I’ll be back soon. I can’t wait to show you what I get."

Hours later, you returned to his office with an armful of bags filled with extravagant, high-end dresses. Each one was meticulously chosen for its color, cut, and luxurious fabric. You practically skipped into his office, excited to show off your new haul, and found him exactly where you’d left him—still working but far more relaxed now that his precious girlfriend had returned.

You immediately set the bags down and began pulling out dress after dress, creating a small spectacle as you displayed each one before dashing behind a dressing screen that had been conveniently set up just for such moments.

The first dress you put on was a deep crimson gown, its fabric clinging perfectly to your curves. You stepped out, doing a slow twirl for him. "What do you think?" you asked, your voice laced with mischief.

Pantalone’s eyes scanned you up and down, his appreciation evident in his gaze. "Magnificent," he murmured, his voice smooth. "But let's see the next one."

You disappeared behind the screen again, trying on a shimmering gold dress that glittered in the candlelight, making you look like a vision of wealth and power. The dress was more daring, and as you strutted in front of him, you made sure to sway your hips just a little more, teasing him with each step. "And this one?"

His lips parted, and for a second, he was at a loss for words, something that rarely happened to the ever-composed Regrator. "You outshine the dress," he said, his voice rougher than before.

And so it went, dress after dress, each one more extravagant than the last. He watched you with growing desire, his eyes never leaving your form. It wasn’t just the dresses; it was you—the way you moved, the confidence, the way you knew he adored every inch of you.

Finally, you came out in the last dress: a sleek black number that hugged your body like a second skin. It was elegant, sophisticated, and undeniably sexy. You turned, giving him a full view before walking right up to him, stopping only when you were close enough to feel his breath on your skin.

"Which one do you like the best?" you asked, your voice sultry as you gazed down at him.

Pantalone’s eyes darkened as he reached for you, his hand gently tugging you closer by the waist until you were straddling his lap again. His fingers traced a slow, deliberate path down your spine, sending shivers through you. "This one," he murmured, his voice low and full of promise. "But I think you know it's not just the dress that I’m admiring."

Heat pooled in your stomach as his lips brushed against the hollow of your neck. He kissed his way up to your jaw, his breath hot against your skin, igniting a fire within you.

"You’re perfect," he whispered, and before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss, his hands tightening their grip on your waist as if he couldn’t get enough of you. The kiss was hungry, possessive, and filled with all the pent-up desire he'd been holding back all day.

You moaned softly into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as your bodies pressed together. His hands roamed, fingers sliding over the fabric of your dress, appreciating the feel of it but clearly more interested in you underneath it.

He broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the sensitive skin as you tilted your head back, giving him full access. The sound of his breath against your skin, the feel of his hands gripping you tighter—it was enough to make you dizzy with want.

"Pantalone," you whispered, your voice breathless as you tugged at his coat, wanting to feel more of him.

His lips returned to yours, the kiss even more fervent, more heated than before, his hands wandering, exploring every inch of you. It was like every kiss, every touch was a promise of more to come—a promise that he fully intended to keep.

You melted into him, your mind hazy with pleasure as the passion between you two escalated. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dresses, not the mora, not even the grand schemes that had been discussed in his office earlier that day.

It was just you and Pantalone, lost in each other, and nothing else in the world could compare.

Masterlist

#pantalone x reader #pantalone #genshin impact pantalone #genshin pantalone #genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader

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brodorokihousuke · 2 months ago

Text

thinking about the fact that i made a horrible gross (23k word long??) ace attorney fanfic in high school that is bad and awful. I got a credit for it. I did not deserve that credit

some highlights of said fanfic are

Apollo runs into a door so hard he fucking obliterates it and breaks his wrist in the process. This is never relevant again

Clay does not know what GYAXA stands for despite working for them

Athena accuses Apollo of blowing up the courtroom and nearly killing her with all of the zeal of someone who just got their lunch stolen out of the office fridge

"A police stands up"

Apollo finds Thalassa murdered, after which I immediately jump cut to one year after apollo was fucking executed for her murder

I combined Apollo and Clay's spirits to make some weird mix of them, creatively named Aclay. He is inexplicably evil. He might be a demon? I hate this guy so much. I hate him so much that I still draw him sometimes out of spite it's literally so stupid

Halfway through the fanfiction I reveal that it had all just been a bad dream. Then I do it again. And again. and again. This happens at least seven times in quick succession.

"He kicks over a chair but sets it back up like a polite young man"

Trucy says "Wuzzup guys!"

Story ends with no moral and a vague implication that Clay was supposed to be an antagonist

i'm of the honest opinion that the thing is a cursed object and by continuing to look at it my sanity is slowly draining away

#ace attorney #ace attorney funny #brodoroki personal #apollo justice #clay terran #im lowkey trying to rewrite it but i'm like #only keeping TWO story beats #that being clay being apollo's ghostly investigative partner and apollo being accused of the bombing

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kaeyx · 9 months ago

Text

Valentine's day special - Nakahara Chuuya

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: yandere!Chuuya, kidnapping, afab!gn!reader, smut, voyeurism technically?, drugging at the beginning

Notes: happy valentine's day! This is neither edited nor proofread

You sigh and drag a hand down your face, yawning. Another day, another fiscal quarter, another load of budgets you had to go over and compile.

You allow yourself a moment to fantasize, since the box has no note or signature. If only it was from Chuuya, the most gorgeous man in all the Port Mafia. But oh, he'd never notice someone as unimportant as you! He probably didn't even know you exist! Him, the strong and powerful mafia executive and you, some poor sod who made sure everything ran smoothly, it was forbidden! He was just too out of your league..... dejected sigh.

Right, more like he's busy doing actually important things. He knows you exist, you sort of work under him. He's the one that goes through all your reports and comes back with budgets, so you know if you can order more paperclips and radios. And ammunition. And other things. He's just too busy being stupidly gorgeous and doing Important Executive Things to send valentine's day gifts to everyone who works under him.

With a sigh you set your papers down and sink into the chair, grabbing the box. A break wouldn't hurt. You don't recognise the brand, but there's a helpful little chart with the contents of each chocolate on the inside of the lid. Your thoughts drift back to Chuuya, as they often do. You can hope, right? After all, sending a bunch of gifts is exactly the kind of sweet thing he'd do. You've heard that he knows the name of everyone who works for him, and you're inclined to believe it.

Oh damn, these things are good. You pop a second piece into your mouth as soon as you swallow the first, feeling the taste spread across your tongue and burn your throat with its sweetness. Chuuya, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear while he writes. Chuuya, calling you by name whenever you see him. Chuuya, looking cocky and fiery and self satisfied after a job well done. Fuck, you really need to reign yourself in. This is reaching high school crush levels of infatuation, not that anyone can blame you.

Okay, okay, enough moping around, you're going to finish the whole box if you keep this up. Making a mental note to ask Kouyou about the gift later, you close the box and set it aside. Only, your hands feel a little heavy. You yawn, tiredness gathering fast behind your eyes. Shit, you know you hadn't slept well but surely it wasn't this bad? You don't want to take a nap right now.

Another yawn overtakes you and you lean back in your chair, rubbing your forehead. Okay, this never ends well, but you'll just take a 15 minute nap. Or an hour nap. Whatever. It's not like you have to clock out, as long as everything is in order by the deadline you can sleep as much as you want. You'll just.... rest your eyes a little.

✦✦✦

.....This isn't your office. This isn't even an office, it's a bedroom. You're still in your clothes, and your mouth feels pasty. The first thing you notice is the chocolates from before are sitting next to the bed, which is weird because you didn't bring them. The sunlight falling across your face is at a much lower angle than you remember. Your head is pounding terribly, but you're awake enough to realise you don't recognise the room at all. In fact, you don't even recognise the view beyond the gorgeous, floor to ceiling windows. It's a completely different part of Yokohama and, judging by how high up it is, far outside your budget.

The door opens with a smooth click and you turn to look. There's a sharp pulse of pain from your head and you close your eyes with a groan, hearing hurried footsteps coming up to the bedside.

"Are you okay?"

That snaps you out of it. It's Chuuya's voice. And indeed when you look, it's Chuuya's face close to your own, looking at you with concern. Your heart flutters and heat stirs in your gut as several realisations slam into you. Oh god, this is his house. Probably his bed. Had he been the one to find you? Had he carried you all the way here from headquarters?

"..... I'm fine. My head hurts," you answer quickly, realising you've been staring like an idiot.

"Figures," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. You notice he's missing his hat. You feel like you're seeing something you shouldn't. "I ordered those chocolates made pretty strong."

Hang on, what? "What? Those were from you?"

Your heart soars. Holy fuck he'd sent you chocolates on valentine's, and you're lying in his bed. But....

"You had them made pretty strong?"

Chuuya nods, looking a little awkward. "I had to get you here without a fuss, you understand. And I needed time to prepare for when you came."

You blink several times, head still spinning. This makes absolutely no sense.

"I just can't leave you alone out there, it's not safe. You have no idea what risks you take on the daily just working for me, doll. I couldn't bear it any longer, you're too special to lose." He's almost rambling now.

"And you didn't even ask first?" You interrupt him. He pauses, looks back at you with a delicate sort of expression on his face.

"I couldn't have you saying no. Or getting any ideas about leaving."

"But.... but what about my job? My apartment?"

Chuuya reaches a hand out and tentatively rests it on top of yours. It's effective in shutting you up, mostly because the touch makes you lose your train of thought. He's so warm, it's even radiating through the smooth leather of his gloves.

"I've taken care of everything. You don't have to worry about that anymore, okay? I can take care of both of us." He talks so gently, squeezing your hand gently when you don't lean away from him. A little bit like he's soothing a scared animal. That thought shouldn't intrigue you as much as it does.

You stare at him in silence, your sluggish brain trying to process everything through the fog of sleep and drugs. Which is also his fault, you realise. Chuuya is simply kneeling in silence next to the bed, fixing you with a steady gaze, and you can't tell what he's thinking. He seems to be holding his breath.

"You... just want me to stay with you?" You ask him, tentatively.

"You are going to stay with me, darling."

The pet name startles you in the best of ways and a traitorous shiver of heat curls up your spine. Damn, you knew you were desperate but this is just pathetic. You need space, fast.

"Go. Just leave, please. I need to think." If he keeps looking at you like that, so strangely hopeful, while kneeling, you're going to do something you might regret. And you still don't know how you want to feel about this.

You close your eyes and don't open them again until you hear the door click shut, not wanting to risk a look at his expression. There's also the sound of the lock, and the soft tumbling sounds of a deadbolt. You slump backwards onto the ridiculously plush pillows.

Is it bad that you're not angry? Maybe it's the novelty of the situation, or the shock. But, wow. That was intense. Are you really dense enough to miss all those signs, or is Chuuya just really good at acting normal? You know he's not lying. This is undoubtedly unhealthy, but you don't think you want to complain.

Warmth blooms in your chest and you get a little giddy. Is this a fucked up airport romance novel or what? The rich, handsome mafia boss has been secretly pining after you all this time too, even though you're a nobody, and he just can't wait to marry you! Okay, Chuuya isn't the boss and he hasn't said anything about marrying you, but he's gorgeous and he kidnapped you so it's close enough. It almost seems too good to be true. You get to stay in his house and quit your job, presumably to sit around and look pretty since he hasn't mentioned you having chores, and in exchange.... what? He wants to fuck you, like a sugar daddy of sorts? God, you can only hope.

This is so much to process, especially after you've apparently been drugged. You have to talk it out with him obviously, but not now. Later. When you wake up from this next nap you're going to take right now, snuggled up in sheets with a stupidly high thread count that smell like Chuuya.

✦✦✦

Unfortunately, Chuuya seems to have interpreted your initial reaction as a definitive rejection. And even though your situation isn't ideal, mostly because you can't leave, it's not like you have any other complaints. This has lead to easily the most ridiculous month of your life.

You'd had a short, hard think after your second nap of the day, that first day, and decided that this was an absolutely glorious situation to be in. The next time Chuuya had unlocked your door, bringing you food, you'd tried to talk to him about it.

Much to your confusion he'd just looked.... a little heartbroken. Like he didn't believe you at all. And now you want to punch yourself for letting him believe that, because Chuuya is horrifically stubborn and seems convinced you're lying to him to get out.

Sitting in bed, you ponder the absurdity of the situation. Chuuya is out for work, though he always makes a point to come home for at least one meal of the day. After the first week and a lot of begging he'd let you eat with him and also have free reign of the house when he was there, just so you weren't confined to what you now know to be the guest room. He doesn't let you have a phone or an internet connection for obvious reasons, but you have all the TV and books you could ever want, and a record player. Chuuya's taste in music was... more punk than you'd anticipated, but he seems perfectly happy to answer questions about each record when you ask.

So you ask questions, eat with him, ask about his day, you've even tried cleaning up a little while he's home and you're allowed out of the room! You're on your best behaviour to try and get him to touch you, to look at you even, but he just sighs like a kicked puppy and locks you back in the bedroom whenever he has to leave. He won't even give you a hello or goodbye kiss, and it's starting to sour your ideal of a domestic life. You'd be lying if you said it hadn't been an idle fantasy before, but now that it was both within reach and more unattainable than ever you feel like you're going crazy. What the fuck else are you supposed to do?

Flopping backwards onto the sheets, your eyes drift to the corner of your room. There, on the wall mounted lamp by the desk. He's got a camera. An idea begins to form in your mind. It's not like Chuuya had tried to hide the surveillance from you when you'd asked. To keep an eye on you, he'd said, to keep you safe. You know it's because he doesn't trust you to stay without trying to jump out the window or something equally stupid. You know he's got the system hooked up to his phone, that it's a live feed, and that he checks it sometimes. A grin spreads across your face, and you pray silently that he's bored at work.

It doesn't take long to set everything up. A hand towel from the ensuite bathroom, because of course Chuuya is fancy enough that his guest bedroom has an ensuite. A pillow, set on its side and placed in the middle of the bed. You, naked from the waist down except for underwear, straddling it with the towel on top to minimise mess. You'd had to estimate your position relative to the shot since you've never actually seen the camera's view, but it's a good enough job.

Straddling the pillow and bracing yourself on your hands, you close your eyes. Time for a show. You think of him. The soft, copper curls of hair, those gorgeous blue-grey eyes, and how he's taken you. He wants you, he has to want you. Out of everyone he could have he took you, kept you without asking. Like you were his already, like he owns you. Nothing gets you riled up faster than that.

Warmth settles low in your gut and you sigh. No, it's not time to move yet. You hope he's watching. What would that look like? Phone in hand, just taking a quick peek to check on you only to be met with this. You can imagine Chuuya's eyes widening in shock, maybe glancing quickly around him to make sure nobody else can see this. His hands, his gorgeous hands with their long, lithe fingers, squeezing tighter as he zeroes in on you.

Your hands sneak under your shirt, slowly, teasingly. They dance across your stomach before going up, up your chest, quickly pulling the fabric over your head. You're entirely exposed now, the sunlight streaming in through the windows and hitting your skin, lighting you up from behind in the camera's point of view. What if it saves the recordings? Will Chuuya watch the footage back? You hope so. You imagine him looking at the video over and over again while he palms his cock, maybe even at work, and the thought only makes the heat in your belly grow.

Grasping the pillow with one hand you brace yourself with the other, and roll your hips experimentally. A pleasant tingle of stimulation, dampened by your underwear being in the way, just how you wanted it. Your eyes slide shut again as you find a comfortable pace, head bowed. What would he look like while masturbating? His thick hair all messed up as his chest heaves, shirt undone and pants shoved down to his knees. His pants and grunts as his hand moves faster and faster and slick sounds fill the air. Has Chuuya ever thought about you, like you've thought about him? Like you're thinking about him right now?

Your face screws up a little and you whine, a bit louder than necessary. If the camera has a microphone, you want to make sure it catches every sound you make. A low groan reverberates in your chest next and you make no attempt to stop it, your movements speeding up a little as your cunt dampens. The friction is so light and teasing no matter how hard you grind down onto the pillow, it's already beginning to frustrate you.

With a little tug the pillow's seam slots itself perfectly against your clothed slit and you can hear your heavy breaths in your own ears.

"Chuuya...." You moan, quietly, wantonly.

He has to sound so much prettier than you, with that sweet voice that grows rough around the edges when he's excited or annoyed. You imagine his breathless panting and whining in your ear, his voice almost a growl while he fucks you, his hands gripping you like a bear trap. Oh fuck, you want him inside of you so badly. It's been too long, too much of having him right fucking there without being able to touch him. All you want is to reach into his pants, to feel his cock twitch and stiffen under your fingers. Does he like it rough, fast paced? Or slow and romantic? You can't decide, and you don't care. However he decides to take you, you'll go gladly. All you want is to fall apart on his fingers and tongue and cock, over and over again, enough to make up for lost time.

His tongue dancing over your clit, dipping in between your folds, oh how you need that. The pillow isn't enough, you're working yourself into a frenzy trying to get satisfaction from the teasing rubs, every pass of your hips making you lose your mind. You can barely think, except for fragmented fantasies about Chuuya. How you wish it was him below you right now, sucking on your clit and holding you down against his face. Your hands buried in that soft, silky hair of his as you rode out your orgasms. His moans vibrating against your cunt while he sucked and licked and fucked you on his tongue until you cried, and then not stopping until you collapsed over him in a sweaty mess. His already beautiful face stained with your slick even as he licked his lips clean and leaned in to kiss you.

Your head falls back with a cry of his name, all shame abandoning you. Quickly pulling one leg over the pillow you yank your underwear off, not even stopping to look at the pearly string of wetness that connects your soaked cunt to the fabric, tossing them onto the bed behind you and resuming your movements.

The change makes your knees weak and you whimper Chuuya's name again, almost automatically. The rough fabric of the towel feels divine, dragging across your clit over and over and almost burning with a raw ache. You pin the pillow with your legs too free up a hand and use it to pull back the hood, exposing the swollen nub. Your slick quickly leaves a wet patch on the once pristine fabric and the rough texture disappears slightly, leaving you both under and overstimulated.

Damnit, this isn't going to be enough to cum. You want to cum, you want Chuuya to be watching, you want him to break down the door and- and- something, anything. Push your face down and pull your hips into the air, spreading your ass to admire the mess you've made all for him. Lick a greedy stripe up your cunt to taste you before he bottoms out in one thrust, you're wet enough, you can take the sting. Fuck, the pain would feel so good if it came from him. The fast, unforgiving pace as he fucks you into the mattress, putting that insane stamina of his to good use until you're a braindead mess.

"H- Hah- fuck." Your voice shakes, you remember you're supposed to be making noise. "Chuuya, please, please.... Chuuya..." Your head thrown back, back arched, hips grinding mindlessly into the pillow as you beg, you're hopefully the picture of desperation and seduction. God, you need him to come home now.

The knot in your stomach tightens little by little and you concentrate on it, feeling your orgasm grow even as your legs begin to tremble from exertion. There's a sheen of sweat on your bare chest and your knees are beginning to hurt from bearing your weight, but you're so close. Just a little bit more, just-

"Fuck, I knew you'd come around. See? You're safe here, you're mine now."

The voice comes out of nowhere, scaring you so badly you yelp and lose concentration. Your orgasm, so tantalisingly close, slips through your fingers as you whine and look around.

It's two way, of course. Why hadn't you thought of that? The camera, it has a speaker on your end too. Chuuya is talking to you through the camera. Arousal spears through your gut and you turn your head towards where you know the device is, putting on a shaky smile.

"Are you- convinced now?" You pant. Your thighs are burning, badly. Still, your hips start moving again of their own accord.

"Absolutely I am, sweetheart." Oh, that nickname goes straight to your pussy, especially with the ragged, almost desperate tone in his voice.

"Chuuya," you moan shamelessly, "I miss you so bad... Want you to be here, I need you..."

"I'm coming doll, I'll be home soon." His voice crackles a little, but it's still recognisable. "You're the prettiest damn thing I've ever seen, don't stop moving okay? Put on a show for me."

You grin, once again curling over the pillow between your legs and focusing on your movements. It's not hard to find the edge again, you're already so riled up and his words are adding to the fire pooling in your guts.

"Keep talking- fuck, just keep taking to me," you beg.

"You like my voice, baby?" Chuuya sounds so self satisfied, you can picture the smug look on his face as clearly as if he was right in front of you. "You like it when I talk to you? Thought about my voice before?"

You nod frantically, stomach flexing. Just a little more, just a few more seconds...

"Gonna cum?" Chuuya's voice comes out a little breathless, almost awed. "Cum all over yourself just from humping your pillow and listening to me? Not even going to touch yourself, darling? Fuck, do it. I wanna see. Go on, cum for me."

That's all it takes, really. With a noise between a yell and a sob you reach your peak, cunt clenching around nothing while you ride out the high. Dimly you hear Chuuya's voice, rough and satisfied, praising you. You fall onto your face, landing in a sort of all fours position that keeps your back arched and ass in the air. Your poor, oversensitive clit has been rubbed raw against the towel and is still twitching, you must be a sight to see.

You turn your head to the side, looking in the general direction of the camera with a dazed smile.

"'M waiting for you, Chuu."

"I'm coming, doll."

#chuuya.bsd #chuuya x reader #yandere!chuuya #yandere chuuya #yandere!chuuya x reader #chuuya smut #yandere chuuya x reader

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magerightsmagefights · 1 year ago

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SPOILERS FOR BALDURS GATE 3 but I have to talk about this, I wheeze every time I think about it

Ok so I haven’t finished act 3 yet, so I am absolutely taking everything the Emperor says with a grain of salt, but the Emperor’s backstory is just so… breathtakingly funny to me, when compared to my other companions. Especially with how dramatically he was built up—your protector, your mysterious guardian, shielding his true identity because he could see no other choice, now forced to stand before you in his true form. The story itself practically had a flashing neon sign above his head screaming “This character is cool! This character is mysterious! Prepare yourself to receive the COOL and TRAGIC backstory that brought him to this place!”

And he. He was a hedge fund manager. Got that music and flashback sequence with the pained voice, “By night I devoured the brains of criminals. By day I controlled the mercantile groups of Baldurs Gate.” Like sir you invested in various businesses? Or did you like, establish and impose tax regulations upon local and foreign merchants? Because those are both neat, but like, my collection of demonic soldiers held against their will, abused servants/slaves seeking vengeance and Slightly Burdened Hippie Bear are not exactly overwhelmed by this backstory.

Emperor: Such was my influence, I came to be known as the Emperor within the shadows of Baldur’s Gate.

Tav: They… they started calling a business investor ‘the Emperor?’

Emperor: I was very good at business investment.

Tav: So our mysterious guardian was just a vigilante hedge fund manager—

Emperor: Time to talk about Prince Orpheus, immediately.

And then later you’re running through the city and you find his Super Secret Mysterious Hideout, and it’s just… some big tables covered in his notes, yes we will invest in this winery. No we will not invest in those cheeses. Someone is trying to traffic illegal goods here. Let’s create a hostile economic environment for this tavern. And it’s even funnier because he’s hanging out in your brain giving commentary the whole time about how dark and powerful he was, like bro. This is your office. This is the office in which you worked a 9-5 desk job. An executive desk job, granted, but very definitely a desk job.

Emperor: I controlled Baldurs Gate from that super fancy high-backed chair. No coin changed hands in the city without being approved at that giant dramatic table.

Tav: So board meetings.

Emperor: What?

Tav: That giant dramatic table is where you had board meetings.

Emperor: The Knights of the Shield decided what business could or could not take place—

Tav: Yes, a board meeting. You were the chairman of the board. It’s so funny that we have a hermit wizard and a vampire twink who embroiders his own underwear, but the nerdiest one has been hiding out in this magical D20 the whole time.

Emperor: … let’s talk about my mother’s silverware now.

#bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #bg3 the emperor

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billthedrake · 10 months ago

Text

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

#drakestories

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avianyuh · 3 months ago

Text

Irresponsible | Lee Heeseung

Summary: You're a beloved idol from 3rd gen. Your company is under HYBE, so you meet a lot of other idols just by walking the halls, leaving practice rooms and recording booths, and of course, riding the elevator. So, after a long night of demo making, on your way out of the building during your quiet elevator ride down, Heeseung gets on, also after a long night of recording.

word count:2.7k

“What were you thinking? Let me ask you this…Do you fully comprehend just how much damage this will do to not only your, but his career?”, “Do you know how irresponsible you’ve been?”, one of the chairman yelled.

I was sitting in a room full of executives. The table extended half of the size of the room. I had at least 30 people staring at me with expressionless faces. All middle aged men, judging me. What exactly do you do in a scenario where everyone has just found out about your love life and is now putting you on blast, like you’re a criminal, like you’ve done something horrendous. I stared out of the huge window to my left, mainly trying to avoid the judging onlookers. My manager sat on one side and my group’s leader was sat on the other. She was squeezing my hand under the table for moral support. My manager, though a little angry that I got caught, which he claims made him look bad, was still trying to defend me and calm the chairmen down. My manager straightened in his chair before clearing his throat. Everyone's eyes averted from me over to him momentarily which helped me calm down.

“I understand that everyone’s a bit on edge, but I think all we need to do is calm down, be reasonable and just release a statement denying the whole thing. This happens all the time…”, my manager was rambling on and on about how to do crisis PR management. I kept my gaze locked on the ground as I fidgeted with my feet. But then, in a matter of seconds, it felt like the world stopped. Everyone looked up and turned to face the large doors that led into the gigantic office. First, a middle aged man walked in, his head held high until he took a slight bow, greeting everyone. The CEO, along with the other minions all nodded back, their form of acknowledgement. After the man, came another manager, younger, someone you had sort of become familiar with over the past few months as you would come in and out of the dorms of your boyfriend. He briefly glanced over at you, but he didn’t smile. Most likely because just like your manager, this dating “slip up”, made him look bad. You gave a very small smile anyways, which was your way of silently apologizing for all of the trouble. After the manager walked in, you felt your heart start to race as you stared intently at the tall figure. In walked Heeseung, he kept his head down as he walked through the doors. But then for a short few seconds, he looked up at you, and this time it was you receiving a small smile. Except, this one wasn’t apologetic, it was reassuring. It was exactly what you needed to see since all of this happened. He bowed, before sitting down at the far end of the table. Jungwon followed in right behind him and took a seat. The fact that both of your group's leaders had to sit in on this meeting made you nervous. It made you think that certain decisions were possibly going to be made that would need the leaders present for. You took a deep breath in as you once again pointed your head down, eyes locked on the floor. It was just then when the CEO, along with his minions stood up. The CEO picked up a stack of papers before straightening them out on the desk. He then handed them to one of his assistants who then proceeded to pass them around the table.

Once you got yours, you started to feel sick as you read its contents. It was a contract of some sort. Well, more like an NDA. It was asking for all “parties involved” to not discuss anything that went on in the meeting. As you finished skimming the paper, you looked over at Heeseung, who now had a serious look on his face. He looked over at you once he too was finished reading. He subtly shook his head in disappointment, glancing down at the contract. Your group leader squeezed your hand again, she truly did feel bad for you.

You see, not only was this a dating scandal between two idols. It was a dating scandal between a “senior” and “junior” idol. You were three years older than Heeseung and had debuted 6 years before him. Your group were viewed as legends in the industry. Very well respected. Your group had been acquired by HYBE, which was where you had met Heeseung. You had seen him around that first year after his debut, you didn’t know his name but always felt drawn to him. You would sneak glances at each other if you passed in a hallway or saw him at any event you might have both attended. But nothing had really come of those interactions. It wasn’t until you had been in the same elevator one fateful evening that you finally introduced yourselves. You had stayed late on your company’s floor to work on some music, and coincidentally so had Heeseung. You had finished demos before you had noticed how late it was getting. So you locked your studio door and tiredly waddled toward the elevator, ready to make the trek back to your apartment. You were really sleepy and weren't in the mood to have a conversation with anyone. And to be honest, you didn’t expect to see anyone that late at night anyways. So you stood with your back against the elevator wall, and momentarily closed your eyes. But instead of being met with the sound of the elevator descending, you heard it open, and the sound of footsteps. You opened your eyes, now a little annoyed that someone else was in here with you, but tensed up at the sight of who this elevator intruder was.

“Oh, hello”, Heeseung greeted you, bowing before looking over at the buttons. “Are you going to the ground floor?”, for a second, all you did was look at him before you snapped yourself out of the trance you seemed to put yourself in. But, you had to admit that he was so handsome to look at. He had on glasses, a beanie, and very tired looking eyes.

“Uh, yes, yeah, I’m leaving”, you tried to sound nonchalant. “Oh, you’re Heeseung right?”, you asked, trying to sound casual. He gave you a bright smile as he nodded his head yes.

“It’s an honor to finally get to talk, I’ve seen you around the building for months.”, he said kindly. His words made your heart flutter. That means he noticed you too, you thought to yourself. “I would’ve introduced myself a long time ago, but I wasn’t sure if you were busy with something.”, he explained as you now both stood facing each other.

“Don’t worry about it, because that was my exact thought process too! I wanted to introduce myself but you always seemed like you were in the middle of something…”, you both laughed at the shared hesitancy. “So what were you doing here so late?”, you asked, trying to get more information from him.

“I could ask you the same question”, he playfully responded. You pursed your lips together and you tried to conceal your growing grin.

“I asked first.”, you retorted. He laughed as he threw his hands up, giving in.

“Wow, you're pushy. I was working on a song.”, he explained as he leaned against the elevator wall. “Now…what were you doing here so late?”, he quipped.

“Same reason, except I got through two songs”, you teased as you threw up two fingers.

“Impressive”, he responded. You could feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks, so you looked down for a second to compile your composure. When you looked back up, you were met with his eyes staring directly at you. You could sense the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to be scanning your face, almost like he was analyzing you.

So, you did the same. All conversation stopped for a good 30 seconds until Heeseung started speaking again. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”, he questioned, still staring at you with the same intensity. You decided to be honest with him. You were trying to feel out his intentions.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’ll be here then maybe I will.”you gave him a soft, closed lipped smile. He returned the expression just as the elevator doors opened again this time actually on the ground floor.

And just as you both ‘planned’, the next day, you paced the hallways, waiting for the perfect moment to run into Heeseung again. So, after multiple vending machine runs and jogs around your company floor, you decided to call it quits for the night since you really didn’t get any work done. You were way too focused on if you’d see Heeseung. You realized that though you came in on the same night as him, you didn’t know what time he was leaving. You told yourself that maybe it was for the best. After all, he was your “junior”, it probably wasn’t a good idea. So, you started to exit out of everything and close down your computer when all of a sudden you heard a light tap on the door. You turned and looked, trying to make out the silhouette on the other side. But, deep down, you suspected that you knew who your late night visitor was, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up.You opened the door and there he was. Leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets looking tall and calm and handsome, Heeseung.

“Hi”, you greeted him as you waved him inside. He gladly accepted as he entered your studio, doing a 360 as he started looking around. “I was actually about to shut everything off for the night. I wasn’t having much luck with music today.”, you explained since you noticed him looking at your dark computer screen.

“Oh you have writer's block?”, Heeseung questioned, giving you a look of genuine curiosity. “Is it just today, or have you been having a problem for a while?”

You didn’t know what it was about him, but as you watched him sit down and wave you over to the other empty seat, you couldn’t help but feel so at ease around him. Yeah, you were attracted to him, and normally when you found a guy attractive, it made you overthink everything, but around him? Calm, cool and collected. It was strange.

“No, it just seems to be a problem today, I was fine yesterday. I guess I’m distracted.”, you murmured. He raised his eyebrow, leaning forward in his seat so he was closer to you.

“What are you distracted by?”, he whispered. You looked at him, first focused on his eyes, then your gaze darted down to his lips. You told yourself over and over in your mind that it was a bad idea, and you didn’t want to get him or yourself in any trouble, but honestly, he was looking very irresistible.

You took a deep breath in, “I don’t know”, you responded back, also in a whisper. And that was when he leaned in, Heeseung’s lips crashed into yours. You pulled him by his shirt closer into your body. Your eyes were closed, your heart was racing as you sunk deeper and deeper into his affection, into his kisses. You both momentarily halted your makeout, taking a minute to catch your breath before going back in for more.

And that was the start of your relationship.

After that, the two of you snuck around quite a lot. Because your group was older than Heeseung’s, you guys didn’t live in dorms anymore and all of your members had their own places. You were no different. And because Heeseung lived in a dorm with many other people, including managers, it made it hard to spend time at his residence. So most nights, if he could sneak away, he’d come over to your place and spend the night. This however, after almost a year of dating, would end up backfiring when you were followed home one night. However you didn’t go home alone, you were returning from a date with Heeseung. Someone was hiding in a bush across the street and snapped as many pictures as they could of the two of you walking into the apartment. Then the next morning, more pictures were taken of Heeseung walking out, with you leaving an hour later.

So obviously, the media had a field day with the story when the pictures got leaked. And now here you are. Forced to sign a NDA, basically pressured into breaking up your relationship with the man you had fallen in love with. You glanced over at Heeseung again, which is where you locked eyes. His gave off a sense of sadness. Something you hated to see in him. You only ever wanted him to be happy. And you thought that you could make him happy, but now you felt like all you caused Heeseung was pain, due to you being irresponsible. One of the staff for Enhypen stood up, gesturing towards me, “We mean no disrespect, but we feel that if the company confirms this relationship, these reports I should say, we feel that Heeseung’s career would be put in jeopardy. Y/n is not only older in age, but in experience. This should be her problem, her apology to make. We should deny it and all move on.” The man sat back down in his seat, Heeseung shook his head in disapproval and mouthed an I’m so sorry, towards you. You nodded reassuringly at him before looking back over at the CEO. You felt powerless, like no matter what was proposed, you were going to end up as the big loser in this. Your manager stood up just then and started to speak, “I don’t see what the problem is. And matter of fact, I don’t see why you’re shaming Y/n”, he said angrily, “They’re both adults, if they want to date, let them! What’s the point in making her look bad? Just admit it, let people be upset for three days and then watch them move on. Why punish these kids?”, he questioned. The room went quiet for a second before the CEO cleared his throat. Everyone turned to look over at him.

“This relationship is too high of a risk to take. We will deny it and move on. End of story.”, and with that, the CEO was up and out of his chair, walking out of the room. You felt a lump start to form in your throat, the kind you get when you’re about to cry. But in this case, tears were actually starting to form in your eyes. You tried to discreetly look up at the ceiling to get them to sink back in and not fall, but you were positive that your emotions were easily readable to all the onlookers. Heeseung’s manager ushered him out of the room before you could even say a word to him. But as he was being pushed out, he looked back over at you and gave you a wink. Your group’s leader held your hand under the table as she tried to tell you that everything was going to be okay. But you didn’t need her reassurance. You knew that everything would work out.

That night, instead of the sound of keys jingling at your front door, you heard a tapping sound coming from your bedroom window. Upon arriving in your bedroom, there was Heeseung standing outside on the small balcony. You laughed and opened the window as you watched him climb in. You stared at each other for a few seconds, no words spoken between you. All he did was pull your body into his own as he smashed his lips onto yours. His kisses were comforting, familiar and reassuring. Which was everything you needed from your boyfriend. As he pulled away, he held your face in his hands as he peered into your eyes, “No one could ever take me away from you”, he whispered.

“I know”, you responded as you rested your head on his chest.

#enhypen #heeseung #enhypen x reader #heeseung x reader #heeseung imagines #enhypen fic #lee heeseung

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