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reviewsbysonu · 1 year ago

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Best Office Chairs Under 10000: Finding Comfort and Style Without Breaking the Bank

Welcome to our comprehensive guide on the Best office chairs under 10000! In today’s fast-paced world, where many of us spend hours sitting at our desks, it’s crucial to have a chair that not only provides comfort but also supports our posture and enhances productivity. With a plethora of options available, we understand the importance of finding the perfect office chair that meets your requirements while being budget-friendly.

Ergonomics: A Key Factor for Office Chairs

When it comes to office chairs, ergonomics should be a top priority. Ergonomically designed chairs offer exceptional comfort and ensure that your body is well-supported throughout the day. They help prevent backaches, neck strain, and other posture-related issues that can hinder your work performance.

Supportive Features for Optimal Comfort

Adjustable Height: Look for chairs with adjustable height mechanisms, allowing you to customize the chair’s position according to your desk height. This feature ensures proper alignment of your elbows and wrists with the keyboard, reducing strain on your arms and shoulders.

Lumbar Support: A chair with built-in lumbar support promotes a healthy spine curvature, relieving lower back pain and reducing the risk of long-term discomfort.

Padded Armrests: Cushioned armrests provide additional support to your arms and help alleviate strain from your shoulders and neck.

Breathable Materials: Opt for chairs made of breathable materials like mesh or fabric. These materials allow air circulation, preventing sweating and discomfort during extended sitting sessions.

Style Meets Functionality

While comfort is paramount, we understand the desire for an office chair that complements your workspace aesthetics. The best office chairs under 10000 strike a perfect balance between style and functionality, ensuring you have a visually appealing setup without compromising on comfort.

Top Picks for Best Office Chairs Under 10000

1. INNOWIN Venture Premium High Back Ergonomic Leatherette Office & Work from Home Chair

f you are looking for a stylish and comfortable office chair that provides excellent support and comfort during long periods of sitting, the Green Soul® Jupiter Superb Office Chair is an ideal choice. With its synchro tilt mechanism, you can easily adjust the chair’s reclining angle, and the smooth-rolling rollers and 360-degree swivel allow for easy maneuverability around your workspace. Its sleek and contemporary design makes it a perfect fit for any office or workspace.

Similarly, the INNOWIN Venture Premium High Back Ergonomic Leatherette Office & Work from Home Chair is another great option. It offers effortless movement and mobility on carpets and hard floors due to its 360-degree swivel and smooth-rolling casters. The leatherette upholstery not only adds to its comfort but also makes it easy to clean and maintain.

In summary, both chairs provide a comfortable seating experience and are suitable for individuals who spend extended periods of time at their desks. Whether you prefer the Green Soul® Jupiter Superb Office Chair or the INNOWIN Venture Premium High Back Ergonomic Leatherette Office & Work from Home Chair, you can expect a combination of style, comfort, and functionality in your office setup.

2. SAVYA HOME® APEX Chairs

Introducing SAVYA HOME® APEX Chairs — the perfect blend of comfort, style, and ergonomic design for your office or home workspace. These chairs are meticulously crafted to provide exceptional support and promote healthy sitting habits, making them an ideal choice for individuals seeking both comfort and productivity.

SAVYA HOME® APEX Chairs feature a high backrest that offers excellent lumbar support, reducing strain on your back and promoting proper posture. The well-padded seat cushion ensures optimal comfort throughout the day, allowing you to focus on your work or leisure activities without distractions.

These chairs are designed to cater to individual preferences and needs, offering adjustable features such as height and tilt mechanism. This adaptability ensures a comfortable seating experience for a wide range of body types and ergonomic requirements.

Constructed with sturdy materials and a robust frame, SAVYA HOME® APEX Chairs are built to last. Their durability and reliability make them a worthwhile investment for long-term comfort and support in your workspace.

With their sleek and contemporary design, these chairs seamlessly integrate into any office or home environment, adding a touch of sophistication to your surroundings.

3. Amazon Brand — Solimo Comber High Back Mesh Office Chair

Introducing the Solimo Comber High Back Mesh Office Chair, a premium offering from the well-known Amazon brand, Solimo. Designed to provide comfort, support, and style, this office chair is a perfect choice for individuals seeking a reliable and ergonomic seating solution.

The Solimo Comber High Back Mesh Office Chair features a high back design with a breathable mesh material that allows for excellent airflow, keeping you cool and comfortable even during long hours of work. The mesh backrest provides optimal lumbar support, promoting proper posture and reducing strain on your back.

Equipped with a synchro tilt mechanism, the chair enables you to adjust the seat angle and recline comfortably, enhancing your seating experience. The padded seat cushion offers plush support, ensuring a comfortable seating surface throughout the day.

Maneuverability is made effortless with the chair’s smooth-rolling casters and 360-degree swivel, allowing you to move freely around your workspace without any hassle. The chair’s sturdy construction and high-quality materials ensure long-lasting durability, making it a reliable companion for years to come.

With its sleek and modern design, the Solimo Comber High Back Mesh Office Chair seamlessly blends into any office or home environment. It offers both style and functionality, making it an excellent addition to your workspace.

Comparison and Decision-Making

When deciding on the best office chair under 10000 in India that suits your needs, consider factors such as adjustability, lumbar support, material quality, and overall design. Each person’s preferences may vary, so it’s essential to assess which features are most important to you.

Conclusion

In conclusion, investing in a high-quality office chair is a wise decision that enhances your productivity and overall well-being. Our guide on the best office chairs under 10000 has provided valuable insights into the key factors to consider while choosing the perfect chair for your workspace.

Remember, a comfortable and supportive office chair not only benefits your physical health but also improves your focus and efficiency. So, make an informed decision and create a workspace that fosters both comfort and style.

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gladiatorcunt · 1 month ago

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- MOLTEN LAVA CAKE / IV.

when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man

cw: kinktober prompt (creampie), unprotected sex & playing fast and loose with it’s possible consequences, yandere behavior, age gap (reader 20’s, capitano & zhongli 50s, baizhu 40s), power imabalance, non con somno (childe), dub con, innocence kink & lowkey medical malpractice (baizhu), reader has a pussy, implied kidnapping (capitano), if you squint childe & capitano’s sections are connected, frequent breeding kink type talk, manipulation & coercion, implied baby trapping, dead dove do not eat

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

CEO!Zhongli

“Do be quiet, darling.” Zhongli grits, cupping your head with both of his palms and tugging you upwards. “I have no intentions of being an exhibitionist today.”

You arch off his grand wooden desk and gasp at the spark of pain in your neck, but you’d take that over drowning yourself in paperwork any day. Your boss’s cock is ramming into your ass at a porn star’s speed, the wet smacks of flesh slapping against flesh bounce off the one way glass walls.

This situation is the most cliché porn plot in the book though, the distant slightly emotionally unavailable boss bending his secretary over his desk and zipping down their pants. You had been running late that day, you forgot to set your alarm for Mr. Zhongli’s breakfast tea run and you had less cat food than you thought so you had to make a break for the grocery store.

By the time you scrambled in with a steaming cup of your boss’s favorite tea and his stack of reports to review and meeting requests to schedule, the older man was tapping his foot and crossing his arms. He didn’t look disappointed, not quite, but the gentle warmth in his eyes was gone and his small smile was flat.

In your desperation not to lose your job, this was your first and you’re only in your junior year of college, you follow him into his office and set down your things. Your cherry Marc Jacobs tote bag (bought by him, his papers and tea (bought by you with his money), your SINOCULTURAL orchid leather handbag (also bought by him, for variety).

Zhongli wasn’t the kind of pervy boss who’s hit on you before, you guess now that he was just lying in wait. You were the one that draped yourself over his desk with tears in your eyes, desperate and naive and relying on the principle of ‘sex sells’.

He’ll draft up a different beginning to your love story at your wedding.

“You take cock so well, perhaps we’ll have to have a discussion about adding this to your list of duties, hm?”

The condom sliding in and out of your walls makes you want to pout, but you know he has to have one. How he was able to pull a pack from his desk drawer on the spot is beyond you, you’re not quite willing to admit that you’d be so willing to keep your job you’d risk a baby and/or STDs.

“A-ah! Y-yes, sir, whenever you’re available, i-i’ll do anything.” You whisper over your shoulder and push your ass up, wanting the sight of his long cock disappearing under the thick cheeks to be as enticing as possible.

You clutch onto the golden plague bearing his esteemed name for dear life, muffling your sounds into the furniture’s lacquer, and let your boss pour all his stress into your holes. You tried to goad him into taking your ass but he gave you an amused chuckle and a firm pat to each cheek, chiding at you that he’d do it properly another time. He’s a gentleman under his silvered tongue and all his golden scales.

Zhongli seems to get fed up with the condom the closer he gets to his roaring orgasm, and all you’re able to let out in a punched squeal as he sharply pulls out and rips the condom off.

“This damn thing,” He huffs, snarling as he tosses the shredded scraps of plastic to the side, sinking back into your pussy in one go. “There, much better.”

You’re discovering that Mr. Zhongli is not the kind of man who groans unabashedly in the heat of the moment, he's prone to contented sighs and easy laughs. The closest you get to anything animalistic is the guttural grunt he lets slip as you clench around him near the end of his deep thrusts, milking him for all the cum this HR nightmare of a quickie can get you.

“One more thing before you go, be a dear and clean that up for me.” He points a black nail down at the puddle of cum expectantly, somehow having pulled his cock free with a wet flopping noise when you were too dizzy to notice, sinking back into his swiveling chair.

Sugar Daddy!Capitano

Your back hits the hotel wall, softened by Capitano’s hands coming to slide in between you and the surface.

“Mmfh- I’ve never… I’ve never done this before.” You shyly admit as your sighs fade into whimpers, the man’s stubble rubbing on your neck during his rain of kisses.

He laughs and his hot breath hits your pulse point, your heart skips a beat. “So you’ve told me. Don’t worry, you’re nothing but safe with me. I’ve already wired the initial 50,000 for our first meeting to your account, we don’t have to do anything that you are not comfortable with.”

You nod and run your fingers through his black hair, offering up more of your unmarked neck. Of course you’re comfortable, you were so nervous you could die hours earlier, but your first sugar daddy experience has turned out to be the ideal. Capitano made sure you were happy and pliant, offering ten times the amount of what most other men would just for this one dinner. What wouldn’t you be down with doing now?

He nips at your bottom lip, wrapping his burly arms around your chubby thighs and hoisting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist and giggle as you fall onto the bed of the hotel’s presidential suite. You trade sloppy and clumsy kisses for less and less articles of clothing, he places your jewelry and your accessories neatly on the nightstand.

“So you don’t prick yourself or worry about losing them, bambi.” He explains and pulls you into another syrupy kiss.

You lose yourself to fit of giggles as he reverently kisses down your body. The next hour is spent with your new sugar daddy licking your pussy, eating you out like a man would gulp down an oasis after a lifetime of being stranded in the desert. You couldn’t say how many times you flood his awaiting mouth with your juices and seed, but you’ll always remember how his Adam's Apple bobs on every swallow. As if it nourishes him, replenishes his soul from inside and out, warms like a good hearty soup.

Capitano slithers up your body to stroke a finger down your face, “Are you ready for me, honey? You’re spewing like a fountain but we can always just cuddle.”

“No, I'm ready, I want this, want you. Please, Daddy, need your cock.” And your money, but mostly your cock right now.

You settle into your position on your back and spread your legs, you grab the back of your ankles and keep them that way. Bearing yourself for the hungry gaze of a man twice your age.

“Alright, needy love, aren’t you? Here you go.” He coos, lining up his fat dick with your slick entrance and sinking in.

You almost wish you had turned the lights off. The way his massive looks hovering above yours, muscles tense and waiting to be exercised. You don’t have to look down at where his cock feeds your pussy, it’s like you can feel what every nerve and vein is doing and touching in your guts. You’re so glad the conversation about being tested was had on the sugaring app, you’re both clean and on the pill so you thought why not indulge in another first.

“Gorgeous cunt. Worth so much fucking more than 50,000. You like France, bambi? I’ll get you a castle in the countryside, this pussy would look divine getting pounded in one of their foyer’s and over their balconies.” He groans, husky and scratchy, kissing you and grinding his cock deep in your quivering pussy like you just got married.

You have to show him how to take a video of his goopy cum dripping out of your puffy folds, spreading them with your fingers and pushing it back inside.

The next morning, you wake up to a bundle of fresh roses and a calligraphy note on the pillow next to your head. You smile and take it all in, but eventually you tug on last night’s clothes and grab your bag. You grin down at your phone, feeling the butterflies play war drums in your stomach, this going somewhere good. There are times when you can just tell.

The suite door is locked, a man’s voice outside asks if you’re ready to be taken back to the boss’s home. On the way there you look through your bag, a message from your intuition, and your birth control is gone. But there are listings for several foreign properties, with a sticky note attached to the first.

‘Tell me which ones you like when you get home. I have my broker on the phone.”

Stalker!Childe

It’s a routine for him, slip in under your window, sink onto your bed and straddle your sleeping body, and fill you up with his cum until your belly bloats. You’ve never noticed, he’s good at cleaning up. And if you have, you’re docile enough to let him keep at it. Let the rabid wolf keep pawing at your door with bloody paws, leaving a carcass at your feet and doing it all over again the next day.

You know it’s just your boyfriend loving on you in private until you’re ready to go public. He understands you’re shy, a lot of the partners he’s had in the past haven’t exactly been social butterflies, but baby it’s just little ol’ Ajax! He wouldn’t hurt a fly let alone his precious significant other, don’t be silly. He has these kinds of conversations with you through hushed whispers against your ear and trembling fingers slipping under the straps of your tank top.

Ajax always preps you, save for a couple of times in the beginning because he was too excited. He prefers doing it with his tongue, but he does love a good fingerbanging session. He’d never cause any pain that wasn’t fun for the both of you, cross his heart and hope to die. He even brings a back up inhaler that he stole from your pharmacist in case you lose your current one.

He grins as he shimmies you out of your sleepwear, you never much, another sign that you’re meant to be “Shh, lovebug, I hope you’re having the sweetest dreams right now. I’m just stopping by to say hi. I have to be quicker this time, I'm real sorry, bub.”

Some as-gentle-as-possible rough fingerbanging it is.

Ajax keeps his eyes peeled so wide they burn a little as he crooks and curls his fingers in your tight pussy, marveling at your groggy whimpers that sooner than later snowball into light moans.

“You looked stunning in your outfit today, I like looser tops on you. I can see your titties bounce, swear to god. The leggings were a nice touch too, wanted to jog over during your walk and smack the shit out of it. But that’s not the meet cute you deserve, is it cutie?” He grips your face in one hand, the free one that’s not knuckles deep in pussy juice, shaking your head for ‘no’ for you.

“I promise we’re gonna meet soon, it breaks my heart to see you look so lonely, bub.” He’s not fazed when you seem like you’re waking up, he just ‘aw’s and strokes his thumb on your clit until you’ve fallen back asleep. “I can’t wait. I’ve gone over everything a million times, what I’m gonna wear, what I’m gonna say, our first date, our “first” time, I'm so ready for it all with you.”

You’re adorable, your brow is pinching and you’re tossing and turning. Your soft moans become louder and since you’re a heavy sleeper that doesn’t live in an apartment (not that he’d stop anyway, he’s seen how your next door neighbors check you out when you’re not looking), he scissors his fingers and speeds up the thrusts of his hand.

After months of this and vigorous hours at the gym, his wrist has stopped cramping entirely. He slips his free hand under his jeans and clasps it around his leaking dick, jerking himself off as he finger fucks your perfect pussy.

“Oh, there it is, honey.” Ajax gasps, tightening his grip around his painfully hard cock just as your walls tighten around his fingers. “It’s okay, keep going for me, you can do it.”

He times his strokes to the thrusts of his fingers, his breathing in sync with every rise and fall of your chest. You’re so wet, you’re leaking around his digits, your pussy making a sick squelching sound

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna cum baby, just from fingering your pretty pussy.” He pants, circling his thumb over the head of his weep dick and smearing his precum all over his length.

He’s moving so fast his hand is a blur, and he really doesn’t even register the sensation of fucking himself with his fist. Instead what he feels is the way your thighs seize up and your breath hitches, you arch your back off the bed in your sleep and that’s when he knows it’s time.

“Fuck, okay. Lemme get a little closer, lovebug, don’t want any of it to go to waste, right?” He keeps stroking his throbbing cock and blasting his fingers into your pussy, awkwardly trying to find his footing so he can get a good position.

He takes his fingers out of you and his heart squeezes in his chest when your hips buck after them and you whine.

“Here it comes, baby.” Ajax laughs at his own joke, positioning the tip of his dick right against your hole. With a shaky breath and an even shakier smile, he breaches your hole with only that part of himself, loving the way your cunt welcomes it in.

He laughs again when he floods your insides, crossing his fingers behind his back for this one to take. Don’t worry, it’s only a fantasy for now, you should at least have your first date before he knocks you up.

OBGYN!Baizhu

“Just lie back on the exam chair for me and we can begin.” Dr. Baizhu smiles warmly at you as you nervously play with your hands in the clinical room.

You nod, wanting to speak at little as possible. The chair’s paper covering crinkles and creases as you climb onto it, shuffling around before settling into a somewhat comfortable positon lying on your back. You look to Dr. Baizhu on your right, he’s available on your insurance and he has stellar reviews on any site worth trusting you could find. You’re just anxious anyway, and this is something you have to do, it won’t do you any good to get paranoid about all the things that could go wrong in a doctor’s office.

Baizhu’s eyes crinkle in the corners and he takes a seat on one of those rolling black stools. “So I take it that this is your first pelvic exam? Well, then be assured that you’re in good hands. It’s nothing scary, but I need to make sure your vulva and reproductive organs are in perfect working order.”

You laugh awkwardly and mutter back a “I know, I'm fine. Just a little tired, traffic was a nightmare.”

Your nerves already feel like they’re fading away, Dr. Baizhu’s voice is so pleasant and he has such a kind demeanor, you understand why this clinic was so eager to have him. The woman who signed you in was raving that it was his first day after leaving a major hospital, that they were so lucky and you were too.

“Now I'll have you slide down to the end of the table and put your knees in these stirrups, it’s perfectly safe and if you need to take a breather, please let me know.” He croons, allowing you the freedom and comfort to act on your own. He’d never want to make you feel panicked, as if he were forcibly restraining you.

The exams aren’t really a big deal when you’ve gotten over that hump, but Baizhu knows that first times of any variety can be scary. Especially for skittish patients such as yourself, with as much prey drive as a barn bunny being chased by a sheepdog.

You lie there and endure every probe and thoughtful hum. Your vulva is fine and Dr. Baizhu ends that part of the inspection with a quick pat to your mound, his lips twitching as if trying to resist the urge to kiss.

“Okay, now I'm just going to check out your cervix, keep still.” The man hums, smoothing a hand down your right calf from the stirrup to your knee. “You’ll feel some pressure, but nothing painful.”

“Really?” You bite your lip and eye the instruments on the little table by the sink.

Dr. Baizhu chuckles, “Of course. Some patients do experience pain, but it’s not a definite thing, everybody’s different. At most, you’ll feel a tad uncomfortable and exposed.”

So you brace yourself and expect to feel the cold metal of what looks like some kind of forceps. Instead you look down to see your doctor unbuttoning his pants.

He catches your eye and waves off your concern, “Cold metal just seems so abrasive for your first time. You might do better with a more… human approach, something to test how well you can stretch. Don’t worry, I'll put protection on, I'd be a horrible doctor if I didn't.”

Sure enough he slides a latex condom on, covered in tiny holes but you brush it off as being a part of the design. Baizhu’s cock twitches, feeling a sick thrill at how easy you are, at how he can whip his dick out and you’ll believe it’s in your best interest.

He doesn’t release you from the stirrups, and they rattle as he plunges inside inch by inch. Slowly and mind numbingly, to properly gauge your cunt’s ability to expand around the intrusion. You gape up at him, feeling far more than just a tad uncomfortable and exposed. His lips twitch again, torn between maintaining the facade and stuffing your cervix with his cock or breaking character and dipping down to kiss your adorably parted lips.

“I’d give you a piece of candy if that wouldn’t embarrass you. You’re doing great, just relax and the pressure will ease up.”

“Ngh- hah- O-okay, doctor. Thank you for helping me.” You don’t know why you say it, who thanks their doctors for doing a basic exam? But he groans and his hips rush forward all the same.

Your cunt is impossibly tight, which is to be expected but it’s not any less delightful to experience.

The paper underneath you makes you want to claw your eyes out as his thrusts force your back to slide back and forth on it. That, the stirrup straps clacking, and your shared soft pants are the only sounds in the locked room. It’s not as anxiety inducing as you’d expect, the planets in the office orbit around the doctor and as long as they think he’s in an appointment (and isn’t he?) they won’t interrupt. His eyes crease, he promises to give you a home visit when you’re done here, just to be thorough and make good on that promise of candy.

Something sweet for the embodiment of the cavities is in his soul, cunny strangles him tighter than a noose.

Dr. Baizhu shudders as you reflexively clench around his pulsing cock and attempt to kick out your legs only to be held back by the stirrups, “Don’t mind the mess, ‘s all par for the c-course, my dear.”

You squirt on his next thrust, and your tangy juices drip down onto the cold gray floor. The gooey cum that escapes the holes in the condom follow suit and form a little pool. Dr. Baizhu takes several pictures of your seed heavy pussy with his flip phone for medical reference.

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dark-moonlust · 5 months ago

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Cοckwarming Minοtaur PART 1: Office

I’m turning this imagine into a series!!!!

Pairing: Minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: your Minotaur boyfriend Balen is madly in love with you. And he has a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He always finds excuses to have you sit on his lap. Even when you are at work.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, semi-public workplace smut, Minotaur huge🍆, cοckwarming, lots of come. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is a series and you can find more here and on Patreon.

You loved your Minotaur boyfriend, Balen.

The two of you had met three years ago at a workplace friendly to both monsters and humans. Balen was your superior, and you had just started working as his secretary. From the very first meeting, you had felt something deep and strong connecting him to you. You were attracted to him, incredibly aroused and in need of him. Balen had explained that it was the mating bond, a sacred bond that tied his heart to yours. Since then, you’d decided to give your relationship a chance and be together.

Your relationship was based on mutual trust and security, a connection deeper and stronger than you’d ever experienced.

Fast forward to the present, you still loved him like crazy, your relationship never better.

Balen was a fascinating presence in your life. Despite his towering and unusual appearance, your Minotaur was tender and sweet. You saw past his different appearance and found something deep and poignant with him. He cared for you better than any human boyfriend would — and fucked you with a passion that left you breathless.

Balen was madly in love with you. And he had a wicked little obsession with cockwarming. He was obsessed with the feel of you, the security of holding you in his arms while his cock pulsed inside you. And he always found excuses to have you sit on his lap, his cock thrust up your depths as he resumed his day as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

During shopping? During work? During lunch, dinner or any time of the day. Yes to all. Balen somehow made it work.

At work, he was particularly demanding when cockwarming him. Coworkers might enter his office, but he kept you there, your neat dress hiding your flushed face and betraying your state. Sometimes he played with your clit and made you cum, other times, he just stayed inside you and made work calls and reviewed business files. And when he finally pulled out of you, it was always with the promise to find a way to be close to you later.

That morning, you were in your office working on a presentation for an important project. You’d finished it with ease and were eager to share your ideas with your boss and colleagues. As you sat at your desk, typing away at your computer, the phone rang.

Called ID: Mr. Balen - Office.

You had an idea of what this call was about.

“Hello,” you answered casually.

“Come to my office,” your boyfriend said, his voice deep and throaty. “I need to check the progress of your presentation.”

“Yes, Sir.”

You complied, standing up and making your way to his spacious office. You knocked and entered discretely.

And there he was.

Seated at his magnificent mahogany desk, the sheer size of him dwarfed the surrounding furniture. Balen’s hulking form filled the room, his presence overwhelming. He was wearing a charcoal gray suit, the clothing tailored to fit his immense size. He was at least three times bigger than you, his body chiseled with muscles and silky fur. His head was crowned with a pair of curved horns, his face a captivating combination of beast and man. Upon seeing you, his dark eyes lit up and he let out a deep rumble, vibrating from his chest.

“Come here,” he said, his voice casual but demanding.

“I’ve brought my presentation,” you said but as soon as you were inches from him, he pulled you to him, his hands lifting your dress and guiding you to sit on his lap.

“Balen,” you whined as he quickly tugged away your panties, a finger finding its way inside you. You were drenched, wet from the earlier fuck he’d given you during the car ride to work. You clutched his broad shoulders, burying your face in his chest and biting your lips as that wickedly perfect digit stretched your walls, preparing you for his cock.

Soon, you felt him shift, unzipping his trousers and freezing his monstrous cock. Your Minotaur sported a dick unlike any other. It was long and curved, thick and surrounded by protruding veins. The head was broad and leaking pre-cum, his balls round and swollen, the poor babies squeezed between his legs.

Strong hands cupped your ass, positioning you over his raging girth. The cockhead nudged your entrance, coaxing your pussy lips apart and slowly invading your depths. With a slow, deliberate upward thrust, he buried himself inside you, a low groan of satisfaction rumbling from his chest. Your belly bulged from the sheer girth of him inside you. You moaned lewdly but quickly muffled your cries by biting his shoulder. He loved it when you did that.

“So good for me. Just for a little bit, baby, okay?” he murmured, his hands resting possessively on your hips. “I need this.”

You nodded, trying to control your breathing as you adjusted to the invasion and stretch. Balen resumed his work, one large hand rubbing your ass from under your dress while the other resumed his work, moving expertly over his keyboard as if nothing was out of the ordinary. He even studied your presentation while you struggled to focus with the constant feel of his cock stretching your pussy.

“Excellent work with your presentation,” he praised, “you covered every important point.”

“Th…thank you,” you murmured, running your fingers through the exposed fur at his neck.

You wiggled a little, desperate for release and rubbed your clit against him. His hand on your ass pressed you closer against him, thrusting just barely inside you. He did it again and again, rewarding you for taking his dick so well. A few minutes later, the friction against your clit was perfect and you came, your walls contracting hard around his cock. You bit his shoulder to muffle your cries and Balen followed, releasing pump after pump of his load inside you. He was surprisingly quiet and reserved, but you knew his passion was great; his heartbeat was erratic.

“Good girl,” he whispered in your ear, his breath warm against you.

It was at that moment, that a coworker knocked on the door. You clutched your boyfriend, your heart racing. Balen remained calm, his hands steady as he continued to work and bid the coworker to enter. The coworker, a male werewolf, entered, used to the sight of you hugging your boyfriend and what was happening beneath your neat clothing. Everyone in the office knew of your relationship and the demands of your minotaur boyfriend. Balen had made it so everyone respected you no matter what.

Balen and the werewolf discussed business as usual, while your face flushed with the effort of maintaining composure. Balen’s cock was throbbing inside you, his seed overflowing even if he was buried balls deep inside you. Once the coworker left, Balen kissed you, his tongue brushing against your lips before thrusting into your mouth. He tasted every crevice of your mouth and then drew back, a hint of a grin on his bull face.

“You did well,” he drawled, his voice thick with pride.

“Don’t I always?” you teased sweetly.

“Always.” He pressed you closed against him, his cock kissing so deep inside you that you groaned. “I love you mate. Love your beautiful smile, your lovely heart and your pretty little pussy.”

You smiled. “I love you, too, my horny minotaur.”

“Hmmm…” he growled. “You are my everything, little mate and it seems I can’t function without you.”

“Balen…” you trailed off, winching as more of his seed tricked down your thighs. “We made a mess. Shouldn’t we—”

“It’s alright, my love,” he said. “There are clothes in the cabinet. I always keep spares for both.”

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#minotaur x reader #minotaur x human #minotaur smut #minotaur monster #minotaur x you #monster x reader #monster x you #monster fucker #monster lover #monster smut #monster x human #monster x female reader #monster boyfriend #monster fudger #monster romance #monster fuqqer #monster fic

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neoiightss · 2 months ago

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Having a separate room - NCT 127

Hii, this is my first request, so I’m really excited! Sorry for disappearing guys, I was extra busy with work, but I’m back! Please feel free to send me any requests ^ ^

pairing: y/n x johnny, taeyong, doyoung, yuta, jaehyun, jungwoo, mark, haechan.

warnings: established relationships, pure fluff, domestic life.

Johnny

He’s understandable right off the bat. He doesn’t see a problem with it, and as soon as you mention wanting to use the extra room in your house as a personal area, he will gladly help you decorate or build the furniture.

As you two walk through the Ikea’s aisles, picking up a desk and a chair for your space he points at a cute set of pink-colored decorative frames that would go well with the theme you wanted.

��What do you think, babe? I could hang them right above your desk, it’ll look good, right?”

He asks excitedly, making you smile genuinely before nodding, he smiles back with your approval as he puts the products in your cart.

Taeyong

Another one that will be so excited, taking it as a little project of yours, helping you decorate the place (you might have to tone him down a little, or else he’ll just make it his style).

“Look we can install a shelf right here and fill it with my Spongebob figures set”

He points excitedly, walking around the spare room in your shared apartment, planning all the decorations and furniture’s positions as soon as you mention wanting to use it as your home office place.

“Yeah, but that’s yours and I don’t even like Spongebob that much, maybe I can just put some candles..”

He pouts trying to win you over with his puppy eyes. Which, unfortunately for you, it works very well, giving in as you watch him smile brightly, walking to the next wall where he wants to graffiti a cool design for you, of course.

Doyoung

He probably already has a room for himself, a little studio where he practices and records his songs and doubles it as storage for some of his clothes as well. So he gets it when you mention wanting to have a place for you, even though he loves living with you and enjoying your moments together he just wants some alone time to recharge and gather his thoughts. Will help you out with decoration if you ask, but mostly will just do the heavy work like bringing and building furniture, he doesn’t want to interfere much in your personal space, letting you do whatever you feel like.

“Right here?”

He looks at you as he levels the shelf you bought, proceeding as he gets your approval, he cleans his palms in his shirt as he finishes installing the last one, internally wondering why you need so many shelves.

“Alright I’m taking a shower, let me know if you need anything”.

He says before leaving you to decorate the place, excited to see how it will look at the end.

Yuta

Will be the one to suggest you use the spare room in your apartment as he notices you working uncomfortably on the dinner table, sitting awkwardly as you type away on your laptop, he simply can’t have his baby in such situation! Will help you out with putting the place together and even suggesting you a few decorational itens he saw online to make the place more cozy. Will definitely spend an insane amount of money on an office chair just because it’s the “most comfortable on market”.

“Are you crazy? That’s too much Yuta, besides I only work two days a week from home”.

You scold him as soon as you see the price of the chair, watching him look unfazed as he puts it together.

“My baby deserves the best. Besides it goes well with the new pc set I bought you, the reviews online says the keyboards are really egornomical”

“You bought me a what??”

Jaehyun

He likes to have his alone times just as much, and even tough he’s always romantic and sweet to you he’s not the clingy type. I can see him using the dorms as his personal room, a place where he’ll work on his music or just unwind for a while, especially when he’s too tired or frustrated with life, not wanting it to affect you. He doesn’t oppose when you ask to use the spare room in your house as your little craft area, finding it so cute that you want a place for yourself as well.

Just like Doyoung he won’t interfere, just helping with the things you ask, but will definitely want to leave one item that will remind you of him, just in case you miss him.

“It’s just missing one final touch, darling”

He smirks, trying to contain his smile after you give him a quick tour of the room, showing the way you decorated it, you look at him confused asking what is it before he takes a small Polaroid of him blowing a kiss from his pocket, placing it on your desk.

“So you don’t miss me too much”

He winks watching you laugh in disbelief, later on, he’ll make you take one as well for his room.

Jungwoo

What do you mean you want a room just for yourself? He’ll definitely whine a little as you propose it, he thought the whole idea of moving together was to be together as much as possible! It will take some explaining and pouting from you to convince him, in the end he’ll agree with you and help you organize the place, as he tries to, not so sneakily, bring his own stuff there.

First is an extra chair in case he wants to visit, what about his music equipment? It was just laying around and won't take much space, and as soon as you realize you’re yet sharing another room with him.

“I know what you’re doing, Woo..”

You look at him seriously as he quietly installs his pc on the other side of the room.

“What? You know the wifi is better here, it’s just for when I want to play with the guys, I promise baby”

He pouts, trying to win you over this one.

Mark

He’ll gladly accept it with no complains, he also has his own room where he built a little studio to work on his music and have his alone time so he agrees right away when you vocalize the need to have a space of your own to work on your things and just have your alone time as well, but as soon as he has his days off at home he’ll get a little uneasy not seeing you so often around the house, doing nothing on the couch or doing your cutesy crafts on the dinner table.

He’ll come around here and there, bringing you water or a treat, or even just to give you a kiss and when you least expect he’s laying on the little couch next to you, watching you work as he plays random songs on his guitar.

“I thought we agreed on me having this room for just myself”

You comment after a while, your tone giving in that you weren’t even mad. More else amused to see him wanting to be there with you.

“Ah, come on babe, I’m just giving you a little ambience song, pretend I’m not even here”

Haechan

Your own room? Alone time? But he barely sees you..are you mad at him? Is he annoying you? That man is going on full whiny mode as soon as you mention it. He can’t believe his baby doesn’t want to spend all their precious time together being glued into each other.

Believe me it will take some time to convince him it’s nothing wrong with him, you just want a place to work on your hobbies in peace and have your alone times. After a while you’ll convince him, with the promise that he has a free pass to visit you whenever he’s missing you, and just like Mark he’ll make the most lame excuses to crash onto your room.

“Seriously, what do you want now, hyuck?”

You look back as you feel his presence, the boy looking at you with puppy eyes as he enters your room.

“It’s just that I think I saw a spider on our room, I’m staying here just a little bit, promise”.

You roll your eyes, not being able to contain a chuckle as he comes in, sitting next to you, snuggling onto you.

“Baby you know the wifi is soo good in here, maybe I could bring my pc and we’ll have a cute couple’s gaming room!”

#nct 127 #nct #nct imagines #nct oneshot #nct reactions #nct smut #nct au #johnny suh #taeyong #doyoung #yuta #kim jungwoo #jaehyun #mark lee #haechan

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interiorergonomics · 4 months ago

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Affordable Modern Office Furniture Online

Transforming your workspace without breaking the bank is now easier than ever with available wide range of affordable office furniture online. From bella series office furniture that categorize the minimalistic modern designs to the best selling picks that maximize your productivity, budget-friendly options are plentiful and diverse. Online retailers offer everything from minimalist designs to versatile modular setups, ensuring that you can find pieces that fit both your aesthetic preferences and functional needs. With detailed product descriptions, customer reviews, and competitive pricing, shopping for office furniture online allows you to create a stylish and efficient workspace without compromising on quality or budget.

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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Someone New 3

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: why am I so anxious all the time?

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

If Peggy’s party promised everything would change, the ‘yes’ you give to Arturo pays on that promise. Almost at once, everything is different. Your boring, orderly life is suddenly thrown into chaos. You have a hundred worries at once and not enough times; passport, visa, packing, flights. Not too mention all that you’re leaving behind; apartment, furniture, and... friends.

It’ll be good. You keep telling yourself that, just like Arturo, just like Sam. They seem more excited than you are. You struggle to see past the grief of saying goodbye to the life you built there; the life you built around Steve and false hopes. It’s foolish and naive but it still hurts.

And you’re scared. Norway. It’s far away. And you’ll be all alone. You survived college because you found Steve; you could stomach the furor of the city for Sam and Bucky, but on your own, what could you do? You’re not brave or bold or anything like that.

It doesn’t matter. You’re going to work. To forget. Focus on the dig, don’t think about everything else.

You’ve already lost so much. Steve’s busy, you are too. Maybe that’s good. You have to condition yourself for the trip. For a new life. A year is a long time. You feel like the newly graduated teen heading off to college, the one who walked into the wrong lecture hall on that fated day, the one he picked out and put firmly in her place; a friend, just a friend.

As you sort through your closet, tossing fabric into one pile or the other, your music stops playing and your phone buzzes loudly against your nightstand. You hurry to pick it up as that noise makes your neck bristle. You hate it.

You pick up without checking the display. You hope it’s the visa office. No, it’s Sam.

“Hey, chicky poo,” he chirps from the other end.

“Chicky poo?” You echo flatly.

“Hm, you’re right, I’ll keep workshopping,” he chuckles, “so you’re leaving in a week?”

“As long as my paperwork shows up,” you sighs and cross your arm over your middle. You sway as you look around at the clutter of your bedroom. “And I can get all this shit out of my place.”

“When’s your flight?” He asks pointedly. He’s not subtle. Men never are. For years, you’d hoped Steve was being subtle and look how that turned out. You know now he was so obviously not into you.

“Thursday, 5am,” you answer.

“Ah, that’s pretty early to be hungover but it will be worth it.”

“Hungover?” You wonder as you slowly sit on your bed, “why?”

“You’re leaving us so obviously, you need a final hurrah,” he insists, “I’m throwing you a going away party. Just the four of us, unless you have any plus ones?”

“Going away party?”

“Neither of the other jerks are gonna do it,” he scoffs, “nothing fancy, promise. Just some drinks.”

“What about Tuesday? Give me a day to recover?”

“Wednesday works. Steve’ll be back by then.”

“Back by then?” You must sound like a parrot.

“Oh, yeah, the lovers went up north to look at venues for the engagement party. Too bad you won’t make it. I’ll have to drink myself into a stupour all by myself,” he intones.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” you grumble and pick at a wrinkle in your pants.

“Don’t be sorry. You deserve this. I’m so fucking excited for you,” he chimes, “you have to tell me everything. I want pictures of vikings and castles and stuff. All of it.”

“Sam, I’m just going to be digging,” you mutter.

“And? You can’t just go over there an put your head down. Go sightseeing, go out on the town, have a wild one-night stand--”

“Sam,” you drone.

“You need it,” he cackles, “it’ll be a story to bring home with ya. Make us all jealous with your wild Norwegian adventure. Hey,” he pauses and sucks his teeth, “you’re like Uno reversing a whole country. Vikings used to invade others, this is your chance to go right in there and raise hell.”

“You’re stupid,” you laugh and shake your head.

“Never said otherwise.”

“Hm, fine, Wednesday,” you agree, “if I'm gonna be there, I gotta get all this shit packed.”

“Did I not say if you need anything? I can help,” he offers.

“No, no, I got it,” you say, “really, it’s not that much.”

“Right, well, I should get back to it and let you do the same,” he says in a resigned tone.

You hang up and heave. You put the phone down and drop your head into your hands. You feel like you should cry. You’ve felt that tide of tears pushing on your eyes since the party but they just won’t come. All that tension is driving you mad but you just can’t dislodge the nail driven deep into your chest.

💟

Your life is hectic but you’re not surprised Steve isn’t part of the whirlwind. Why would he be? He has so much going on. A wedding is much more important than what could possibly be the most spontaneous and naive decision of your life. Impulsive more than anything. Cowardly when you think about it. You’re running away because you can’t face the truth. Because it’s just easy to leave your emotions in New York.

Still, you thought you’d hear more than this. More than a thumbs up emoji or hearsay from Sam. Even after your conversation on the balcony and his reassurances, you still feel his discontent. Will he really miss you that much or is he just upset you won’t be there to celebrate the love of his life?

It doesn’t matter, does it?

It’s gone so fast and you hope the next year goes just as quickly. That all this passes. Not just the trip but everything else. The sadness, the pain, the fear. You try to be positive. You thought college was scary and look how that turned out.

Ugh, you’re really doing this. You're leaving is all behind. You’re leaving your friends and your family and your home. You have no one to blame but yourself. You could’ve gotten over Steve Rogers a decade ago. More than that. You couldn’t rip the band-aid off, you had to pull it slow so ever hair rends painfully from the flesh.

The GPS guides you between the shining marquee. You can see the pulsing dot of your destination on the screen. You don’t drive towards it, instead hunting for a parking spot among the cramped lots and lined curbs. You should’ve taken a cab but you’re only having one drink and you’re saving for the inevitable expense of hurling yourself halfway across the world.

You get out and grab your phone, your purse hooked over your elbow. You raise the small screen and get your bearings, squinting as you set yourself in the right direction. Just across and at the end.

As you approach the bar, you stop short. This isn’t exactly the flavour. Well, not for them. You peer up at the neon light in the shape of a martini, a bright pink beacon, under which a large group of women cluster. Whoops and hollers go up as they enter and leave you standing out in the technicolour-tinted night. Did you get the address wrong?

You check your messages with Sam. No, it’s correct. Strange. Maybe he didn’t know.

You pull open the violet-shaded glass door and peer around as you step out of the way of the patrons behind you. You text Sam to check if he’s there already. You can’t seem to keep up with the clock hands these days.

As you wait for a response, you glance around. It’s like a Sex and the City reenactment. The guys always teased you for your rants about Carrie Bradshaw’s selfishness. They weren’t much for the genre. With them, it’s sports bars and beers and what ball game is in season. They never notice your cute new earrings or your efforts to spruce up your work clothes with a flashy belt.

‘Here. You’re looking cute.’ Sam’s response comes.

You narrow your eyes and stand on your toes to look around. He’s sitting at a tall table with Bucky, the two of them looking out of place before the feathered centerpiece and glitzy wall art of high heels. You can’t help a grin. This is absolutely ridiculous.

You weave through the tables and bodies, past the bar of gabbing girl groups and a few men mixed in. You near your friends and claim one of the tall stools around the round table. You use the bottom bar to haul yourself up onto the seat and hang your purse from your knee.

“Hey, this place is... sparkly,” you look around with a dumb smile. You can’t help it! You never get a girls’ night.

“It is,” Bucky agrees in a grit.

You stop short. You look at him then at Sam. You didn’t notice before. They’re wearing bows on their heads. Sam has a head band with a gregariously big pink ribbon, whereas Bucky has a glittering purple bow pinned into his thick locks. You laugh and smother it behind your hands.

“What is this?” You snicker.

“We are your ladies tonight!” Sam announces and shifts to stand, bending under the table, “and you get to be queen bee!” He reaches to the floor and you lean to see the huge tote underneath, “here is your tiara!”

He pulls out the plastic tiara with fake pink gems and white feathers. You giggle again as he places it on your head. This is too much.

“Sam! How—this is so stupid. You didn’t have to do all this.”

“What? It’s about time. Don’t worry about us. It’s all about you,” he snaps his finger and points at you, “we’re going to order girly cocktails and dish on the cute dudes.”

Bucky shakes his head as he fixes the bow in his hair, “I wanted a flower.”

You bring your hands down to your next and wiggle on the seat giddily. This is amazing. Your eyes sting and your throat locks up. You’re going to miss these idiots.

“You guys,” you breathe.

“No crying!” Sam claps his hand, “I already got this guy moping around.”

“I’m not moping,” Bucky sniffs.

“We have to decide who’s who. I know you hate Carrie so we’ll save that for Steve. He is the stuck up blond, after all,” Sam smirks, “I’m definitely Samantha, it’s already in my name. And you,” he points at you, “Miranda. The level-headed one who has to put up with our BS. That means Bucky--”

“Charlotte?” Bucky frowns, “can’t I be Stanford?”

You nearly gasp, “Bucky, are you a stan?”

“I’ve seen some episodes,” he shrugs.

“Well, that’s decided,” Sam checks his watch, “where’s that bozo?”

You frown and look around. You look at your phone. You were just on the cusp but Steve is late. Bucky takes out his cell too and all three of you scroll through your screens.

“Whatever, we don’t have to wait for him, drinks,” Sam blacks the screen and sets down his phone. He reaches for the pink pleather drink menu, “I was looking at the Paradise Punch. Sounds interesting.”

“Mm, I’m just having one,” you state, “I gotta drive home.”

“Pfft, don’t worry about it. You can get your car tomorrow.”

“Sam, I leave at five in the morning.”

“Fine, I’ll take care of the car. You’re storing it, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t expect--”

“Tonight is going to be fun. No arguing,” he points a long finger at you.

The phone jitters and his phone lights up. He picks it up as your cell remains lifeless in a rare moment of peace, though it’s fraught nonetheless. You peek over at the empty fourth stool.

“He’s not coming,” you utter.

Sam huffs and puts his phone down, “he’s not. Peggy has a work dinner and he’s invited.”

“Oh,” you nod and try not to deflate entirely, “that’s... that’s fine. He said he’d come to the airport but I wasn’t counting on that either.”

“Asshole,” Sam sneers.

“Hey, no,” you shake your head, “he’s busy. He has a wedding and all that--”

“You’re going away,” Bucky surprises you with the emotion in his tone, “and he can’t be here.”

“Really, it’s not--”

“It is,” Sam insists. “How long are you gonna let him walk all over you? Isn’t that why you’re leaving?”

“It’s work, it’s nothing to do with Steve.”

“Sure,” Sam accepts hotly, “keep telling yourself that.” He cringes and swallows, “tonight isn’t about him. For once. It’s about you. Us. Having fun. Saying goodbye. It’s gonna be terrible without you. I hope you know that.”

You could laugh at his rebuke. The conflict between celebratory and reproachful is amusing. You exhale and put your hands up.

“Alright, I got it.”

“Buck,” he gestures to the other man, “go.”

You turn to the Bucky and he slides off his stool. He reaches down under the table and brings up a gift bag. Your mouth falls open. Your chest tweaks, a mixture of glee and guilt. You’re happy to have friends with them but you feel so bad for not seeing it earlier. For being so tunnel-visioned that you couldn’t appreciate them fully.

“This is so—you didn’t have to,” you say.

“We did. Obviously,” Sam scoffs, “don’t worry, my gift is the grand finale.”

“Right,” you smile and accept the bag from Bucky. You push through the tissue paper and pull out the heavy shape inside. You reveal it and just as quickly hide it back in the polka dot bag, “Bucky!”

You let go of the taser and retract your hand. Sam guffaws and Bucky gives a confused grimace, “you need it.”

“What?” You hiss.

“You’re going to be all alone over there. You should be safe.”

“I... appreciate the thought but it’s a bit extreme.”

“He’s right,” Sam adds, “you know, going to the land of the vikings, you can never be too safe. I’ve heard they like to carry women off in their boats.”

“You two,” you roll your eyes.

“My turn,” Sam says, “you’ll love this.”

He once more searches under the table and the tote crinkle. He pulls out an envelope and you tilt your head. Really?

“Money?” You wonder.

“What am I? Your grandma?” He snorts, “here.”

You take the envelope and turn it over. You pull the flap open and reveal a pamphlet within, along with a second slip of paper. A reservation...

“I found this place over there. It’s at some coastal castle, there’s a spa and all that. They do like ancient types of treatments, hot rocks or whatever,” he explains, “I made sure you can adjust the dates too if you need. You just have to call.”

“Wow, that’s... Sam, I’m going to be so busy--”

“I told you not to work yourself too hard. That’s a good excuse for you to get your head out of the dirt. Literally. Just think of me when you’re in a mud bath with a glass of champagne.”

You put the envelope next to the gift bag and drop off the stool. You open your arms to them. Sam is up first and Bucky drags himself to his feet. You wrap them in a hug and they do the same in turn. It must be an absolutely ridiculous sight but you don’t care. You tuck your head against Sam’s arm and feel a rumble in Bucky’s chest.

“Sam, that’s my ass,” Bucky snarls.

“I was just making sure you didn’t forget your wallet,” Sam chuckles.

“You’re a moron,” Bucky pulls away and shoves him.

“Peas in a pod, bud,” Sam lets you go as the hug breaks up, “now, I need a drink and you...” he points in your direction, “need a double.”

#steve rogers #thor #thor x reader #steve rogers x reader #someone new #series #au #fic #grayish fic #angst fic #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america

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quirrrky · 1 year ago

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—.: ･ﾟ✦ MUTUAL CRUSH

IWAIZUMI, AKAASHI, KUROO

≡ NOTES ⋮ iwa-chan just omyghad! and akaashi you! OFC, kuroo my love, my hope, my ultimate fantasy (can't believe I'm fangirling over my work)

IWAIZUMI

Who would appear so good-looking just throwing the trash out? Of course, it’s your neighbor, and you couldn't believe the man would come knocking at your door, offering to take out the trash for you.

Iwaizumi would always extend his help in fixing things around your home. You needed to replace the light bulb, he’s one doorbell away. You thought Iwaizumi was simply being kind and you’re blessed to have him around. From repainting your room to moving your furniture around he was there and he’s the one you called. Mainly, because you also wanted to see him, kind of to get close to him.

It was all just a harmless crush until you called him instead of a plumber.

His top got drenched from the faulty water works, so he removed his shirt revealing his well-sculpted body. You gulped, throat drying up at the sight of him turning something with a wrench, his biceps bulging as he did so.

He raked a hand through his hair, and you sure felt the air got stuck in your chest. He was so strong and manly. Swoon-worthy. Totally not the prince charming type. A little rough around the edges, but he’s perfect and he’s making you feel things you never had before.

Meanwhile, Hajime never felt bothered by a lot of things, until he moved in next to you. He couldn’t help but find you beautiful the moment he laid eyes on you along the hallway. Not to mention, you would wait for him in the elevator and would give him a little something from the grocery store. That’s why he decided to be your go-to guy, of course it’s not because he wanted to impress you or something. Really though he wanted to impress you, pfft.

“Fixed,” he stood up, and you were just there...speechless, until you regained awareness.

“Thank you,” you said and extended a towel to him. “Here, use this so you can dry yourself up.”

He patted the towel along his body, and his eyes never leaving yours. You just watched in awe still trying to remain composed.

“I’ll just return this to you after laundry,” he informed while slinging the towel over his shoulder. How could a simple act make you feel a little crazy?

“Y-Yes...” You were almost speechless, and he was quite hesitant to leave either.

“See you,” he bade as he went past your front door.

“See you,” you said in response as he closed the door.

Gosh, you should’ve coked for him as a way of thanking him for everything. You couldn’t believe you let the chance to spend more time with him slip away.

You sighed when you heard your doorbell ring. Opening the door, you were surprised to find Iwaizumi outside.

“Are you free tonight?” He asked and you blinked in disbelief. “Can you join me for dinner?”

AKAASHI

It all started one morning when he dropped by the coffee shop near his office and you’re the one who handed him his drink.

“I haven’t seen you here before,” Akaashi said with bewildered eyes. His hand over yours around the cup not moving.

You blushed equally finding the man in front of you attractive. “I just started today.”’

And what started that day was not only your part-time job, but also the unspoken attraction between you and your favorite customer.

Keiji would always sit on the lounge chair facing the counter. He normally worked at the office, but now he had a new place to get things accomplished. Whenever he’s strained from reviewing different materials, one glance at you and every bit of stress just fades away. He’d sneak a glance at you through the brim of his cup as he sipped. Sometimes he’d subtly chuckle whenever you’d do something clumsy.

You, on the other hand, would casually look his way whenever there’s no new customer around. Oh, how you resisted the urge to offer him something just so you could talk to him.

You both needed divine intervention until that day came. It was when he looked out of his element. He still managed to smile at you though, but worry was evident in his tired eyes, so you braved up and wrote a note on his cup.

He took his drink as usual and only noticed your note once he settled in his seat.

A beautiful smile would make a beautiful day.

A smile spread across his face. He looked at you and you exchanged shy and knowing gazes. Now, he was thinking of a way to return the favor. Knowing that you were the one who always bussed out his table, he left a table napkin with a hand-written note.

Proof that a beautiful smile could make someone’s day even better.

You thought he was not able to see your smile when you saw the note he left, but you didn’t know that he waited for you from across the street. He smirked in success as soon as he saw you giggling to yourself.

It went on for weeks that it became a routine—no, it became something that you both looked forward to everyday, until Keiji showed up at the coffeeshop, but you weren’t the one attending him.

Maybe you were absent for that day, but it persisted for the following days. It’s silly but Keiji felt a weird kind of panic. What if he won’t see you again? Maybe he should have gotten your number earlier on or befriended you than exchanged silly notes through paper cups and table napkins.

He exhaled in exasperation. The chimes to the shop’s clank, which made him look and he was beyond relieved to see you.

You were in casual clothes and didn’t seem to be working for the day. You held each other’s gazes as if you were both about to say something but didn’t know what it was.

“Y/N, what brings you here?” Your colleague asked. “Have you left something?”

Your eyes never left Keiji’s as you replied, “Yes, I think I might have.” To be honest, your contract was done. It was just a temporary stint after all, but something inside you was nagging you to come back. “Sir,” you greeted the bespectacled man in front of you.

“Keiji, it’s Keiji,” he said.

You smiled, pointing to his drink. “Did they get it right? You want yours with cinnamon.”

“No, I...” Keiji smiled and shyly rubbed the back of his neck. “I actually want mine made by you.”

Your cheeks heat up not expecting to hear that from him. He always seemed like a shy type, you thought, but Keiji won’t let this chance slip away.

“Do you...Do you want anything to drink?” He asked and offered, “It’s on me.”

You bashfully smiled. Finally, that day, you two shared more than just notes from cups and table napkins.

KUROO

Your work life was basically as plain as it could get. Boring same-same eight-to-five thing. You’re basically praying for something magical to happen for once until that very wish was granted.

Once upon a time, when you were about to go up to your floor, the elevator almost closed in on you. When it reopened again, you were met with the sight of a tall and handsome man looking dapper in a suit. You never believed that time could stop even in a snap, but it did at that moment, and you were looking at each other with such bewilderment.

You controlled not grinning from ear to ear. You got off before him and you wished you could’ve seen his name on his ID before you left. Maybe you’d see him again. Hopefully, you could.

Maybe it wasn’t the first time you’d seen each other or came across one another, but there’s something about that day that changed everything. Ever since that chance encounter, you would frequently ride the same elevator.

You would take note of the different patterns of his necktie and the way his suit sets always looked good on him. Add to that, the divine way his perfume complemented his get-up.

Meanwhile, Kuroo was so lucky he always got to enter first and he could watch you right in front of him, catching a glance of the cute little expression you had before entering the elevator. He couldn’t help but take note of the sweet scent you gave of. Was it your perfume or your shampoo?

You gave him something to look forward to at work every day and he gave you something to feed your imagination.

Elevator hottie as you nicknamed him not knowing that he tagged you as Elevator cutie too.

It almost became a silent agreement between the two of you. Kuroo would always wear that confident smirk and you would bite your cheek attempting not to grin. You didn’t see each other everyday, but you both treasured the opportunity once it was there.

It went on for a few months now, and the moments you were shoulder to shoulder against each other were the only chance you could get to be closer. You were a little shy and Kuroo couldn’t get a good chance to start a conversation with all the other passengers around, until that one day.

You got off the elevator while placing your phone inside your bag not noticing that it didn’t slip inside. You walked unaware of what happened.

”Y/N!”

Someone called out to you, and you turned towards the direction of your name. You were surprised to see that it was him.

“Your phone,” he said, giving you the gadget.

“Oh my god! Thank you! Thank you so much.” You told him and finally placed your phone inside your bag. Wondering how he knew your name, you asked, “Wait...how did you-”

Coyly biting his lip, he chuckled, “Your ID.”

Your eyes widened in a delightful surprise.

He reached out his hand, “I'm Kuroo. Kuroo Tetsurou, by the way.”

#iwaizumi x reader #akaashi x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #kuroo scenarios #iwaizumi scenarios #akaashi scenarios #kuroo drabble #iwaizumi drabble #akaashi drabble #kuroo fluff #iwaizumi fluff #akaashi fluff

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pedropascallme · 11 months ago

Note

Your fics about professor Damien were sooooo hot!! I'm def gonna need more of him. Can you imagine how hot it would be for him to come home and let off some steam on the reader bc he's had a hard day either teaching or at work at Smosh 🤭

Take Me Home

Pairing: professor!Damien x f!Reader

Summary: "His house was as you’d expected it to be—like his office, but bigger; dark wooden furniture and books stacked high. It was cozy, warm, and it smelled like him. You liked seeing him in his office, but you decided as soon as you crossed the threshold that this setting suited him much more. He seemed more relaxed, more at—well, more at home."

Warnings: SMUT (18+ MINORS DNI) implied age gap (Damien is his actual current age, reader is 20-22), student/teacher relationship, mild dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), biting, praise, dirty talk, spanking (blink and you'll miss it), Damien is a thigh man don't even try to deny it, uuuuh Dames bein' a big ol' softy. If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: I...I write porn. But even I surprise myself, sometimes. Sorry that this took so long!! Can be read as a follow up to Office Hours or as a stand alone!!

You were already in his office when he came in. He looked flustered, the round of his cheeks somewhat rosy, with his jacket over his arm, bag in hand, glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose.

“Professor,” you walked around the front of his desk, waiting for him to close the door before you wrapped your arms around his neck, “how was class?”

Dr. Haas dropped his jacket and bag where he stood, quick to bring his arms around you and pull you flush against him. “I’m so tired.” He mumbled into the exposed skin of your neck, and you combed your fingers through his hair.

“Long day?”

“They get longer and longer the closer I get to my review.” He squeezed your sides gently and you smiled softly at nothing before he raised his head to kiss your cheek. “I haven’t been this stressed since I gave my dissertation.”

“Who would’ve thought a professor would be more burnt out than his students?” You teased, and it landed harshly against him. He cringed.

“Is it noticeable?”

“Hm?”

“Am I…am I losing my charm?” He kept his question lighthearted, but you could see the anxiety rise in his face.

“You always do it for me.”

“No—well, good, but—” he stuttered, amused, “but, I mean, do you think it shows in my teaching? That I’m a nervous wreck?”

“No,” you put some distance between your bodies, unwinding your arms from around him to undo his tie, “I think you continue to prove yourself day in and day out.”

He leaned into your touch, letting you slide his tie off of his neck before he grabbed at your wrists with both hands. “Not now.”

“Why not?” You felt a bit wounded, not used to rejection on his part—or on yours. You were insatiable for each other, had been since you first started this secret rendezvous. You tried to hide your disappointment, focusing on the feel of his thumb as it stroked over the back of your hand.

“Don’t gimme that look, c’mon,” he released your hands and placed his own on your waist, “I meant not here. Not not at all.” You straightened, meeting his gaze, and you could tell his words were as shocking to him as they were to you.

“Are you inviting me home, sir?” You purred, your confidence returning in large waves now as you found yourself fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“Would you like to come home with me, baby?” His demeanor changed into the one you were more used to; no longer the downcast, stressed-out man who had walked into his office after a long day, but the clever, smooth talking one who had you begging and drooling over his desk not even two full days ago.

“If you’ll have me.”

~~~

His house was as you’d expected it to be—like his office, but bigger; dark wooden furniture and books stacked high. It was cozy, welcoming, and it smelled like him. You liked seeing him in his office, but you decided as soon as he opened the door that this setting suited him much more. He seemed more relaxed, more…well, more at home.

“I’m sorry it’s so messy.” He shrugged off his jacket while you took in the new surroundings.

“You should see my place,” you joked back, “less books, but much messier than this.” You smiled at each other, “You’ll see it sometime.”

“I hope to.” He reached into the front hall closet for a hanger to place his coat on before closing it and finding his place next to you in the living room. “Um—this isn’t…I hope this isn’t too much.”

It took you by surprise; not the anxious questioning of your boundaries, but the fact that he would think this was overwhelming to you somehow—and maybe it was, a little, but definitely not in any negative way. “It's not,” you brushed your fingers over his cheek, “I like this.” You pushed his bangs out of his face, and he closed his eyes. “I like you, Professor.”

“I like you, too.” He breathed, and when he opened his eyes, you were already smiling at him. He returned the gesture, and his hands once again found your waist. “You could call me Damien, you know.”

“I’ll think about it.” You teased, then looked up at him, waiting for him to continue his train of thought.

“I guess I just—I don’t know, really. I feel bad that I’ve been so swamped, and then this fucking tenure thing…I don’t want you to think I’m losing interest, or anything.”

You took a step closer toward him, both hands holding the collar of his shirt. “You don’t have to be sorry,” you mumbled, your eyes now focused on how he nervously bit his bottom lip, “I’m sorry it’s making you so nervous.”

“You make me nervous,” he laughed, “too perfect for my own good. The review I can handle. You, on the other hand—” he picked you up in a fluid motion, holding you bridal style in the middle of the living room, “Smart girl, teasing me in class when you know I’ve got so much on my plate.”

You laughed, throwing your head back and giving him ample space to trail kisses over your neck. “Not my fault that you make it so easy, Professor. Maybe you should just stop calling on me.” You giggled at the way his stubble dragged across the ticklish spots on your neck.

“Nope,” he pulled himself up from the crook of your neck, looking down at you, “I like seeing you act so confident when you know exactly what’s coming once I get you alone.”

Your fingers traced his collar bone, “Is that why you wanted to take me home?” You dipped your hand under the unbuttoned portion of his shirt, enjoying the warmth he radiated. “Wanted to really give it to me?” You grinned up at him, and watched him try to suppress a groan.

“You’re playing a dangerous game, you know that?” His voice was low and came out almost a whisper.

“I’d like to keep playing it, too,” you mused, flashing him a face of faux innocence, “Will you show me the bedroom, Professor?”

Dr. Haas let out an amused huff, before walking you towards the back of the house and into his bedroom. He dropped you on the black comforter of his bed, and you laughed, bouncing slightly on impact.

“It’s comfy,” You spread your arms out over your head and let yourself relish the feeling of the soft linens. “I wouldn’t mind sleeping on this every night,” the words came out before you could consider the implication, but he didn’t seem to mind.

“I wouldn’t mind you sleeping on it every night, either,” He smiled, leaning over you, and undoing the clasp of your pants. You squirmed, moving your hips up to allow him to peel the denim off your legs. He threw your jeans on a chair in the corner, kissing the inside of your thighs and sucking small purple bruises into the flesh. “Should’ve taken you home sooner,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You let out a contented yelp when he sunk his teeth into your upper thigh, so close to where you needed him most. “You like that?” He smiled, and did it again, drawing the same response for you, your hand tangling in his hair and tugging softly.

“Please, sir,” whines fell from your mouth despite the fact that he had yet to really, truly touch you the way you needed him to. You hoped your pleas would urge him to give you what you wanted.

“Mm,” He hummed, and you felt the vibrations through the mattress, “You’ve been disruptive, and I’ve been stressed,” another nip at your thigh made you tighten your grip on his hair, “Don’t you think it’s time I had my way, baby?”

You moaned, leaning your head back against the mattress and letting him continue his ministrations. You liked him like this; needy but domineering—it was the perfect balance. He worshipped you, took his time and made sure you got everything you wanted while keeping you in your place and ensuring you stayed obedient.

You loved it. And he knew that.

He spent what felt like hours kneading at your thighs, peppering kisses and sucking dark purple spots over them, giving you a soft smack when you tried to get him to focus his attention elsewhere. You finally felt his hands trail up your waist, his fingers hooking the waistband of your panties.

“Finally being patient for me,” he spoke, pulling down the fabric separating him from your heat and watching himself slide it down your legs. You felt cold air against your core, your slick clinging to your thighs, and you heard him let out a filthy sound at the mere sight of it. “See what it gets you?”

You mumbled a quiet affirmative before he dove into you, lapping at the mess he’d had you create and groaning into you at the taste; you arched your back, finally satisfied after waiting so long—like an itch finally being scratched, but oh, so much better. With one arm at his side supporting his weight, he brought a hand to your mouth, and you opened for him without hesitation, sucking gently on his fingers and coating them in your spit. He let you continue for a while before taking them out of your mouth and bringing them down to your clit, rubbing gentle circles on the swollen bud. You let out a high-pitched moan, hand coming down to grip at his wrist, and he removed his fingers from you.

You squirmed, wiggling your hips in an attempt to get him to return to you. “No, don't—more, please. Need more, sir.”

“Then keep your hands to yourself.” His voice was darker than you’d ever heard it before, and you realized then that this was his stress relief—and it filled you with pride, that the way he blew off steam was worshipping at the shrine of you, taking his time to watch you unravel and making you go completely stupid for him. You did as you were told, folding your arms over your stomach, and watching as he spit on your clit. He rubbed the moisture of his saliva into your skin, then began tracing his fingers around your entrance. You mewled, lifting your hips in the hopes that he would do what he was threatening to, and you found yourself well-pleased when you felt two of his thick fingers plunge into you. You moaned, unable to help the way you began to rock your hips against the digits.

“Eager,” he mocked you, pushing his fingers in deeper and brushing your most sensitive spot. You gasped and continued to push your hips against is hand, stopping only when you felt his lips wrap around your clit, his tongue flicking against it in rhythm with the fingers he had moving in and out of you.

“Oh, fuck, like that!” You disregarded his earlier rule and let your hands wander, one finding the peak of your hardened nipple and the other fisting his hair, urging him to continue, to let you see the finish line. He moaned against you, and the vibrations against your clit combined with the tips of his fingers pressing against your g-spot made you yell out. Your thighs clamped around his head, and he moaned into you again, bringing you rapidly to your climax.

He reached under your leg, pulling it the opposite direction from him to give him room to breathe. “That’s it,” he kept his fingers deep inside you, letting them continue, despite their stillness, to bump the spongey erogenous area with every one of your blissed-out tremors. “So pretty, all on display for me like this.” He pulled his fingers out, kissing your entrance sloppily and letting your slick coat the bottom half of his face.

“For you,” you managed to whisper, and he pulled himself up to your level on the mattress. His lips landed on yours; a slow, gentle kiss balanced out the absolute filth he had been whispering to you and the indelicate way he had handled you.

“That’s right.” He broke from you, leaving you nose to nose. “Feel good?”

“Mhm.” You smiled, puckering your lips to get him to kiss you again, and he did, happily.

“Too tired for more?”

“Never.” Your limbs felt simultaneously light and heavy, but you wouldn’t skip out on an opportunity to have all of him in a real bed rather than the wooden desk in his office. He rolled over with you in his arms, letting you lie on top of him. You sat up, straddling him, to take off your shirt, and he felt almost embarrassed for how he ogled you. Even after several weeks of having you like this, he couldn’t get used to how beautiful you were—especially now, in his bed, without having to care about who might hear on the other side of a thin office door.

You removed yourself from his lap, scooching down to rest between his legs, feeling that it was only fair that you return the favor of the bliss he had just offered you. You got as far as unbuttoning his pants before he interrupted.

“Don’t have to, baby.”

“Want to,” you responded, now undoing his zipper.

“But I w—Jesus Christ,” his attempt at chivalrous dissent was cut short when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock, his arm falling over his eyes when you took the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue in quick circles.

You bobbed up and down, eager to show him how grateful you were for the pleasure he had just provided you—how grateful you were to be the one here with him. Your hand came to rest on his stomach; fingers ever so slightly curled against the fabric of the shirt he still wore, rising slowly with his breathing, proud when you pulled a whine from him as your other hand reached lower to squeeze gently at his balls and you were able to properly fit him down your throat, gagging only slightly at the pressure you felt because of it.

When you came up for air, hazy with lust and drooling, he reached out to cup your cheek. “Pretty girl,” he analyzed your features; your swollen lips, your teary eyes, the sweaty hair matted to your forehead. It was the perfect respite after the week he’d had. “Come.” He patted his thigh lazily, and you clambered to straddle him once again. You dragged yourself over his length, now messy with your spit mingling with the wet between your legs, and you let out a whimper when you felt the warmth of him so close to where you wanted it. You rocked your hips steadily over him, leaning forward with your hands on his chest, undoing another button, and Dr. Haas grinned at you.

“Good girl,” his hands moved to your waist, guiding you over him. “Think you can take it like this?” He was goading you, knowing that you wanted nothing more than to feel the stretch of him inside of you while you rode him; the feeling of being slightly in control countered by the fact that he remained clothed and got to admire your naked form fucking yourself on his cock.

“Please,” you stared down at him, and he raised an eyebrow, waiting. “Please, sir.” You smiled, a devious look of desire, and lifted your hips off of him just enough for you to reach down and take him in your hand. You guided yourself over him, letting the tip nudge your folds before you began to sink down. You let out a hiss in unison with him as you rolled your hips, encouraging him to push deeper, and when he bottomed out you stayed still for a moment, both looking at each other and breathing heavily.

His hands brushed over your sides, up and down; he would near your breasts enough to feel the swell of them against his thumb before his palms slid back down against your hips. The soothing motion motivated you to move slowly, hips swaying back and forth over him, and you moaned when you felt him finally palm at your chest; gentle squeezes of the soft flesh followed by harder pinches of your nipple, rolling the pearled bud between his thumb and forefinger while he watched you on top of him. You used one hand to keep your hair out of your face, the other falling over the back of his hand as he squeezed your breast.

You grew impatient with your own slow ministrations. Moving your knees up to cage his broad chest, you allowed yourself the space to bounce up and down more freely, and the improvement of the angle was apparent to both of you: you watched his head fall back, hooded eyes watching you take him, in and out, his mouth open, and he was the perfect audience for the soft moans leaving your throat. Your hands were still pressed firmly on his chest, and the more you moved, the stronger the burn in your legs. You felt him wrap an arm around you, a silent reassurance that you were ok to let him take over, and you let him pull you against him, his hips snapping up into you, replacing your movements.

“That’s it,” he growled against your temple, his body pushing your own up with every thrust, and you clung to him to ground yourself from the overwhelming pleasure. “So good, baby. Just need me to do it for you?”

You made a sound that was meant to be a flirty, snide retort, but it came out as more of a mangled cry of fulfillment when you felt his hands squeezing the curve of your ass, guiding you in time with his thrusts.

“I know,” he purred, watching you come undone for him. He sped up for a moment, before slowing to a torturously unhurried pace; he repeated this change several times, getting as much pleasure from it as he did from the way he could feel you go slack jawed on his chest, the drool that trailed from your mouth saturating the shoulder of his shirt in combination with his sweat. “Want you to cum again, baby.” He whispered, rolling his hips and pushing you down against him to ensure you took everything he gave you.

You let out a string of pitiful moans—yes, sir! Want to cum for you, sir! Please!—when he finally picked a consistent pace to fuck you; he was fast, now, and determined to watch you cum like this, riding him in the comfort of a bed instead of bending you over a desk or a chair. He wanted to see how pretty you looked when you were comfortable, uninhibited.

You pushed yourself up, wiping your spit from your cheek, completely lost in the way he was making you feel. You moved with him, hips bouncing against him as best you could manage while he pounded into you, and you could feel your eyes roll back at the intensity that was being so full of him. Your walls clenched around his cock, nearing your high, and he noticed, taking it as a sign to use you to the fullest extent—make you feel better than you ever had. His hand found its way between your bodies, careful not to disturb the rhythm of his thrusts, and began massaging your clit. You felt electric, like small jolts were passing through your body by way of him, and you couldn’t stop yourself from getting fucked like this if you tried.

The head of his cock pushed deeper, and, combined with the circles he drew on your clit, the feeling made you collapse onto him, cunt squeezing around him, body shaking with delight, and admiration for the man fucking you stupid. You screamed out, unafraid to make it known how much you enjoyed the way he had gotten you to cum now that you knew nobody else was around to question your cries of pleasure.

“Fu—ck! Yes, yesyesyes—Oh my god, Damien!” You came around him; and maybe it was because of the new position, or the new setting, or the fact that you genuinely had never found sex this enjoyable until he came along, but it felt earth-shatteringly wonderful. So good, so distracting, that you almost didn’t notice the sudden darkness of his eyes and the gravel in his voice.

“Say it again,” he breathed, low and urgent, “say my fucking name like that.” You heard him through your daze, and heeded his request, his name falling from your lips as if it was second nature. You were suddenly on your back, watching him push your legs into your chest while he pushed himself into you again and again, watching you bounce between him and the mattress. He was absolutely wild—all for you, for the way you acted, for the way you treated him, it was for you. And you delighted in the way he wrecked you, watching his hair fall into his eyes and his breathing become heavier.

“Cum in me.” You gripped his forearm while he continued to thrust into your sensitive cunt, feeling the way his muscles tensed when he tightened his grip on you. You watched him throw his head back at your words.

“Can’t—can’t fucking say that, baby, please—” He pleaded, unsure of whether or not you were genuine or just throwing caution to the wind in the throes of passion.

“Pill,” you managed to get out, his movements knocking the wind out of you, “Please, Damien.” His head fell forward, mouth open in focus before he bit his bottom lip and groaned, experiencing not only the delectation of his high, but the perfection of experiencing it while still inside your warmth, releasing any pent-up energy and stress along with his climax. He moaned out your name, along with various profanities, and calls of good girl and fucking perfect.

He stayed above you, panting, before slowly sliding out of you, and you whined at the sudden empty feeling. He fell onto the mattress, quickly moving to engulf you in his arms and scatter kisses across your face. You let out a tired hum, and then a small laugh when he repeatedly kissed your nose.

“So perfect,” he whispered, “So, so good. So perfect for me.” He whispered praises into the crown of your head, letting you melt into him while he ran his fingers up and down your back.

“If this is what happens when you get stressed,” you mumbled against him, and he maneuvered himself to look down at you, “maybe you should go up for tenure review more often.” You smiled lazily up at him, and he grinned.

“God, I hope not,” he ran a hand through his hair, “but I promise this isn’t a one-off. Keep talking back to me in class, you’ll see.” You hummed against him happily, tired and completely fucked out.

“I like the name Damien,” your fingers traced shapes on the bare skin of his chest peeking out between the undone buttons, “Suits you.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

“I like you.”

“I like you.” He echoed, and you looked up at him to find that his gaze was already on you. He leaned down to kiss you, a simple peck, but it felt so personal, despite its chaste nature, after what you’d just done.

There was a long, drawn out, comfortable silence, where you were able to just enjoy each other’s presence without having to rush to get dressed or get to class. Damien cleared his throat.

“So, um—” he sat up, “now that…do you—will you stay for dinner?” He beamed at you, “Please?” You laughed, pushing him down against the pillows, and he grabbed you to pull you down with him.

“Yeah,” you rested your forehead against his, “Yeah, I think I will.”

#damien haas #damien haas fanfiction #damien haas smut #damien haas x reader #damien haas x you #smosh #smosh fanfiction #smosh fic #smosh smut #smoshblr #smosh games #smosh squad #smosh pit

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spectersgirl · 1 year ago

Text

Taking Care of You (Life’s Like This p.2)

Harvey Specter x Reader

The original request prompt was “Harvey specter takes care of his pregnant wife” and this is part two!

————

Harvey paced restlessly inside his office, his worry evident. You’d had a rough time with morning sickness throughout your whole pregnancy, but from what he had seen, today was particularly bad. He’d watched you run back and forth to and from the bathroom all morning. He knew you’d feel much better if you’d let him take you home, but he also knew you well enough to know that you’d worry about your workload the whole time if he didn’t take over some of it.

As you hunched over your desk, battling nausea, the door opened, and Harvey stepped in silently. He moved to your side, rubbing your back as you leaned into him, feeling completely drained. He hated seeing you like this.

"Hey, you okay?" Harvey's concern was palpable.

You managed a weak smile. "Just another rough morning, Harvey. I’ll be fine.”

The look on your face was enough for Harvey to make his decision. With a firm nod, he guided you out of the chair, supporting you as you stood. "Nope. Let's get you home."

“Harvey, I have work to do.”

He shook his head at your protest.

“And you won’t get anything done anyway if you keep having to run to the bathroom to get sick.”

You sighed, knowing he was right.

Back at home, Harvey took charge, settling you on the couch with pillows and a blanket. He disappeared into the kitchen, reappearing with ginger tea and saltines, the only thing you could keep down on days like this.

"Here, baby. This should help." he assured you, kneeling beside you, holding the cup as you sipped slowly.

"But your case..." you worried.

"I've got Mike on it, he can handle it." Harvey reassured you. "Right now, my only case is taking care of you."

He stayed by your side, tending to your needs while you dozed off, the stress of your pregnancy visible on your exhausted face. As you slept, Harvey worked quietly, taking calls, reviewing documents, anything he could do for your cases so you didn’t get behind.

You woke a little while later, still nauseous but eager to at least read over the documents you’d taken home with you in preparation for the next day.

"You should be resting" Harvey insisted.

"I have work to finish," you protested weakly.

Harvey shook his head. "I've got it. Your health and our baby come first."

With a loving smile, you relented, allowing yourself to relax while Harvey took care of some of your workload.

Weeks passed, you had good days and bad, and Harvey was so patient with you through it. From late-night cravings to sudden emotional outbursts, he took each moment in stride, his only focus and priority being taking care of you.

One evening, you found Harvey sitting in the nursery, surrounded by baby clothes and toys. His expression was a mix of determination and tenderness as he carefully organized everything into the various pieces of furniture he’d put together.

"You don't have to do all this alone, you know," you said softly, watching him.

He looked up to you, a smile tugging at his lips. "I want to. It's for both of you."

You walked further into the room, sitting in the rocking chair and cradling your bump.

“You’re gonna be such a good dad.” You said with a soft smile.

“You think so?”

“I know so. You’re already the best husband to me, I know when the baby comes you’re going to be amazing.”

As the months passed, you both attended doctor's appointments, marveling at the ultrasound screen as you watched the baby moving around. Harvey held your hand tightly during these moments, his eyes gleaming with pride and love.

The bond between you and Harvey grew stronger as time went on, which was something you didn’t even think was possible. You’d spent hours discussing names with him, imagining what the baby was going to be like, debating whether it was a boy or a girl since you’d opted to keep it a surprise. Together, you picked out a few gender neutral names, opting to choose one once you had the baby.

You couldn't have asked for a better partner than Harvey, who seamlessly balanced his career and the difficult task of caring for you. As your due date approached, his dedication for you and the baby only intensified. He was constantly on standby, making sure you always had everything you needed.

When the day finally came that you were in labor, he never left your side. Calm and encouraging, he held your hand through every painful contraction and allowed you to squeeze as hard as you needed to as you pushed.

The first cries of your baby sounded throughout the room, and the look of pride and love on Harvey’s face was one you wanted to remember forever.

“Congratulations mom and dad, you have a beautiful, healthy baby girl!” The nurse exclaimed.

You looked up at Harvey with wide eyes and a huge grin.

“You were right, we have a baby girl!” You said excitedly. You had thought it was a boy the whole time, while Harvey was firmly team girl.

As you held the tiny new addition in your arms, watching Harvey's eyes well up with pure joy, you knew he was going to be an amazing dad.

#harvey specter #harvey specter x reader #dad!harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harveyspecter #suits fics #requests open

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rylem33 · 2 months ago

Text

A Dark Friday

It's a dark rainy Friday where I am. So I wrote this. I hope you enjoy! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The buzzing of Friday’s alarm jolted her awake. She reached over, silencing the noise with a clumsy swipe. 6:00 AM. Another early morning. She lay there for a moment, letting herself sink back into the quiet. It was one of those rare moments when everything seemed still, calm.

Enjoy it while it lasts, she thought, swinging her legs out of bed. Her body ached a little, but that was nothing new. She hadn’t slept much the night before—superhero work never did care about sleep schedules.

It had started with a petty crime—some guy trying to rob a corner store with a knife. Nothing too serious, but serious enough. She’d stepped in just in time, using her telekinesis to send the knife skidding across the floor before the guy even knew what hit him. The store owner had been grateful, offering her a free soda, which she’d declined with a polite smile. It was her duty, after all. Friday didn’t do it for rewards or recognition. She did it because it was right.

She was known. Well, the superhero version of her was known. Friday herself? She was just another face in the crowd. Just an average office worker, keeping her head down like everyone else. But when she put on the mask, that’s when things changed. People in her corner of the city called her the quiet hero. The one who did the right thing, even when no one was looking. No flashy powers, no big costume, nothing like the big names in the hero world. Just quiet telekinesis and a determination to keep people safe. And people respected her for it. They didn’t know who she was under the mask—didn’t know about the woman who filed paperwork and made small talk at the office—but they knew her work. That was enough.

Friday pulled on her work clothes, glancing in the mirror to make sure she looked… ordinary. That was key. No one at the insurance agency could ever guess she spent her nights stopping crimes. They’d just see the same woman they always saw—responsible, quiet, always on time.

A faint shiver ran down her spine as she finished getting ready. Something felt off this morning, but she brushed it away. It was probably nothing. It’s just one of those days.

She reached for her keys on the table but paused. She didn’t need to grab them manually—a little telekinesis would save the trouble. With a small flick of her fingers, she focused on pulling the keys toward her.

Instead of gently lifting off the table, the keys shot across the room like a bullet, smacking into the wall with a metallic clatter and dropping behind a cabinet.

“Ugh!” Friday muttered, hurrying over to fish them out. That definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. She crouched down, retrieving the keys from behind the furniture, her brows furrowed in confusion.

Weird.

She stared at the dent in the wall for a moment, then she grabbed her bag and headed for the door.

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Friday sat at her desk, the soft hum of office chatter filling the background. Papers were stacked neatly in front of her, just the way she liked it. The morning was routine—email check, document review, small talk with co-workers about the weather.

She glanced at the clock. 10:15 AM. She was running behind on a report, and the stack of papers in front of her wasn’t going to organize itself.

Or… maybe it could.

Friday quickly looked around the office. No one was paying attention—everyone was glued to their computers or deep in conversation. She let out a slow breath, then flicked her fingers under her desk, her eyes narrowing in concentration as she focused on the top stack of papers.

Just a little nudge. It’s harmless.

The papers shifted, lifting gently off the desk. Friday smiled to herself—easy. She guided the stack toward the edge of her desk, ready to settle it into a neat pile on the other side.

But instead of a smooth landing, the papers exploded. They scattered in every direction, flying wildly around the room like leaves in a windstorm. Several pages shot into the ceiling, a few fluttered to the floor, and one—please no—landed directly in her boss’s coffee cup across the room.

“Wha—what the—?” Her boss, Mr. Daniels, looked down at his soaked document in confusion, lifting it out of the cup with two fingers.

Panic flared in Friday’s chest. Oh no, no, no! She stood up abruptly, knocking her chair over with a loud clatter. Every head in the office turned to look.

“Whoops!” Friday blurted out, her voice too bright, too forced. “Sorry! I tripped!”

She bent down to pick up the chair, her face burning as she tried to collect the scattered papers. No one seemed to question it—most of them shrugged and went back to work, assuming she’d just been clumsy. But her heart was racing, and her hands trembled as she grabbed the papers.

Mr. Daniels glanced at her, eyebrow raised, but said nothing. He pulled the soggy paper out of his cup and shook his head before sitting back down.

Friday dropped into her chair, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips as she started gathering the rest of the papers from the floor. What is going on with my powers? They had never been this unpredictable. First the keys, and now this? She couldn’t afford to keep messing up like this, especially not at work. If anyone ever suspected she had powers… she didn’t even want to think about that.

She smoothed the papers back into a pile, forcing herself to breathe. Just get through the day. It’ll pass.

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Friday sat at the table with her co-workers, forcing a smile as they chatted and laughed about some office gossip. It was a typical lunch break—nothing out of the ordinary, and for a moment, she felt like she could relax. She waited for her salad, half-listening as Karen, from accounting, went on about her new puppy.

It was nice to unwind. After the chaos with the papers earlier, she needed a break. Everything felt normal again.

Until the server approached with their food.

Friday’s eyes drifted to the tray, and her stomach gave a small grumble. Karen’s burger. Juicy, perfectly cooked, oozing with cheese and crispy bacon. It looked so much better than her bland salad. Without thinking, she leaned forward a bit, her attention locked on the burger.

Suddenly, it slid an inch across the tray.

Her breath caught in her throat. Before she could react, the burger jerked again, this time more forcefully—right off the tray. The server stumbled, trying to catch the plate, but it was too late. Everything hit the floor with a crash, the tray clattering as fries, plates, and silverware scattered everywhere.

“Oh my God!” Karen gasped, jumping back as ketchup splattered across her shoes.

The entire restaurant seemed to pause for a second, the clatter of dropped plates echoing as people turned to see the commotion.

“I am so sorry!” the server stammered, kneeling down to clean up the mess, her face red with embarrassment.

Friday sat frozen, her heart pounding in her chest. She hadn’t moved a muscle. She hadn’t done anything. But that burger… she knew she’d pulled it toward her with her telekinesis. The realization hit her like a punch to the gut.

Her powers had acted on their own. She hadn’t even tried.

“Wow, bad luck,” one of her co-workers said, shaking her head at the mess. “You okay, Friday?”

“Y-yeah,” Friday managed to say, her voice sounding far away. She forced herself to smile, but inside she felt the panic rising. What just happened? This was different from earlier. This wasn’t just a small glitch. She hadn’t been thinking about using her powers at all, yet they’d taken over, as if drawn out by some stray desire.

Her heart was racing. She stared down at her salad, suddenly feeling sick. Something was very, very wrong.

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Friday sat back at her desk, trying to push the lunch disaster out of her mind. She just needed to focus. If she could stay focused, everything would be fine. The rest of the day would pass without incident, and whatever weirdness was happening with her powers would stop.

It has to stop, she thought, staring at the spreadsheet on her screen. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, but the numbers blurred in front of her eyes. She was too on edge, too anxious.

The office was filled with the usual afternoon energy. People were moving around, talking, making plans for the weekend. Her eyes drifted toward the break area, where Fred, the smarmy salesman, was leaning against the wall, his signature grin plastered across his face. He was talking to Janie from marketing, who looked more than a little uncomfortable as Fred made some joke she clearly didn’t find funny.

Friday scowled. Fred was always like this—overly flirty, never taking the hint. He’d been warned about his behavior before, but it didn’t seem to stick. She could feel the irritation building, her focus narrowing on Fred and his obnoxious smirk.

Suddenly, there was a loud tear. Fred froze mid-sentence, his face suddenly turning bright red as his pants ripped open at the seam, revealing his checkered boxers. Janie’s eyes widened, and a few nearby co-workers stifled laughter as Fred scrambled to cover himself with his hands.

“Uh… I think I’ll catch up with you later,” Janie said, quickly backing away.

Fred mumbled something unintelligible, his face still burning as he darted toward the restroom to fix the wardrobe malfunction. The laughter that followed him seemed to echo throughout the office.

Friday’s heart skipped a beat. Did I… just do that?

She glanced around, but no one seemed to notice her. Everyone was too busy laughing at Fred to even consider that it might have been anything more than a random accident. But she knew. Her powers had acted on that stray thought—without her even trying.

Her stomach knotted. Keep it together. Don’t let it get worse.

She turned back to her screen, trying to type, but her mind kept racing. As the minutes ticked by, small things kept happening.

Her phone buzzed with a notification, but the volume didn’t seem loud enough. She glanced at it, thinking about how annoying it was that she couldn’t hear it clearly, when the sound suddenly blasted to full volume, ringing out through the office. She jumped, slapping her hand over the phone to silence it, drawing startled glances from a few nearby co-workers.

“Sorry!” she squeaked, her face flushing.

A few minutes later, she overheard Megan from HR loudly complaining about some mistake in payroll. Megan had a habit of getting under Friday’s skin, her voice grating with every drawn-out word. Without even realizing it, Friday glared in her direction, wishing Megan would just… shut up.

And then she did.

Megan’s voice cut off mid-sentence, her lips moving but no sound coming out. Her face twisted in confusion as she cleared her throat and tried to speak again, but only a tiny squeak came out.

“Oh no,” Friday whispered, her stomach flipping. She stared at her hands, feeling the panic start to rise again.

Everything she wanted was just… happening. And it wasn’t stopping.

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Friday gripped the steering wheel tighter than usual as she drove downtown. Her mind raced, replaying the bizarre events of the day—Fred’s pants ripping, Megan losing her voice, the server at lunch dropping those plates. It was all too much to ignore now. Her powers were acting without her consent. Every stray thought, every fleeting desire was manifesting itself, and it was getting harder to control.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. I just need to get home. I’ll figure this out later. Just keep it together until then.

As she switched lanes, the driver behind her honked aggressively, speeding up and cutting her off. Before she could stop herself, she felt a surge of anger. Her teeth clenched, and her grip on the wheel tightened even more.

Jerk, she thought bitterly, her eyes narrowing on the car that had just swerved in front of her.

The thought barely had time to register when, in the distance, she saw the car veer sharply to the right, the tires screeching as it suddenly swerved off the road and straight into a nearby pole. The sound of metal crunching filled the air, and Friday’s breath caught in her throat.

The car’s driver stumbled out, dazed but unharmed, waving off a few concerned bystanders. Friday’s pulse quickened, her heart pounding as she slowed down, passing by the wreck.

For a moment, she felt relief. The driver was okay—just shaken up—but a small part of her couldn’t help but think… They deserved it. They’d cut her off, after all. Maybe it was a little payback.

She felt a shiver of guilt crawl up her spine, but the satisfaction was still there, lingering like a whisper. That wasn’t me… was it? But deep down, Friday knew the truth.

It was her.

The car had crashed because she had wanted it to. Her powers, fueled by her irritation, had once again taken over. And this time, it wasn’t just a harmless prank or an embarrassing accident. It was real.

Friday’s hands shook slightly on the wheel as she drove the rest of the way toward downtown, the city’s towering buildings coming into view. She tried to push the unsettling thoughts away, to focus on her nightly patrol. I have to stay in control.

But the more she tried to bury them, the more they grew.

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Friday walked the streets of downtown, her thoughts still stuck on what had happened earlier. She was patrolling out of habit, trying to keep her mind off everything that had gone wrong during the day. But it wasn’t working.

Her powers were slipping out of control, and that scared her. She needed to focus. Patrols usually helped with that. Tonight, though, the streets were quiet leaving her with her thoughts.

She glanced around as she passed under the dim glow of streetlights. A few people walked by, heading home after a long day, but nothing unusual. Nothing to distract her. She shoved her hands into her jacket pockets, trying to stay calm.

Then, she heard it.

A woman’s voice, sharp and panicked, cut through the stillness.

“Stop! Somebody help!”

Friday’s head snapped up. She followed the sound, breaking into a run. As she turned the corner, she saw it—a man sprinting down an alley, clutching a woman’s purse. The woman stood a few feet away, shouting after him, trying to give chase.

Finally, Friday thought, rushing toward the scene. Her powers kicked in almost instinctively. She focused on the purse, pulling it away from the thief with her telekinesis. It worked—too well.

The purse shot out of the man’s hands, but so did he. He slammed into the alley wall with a thud, collapsing to the ground, groaning in pain.

Friday froze for a moment, staring at the man slumped against the brick, his leg jutting out at an awkward angle. She hadn’t meant to hit him that hard.

The woman ran over, panting, eyes wide as she looked between Friday and the thief. “Oh my God, thank you! I don’t know what would’ve happened if—” Her voice trailed off as she noticed the man, barely moving on the ground. “Is he…?”

“He’s fine,” Friday said quickly, her voice flat. She tossed the purse back to the woman. “You should get out of here.”

The woman hesitated for a second, looking at the thief again, then nodded. “Thank you,” she whispered before hurrying off into the night.

Friday stood over the thief, her heart pounding. He was still conscious, groaning, reaching for his leg. He wasn’t seriously hurt, maybe a broken leg. He definitely wasn’t walking away anytime soon.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. She knew she should call for help, but something kept her rooted in place. The anger she’d felt when she saw him snatch that purse… she’d let it slip out, and her powers had acted on it.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized it felt good.

He deserved it. He was a thief. He would’ve hurt that woman if she hadn’t stepped in.

Friday clenched her fists, taking a step back. Her powers had flared up, sure, but wasn’t that what they were for? Stopping people like him? She’d done the right thing. Maybe a little more forceful than necessary, but still.

She looked up, noticing a couple of people watching from across the street. Some seemed impressed, but others whispered to each other, uneasy.

It didn’t matter. She had handled the situation. The thief had been stopped. That’s all that mattered.

Without another word, Friday walked away, leaving the man on the ground. She didn’t feel guilty. If anything, she felt stronger. In control.

And for the first time all day, she didn’t care that her powers had gone too far. She liked it.

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Friday walked aimlessly, her thoughts clouded with the chaos from earlier. She wasn’t sure why her feet had brought her so close to the police precinct, but there she was, hanging back in the shadows as a group of officers stood outside, chatting. She wasn’t patrolling out of duty anymore. It was more like she needed a distraction, something to drown out the noise in her head.

She heard one of the officers mention an accident. Her heart skipped. She moved closer, just enough to catch the conversation.

“Yeah, that guy from earlier? The one who crashed on Maple?” The officer’s voice was tense. “Turns out he’s one of ours. A cop. Good guy. He’s lucky to be alive.”

Friday froze. They were talking about the man she had pushed into that pole. She felt a knot tighten in her stomach.

“Yeah, and it was weird as hell,” another officer chimed in. “The guy says he doesn’t remember how it happened—just lost control out of nowhere. Some witnesses said his car swerved all by itself.”

The knot tightened.

“We’re gonna do a full investigation,” the first officer continued. “We think a supe might’ve been involved.”

Friday’s pulse quickened. A full investigation? They didn’t know it was her. They couldn’t know. But the fact that they were digging into it—it was only a matter of time before they started looking in the right places.

She turned to leave, ready to disappear into the night before things got worse, but one of the officers caught sight of her. “Hey! You there!”

Her heart sank. She was still in her mask, still in her patrol gear. They had no idea she was responsible for the crash, but they recognized her type—a superhero.

The officer walked toward her, his eyes narrowing. “What are you doing hanging around here?”

“I was just…” Friday started, her voice trailing off as she tried to think of an excuse, her mind racing.

The officer snorted. “Typical. Another wannabe hero sticking their nose where it doesn’t belong.”

She shifted her weight, fighting the urge to walk away. Her powers simmered beneath the surface, her anxiety spiking with each second.

Another officer stepped forward, glaring at her. “We don’t need any help from a bunch of masked ‘supes.’ This city’s better off with real cops. People who actually know how to handle things.”

Friday’s jaw tightened. The tension in her chest built with every word they spat at her.

“Your kind thinks you’re above the law,” the first officer added, his tone sharp. “But guess what? We’re not gonna let a bunch of freaks run this city. You’re more trouble than you’re worth.”

Freaks. Trouble. The words rang in her ears, fueling the anger that had been building inside her all day.

She could feel it now—the worry about the investigation, the aggressive tone of the officers, the day’s frustrations—all pushing her closer to the edge. Her powers flickered, and for a moment, she thought about walking away. But she couldn’t.

“You think we need people like you?” the officer continued, stepping closer, his voice dripping with contempt. “You just get in the way. We handle the real problems. The real crimes. Stay out of it.”

That was it. The dam broke.

Before Friday could even register what she was doing, her telekinesis flared. The officer closest to her was suddenly thrown backward, slamming into the precinct wall with a heavy thud. His body crumpled to the ground, dazed.

The other officers reacted instantly, but Friday didn’t stop. The second officer lunged toward her, but she flung him back, sending him skidding across the pavement.

Panic surged through the crowd as other officers scrambled for cover, shouting into their radios. Backup was being called. The precinct buzzed with chaos.

But Friday wasn’t scared anymore. She felt angry.

“Stay out of it?” she muttered under her breath, her voice low. She glanced around, her powers crackling in the air. With a flick of her mind, she sent nearby objects flying—trash cans, parked bikes, even a police car shifted slightly on its wheels.

“You don’t need my help?” she said louder this time, her heart racing. “Fine. Let’s see how well you handle this without it.”

Another officer stepped forward, trying to talk her down, his hands raised in surrender. “Listen, we don’t want any trouble—”

But she didn’t listen. A surge of power erupted from her, shoving him backward like the others. Glass shattered as he hit the windows of the precinct. She could hear shouts inside, radios buzzing, but it only fueled the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins.

For the first time all day, she wasn’t trying to control it. She was letting go.

The police couldn’t stop her. No one could. And for the first time, that felt good.

As the chaos swirled around her, Friday turned and walked away, her footsteps steady and her mind clear. She didn’t care about the investigation anymore. She didn’t care about what came next. The worry that had gnawed at her all day was gone, replaced by something stronger.

This was power.

And she wasn’t holding it back anymore.

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Friday sat at a table in the back of the dimly lit restaurant. She was alone in a secluded area, enjoying the meal in front of her. Gone were the days of restraint, of second-guessing every action. Now, she did what she wanted, when she wanted, without the endless loop of moral questioning. Consequences didn’t matter. They were for the weak, for the people who hadn’t yet realized the thrill of truly letting go.

She twirled her fork slowly, savoring the bite she’d just taken. Her powers had blossomed in the weeks since she’d stopped holding back, growing stronger, sharper. She could feel it humming beneath her skin at all times now, always there, always ready. It wasn’t something to control anymore—it was simply a part of her.

A faint smile crossed her lips as she leaned back in her chair, the warm taste of her meal still lingering on her tongue.

But just as she was about to enjoy another bite, a voice broke through the quiet.

“Boss… sorry to interrupt.”

Her hand froze mid-motion. The fork hovered near her lips as she turned her head slightly. A henchman, one of the low-level lackeys she’d picked up since embracing her new life, stood nervously by the table.

She didn’t look at him.

“I told you,” she said softly, her voice smooth but laced with threat, “I don’t like to be interrupted.”

“I know, but—”

Before he could finish, she flicked her fingers.

With a thought, his body crumpled to the ground. It was almost too easy now, barely an effort at all. He gasped, his breath leaving him as he curled into a heap at her feet, limbs twisted awkwardly. His face contorted in pain, but he didn’t dare scream.

Friday didn’t move. She didn’t even glance at him as she slowly set her fork back down on the table. Her focus returned to her plate, the food that had lost its warmth thanks to the intrusion. The audacity.

“I was enjoying that bite,” she murmured, as if speaking more to herself than to him. Her tone was calm, unbothered by the sight of him writhing in agony on the floor. She let him suffer for a moment longer, savoring the power that came so easily to her now.

After a beat, she finally spared him a glance. “Now, tell me. Was it worth ruining my meal?”

He gasped, struggling to form words. “No… no, I—”

Another flick of her hand, and his body eased just enough to breathe again. She wasn’t finished with him yet.

“Good.” She leaned back, her eyes cold. “You’ll heal. Next time, think before you come running to me.”

She took a slow, deliberate sip of her drink, watching quietly writhe on the floor. Another henchman watched from across the room but dared not interfere.

The interruption over, Friday picked up her fork again, lifting the next bite to her lips. She smiled, savoring the taste, the power, the complete control over everything around her.

This was her world now. And nothing—no one—could stop her.

#f2f transformation #personality change #f2f corruption #f2f

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