a collection of various oneshots about nhlers written by me, parkerdreams.
i accept requests, but also let it be known that i may not want to write about the player you ask for. you can always pick another!
if i add your request to my list, make s...
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trent frederic.
word count: 2.0k
warning: explicit content
- - -
"Don't even think about telling anyone about this."
His voice rasped in your ear as his hand constricted around your throat, aiming to send a message. "Or I swear to God, I'll have him fired."
Your father worked at Frederic Roofing for as long as you could remember. Because of that, he moved fairly high up in the business, eventually making friends with the founding family. He loved the job—it helped him support your family and he wouldn't trade it for the world.
So it wouldn't be too thrilling for him to find out that his daughter was fucking the owner's son in the staff bathroom, would it?
"Don't," you demanded, whimpering as he pushed you into the sink. "He needs it."
Trent's fingers trailed down to your outer thigh, hiking your skirt up and burying his face in your neck. His warm breath fanned your skin as he peppered kisses down to your shoulder and back up. You looked up at the mirror in front of you, allowing you to see his face sporting a grin in the reflection as he teased you. Your eyes fixated on the silver chains hanging loosely around his neck, poking just far enough out from under his shirt for you to see them.
"Yeah, so he doesn't need to find out about this," he clarified, then moved his hand to the damp fabric between your legs. "And neither does my dad."
It wouldn't have happened if you hadn't decided to visit your father at work that day. You did see him, but only for a while—he was busy. It wasn't until you were about to walk out the door that you heard the familiar rasp of Trent's voice behind you, calling out your name and forcing your attention to him.
And it wasn't long before he was dragging you into the nearest bathroom to satisfy the needs he'd been harboring for however many years he'd known you.
"He doesn't need to know that his own employee's daughter is whoring around with his son right now." The thumb of the hand around your neck pressed firmly into your skin, posing the delicious threat of taking away your breath.
"And I can't afford to have that image."
"Fuck," you let the expletive slip from your lips, using your hands for stability as they grabbed at the ceramic sink in front of you.
"Got that?"
You nodded sharply in response.
His lips trailed up to your ear, grazing the skin lightly. "God, you're such a tease."
He pushed you harder into the sink by the waist. "Coming to visit your father in this," his hand was under your skirt, thumb dragging itself up and down atop the damp, lacy underwear beneath it. "It's like you were begging to be pulled in here."
