What Are You Doing
1150 Words
HAZEL
Axel didn’t move.
Not an inch.
Not a flinch.
Not even a breath out of rhythm.
The plate I’d thrown shattered against the wall inches from his head. Glass rained down like glittering snow around him. A piece of steak even slid down the wall in slow motion before plopping onto the carpet.
But Axel… Axel just sat there.
His jaw clenched once. His fingers tapped the table once. His eyes, icy, sharp, and unblinking, stayed locked on me. I froze mid-throw, my chest rising and falling like I’d sprinted a mile. The last thing in my hand was the water jug,
Axel finally spoke, voice low… dangerously calm.
“Hazel.”
I felt myself tremble. My fingers went numb around the jug. I swallowed so hard it hurt.
Slowly, so painfully slowly, I put the jug back on the table.
Axel rose from his chair, brushing one piece of ceramic dust from his jacket sleeve. The motion was terrifyingly precise, like he wasn’t brushing off a piece of plate…but wiping off the disrespect I’d dared to throw at him.
He took one step. Then another. His shoes crunched on the broken glass. My breath hitched as he stopped right in front of me. He leaned in, those cold blue eyes narrowing in a way that made my stomach flip and my throat tighten.
“Did you get it out of your system?” he murmured.
Calm. Deadly calm. Like a man deciding whether to destroy me. I didn’t answer. Mostly because I couldn’t. Words were gone. Air was gone.
Axel lifted a hand and brushed a strand of hair from my cheek. The gentleness was worse than anger....so much worse. It made my heart hammer painfully against my ribs.
Then he whispered, voice low enough to make my spine arch:
“Because if you throw one more thing at me…”
His thumb slid along my jaw, slow and claiming.
“…you’ll spend the next hour learning why you shouldn’t.”
A shiver rolled down my back. My thighs pressed together on instinct.
He tilted my chin up with two fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze fully.
“Now,” he said softly, “ you're done throwing things at me.”
His eyes dropped to my lips.
“Unless,” he added, a slow, sinful curl tugging at his mouth, “you want to start throwing yourself instead.”
My breath caught. My pulse jumped, wild and traitorous Axel didn’t even blink. His thumb stroked my cheek once more.
“Where were we?” he murmured.
"I was just about to tell you to go to hell," I said as I raised my hand, ready to lash out, ready to go at him again, but of course, Axel caught my wrist mid‑air. Of course he did.
"So that’s how you want to do this," Axel said, his voice full of resolve.
I didn’t answer him. I just stared at him angrily, defiantly, every breath in me daring him to push me one more inch.
“Okay,” he said softly. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
And before I could process what that meant, he grabbed me so fast I gasped, and the room tilted. One second I was standing, the next he had lifted me clean off the floor. He sat down in my chair, like he owned it, owned the table, owned the very air I breathed… and then he placed me across his lap.
My head was hanging somewhere toward the ground, my hair falling over my face, and my ass was up, right there, like I was some disobedient kid being punished. My body went hot and cold all at once.
I couldn’t take this new position.
“What are you..... Axel, what are you doing.....?” I screamed when his hand landed hard on my ass, the sound echoing so loud it froze me to my bones.
Another slap.
And another.
My breath tumbled out in shocked gasps.
“What are you doing?” was the only thing I could force out, my voice cracking, my palms pushing uselessly at his thigh.
He didn’t soften. Not even a second.
“You want to act like a brat,” he said, voice low and razor-controlled, “then I’m going to treat you like a brat.”
My stomach dropped. My body clenched.
“I warned you, Hazel,” he murmured. “You don’t listen. So now it’s time for a lesson.”
His palm settled heavy on the curve of my ass, warm, claiming, terrifying.
“I’m going to hit your ass red and hot,” he said, leaning over me like a shadow. “And you won’t be able to sit for days.”
I tried to lift myself, but I couldn’t even get my palms flat on anything. Axel had me pinned perfectly, my torso stretched across his lap, my head hanging down toward the floor, my hair brushing against his shoes. My legs were thrown over the other side of his thigh, completely helpless, completely trapped.
I couldn’t push myself up. I couldn’t do a damn thing.
“Axel, stop....!” I gasped, but the words came out choked because every time I tried to move, his arm tightened around my waist, holding me exactly where he wanted me.
Then his palm came down again. A sharp smack. Heat blooming instantly across my skin. I jolted, my hands curling uselessly in the air, trying to grab onto something, anything. But there was nothing. Just air and humiliation.
“What are you doing?! Stop right this minute.” I managed to scream again uselessly, my voice shaking, my breath hitching as the sting spread through me.
His answer was a low growl above me, vibrating through his chest and into my bones.
“This is how you treat a brat,” he said, each word slow, deliberate.
Another slap.... Harder.BI yelped, my toes curling, my fingers clawing at empty space.
“I warned you, Hazel,” he said, tightening his arm around my middle when I tried to wriggle away. “You don’t listen. You don’t stop. So now you’re going to learn.”
The next smack made my entire body jolt on his lap.
I could feel the heat building...sharp, throbbing, humiliating.
“Axel, please....”
It came out broken. I hated that.
He didn’t stop. Not even for a second.
“Oh, you’ll be saying ‘please’ a lot more before we’re done,” he murmured darkly. “Because I’m not stopping until your ass is red, hot, and hurting every time you try to sit.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, a strangled sound escaping me. My legs kicked once, reflexively, earning me a warning squeeze at my waist.
“Don’t test me,” he murmured against my ear. “Not right now.”
- Writer
