#top is boss CEO type | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

setsugekka · 9 months

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❥business attire (m)

↳ You have no qualms with doing what it takes to get ahead professionally: a white lie here, a bit of cheating there—sleeping with your boss? Simple.

Until a business trip with a rival colleague puts quite a wrench into all of that.

bang chan x fem!reader — colleagues/rivals to lovers, romcom, porn with plot, explicit sexual content. [12k wc] cws: alcohol drinking, themes of sexism in the work place!!, penetrative sex, body cum shot, oral sex (m+f), dirty talking (very mild condescension/humiliation), teasing, chan has a big dick of course because i wrote this.

Everything has led up to this moment.

Years of studying, internships, exams; grueling schedules and lost hours of sleep, not even accounting for the people stepped over and lost along the way. You had made the decision long ago that you were willing to do whatever it would take to make it to the top, to achieve the kind of success that you knew was waiting for you somewhere out and into the future.

You're no stranger to the CEO's office, all shining and glittering gold with accents and glossed, white marble, though you do have to admit, you're not used to being here with a third, as far as company is concerned.

No, typically you find yourself here in the later hours of the evening, partaking in a particular set of extra curricular activities that you know will bargain your way up the professional ladder. Ethical? Questionable. Do you care? Not even a little bit.

Granted, you can't imagine the other guy—Chris—to feel similarly about your leg-up on him, as it were.

Your colleague in question stands beside you with hands behind his back like he's a child waiting to hear his grades called out by the teacher. It's a little charming, you've got to admit, though nothing if not sad given the fact that he's awaiting something that was never really going to be offered to him to begin with.

And you don't know anything about this guy because you don't tend to bother learning much of anything about the people surrounding you in your workplace, outside of the smallest inkling of weaknesses that can be used to your advantage. Susan in accounting, for example, one to have something of an issue with getting to work on time in the mornings; no problem, the time clocks can be easily forged to make up for the discrepancy.

Except, of course, for the fact that it's against company policy to do so, and an offense that can find one terminated in an instant—it certainly was a shame the evening that the CEO had come to find out about that, after a bottle of wine and a particularly enthusiastic blowjob from you.

But Chris keeps to himself, and if not for this meeting here, you'd not even know his name. He works on business contact profiles not unlike yourself, which makes him someone that sits directly in your crosshair. You glance over his features for a brief second—his high nose bridge and his full lips, and acknowledge that he's sort of handsome for someone that you have to destroy the will of today. Well, it's not you destroying it, though you've more than put in the work to ensure it to happen.

The CEO of the company brings his attention up from the paper work laid out in front of him and finally grants it to the both of you. Your eyes meet with his in an instant and you try to bite back the knowing grin of victory that threatens to pull at the corners of your lips. Be mature about this, you think to yourself. Humility not a strong suit of yours, sure, but no need to rub it all into the wound.

"There's a massive account that needs an exquisite set of eyes and ears on it this coming weekend, this kind of business trip is the type that makes or breaks a company, a supervisor of the company." The man pauses, eyes falling back down to the papers as he shuffles them about lightly across the desk. "So, you understand that the utmost sensitivity and attention to detail is necessary when deciding who it is to send out on these sorts of things, but in the event of a net gain, then it's easy to understand that the trickle down effect is one that can be felt by everyone involved."

You smile, this time unable to hold it back.

He continues. "The success of this means the immediate success of the supervisor involved."

Then, he looks up to the both of you.

"Which is why I have decided to send the both of you out, and based on the return, I will make a decision in relation to who will be the benefactor."

Your eyes widen, smile falling, and in the moment you find yourself incapable of holding your feelings of unjust back.

"What? What do you mean you're sending both of us? What benefit could me or the company see in having this guy tag along?"

"Hey?" Chris cuts in, a little wounded. You ignore him for the most part.

"Chris does good work, has proven himself on numerous occasions. I think the two of you will work just fine together, and if that's not the case, then consider it a friendly workplace competition to get the fires really burning for results."

Jaw clenched and teeth gritted tightly, you take a step towards the man happily seated in his position of taking, and dare to point a finger out towards him.

"I've earned this."

But to that, a knowing, shit-eating grin pulls at a single corner of his mouth. An understanding of this, of the anger you're feeling and where it's coming from and how absolutely fruitless it will be.

"Have you?" he questions lightly, a disgusting chime in his tone that makes your stomach turn. His eyes drop back down to the desk, not bothering to even look at you for the following question. "And how is it that you've done that, exactly?"

Freezing in place, even just the question mortifies you. Chris' being there feels far too illuminating now in comparison to the emptiness that he carried before, and you know that this man knows that you are incapable of answering that as diligently as you may like to.

But still, the both of you know.

You close your eyes slowly, exhale steadily and try to center yourself into something more professional once more. "I've worked incredibly hard for this kind of opportunity, sir."

"And so has Chan! Sorry, I mean Chris. I'm afraid we spend so much time together leisurely that I often forget to address you properly in a professional setting nowadays!"

What's worse than the initial blow of this knowledge dawning upon you is the way that the man beside you laughs, like it's the funniest thing in the world that you're being made a fool of in front of these men. Granted, he doesn't know—does he know?—regardless, the humiliation toiling in your gut twists unrelentingly whether your colleague is privy or not.

You don't get a chance to respond before the man who has wronged you continues on with the thought, however.

"You are still getting the opportunity, it's just that you're sharing it with someone else. If your work continues to shine above and beyond your peers, then you have nothing to worry about, now do you?"

It takes everything you have inside of you not to snarl out a reply. "Yes, sir. I'll see to it getting done."

"Excellent news! You and Chan are set to leave tomorrow, a red-eye to Los Angeles for three days. I trust that the two of you can have it settled in that time?"

"Yes, sir," the both of you reply in unison, and even just that twists like a dagger in your back.

The airport terminal is busy, too much, for your liking.

There are perks to being in such places, though, and you choose to revel in those small things. No one is interested in you or what you're doing. No one around you cares about your immaculately pressed garment or the fact that your luggage is slightly scuffed. They pay you no mind as you look up from your phone and towards the screen sitting atop the gate entrance as you await your boarding signal.

"Hey."

You sigh aloud at the simple word, easily recognizing the voice that carries it through the crowds. Glancing to your other side, your colleague stands with phone and luggage in hand; a suit jacket just ill-fitting enough that it perturbs you that much more.

So, you don't reply. Chris sits next to you and settles his belongings in such a haphazard way that it grates on your nerves—much like everything that he seems to do, does—and you silently await for him to make his presence unknown to you for what you hope to be the rest of the near week that the two of you are forced to spend together.

Not so lucky, however.

"I think it's going to be good that we're working on this together," he says cheerfully. Annoyingly. "By the way, you can call me Chan. Chris is so formal and professional."

"Well, Chris, we are workplace colleagues, so it only makes sense that we remain professional," you respond.

He leans in towards you, "Our work place isn't that professional, I'm sure you've noticed."

You don't like the sound of that, though it could very well be more of your hurt feelings and humiliation taking the driver's seat. Thus, you temper the anger that threatens to burst out at what you think could be certain implications and simply meet his eyes with a glare.

"So I have."

Chris, Chan, whatever—leans back in his seat, crosses his arms over his chest before continuing on with the thought that you don't care to hear more of but know you're going to be prisoned with, regardless.

"I think we can learn a lot from one another during this."

"And what is it that I can learn from you that I've not yet gathered from years of study, internships, and work in the field? Do you think it's an accident that I've landed myself so far up the corporate ladder?"

His head cocks to the side, and for a moment, you think it to be daringly condescending.

"No, but it's no accident that I've landed myself here, either."

You roll your eyes and focus down on the phone in hand.

"The truth of the matter is that in a lot of cases, the best way to get ahead is to take everyone else down around you," he carries on, voice dropping down to something more akin to a whisper. "Playing nice only gets you so far."

The snort of a laugh that escapes you is so quick you don't have a chance in fighting it back.

"If you think you're going to be conniving enough to wrestle this out of my hands, then I'm afraid you've been paired up against the wrong adversary," you reply. "Better, stronger, smarter men than you have tried, and failed."

Chan's eyebrows perk at that, like he's amused by the comeback. There's a part of you that appreciates the fact that he doesn't immediately wither in the shadow of your toughness, though you're far from desiring a fight for this trip as it carries on, either. Withering, in some cases, might be best.

"You don't know anything about me, yet you're so willing to assume I'm unworthy of the challenge of taking you on. Unfortunately for you, I love a good, friendly competition."

To that, you huff out yet another mildly amused laugh.

"It will be anything but friendly."

The flight to Los Angeles gives you plenty of time to conjure up a game plan, not that you think you're going to need anything all that involved to conquer your adversary.

Chan enjoys the in-flight entertainment alongside of you as you do—laughs along to the film that he's watching and orders himself a drink to truly settle in. You do neither. Instead, you crack open your laptop and mull over the numerous documents and spreadsheets of information that you'll want to know like the back of your hand by the time that you land.

As well as how best to handle him.

Thankfully, your colleague seems whimsically dim despite your earlier conversation in the airport. He talks a big game as far as a competition and winning is to be concerned, but you rack your brain trying to recall a time in which his name has ever come up at work previously; no accolades, no parties thrown, no cheers for a job well done. In fact, the majority of those moments have been granted to you, and incredibly hard-earned, at that.

But, you have to give it to him: he doesn't appear frightened by you. Chalk that up to naivete, sexism, or stupidity—you couldn't care less which pin it is that he lands on, because either way, the outcome will be the same.

So sure of himself, and yet nothing to show for it besides a bizarrely personal relationship with the CEO. Well, you have that, too.

With the way that things have played out, you want to call things off, however. This man back at the office has humiliated you and taken from you but not held up his end of the bargain. Is it worth it to continue carrying on? Will it harm your career if you don't? Probably best to maintain the status quo as far as sexual endeavors go. Besides, the sex isn't half bad, either.

When you and Chan land in Los Angeles it's far too early for your liking and with how little sleep you are now on, but the thrum of the bustling, awaiting city excites you. This opportunity is going to be everything—is going to grant you everything—and in all likelihood, you wouldn't be able to sleep if you were to try.

Chan attempts to take your bags from you once you're both walking the busy halls of LAX and you fight him off with every try. He smiles and laughs and rolls his eyes at your unwillingness to cooperate, but this is no comical matter to you. Little does he know how close to danger he sits at every passing moment.

One taxi down and making your way to the hotel, Chan rushes his way out of the car and around to the back so that you have no hope in fighting him this time. He is so insufferable, you think to yourself, though you can't deny yourself the joy of having him hauling your luggage about. Good, perhaps you will be useful to me, after all.

The hotel is a lavish one; all white marble, silver accenting and lush green foliage at every turn. You're thankful for that much, because in so many ways there is nowhere else that you wish to be less than here.

You spot a bar down the corridor just a bit and make a mental note of it, as you may be spending ample time there when not constructing the professional downfall of your idiot colleague. In that moment, Chan forces himself into your line of vision with a wide grin and nods his head over towards the elevator.

"Floor seven," he says, handing you one of the room keys.

You look at it, sitting thoughtfully placed inside of its red paper envelope with a number written on in gold ink. Then, you glance at his, still remaining in his hand.

The same number.

"We don't have separate rooms?" you question, though you're capable enough to already know the answer to such an asinine question. Thus, you move onto the next most obvious one. "Why don't we have separate rooms?"

"There's two beds, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal," you all but shout, forcing the tail end of your anger back as to maintain a semblance of professionality. "We need to go back down and get this sorted out. I'll handle it."

Chan laughs under his breath, watching the number on the LED change as the elevator rises.

"You won't be sorting anything out. There's about five major conferences in the area this weekend and this place is heavily booked, as is everywhere else decent in the region. You're just going to have to put your big girl pants on and deal with it."

You don't know Los Angeles well enough to hide a body. Unfortunate.

Though your fingers tingle and your head throbs, you don't bother fighting the fact any further. You are a logical woman, and you're perfectly capable of understanding the concept of there being no further vacancy in a hotel. Thus, you sigh, clench your jaw, and drop it altogether.

When the elevator stops with a ding, you couldn't feel more relieved. You rush out from between the metal doors so quickly that you nearly shoulder it as it continues its momentum. Down the hall and pausing in front of your shared, temporary residence, you press the key to the reader and push inside without even so much as a thought about where Chan is or how he is fairing with the baggage load that he has taken upon himself to deal with.

The door nearly shuts him out, a leg craned in through the crack as he fights it without a word to you for help.

It is spacious. Bright and clean and smells of new linens like no one prior to the two of you has ever actually stayed in here before. The bathroom is large and pristine in the way that it glitters. A wide enough working space with two chairs and not nearly enough coffee offered straight away—though that's a simple enough fix as far as you are concerned.

"Pretty nice!"

Ah. You had nearly forgotten about him, but Chan always has a way of making his presence known. He hands you your bag and you pull it over towards the side of the bed that faces the large window, blinds drawn. Reaching towards them, Chan offers up his expertise once again.

"They said there's a balcony."

"Surely I could have gathered as much for myself."

He rolls his eyes and sits on the edge of his bed, intent on unpacking. You continue on towards the balcony, pulling the fabric away and gazing out through the massive, glass panes.

It's Los Angeles. Not a whole lot to offer as far as views go in the major city areas, but suppose it will have to do.

"We should get dinner tonight. Look over our plan of action for the next couple of days with these clients and get to know one another a little bit better." Chan isn't looking at you while he says it, but you can hear the hopefulness in the sound of his voice without necessarily seeing it on his face. "Besides, it's on company dime, might as well go all-out!"

While the idea of spending somewhat intimate, one-on-one time with this man is not something that excites you, suppose what does excite you is the possibility of putting your devilish little plan of hostile take-over into action. Unfortunately, what this also means for your future, is something that will be much, much more difficult than simply defeating him.

Being nice.

"Yeah, that sounds good, actually." You hope the sudden change in your demeanor doesn't raise any red flags in his mind, but you don't think him to be smart enough to consider the fact. "There was a nice looking place downstairs in the lobby, maybe we should go there."

"Perfect!"

He's so happy that it almost makes you feel guilty about the whole thing.

Chan continues on. "It's early and I've got a few things I want to get ahead on. I'll get out of here so that you can sleep, just in case that's what you'd like to do, but feel free to send me a message if you need me for anything. I'll just be downstairs."

He's so kind. How unfortunate.

"I will, thank you."

Chan grabs his work bag and scurries out of the shared room. How disastrous this whole thing is for him, a monumental case of wrong place, wrong time.

Dinner is good, but your trickery is far more delicious.

There's a stack of envelopes with paperwork inside of them sitting on the edge of the relatively small table, barely enough room for it now that entrees and glasses of wine have been poured, but now that the business portion of the evening has come to a close, the two of you are able to enjoy the perks that going on these sorts of trips often has to offer.

Chan sits ahead of you with a glass full of white wine and a nicer tie than the one he arrived with. He looks handsome–that, you can't deny—though it's something that will have to sit ignored in the back of your mind with far more important matters to consider.

"Are you seeing anyone?"

You're lost in your thoughts when he asks the question suddenly, and it jars you back into the present moment with what you imagine to be an incredibly evident startle.

"I'm not sure that's any of your business," you reply quickly, but on second thought, you remember that your plan is to reel him in. Thus, you amend the response. "No, I'm not. I'm much too wrapped up with my career for that."

Chan pouts, like he's sad about it for you. "Still, it gets lonely, yeah?"

He looks and sounds sincere in a way that you're not expecting, and suppose a little honesty won't completely hinder your end goal.

"It does, sometimes, but that's what I've chosen. Once I'm comfortable with where I am professionally, then I'll carve out time for dating." You look up at him, pointing your fork straight at him, "this isn't some thinly veiled commentary about how I'm getting too old to find someone, is it?"

And though you're somewhat joking in saying it, horror strikes through each and every one of Chan's facial features upon hearing the words.

"What? Oh, no! God, no! I was just thinking that working long hours like we do can be isolating, so it might be nice to have someone to go home to at the end of it all, you know?"

You do know.

"It's not that I don't get out and meet people, do things," you say, taking a sip from your glass to wash away the humiliation of honesty that lingers in your throat. "They're just not…long term acquaintances, if you will."

Chan grins knowingly, and you don't particularly like that look on him. As if you've not been the one giving up the information freely to get him to this point.

"Ah, I see," he says in an exhale and an accompanying nod, "just enough to keep the bed warm next to you sometimes, huh? I'm no stranger to that arrangement, myself."

This is far more information than you find you ever need to know about any of your colleagues, though the same could be said about anything at all regarding their personal lives. Spouses, kids, pets, what kind of car they drive; it's all more information than you care to know about any of them, though you can't help but feel the sizzle of intrigue inside of your chest at his willingness to offer up such particularly intimate knowledge in regards to his late night activities.

Perhaps playing with this guy will be more fun than originally considered.

And thus, you take something of a gamble in relation.

"To be honest with you, I've been seeing someone casually for a while, though I'm not sure if that arrangement is working out for me any longer."

Both of you take another sip from your glasses, but Chan's gaze lingers on you for an especially lengthy amount of time. He sets his glass down calmly on the table, sighs aloud, and then settles himself casually against the back of the chair.

"I know you've been sleeping with the CEO."

You are thankful to no longer be in the middle of your drink, because you'd certainly be choking on the swallow right about now.

There's an attempt to maintain your composure—something that you're quite adept at—though in situations like this you have far less experience in doing so. You're not quite sure whether or not the shock is obvious across your face, but it certainly feels like it is.

No point in lying, the both of you are already here, after all.

"Is that so." Not a question, a statement.

Chan shrugs, all nonchalant in a way that you don't really appreciate, either.

"Yeah, he let it slip one of the nights we were out late playing darts with the guys from the office. Sounded a bit like he was boasting, like I was supposed to be impressed with him for it, or something."

"I take it you're not the only one who knows then?"

"Nah, I don't think he told everyone. It was a moment where we were alone, I don't really know why he told me. I was just like, that's great, man, and then we started talking about the game."

Slumping into your chair, it's the first time you've felt well and truly defeated, and especially when it comes to any and all matters such as these. While you're not ashamed of the lengths gone through in order to attain what it is that you intend to attain, it is far from ideal for the entire office to be aware of it.

"Amazing, you didn't even have to sleep with him to get put on this assignment," you sigh, arms crossing over your chest. "Suppose I look foolish now."

"I don't really care about that, about you doing whatever you think you need to do to get ahead in life. If you want to sleep with our boss to do that then that's your prerogative," Chan says, tone simplistic and plain. "Where I do care is that you seem to be under the impression that you're the only person in the office who is worthy of anything, and that no one else is working hard in order to achieve anything. I am, we are, just most of us aren't going to the same lengths that you are."

A beat of silence passes between you, and in perfect timing, the waiter comes with the check and disappears just as swiftly. Once he disappears from the table side, Chan leans forward, dropping his volume even more in a way that expresses so wholly that the next words spoken are truly only meant for you.

"I've seen your work, I know you have what it takes to be a top executive in this company, and that's without all of the extra shit like fucking some rich scumbag who's just going to turn around and throw the fact back in your face." He leans back again, signs the receipt, and then begins reaching for the stack of papers. "But you're not the only one who works hard and puts in crazy hours to earn a place here. Let's work this case like the team we're meant to be, get it done like I know that we can, and shove it in that asshole's face once we get back."

It's a plan that seems so pleasant on the surface: working together with a colleague who you now have nothing to hide from, who knows all of your dirty little professional secrets and still appears to respect you in spite of it.

You watch Chan pack all of the belongings into a briefcase and can't help but wonder, why don't you care? Why would someone in direct competition with you not seem to be bothered by the fact that you're extending yourself well beyond a professional setting in order to no longer have to compete with him on equal footing?

Rather, you can't help but feel as though the tone of the conversation has taken a turn, almost as though Chan respects you and your work ethic more after the discussion of it all. With everything laid out onto the table, this man knows and understands you in a way that no one else really does, and beyond all of it—he still sees you. He sees how important all of this is, how you're capable of doing just about anything to achieve your purpose no matter how looked down upon it often is, and no matter how humiliating it has thus turned out to be.

Chan just sees you.

"We have an early morning tomorrow, I know these guys are going to want us there at least twenty minutes before the time, so we should plan to have our coffee and look over the documents well before we're meant to arrive."

You glance up at him as he stands, baggage in hand and a smile that says all of the very same things you've just come to realize about him. It's back to normal, like nothing has happened, no conversation about any ethically questionable goings on has even taken place.

Back to regularly scheduled programming.

And you kind of like that.

Twenty minutes early becomes thirty minutes, due to your insistence. With a coffee in hand and perfectly manicured nails, you step out from one of the back doors of the taxi and leave the dealing with briefcases and paperwork to the guy who insists on going above and beyond to make himself useful to you. Good.

It's an early morning, but you find some comfort in that. Los Angeles never really turns off, but at least for now the sidewalks and streets are just a bit quieter than they will be at any other hour of the day. The weather is beautiful—perfectly breezy in just the right amount, with the sun coyly peeking through the clouds edges up above—and you can't help but think to yourself, no way that this day could possibly go wrong for me.

The office building that the two of you stand in front of is nothing special, as far as appearances go. Most in the surrounding area look much the same; worn down from the elements and barely seeing any architectural upkeep, but the spinning, glass front doors standing just a few paces ahead tell a different story of the interior. In ways, it brings a sort of feeling of the illuminated beauty of your professional future, standing between you, and there.

You're in your best set of dress. Black and white with a long skirt fitted just right. Chan is much of the same beside you in his immaculately tailored jacket, accentuating the wide slope of his shoulders and sleeves cutting off perfectly at his wrists.

He turns to look at you, and then smiles with a cute cock of his head.

"Ready to smash it?"

And not that you needed the added boost, but hearing the words vocalized from him adds just that much more fuel to your fire.

You nod. "Absolutely."

Hands are shaken and pleasantries exchanged once you and Chan are invited upstairs and into a large, white conference room that feels far too sterline and uninhabited for your liking. The place feels open, yet uninviting in a way that grates on your nerves and incites the kind of anxiety that you've not felt in these situations for many, many years.

One positive, is that the three men that you're meant to be working with today seem relatively uninterested in you, particularly. From one head of the table, you set your coffee down and begin unpacking a briefcase full of paperwork, envelopes, and a laptop crammed full of numbers and offerings and statistics meant to make this a home run. You know that it will be, you believe wholly that it will, but as you glance up and across what feels to be an impossibly long table towards the grouping of men chuckling and laughing amongst themselves, you can't help but feel something else that you've not felt in such a long time.

The all-encompassing suffocation of male cliquiness.

The Boys Club. They exist in so many spaces, and far from unheard of in your particular line of work. You watch on—particularly at Chan—as he smiles and laughs along with men that take absolutely no interest in you, your work, or what you bring to the table. They all playfully slap each other's arms and nod along to their stupid jokes like they've been best friends since the playground, and you are left out of it entirely.

Once you're settled, you stare at them and their childishness for what feels like an eternity, until finally you decide upon being the bad guy and taking matters into your own hands.

You clear your throat, "mind if we get started?"

The laughter stops dead in its tracks, all joy seemingly sucked out of the room at a lightning quick pace, and the men slowly turn to grant you their obvious looks of abject disapproval.

Though, you can't help but wonder which part they are disapproving of, exactly; be it the fact that it is time to begin the meeting, or the fact that a woman has the audacity to tell them as much.

Still, they follow suit without a disgruntled word. Chan makes his way around the table to meet you where you stand, but as the two of you meet eyes, he nods at you. The quiet insistence for you to take the lead. Not that you had any plans otherwise.

So, you do. With the laptop hooked up and the projection upon the wall, you begin going over statistics for the men to look over, take in, eventually discuss amongst themselves. It's easy work for you, knowing all of this information and all of the inner workings of your profession like the back of your hand.

One man raises a hand slightly into the air, a pen perched between his fingers as he nods towards the projector.

"What was the annual turnover for 2019 and how did that impact the immediate years going forward?"

He is looking at Chan when he asks the question, though your colleague has not said a word the entire time. You want to be better than the urge to present yourself in a way unbecoming of women in your position, because you know that anything you do can be interpreted as such, but the anger and desire for hostility gets the better of you when you reply back to him.

"2.3%, and the impact was minimal, easily dealt with internally with very little felt as a result of it throughout other sectors of the company."

The man asking raises his eyebrows, as if surprised by the fact that you have spoken. You've swallowed down your pride that would come out as far more aggressive than simply answering the question, so if he has an issue with you doing so now, you know precisely what to chalk it up as.

He turns to look at his colleagues first, then his attention falls back to you with a foul curl to the corner of his lips.

"I asked him," he says, pointing his pen at Chan. "Not you."

To this, Chan reels physically. You're not looking at him, not paying him any mind in particular, but you can see as much out of the corner of your eye from where he stands beside you. Now, your eyebrows perk up at the insidiousness of what's so outwardly and openly taking place here, but not so willing to take it on as a defeat just yet.

"With all due respect," you reply, calm and unshaken as you can be. Practiced, throughout the years. "I've been working at this company for six years, been through the lowest of the lows and had a personal hand in ensuring that it reached its highest of highs. While my colleague is knowledgeable and well-respected, this meeting is being led by me, so I would appreciate it if any questions be directed as such."

This feels good. Far from the first time you've had to stick up for yourself in such a way, you exhale the nerves through a semi-shaken breath and settle yourself where you stand. You're still not looking at him, but you do notice the fought back creeping of a smile across his lips.

The joys of victory end quickly, however.

Another man speaks up, this one seated across the way from the first indignant fellow.

"With all due respect," he begins, mocking you. "I believe I speak for all of the men in the room when I say that the only questions we're particularly interested in asking you relate to the snugness of your skirt around your hips and ass, and if there are ever questions relating back to the professional aspect of this engagement, we will be addressing your colleague."

The mixture of emotions that course through you is electric, impossible to parse through and pick just one out to focus on. Anxiety, anger, humiliation, regret, terror, sadness; they all rage through your nerves. Your skin feels hot, a sort of dizziness coming in on you quickly that you don't appreciate, because now is not the time to be experiencing weakness. Your lips part to speak, still unsure of what to even say. Flabbergasted, you attempt to find the words—some words—to fire back at these horrible men, but your mind feels simultaneously full and empty. How can that be.

A woman who prides herself on being the best and brightest in the room, dwindled down to nothing at the hands of useless, pathetic men who bring nothing to the table besides those already aforementioned.

"Alright, let's not get out of hand," Chan says, cutting in through the awkward silence. This appears to appease the men, which you dislike even more though you understand his reasoning for doing it. "My colleague is very well-respected in her profession and incredibly knowledgeable. Perhaps it would be best if we make quick work of wrapping this up and heading off on our separate ways."

For the rest of the meeting, Chan takes the lead. The men down the way open up splendidly, laugh and have a wonderful time with another man in charge, saying all of the same things you had said, reading off of all of the sheets of information that you compiled, that you slaved away at for weeks, for months at a time. Countless late nights with nothing more than the television for company in the background and a frozen pizza in the oven in order to make sure that you will never, ever be the recipient of the kinds of unreasonable lashings that you have taken on today.

All for nothing.

You don't dare speak another word, and sit in the shadow cast by your colleague. When the meeting concludes, the business men are happy; smiling and laughing along with any and everything Chan says. They love him. They love him not because he is knowledgeable, or good at his job in a way that is particularly extraordinary, but simply because he is not a woman. Simply because he is not you.

This sort of dichotomy has always existed, and in every facet of life, too. When buried into your work and the insular walls of your typical professional environment, suppose that it's easy to forget what it's like out here, in the real world. Where men do not respect you whether you're better than them or not, all in all, the result is the same, anyway.

Suppose the CEO has prepared you for this moment, a smaller humiliation only to set you up for one much larger and harder to swallow down the pain of.

Chan handles these men—the situation as a whole—as well as he can, you suppose. There is a kind of pain that settles in your chest at his unwillingness to turn it into a fight, though logically, you understand how pointless this might be for everyone involved. How short-lived the joy of bombing this meeting might be, only so that the suffering of your ego-death be even shorter-lived.

Just get in, and then get out, as relatively unscathed as you can manage. Chan has picked up the pieces left scattered around to the best of his ability and really, with flying colors.

It does not change, however, the deeply nestled pain of being on the receiving end of such corrupt wrongdoings.

The taxi ride back to the hotel is silent, and you're thankful for the fact that Chan does not make so much as an attempt to say a word.

On the small table just beside you, there sits a tall, green bottle of wine with no glass to accompany it. You've decided against it, and that drinking straight from the source will suit you just fine as a consolation prize on the balcony tonight.

One of the charms of Los Angeles, you find, is the weather in the evenings. A cool breeze that gently carries over your features and through your hair as you stand against the railing and gaze out at the still-busy streets down below. There's a part of you that wishes to have the will to go out and enjoy the city on the last night here, and with your work responsibilities settled, but the mood of previous encounters still sits heavy on your chest, dampening any hope of enjoying yourself before your flight tomorrow morning.

Though many, long hours have passed since the morning, conversation between you and Chan have been few and far between. You understand it well enough as him, knowing the time and place to engage with a person after being so horrifically wronged, so when the glass door slowly slides open and he brings himself outside to join you, your heavy heart welcomes the intrusion, rather than resents it.

"Hey," he says, barely above a whisper. "Mind if I come out?"

Your smile is thin and straight, hardly able to be called such. "Sure, take a seat."

There's only one wobbly wooden chair next to the table. A ridiculous design from all angles of consideration, but Chan doesn't bother arguing with you and slowly slinks himself down into what it has to offer him.

His hair is damp and freshly toweled off after a shower—loose curls sticking up every which way as if looking for a means to escape from his head. You smile at the sight, appreciate how approachable and kind he appears when he isn't done up in a professional setting like you're used to seeing. There's a realization that has dawned on you at some point during the day, though you have difficulty in pinpointing the precise time, where you come to accept your softening heart towards your colleague.

Perhaps on account of your forced togetherness, perhaps aided by his willingness to diffuse a situation in what might have been the best way that he knew how in the moment. No, he didn't enact violence upon those men in that office space, and yes, it would have been nice to see, but solve something, it wouldn't have, and suppose all you had really hoped to do was escape further escalation as quietly as the situation would allow for, anyway.

"I'm sorry about what happened earlier." Chan is the first to speak up since seated, the first to bring up the whole thing since its having taken place. "It's so fucked. Simple, pathetic men with a chip on their shoulder who can't handle acknowledging that a woman is capable of doing their job, and more."

"Yeah," you sigh, turning towards him in an effort to grab the wine bottle once more. "Guess it's not anything I'm not used to, though it's been a long time since it's so blatantly been shoved in front of my face."

You take a large sip, and then laugh to yourself before continuing on with a similar thought.

"Actually, I guess that's not true, considering our boss pretty much did the same thing right before sending us out on this mission."

Turned to face him now, you watch Chan's features scrunch like he's fighting back the urge to speak his mind plainly, though evidently, it is a fight meant to be lost.

"Look, it's really none of my business what you do," he says, a seemingly rattled hand rushing to run fingers through his hair, "but do you really think it serves you to keep seeing that guy? God, he's such a fucking asshole, airing out your personal business to other colleagues and then waving it around in the office right before sending us on this trip—I wouldn't be surprised if those guys were friends of his, too. Birds of a feather, and all that, you know?"

Another sip, though now you're looking down at Chan with a kind of surprised gratitude.

"No, I don't think it does, though it'll be mighty interesting finding out how navigating those professional waters will work out for me. Suppose that's the position I've put myself in, though."

It's then that Chan stands, all white bathrobe and silly hair that warms your heart as he closes much of the small amount of distance that previously would sit before the two of you. With this new, closer proximity, it's easier to take in the charming slope of his nose and the plump, pretty fullness of his lips.

"The only people in this equation who are wrong for what they've done is him, and those pieces of shit from this morning." He pauses—the both of you do—and for a moment you think each of your breaths to be held in suspension as to what it is that's going to happen next. Chan's eyes remain fixed on yours for so long, and as you feel your temperature rise across your skin and the beat of your heart pick up in some unfamiliar sort of anticipation, you're able to see his gaze flicker down to your lips for just a second before once again settling on maintaining eye contact. "Yeah, you've been kind of an asshole to me, to other people in the office, but that doesn't mean you're deserving of this. No woman is deserving of being subjected to this, regardless of who it is that you decide to sleep with, and for what reason."

If not for his soft demeanor standing right before you, you might believe him to be angry with how he sounds. He must be, though he carries himself well enough as to not let it come out in ugly and unpleasant ways; and as a result, the quick and hard beating of your heart within your chest only picks up that much more. Since when does this guy have such an absurd effect on you?

"I've seen the work you put in, so I'm in a pretty good position to make the call," Chan says, inching himself just ever so slightly closer to you. His voice drops lower now, and accompanying it, the less subtle eyeing of your mouth in relation to his. "You're better than this, you're better than probably all of these blokes here."

"Is that so?" you whisper in response, and though the sentiment is appreciated, you must acknowledge within yourself that the topic of conversation has fallen quite a bit to the wayside in favor of something far more intriguing, something far newer, and more enticing.

"It is." He inches closer yet, only suspected millimeters of distance still held between your mouths. "I'm a pretty good judge of character, you know."

"Says the guy who used to hang out with our boss to get ahead."

Chan grins at your playful combativeness before replying, "Just doing what it takes, I'd have slept with him too if the opportunity were to arise."

Free hand coming up to feather over the softness of his robe, your palm smoothes across his chest and the definition that lies beneath before speaking.

"You know, I'm technically your superior, too."

"Oh?" he chimes, eyebrows perked. "Is that so?"

"Technically," you answer with a small shrug. "I've got you on length of employment, by a couple of years."

Caged in against the railing of the balcony, Chan's lips reside so close to your own that they nearly ghost over the flesh. He smells of mint and rosemary from having been freshly washed—all the more damning for you and your budding curiosity about him.

"Should I give up on trying to sleep with him, then?" Chan asks, a seductive playfulness laced throughout each and every word. "Move on to different, more promising prospects?"

"Only one way to find out."

When Chan finally closes the distance fully and kisses you, it's not as hard, not as rushed as you previously had anticipated it to be. The kiss is careful, a want that resides deeply nestled beneath it but far from the thing that grants unbridled haste and need. His lips are soft, the tug of his teeth at your bottom lip experimental as he tests the waters in regard to what he should or should not be doing, but it's a kind of trepidation that only has you eager for more from him. Your fingers grip tightly into the robe, a light pull in order to have his body more firmly and intentionally against your own, and it must be precisely the sort of green light he had been looking for, because the delicate slide of his tongue to find yours enters into the mix, and now you have no other choice but to accept that your original plan in hostile takeover has ultimately ended up in yet another failure.

Though this one is far more appreciated, and you've got to admit, you're happy to go home tomorrow with this sort of loss sitting on your scorecard.

The day of your return home is long and full of travel, though this does little to stave off all of the thoughts of what could, and might be.

Falling hard and fast has never been you. Through the years you've dedicated to your professional development, you've met people, shared bed and intimacies with people that never were to develop beyond the simple gratification that the two of you granted each other in those moments. You try to think back to the last time you really wanted someone; not physically, not sexually, but as a larger and more intrinsic part of your life.

But you can't, not until now.

Chan offers you a ride back to your home from the airport once the both of you land. The taxi is long and expensive, and while money is of no consequence to you, there is a much firmer inkling within that wishes to have just a little bit more time together that isn't set between the walls of a stuffy office that you now have come to have great disdain for.

Driving on the highway, you roll your window down slightly and enjoy the breeze as it's offered to you. The horizon paints itself with colors of pink, purple, and orange as the sun begins to set; normally something of no interest to you, but now? Now, a newfound beauty in all of it.

You barely know Chan, but what you've learned in a short amount of time has you eager to find out more. You can't help but wonder if he feels the same.

"Hey, uh."

As if reading your mind, Chan pipes up from the driver's side, a nervousness in his voice that you aren't quite familiar with but has you eager to hear more.

"Look, no pressure, yeah? But…think you might be interested in coming back to mine and having a drink, or just to talk?"

Thank all of the powers that be, you think to yourself.

"Yeah, that'd be nice," you say, trying to temper your interest. "Let's do that."

Chan's place is nice. Comfortable, cared for, but cozy.

As you step inside and remove your shoes, you look around to take in your surroundings. The furniture is nice, but not lavishly so. Pretty vases with flowers and hanging picture frames showing memories of friends and family adorning his walls that come off as inviting, and not showy. In juxtaposition, you find yourself thinking back to so many other places that you've visited in the past—homes that feel far less like them, and more like museums. Do not touch. The empty atmosphere of being unlived in.

A cork pops off from a bottle just a bit inside and around a corner, thus, you follow the invitation of it. Chan stands in his kitchen pouring two glasses of wine, and you take a seat at the small, glass, dining room table in wait.

"Workplace romances are forbidden, you know."

Well, that is certainly one way for you to broach the topic.

And while you've been mulling it over the whole day, you had decided upon this as the best route. It's simplistic enough to get the point across, but also light-hearted in a way that it doesn't need to be taken too seriously in consideration by Chan. The concept of an office romance being so broad that there is difficulty in necessarily pinpointing what does, or does not, fit within the definition.

But the two of you have kissed, and there is clearly some degree of interest. So, it applies well enough to be used as the shoe horn.

However, Chan only smiles as he finishes up the task of pouring the drinks. He glances up at you briefly, then carries on with what it is that he is doing before replying.

"Okay," he says. Not giving you much to work with until he comes around the table and sits beside you, wine glasses set onto the tabletop. "Then I'll quit."

"Wait, what?"

You don't expect this answer, and it certainly doesn't make any sense to you, either. Yes, things have been moving relatively quickly in your own mind, and as far as your own feelings are concerned, but has the same been true for him? To this degree, at that?

He shrugs. "I'll quit. It's not a big deal, I don't even like that place, and I sure as hell don't like our boss, so I'll just find another job if it means we can keep doing this comfortably."

Chan punctuates the thought with a sip of his drink, so nonchalant. Like the most absurd thing hasn't just come out of his mouth with incredible conviction.

"I…but…" you stutter out, trying to gather your thoughts. "You barely even know me, and if I'm being honest, it sounds a little crazy to be willing to give up such a huge position at a company just to date a colleague that wasn't even that nice to you only a couple of days ago."

"Yeah, I suppose when you put it like that, it does sound a little crazy." Chan takes another bored sip of wine. "I did tell you I'm a pretty good judge of character, though."

A beat of silence passes between the two of you, and you take it as an opportunity to bring your own glass up and to your lips before speaking into the rim. "Going to give up your job so you can sleep with me."

"Well, not just sleep with you, though I guess that depends on how good it is."

You choke on the sip.

"I'm a big boy, I can make career decisions for myself, even if that decision is to effectively and temporarily blow mine up." Chan's hand finds your thigh beneath the table then, fingertips gently digging into the flesh of the inside. "The rest is up to you, though. We can call all of this off right here, right now, and go to work tomorrow like nothing ever happened."

With the back of your neck heating up and the light prickling of goosebumps across your skin, you set your glass down, inhale deeply, and then look Chan square in the eyes.

"Maybe it's about time you earn that next promotion."

"You know—"

Chan whispers the words out and against your lips, through fervent kisses so quick and needy that he's barely able to say anything, at all. Hands are busy at work to slip the both of you out of your business attire from the day; button down shirts, belts, slacks, and skirts strewn hastily about the hardwood flooring of his bedroom while stumbling desperately towards the bed.

"I never thought my next promotion would be getting myself fired."

"Life is just full of surprises," you say, pushing him to the edge of the bed and gently down on top of it. "Isn't it?"

He doesn't bother responding, however, instead fixated on the way you drop to your knees between his legs and lightly graze a palm over the tenting at the front of his undergarments.

Fingers hooking into the elastic sides, you drop them down his thighs, freeing what it is that you really wish to see of him. You wrap a hand around the thick base of his length, gently stroking him to a fullness that was already so close to being reached. Chan sighs into the touch first, then a light groan that catches in his throat at the feeling of your tongue traversing up the underside of him, only to curve around the tip and then sink down whole to take him in.

One hand comes up to find the back of your head, though there's no force behind the gesture as you work him with your mouth. The wide stretch is enough to already have you feeling the fatigue of such an offering, but the heavenly sound of Chan quickly unraveling beneath you is enough to have you ignoring the ache that comes along with the wonder of such a large cock.

"Fuck, you feel good," he exhales, hips ever so slightly canting up to meet your mouth as you take him deeper in.

You pull off slowly, looking up the length of his perfect, toned body to meet his heavily lidded eyes. Hand still stroking him as you do. "You know what feels better?"

"I can guess."

With that, Chan leans forward and grasps you by the wrist—pulls you up and onto the bed with the kind of strength you couldn't dare fight against if you wanted to. Swapping your positions, you find yourself splayed out against the mattress and with hands already busy prying your thighs apart to accommodate him before you're even able to gather your senses.

A lone finger slides up your wet crease, stilling at the most sensitive part of you. Your body jolts at the feeling, looking down as Chan grins only inches away from the place where you want him the most.

"Would you hold it against me if I told you I wanted to fuck you the moment we landed in LA?" he admits, and punctuates the thought with a languid stroke of his tongue following where his finger has just traveled. "Never would have said anything in a million years but—God, the way you look dressed for work like that? So professional and serious, couldn't stop thinking about what you'd sound like if I just—"

Chan pauses the thought, digs his tongue and the plush of his lips more firmly against your clit and gently offers the sensation of being filled by two fingers simultaneously. You can't help the whine that falls from your mouth, though you make a half-hearted attempt to catch it before it does. One hand of fingers curling into the bedding below, the other finding Chan's hair to wrap the curls up and between; he wastes no further time showing precisely the kind of want that he has quietly carried for you. Dizzying and electric beneath your skin, hips bucking up ever so slightly and without conscious thought to find more of him as he grants it to you.

"I was so mean to you, though," you manage to say through heavy breaths and moans, "would you hold it against me if I told you I considered fucking you to try to ruin you? Professionally, of course."

The sounds that this information musters up and out of Chan can only be described as the most animalistic, primal groan of hedonistic want that you've ever heard.

"Yeah? You're going to ruin me?" he replies, fingers still pressed inside of you and a thumb firmly sitting at your clit. "Might have to revisit who's going to be ruining who."

Disappearing off and to the side, Chan makes such quick work of dealing with the necessities that you almost don't even notice his having done so. He stands afterwards—all but hauls you further up the length of the bed to accommodate his being there as well, and then positions himself between your legs once more as he drags the thickness of his cock through the wetness that awaits him.

"Maybe I sort of like it when you're mean to me, ever consider that?" Chan asks, coy in tone. One hand gripping into the soft flesh of your thigh as to hold you open for him while the other sits firm at the base of his cock, blunt head only slightly pressing at your opening. "Maybe it was all just a plot by me to get you to talk to me like a piece of shit so that I could then, in turn, fuck you stupid like we both want."

And while you would love to fight the point, the steady drive of Chan's hips forward makes for that to be an impossibility. The stretch of him carving out space inside of you for his cock is dizzying, slow and careful as he does so. You whine and sigh out as he pulls your body onto him until he rests fully inside.

"You talk a big game," Chan says then, gently fucking into you as his hands slide down and settle around your hips for leverage. "But at least you can take a big dick too, can't you?"

It's so much happening all at once, your senses in overdrive at the way that he's speaking to you almost condescendingly, paired with how pulled apart from the seams your body feels in order to accommodate his thickness. Once settled into more of a steady, offering drive into you, the friction is mind-numbing—feeling so full that not one single nerve ending finding reprieve from the hug of your body around his cock.

You reach forward with one hand, grasping at a strong, tensed arm that shows beneath the flesh each and every muscle he has worked so hard for. Your nails dig in, and as a result, he fucks you harder, faster; hips snapping roughly against the undersides of your thighs.

"Fuck, Chan, don't—don't stop."

"Yeah? Like it that much, huh?" His grip on your hips gets harder, and the strength in his upper body now fully used to pull your body down and against his cock with every drive. "You're taking it so good, maybe one of these days we'll see how good your pretty body can take it when I fill you up with my cum, yeah?"

And you want to be better than this, stronger than this. Stronger than the way that the words go straight into your already pained and needing arousal—tightening around him, an orgasm now threatening on the horizon much faster than originally anticipated.

You gasp out his name, repeating expletives in droves like a hopeless chant that you have no control of as a knowing smirk paints across his lips and he continues on with the work he is putting into your body.

"Want that," he says, breath shaky. "Want me to come in you. Now who's the one of us earning something?"

Grip into his skin tightening just that much more, your back arches up and off of the bed; thighs shaking and muscles tightening as you grit your teeth through the way that your orgasm shakes you. Chan never stops, the glide of his cock so smooth and easy between your walls that even through the stiffness of your body as you come, the strength that he holds makes it easy to use your form to fuck himself with as he watches you release around him with enamored appreciation.

It doesn't take much more from him, and you feel the way he fucks into you becoming more erratic, more needy and without plan as he aims to find his release. Though you've just finished, and need and want for him still courses through your veins at a lightning quick pace, and thus, when you beg for him in a whine to come on your body, it's a kind of humiliation that you'll have to deal with only after the fact.

But not now.

Chan groans, deep and nestled into his chest as he pulls himself from the warmth of you and pulls the condom off—you watch him stroke over his wet, thick cock by hand quickly—taking in the sight of how the definition of his abdomen and chest flex as he reaches closer and closer to his end.

"Anything for you," he says, though the words are barely audible and totally destroyed in the dryness of his throat. "Little cock-drunk, are you? Don't worry baby, I'll give you what you want."

While his tone is just ever so slightly condescending, there's a sort of sexiness in the confidence of it that does, indeed, drive you even crazier with each and every utterance of it. Chan strokes himself to completion shortly after; free hand coming up to find your clit and carefully rubbing you along with him as he comes. The both of you moan in unison, watching the way his cum paints your chest and stomach in such a lewd fashion before the momentum naturally slows, as does his hand.

Chests heaving, Chan is the first to cough out a laugh in the aftermath of it all.

"Did I get carried away?"

"No," you say through a heavy, exhausted exhale. "No, not at all. Fuck."

"Good?"

You give him a tired look in response, not wanting to give him the pleasure of acknowledging it with words.

Chan appears to accept this with a smile, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own. It's not needy, not full of lust as before. Now, laced within it is something completely different, and not unlike the first time that the two of you shared a kiss together.

You opt out of spending the night together, on account of having work early in the morning and wanting to be proper fresh for the occasion. None of your belongings are here, none of your work clothes—only items hours traveled in and then lightly carrying the musk of two people far too hasty in going at one another.

Still, you can't help but consider what the aftermath of this truly looks like for the both of you in the workplace. Of course, Chan admits a willingness in the moment to quit his job for the opportunity of the two of you exploring this—but how much truth could really be lying within those words?

A man who barely knows you, who has no real reason to be willing to do such a thing for you. What makes you so special, anyway?

Suppose the next morning in the office will tell.

Stepping into the office, you aren't so sure what you expect to find, only that what you have found is most definitely not it.

People are running all about, through the corridors, in and out of cubicle spaces, phones ringing and ringing for what sounds like forever with the sound of shouting into receivers coming from every single direction.

You walk in further, down the hallway towards your own personal office—but just before you make it there, your boss cranes his head out from his own just a bit further down the way and shouts at you for the world to hear.

"You! Get in here, now! What have you done?"

Eyes wide and eyebrows pressed up towards the ceiling, you can't help but wonder to yourself; what have I done?

Once you make it inside, you don't even bother closing the door behind you. Privacy isn't needed now, in part because a new side of you has been unlocked since this trip—a part of you that doesn't care. A part of you that has long since resigned yourself to simply not giving a shit about any of this. Not like you used to, not in the same way that once allowed for it to take, and take, and take from you without ever truly giving back.

You're free now.

"Did you know that Chris quit?" the man shouts, hair tousled and random papers lying thoughtlessly around his desk. "What did you do on that trip? What did you do to him you little—you little…bitch."

These words, once upon a time that is not even all that long ago, might have hurt you in such an inexplicable way, but now, the concept of such a thing seems so unfathomable, so far away from you. The cutting edge of a knife meant to maim, only now it slides off of you effortlessly—this man can no longer hurt you, and soon, you have decided, he can no longer take from you, either.

"I didn't do anything to him, sir." You smile, accompanying the words. "Though I don't think the same can be said for me. I think he's done a lot to me in a very short time, and for that, I am incredibly thankful."

The man pauses, looks at you with an empty stare before his eyebrows firmly knit together in a grimace. He intends to speak, but you are no longer interested in hearing anything from him.

"I quit, too."

Turning back towards the door, you hear the man stumbling over his words in an attempt to get something of use out. For once, it would seem, he is left speechless. The ideal version of him, you can't help but think.

"You can pay out my severance as intended under typical circumstances, and if you don't, I'll send everything to HR and contact a lawyer to take you for everything that you're worth," you add in, glancing back over your shoulder. "And I will win."

"Oh, and thanks for fucking me over so exquisitely on this work trip, I actually think it worked out in everyone's best interest."

Halfway out of the door, you hum, then turn back towards him for the last time with a smug, gratified smirk.

"Well, except maybe for you."

Your hectic surroundings as you leave the office for the very last time feel like nothing but static noise. Inconsequential and unimportant in the grand scheme of things. You don't know what the future holds for you, or for Chan, or for whatever it is that the two of you might have budding and blossoming together. It sort of doesn't matter, which you find to be the beauty of a new beginning.

When the elevator sounds off upon reaching the bottom floor, the metal doors part, and standing in the marble lobby is a familiar face that you're certainly not expecting to see.

Chan stands there before you; all fitted jeans and comfortable black hoodie. A casual side of him that you've not seen before, but are so delighted to be able to that it ignites a fluttering in your chest that perhaps you've not felt since grade school.

"What are you doing here?" you ask.

He tries to fight back the smile, but to no avail. "I knew you were going to quit, so I figured I'd be here to get you when you did."

"I didn't come here this morning with the intention of doing that."

"I'm sure you didn't." Chan swings the loop of his keys around on a finger nonchalantly. "But I still knew you would. Breakfast?"

Three days isn't long enough to say I love you, but there's a previously locked away, fairytale side of you that's certainly thinking it right about now.

"We're both unemployed, should we be going out and getting breakfast?"

Chan tsks at that, "we're top executives in our field, we'll both be head-hunted before we even start looking. Besides—"

Reaching down, Chan takes the hand not holding a briefcase into his own, pointedly fitting fingers in between your own and looking straight into your eyes.

"Can't a guy take his girlfriend out for a waffle?"

Yes, yes he most certainly can.

♡ hope you enjoyed.

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

#bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x you #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x y/n #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #skz x y/n #skz imagines #skz scenarios

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harrysonlylover · 1 year

Text

A Family Guy*

Summary: Your Fiancée’s self control flew out of the window as soon as he heard news concerning your fertility.

Wc: 3k

Trope: Ceo! H

Warnings: Breeding kink .

A/n: i have nothing to say except that i’m ovulating.

Ceo H Masterlist

Harry Styles is a busy man.

He runs a manufacturing company that gained a reputation in the industry without any effort. Pleasing was nurtured from his love for pleasure and lust. He dedicated the past five years to growing his business and making sure it’s known to everyone.

Many CEOs who become important and have hundreds of employees under their hands, tend to sit back and ignore their duties now that they have people to do their job. Harry despised those types of people and would not consider them businessmen.

He loved going to his office every day, it was a reminder of what he achieved and will continue to do. He loves greeting his employees as he walks inside the building, making sure that everyone is pleased with their job and that dissatisfaction is nonexistent.

Working is not something that he dislikes, he managed to remain a respectful gentleman instead of loading up his work on everyone. Perhaps that is why his company is successful, every single person does only what their designated major allows them to do, Harry grants them fair bonuses and vacations and is a nice boss. The safe environment he created was a huge factor in his success.

However, without his own inventions, Pleasing is merely a name. The only thing in the company that is solely managed by him and only him is the sex toys. Pleasing’s fame came from a controversial ad where Harry appeared nude in a photoshoot with only his hand covering his hip. The more he was criticized, the more products he invented.

The ones he first began to make were the regular ones: dildos, straps ins, and vibrators. But everyone noted the shift in his inventions and how he came up with things that radiated pure lust. Little does everyone know that it was all thanks to you.

You and Harry met at his sex club, you had fun along with other members and that night was the best in his life. Not because it was an orgy, he’s been involved in many ones before, but your sexual energy had him mesmerized. He waited for you to return and asked you out, he was apprehensive of your answer and thought you’d prefer to keep things strictly sexual but when you told him you’d only accept if he made you cum in five minutes, he knew that he found his future wife.

After that, you became his inspiration as Pleasing’s name rose to fame and became the number-one sex toy company in the world. He created Panty Vibrators to tease you in public, long-distance sex toys for when he’s travelling, suction toys to watch you wither before him, transparent plugs that suck in his cum so that he can watch how his seed is stored inside of you, butt plugs with all initials but only so he can see ‘H’ sitting pretty at your entrance, a double penetration vibrator that he uses as a ‘warm up’, vibrating dildos that he inserts in one of your holes while fucking the other, and last but not least cotton panties with ‘Daddy’ printed on the ass.

Your sexual energies were connected on a whole other level, you were confident with your body and preferences but still encountered rude hookups from time to time. It’s safe to say that Harry worships you in and out of the bedroom.

Despite being a very sexual person, he also does not fail to show his romantic side every day. You’re glad to say that you have found your man, which is why it wasn’t a surprise when you said yes to his proposal after only one year of dating.

Recently, you’ve been both busy with a tiring schedule that barely allows you to see each other, but that didn’t stop you from at least cuddling at night or preparing breakfast for one another.

Harry is opening his first branch in another country and he’s been preparing for it for over 6 months now. It’s been sitting on the top of his head along with wedding preparations which is why you took over them.

Thankfully you and him communicate well, you also are aware of how much work requires him to be present in his office a lot. Harry vowed to you that after the branch’s opening, he will hire a few people to take over some things and help him run the company. He wants to dedicate his time to you and his future family.

He never tried to hide his desire to have children, in fact, he’s quite obsessed with the idea. He even asks you if the babies would look more like him or you, and what features would they inherit. You could see how he pouts at Bloomingdale when he spots infant clothes with cute little bows.

On the other hand, you can’t wait for him to impregnate you. You never told him that you have a breeding kink but only because you didn’t know of it. To think that he wants to pin you down and fill you up again and again, care for you, and be the reason your belly and breasts swell makes you go crazy.

Your fiancée, a healthy man in body and mind, who treats you like his own queen, knows how to manhandle you only when you want to, and goes down on his knees for you is also the man you’d allow to breed you at any given moment.

The wedding preparations were pushed a few months into Summer so that Harry’s branch opening would be smooth, but that didn’t stop you from taking a few health tests to ensure that all was well before the wedding.

Harry was to return home early tonight as promised, so you finished cooking his favorite dinner, cleaned up, and changed into comfier clothes on time right as he walked into your shared apartment.

“Sweetheart? I need a kiss.” He whined dramatically and you knew that he was going to pretend to be hurt so you could love on him.

“I’m in the kitchen.” You replied with a smile already forming on your face.

Harry followed your voice to the kitchen where you were moving the chicken onto a serving dish. You can feel his body moving towards you until his scent becomes too consuming and his arms wrapped around you.

“It feels so good to come home to you.” He mumbled as he breathed in your hair.

You hummed making sure to not spill the food as you hugged him back. Harry pressed himself on your ass making you let out a gasp. You haven’t had sex in nearly a week which counts as a year for the two of you.

“Baby let’s leave our activities till after dinner.” You spun around to face him, cradling his face in your hands as you pressed a kiss to his lips.

He began helping you by preparing the dining table, cleaning up, and putting everything in its place while you placed the food on the table. Harry spotted a prescription paper near your handbag and got concerned when he saw that it was from the gynecologist.

“Baby, Did you visit Dr. Martins? Are you okay?” He stood next to you with a worried expression as he awaited your response.

“Yes love it was my regular checkup and it happened that my tests came out so we talked and he gave me some vitamins.” You assured him as his jaw immediately relaxed.

“So all is well?”

“Yes, I promise, the vitamins are just a supplement. He even told me that I happen to be more fertile than average.” Harry was relieved to hear your reassurance, however his ears perked up at your last sentence.

“What did you say?” He asked to make sure you’re not pranking him.

“I’m more fertile than average.” You mixed the salad as you repeated your words, forgetting all about Harry’s breeding kink.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head as you told him you could easily get pregnant casually while making food as you stood in his oversized shirt and no panties on.

He slowly walked over to you, with his hands in his pockets and suit adorning his body. His body trapped yours and he removed the spatula from your hands making you catch his attention.

“Did you just inform me that you’re suitable for breeding and expect me to stay quiet about it? Hmm?” His voice immediately shifted into the deep raspy version, the one that tells you he entered ‘Daddy’ mode.

You immediately realized what was going on as a gasp left your lips, you didn’t even bat an eye when the doctor informed you having forgotten all about the breeding kink. Harry stared back at you with darkened pupils as his hand traced your thighs.

“You were planning on hiding from me the fact that this cunt is fertile? That it can take my seed and give me a child in one year?” He cupped your pussy and buried his face in your neck as his tobacco vanilla perfume overwhelmed your nostrils. You had to process what was happening rapidly as you still couldn’t get over how the doctor’s news didn’t ring a bell for you.

“Baby it slipped my mind.” You panted as he pressed hungry wet kisses to your neck, trying not to think about how his clad ring hand can cup your cunt and cover it, reaching up to your ass.

“It’s okay darling, the only thing slipping will be my cock from how much I’m gonna fill you up.” Everything was now falling into place as Harry stimulated your breeding kink and you realized the importance of what the doctor said. You humped against his hand as you clutched onto his toned biceps that are bulging through his Gucci suit.

“Please put a baby inside of me.” You pulled him in as you began feeling submissive and in need of your fiancée to manhandle you.

“You don’t know what you’re in for. I’m gonna give you everything. Do you hear me?” The dinner is now long discarded as Harry picked you up and wrapped your legs around his waist before heading to the bedroom.

You can feel your pussy pulsating and clenching around nothing at the thought of him giving you a child, he’s too indulged in kissing as he lays you down on the silk sheets before taking off your shirt and his suit.

“Baby tell me you want this. Do you want me to get you pregnant?” He whispered with his forehead against yours, seeking your consent knowing that you were off birth control and could be ovulating.

“Yes, I need it .” You almost cried as you felt Harry’s skin on yours with his hard cock leaking on your thigh.

“Oh poor baby, can’t fight your instinct to be a mother, can you? I��m gonna make you the most spoiled mother. Give you my seed whenever you want it, you’ll use my cock and take what belongs to you.” He sucked on your nipples with labored breaths as the wetness in between your thighs was now too much to ignore.

“Harry I want you inside of me, I can’t take it anymore.” You whined in pain trying to reach for Harry’s cock.

“I know I know, let me fill you up.” He guided his cock to your entrance, lubricating the tip with your wetness as his eyes darkened at the thought of your cunt flooding with his cum.

He pushed inside you, making you let out a scream of pleasure at the burn and feeling of fullness. Harry could never be able to get over the feeling of stretching you out, especially when he’s doing it to breed you.

“Fuck baby you have the tightest cunt. Will need to keep stretching you out so you can push our child out.” He groaned as your walls sucked him inside.

With or without prep, you were always ready to take him not minding the burn from his length. Yet this time, you could both feel something so different from all the other times, something was tugging at your heart, as Harry closed any gap existent between you and felt each other skin to skin.

“My girl, make me a father.” He was pleading with every thrust he gave, while you whined beneath him. The heat you were feeling where you’re connected along with Harry’s weight on you, his grip on your hips and tongue lapping at yours made you want to cry. Being overwhelmed with emotions never felt this good.

“I feel so full” You cried out as Harry kissed your temple going deep inside of you.

Harry couldn’t think straight when you told him how fertile you are, he saw nothing in front of him but your bump protruding from your sundress, your breasts swelling and lactating because of him.

His primal instinct came out unintentionally as he plunged inside you easily, as your wetness made him more feral. It didn’t take you long to get wet, and he’s sure you’re soaking the sheets from the sound of your shared arousal echoing through the room.

“I’ll put a ring on your finger and take you out to show everyone that I made you pregnant, fuck you over and over again till I don’t have any cum left inside of me.” He kissed your ring finger as his heart thumped against his chest from how much he loved you.

His plunges only got deeper making you gasp as his tip reached your stomach, while your legs wrapped around his hips prompting him to fill you up. You were both greedy when it came to physical contact, never getting enough of each other.

The veins on his shaft scratched the itch you never knew you had, and your walls kept contracting around him uncontrollably, you were already tight as it was but the squeezing made Harry let out a groan.

“Had to get it deep inside you so it can catch.” He pressed on the skin of your belly moaning as he felt the bulge of his thick cock.

“Fuck me harder... fill me up with your cum.” Your words were incoherent as your brain felt fuzzy from the pleasure.

Usually, Harry would last much longer, there were times when you’d spend the night in each other’s arms as you recharge your energy for more rounds. But now, the pleasure he’s feeling is simply too much for him, just when he thought that his stamina was tough, you casually told him you’re extremely fertile.

“I’ll keep stuffing you until I’m drained.” He let out an animalistic groan as he released thick ropes of cum painting your walls white.

His cum reached deep inside of you, while you moaned at the load he gave you, it was like his cock refused to let you go and was adamant about breeding you. You were sure that his cum is now soaking the sheets, as it leaked from where you were connected to your thighs.

“Fuck Harry that’s a lot.” Your own orgasm washed over your body from the feeling of his cum filling your cunt. Your nails scratched his back unintentionally as you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

Harry arched his back slightly, as he raised his hips and yours in a vertical position before placing a pillow beneath your hips. He prepped kisses on your face in between ‘ I love you’ and ‘Thank you’.

He kept himself buried inside of you, afraid that he’d spill anything. If he wants a baby then he’s going to give you everything. He would never be upset if it took many tries, heck it would mean more breeding sessions. But he can’t help feeding his primal instinct and giving in to impregnating you.

“You can pull out if you want .” You stroked his hair and kissed the pout on his lips which indicates how he doesn’t want to part from you.

He lifted himself slowly and looked down to where you’re connected as he reluctantly pulled out after asking you to ‘squeeze your cunt and hold it in’. The sight before him had him rolling his eyes as he watched his cum covered cock slowly leave your cunt that is swimming with his seed.

You immediately clenched your thighs together but there was simply too much of his load to keep that you didn’t even feel empty when he pulled out. Harry noted how the more you clenched your pussy, the more cum came out and leaked down to your asshole.

“Look at your pathetic cunt filled with my cum, you want to me breed you so bad don’t you?” He caught some of his arousal using his fingers and plunged it back inside your pussy.

Your hands gripped the sheets feeling his creamy cum flood your cunt while he kept fingering you as your shared arousal leaked onto his engagement ring.

“You should go the bathroom baby.” He lifted your body and cradled you in his arms.

“Just a bit more..” You promised him to get up exactly in five minutes as he held you and pressed kissed to your chest.

“I’m gonna spoil you and our baby so bad, buy you everything, and watch as you grow life inside of you. I’ll keep giving you babies for as long as you want, all you have to do is ask and I’ll have the world at your feet.” He mumbled sweet nothings, kissing your engagement ring and smiling at your necklace that’s holding his initial.

Harry was over the moon at the thought of starting a family with you, he thanked you for being the woman of his dreams and already the most beautiful mother. All that he owned in life whether property or assets was irrelevant when it came to you.

After all, Harry Styles is a busy man, but never for his family.

Taglist: @prettythingsworld @slut4marvelmenn @fullofstyles @cherrycokeslay @wandas-lawyer @tbsloneely @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @missmielyhoran @harryssideboob @harrysficreblog @itslottiehere @hsonlyangelxo @gem1712 @adachhi @greivingfortheliving @grapejuicebluesrry @summertime-pills @lhhrryismyhome @marzhshaim @harrystylessslut @keepdrivingkisses @rideeonstyles @swiftmendeshoran @matildasatellite @a-strange-familiar @strwbrrydaydreams @babyyangel111 @soblavk @straightnogayhs @awesomenavy

If your tag is red, it didn’t work :(

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luneaticlab · 4 months

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AMORE (Chapter 1)

Pairing - CEO!Jungkook x Secretary!reader (female)

synopsis- Never in a million years you thought you'd end up with your boss, in bed.

Word count- 1.4k

IMPORTANT NOTE - Hey guys, this my first fic. I promise I'll improve. love and feedback are always welcomed.

•I do not own any of the pictures•

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

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

"come again?"

hesitantly, you repeated the words you said to your bestfriend a few seconds ago "The last time i got laid was 13 months ago..?"

"Girl, are you fucking serious?" Lena, your bestfriend not-so-aggresively threw her hands in the air.

"What's wrong with it? You know i'm not the type to have one night stands and shit" you justified defensively, delicately caressing your 5 month old persian cat, fluff.

"Dude you are in your twenties, you are hot, rich and single, what's wrong with having some fun before you settle down?" all you did was roll your eyes, ready to nag her about hygiene during sex.

"Don't tell me you still have a crush on your jackass boss" alice appeared from your kitchen, a cup of hot choco keeping her hands warm.

you were taken aback, yes, you did have a crush on your not-so-jackass boss, maybe you still do, no one knows, you are too busy with work to think about that. But something about him just makes your thighs clench.

His thick thighs which you would die to sit on, his tiddies who always threaten to come out(thanks to the buttons which do not let them), and his freaking jawline which you want to hold so bad when he kisses you.

Just to be clear the chances of this happening is 0.01% .

He's the typical rich, young, hot bachelor desired by multiple women and owned by none. Somehow you always managed to keep a very professional relationship with him so far. But what's life without some thrill?

"Jeon jeongguk? go ahead , have sex with him then. A rich man is a rich man" Lena suggests as if she's telling you to pick out some roses from the neighbour's garden.

"sure, find me a now job by tomorrow then" Lena chuckles at your reponse.

"Girl, its not that hard, he's a man and he might have needs too, if you really want him on the top then maybe wear some sexy clothes at work, you guys see each other everyday"

"Yeah yeah i'll think about it" you shrugged off the topic, not wanting to discuss it further.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。

"fuck!" You finally found your release , turned the vibrator off, took a shower, slouched on your bed releasing a lazy sigh

Yes ,the vibrator did wonders when you got it for the first time, but you've become too used to it, you knew you needed more and by more you meant jungkook's dic-

you pushed your sinful thoughts out of the way and forced yourself to sleep.

:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:.。..。.。o○:

next day , 7.39 a.m

You got out of the shower, fresh and clean. Done with the skincare and your usual makeup (nude lips are mandatory!) .you were about to pick your grey sweatshirt, Lena's words resonating in your ears.

Fuck it, it's now or never.

you put the sweatshirt right where it belonged. Took out a white tube top which covered half of your tits, wore a black trouser matching with the blazer of the same colour of the trouser. A black nano belt bag from celine completing your look. Quickly wearing your jimmy choo high heels, you stepped out of your apartment, you felt confident.

You were aware of the stares you were getting at the office, you weren't surprised, not your fault you look good with a minimum effort.

You spot your coworker Diana at the cafeteria, she waves at you , her look telling you that she's got something for you

"Hey y/n, I've completed the list of the guests we are going to invite at the company's gala, Do you mind passing it to Mr.Jeon? I got some last minute work to do." She asked holding your hand

Bingo

"Sure, why not , I was about to give him his espresso anyway." you smile at her politely before taking the file.

Quickly making your way upstairs, you fic your hair before you knock his door.

'"Come in"

"Good morning Mister Jeon, the list for the guests for our company's gala dinner has been finalized." You said as you placed his espresso and the file on his table.

He looked up to see you, "Alright, thank you y/n, I hope you didn't forget we have to go to daegu today."

You caught him stealing a glance at your chest.

"Ofcourse sir" you smiled curtly before leaving his office, swaying your hips on purpose while doing so.

Jeongguk and you had to go to Daegu today for the monthly inspection of the company's factory there.

Being Jeongguk's secretary was undeniably challenging, but the salary was enough motivation to continue doing your job.

・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜・。゜・。・o゜

3.39 p.m

"Mister Jeon, we are ready to leave." You said as you peeked out your head from the door into his office.

He nodded while fixing his blue Ralph Lauren coat as he walked past you , you followed him behind, making sure everything is on the right place.

You looked at him from behind, good Lord he was so damn hot then you looked at yourself. You guys would make such a power couple in your opinion.

"Did you have lunch sir?" You asked knowing he might not have eaten given the fact that he absorbs himself too much in his work once he starts.

"I didn't have time to"

"I figured, I ordered chipotle for you, will you be okay with a burrito bowl ?" Jungkook liked having light meals on work days and he gets carsick easily so chipotle was the best option.

"Yes, thank you y/n i appreciate it." He said gratefully, flashing you a small smile which you could write a whole thesis on.

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

You were driving the car and the ride was smooth, you guys talked about work related stuff. Until,

"How have you been lately, y/n?" Jeongguk asked out of nowhere.you glanced at him for a second before replying "I've been good, pretty much the same since 2 years. working on weekdays, staying at home on the weekends. Oh, and I've got a new roommate – a furry one. Adopted a cat a few months back. It's nice having someone waiting for me at home, you know?"

You have no idea why you are giving a detailed explanation instead of the typical 'I'm doing good' but it is what it is.

"Any special someone in the picture?" He asked, a hint of uncertainty laced in his voice.

You glance at him again in surprise before refocusing on the road, this guy is really picking his moments. "No special someone right now sir, how about you?" He started this.

He chuckled a little,"Not at the moment, not into relationships anyway."

well damn, at least it was worth the try.

You catch jungkook looking at you a lot of times during the ride.

"We have reached, sir." You both get out of the car and head towards the factory.

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

7:51 p.m, Daegu.

It was pouring cats and dogs.

"I think we should book a hotel and stay there for the night". Jungkook suggested while looking up. All of the workers were leaving and driving in this crazy rain is dangerous.

"But i don't have any spare clothes."

"Should we buy them on the way?" Jungkook asked finally looking at you.

"I think we should."

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

You guys found the nearest hotel, and went to your respective rooms.Jungkook chose a package of 1 night+ dinner because you guys didn't eat anything after lunch.

"Let us change then meet at the dinner hall yeah?" Jungkook said looking at you, your clothes were a little drenched, the droplets on your half-exposed boobs were visible and he can see your bra underneath the white tube top.

"Sure , sir"

You guys literally shoved your faces in the food because the meal was ten out of ten and ya'll were hungry as hell.

When you entered the elevator, jungkook looked at you for a second before speaking " Good day today"

You smiled at him. Damn that smile, he couldn't control himself , he brought his face closer to yours, literally a gap of 2 centimeters between. "Can I kiss you?" He asked , it came like a whisper.

"Please" You practically whimpered.

Just like that, his lips were on yours.

To be continued

#jungkook bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook

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nudityandnerdery · 9 months

Text

[Image Description: A series of sixteen tweets by John Rogers @jonrog1 that say:

1) A moment at the Teamsters/UPS rally this morning clarified our current struggle with the studio CEO's (among other bosses). Teamsters got a lot of wins, but one of the main sticking points is the pay for the 65% of local UPS workers who are part-time …

2) If you read the SAG-AFTRA demands, a truly STUNNING amount of their points involve protecting background actors, and trying to improve conditions for the 87% of their union who makes less than $26,000 a year.

3) As WGA members know, this is not a strike for the showrunners. We're trying to fix the fact the the current younger generation of writers can't even afford housing and their pathway to advancement has been cut off.

4) Like … folks, I'm fine. There are maybe two proposals in there that affect me. I'm walking in 90% weather and losing over 50% of my income for the year because I want the younger writers to get what I got at this stage of their careers.

5) Our unions and the CEO's and various negotiators have a fundamental cognitive disconnect. Because CEO's types only succeed by FUCKING THEIR PEERS.

6) Zaslav, Iger , those types of execs, etc have never gone without so a fellow exec or a junior exec could thrive. A fellow exec failing is the moment to use your own leverage to advance past them, if not destroy them.

7) Part of it is the money but part of this, I think, is a genuine inability to grasp even the concepts of any labor action. Because it is always other-directed.

8) So many people treat capitalism as part of nature red in tooth and claw, but it's not. It's a human construct. There are different rules you can play by -- but not if you want to win.

9) The greatest gift capitalism ever granted was the ability to validate selfish behavior as a virtue because that's "just what's necessary, I don't make the rules!" (Look ma, it's reification!)

10) This is where I usually point out that Adam Smith wrote that you have to overpay workers to keep your labor force up, and you need to take into account the psychic damage of capitalism to the workers, and that admiring the rich is the greatest source of moral corruption …

11) But I'll stave off that diversion to just land with … this is a discontinuity of attitudes which I think was once breached by the fact that management USED to come from people who loved building their company or their trade, even if they eventually did management shit.

12) Now, even that thin thread of SYMPATHY (Adam Smith joke, get it? People?) is gone. The CEO's are working off a different scorecard, practically and morally. We're not just playing by wildly divergent rules, our lives and careers are DEFINED by those wildly divergent rules.

13) To them, we are IN FACT being "unreasonable", as our behavior does not make sense in their moral framework. They don't think they're being evil, they think they're playing by the actual rules, and we're nuts.

14) There's not great conclusion to this, other than to note that the bit about making writers homeless was described as "cruel but necessary" because they genuinely don't understand the meaning of cruel, because they are always on the other side of the power dynamic.

15) And if they're ever NOT on the top of the power dynamic, they're not suffering, they're dead. They are un-people in their own eyes.

16) These men are not irrational, but they are deranged. This isn't about money, it's about identity. And in a fight about identity … they will set billions on fire.

Because they can always get more money. But they'll never shed the stink of losing to their lessers."

end of image description]

#strike #sag aftra #wga strike #ups strike #john rogers #sag strike

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jishyucks · 5 months

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My Boss Followed Me Home for Christmas — pjs

‣ pairing: CEO!park jay x reader

‣ genre: fluff, coworkers-to-something more?, traces of hurt/comfort

‣ wc: 4.0k

‣ summary: Your ability to empathize was a blessing and curse. When you see your boss sitting alone in his office on Christmas Day, you can’t help but invite him to your family party. And when he actually says yes, you’re kind of stuck regretting the offer simply because you’re not sure how this is going to turn out.

‣ warnings: none I don’t think?, implications that Jay doesn’t have the best family (they’re just realllly busy, nothing too bad), reader has a big family, implied that reader is smaller/shorter than Jay

‣ an: 3rd in the True Love Gave to Me Series! I honestly enjoyed writing this so much (hence why it’s way longer than I wanted it to be),, the filipino rly jumped out in this with the big family and the games I’m sorry (>///<) it’s honestly just what I’m more familiar with so it was easier for me to write! Anyways,, ENJOY THIS AND THANKS FOR READING!!

Series Masterlist

It was weird seeing the office so empty.

You weren’t constantly dodging bodies on the way to your desk, you’re not overstimulated by the sounds of the printers and the ringing phones, and the place did not seem as suffocating as you usually make it out to be.

But it was only empty because it was Christmas. There was absolutely no one here and you were only here to pick up your work agenda, which made complete sense why the office was so much more appealing.

You wished it was usually like this.

Your phone rings the second you reach your desk. When you go to check who was calling you, you find your mother’s contact photo blown up on your screen and you answer it almost right away.

“Hey mom.”

“Honey, where are you? Are you on the way?” You can hear voices in the background at the other end of the line and you’re guessing your family just arrived at the party.

“I am,” you say, “I just dropped by the office to pick something up. I’m guessing I’ll be there in around fifteen to twenty minutes?” You lean against your desk. You realize your agenda is not sitting on your desk so you figured it was somewhere inside it.

“Okay, hon,” your mom acknowledges your reply, “Take care on the way here, the roads are slippery.” She says something to someone next to her, and before you can even reply she hangs up.

You tuck your phone into your jacket pocket and pull your desk cabinet open, immediately finding your agenda on top of everything. You mutter a 'there it is' before you push the cabinet back shut, turning to leave.

It’s before you leave that you notice the light on at the end of the long hallway to the left of your desk. It was a hallway rather hidden from the main office, so you hadn’t taken notice of it at first, but now that you did take notice, curiosity had gotten the best of you.

Because who in the world was here on Christmas?

You’d take a good guess and say it was a caretaker, but you didn’t think any of the caretakers were even paid well enough to be here on a major holiday. So if it wasn’t a caretaker, who was it?

You quietly make your way down the hallway, passing empty offices along the way. Then once you’ve just about reached the seemingly occupied room, you halt and use your neck to peek around the corner.

A gasp almost audibly leaves your lips when your eyes catch sight of your boss sitting alone at his desk. His brows are furrowed as he stares up at his screen, eyes looking rather intently at whatever he was working on. You can tell that he didn’t expect anyone to catch him at the office, dressed in a simple designer hoodie.

You hate how one of the first thoughts that enter your mind is how attractive the man looks just sitting there and typing. But you were human, after all.

“Sir?”

Jay jumps at your voice, swearing under his breath, “Y-Y/N? What are you doing here?” His cheeks heat up in embarrassment, he makes brief eye contact with you before he avoids it altogether.

“I was just,” you hold up your agenda, “Picking this up… what are you doing here, sir? Don’t you have any plans for Christmas?” Sure your reply seemed a bit inconsiderate because in the back of your mind you knew not everyone celebrated Christmas or the holidays… but your boss had a mini Christmas tree sitting at the corner of his desk, so you figured he did celebrate the season in some way.

Jay’s still slightly taken aback, frozen in his seat as he studies the random lines on his computer, “I… don’t.” You watch the way his lips flicker into a frown for a quick second before he plasters a fake smile, “But it’s okay! I have a lot of work to do anyway for Wednesday! Better to catch up befo—”

“Sir, I know I don’t really have a right to say this, but you should take the day off and relax,” you frown.

Jay is unsure how to reply. He sits in his seat for a few brief moments and his mouth bobs open and closed like a fish. Cause, frankly, how can he reply to that when he wants to do anything but go home to an empty house? Why did it have to be you who had to catch him?

If it were anyone else, they would have left him alone.

If it were anyone else, it would have been easier to send them off with some dismissive reply he can muster up in his head.

“I don’t really want to go home,” Jay says quietly. It’s so quiet that you almost don’t catch it. But you do. And because you do, you catch the way his lips remain downturned. He just thinks you can’t see it behind the miniature Christmas tree.

You feel a tickling feeling in your chest and without thinking, you ask, “Do you want to come to my family’s Christmas party tonight?” It’s funny because you don’t regret your question (well, just a bit, but that’s beside the point). In fact, a small part of you was actually glad that your mouth had decided to choke the question out before you could hold yourself back.

Jay gulps. He wasn’t against it, but wouldn’t it be odd for him to come?

“I don’t want to be a bother.”

You take a step forward so that you can now clearly see him. His eyes were running over the keys of his keyboard over and over, trying to keep himself from looking at you. “You won’t be a bother. My family’s pretty big so there’s a lot of space.”

“It’s really okay, Y/N, I’m fine spending time here.”

“Sir, I promise you, it’s fine,” you press, “My other family members bring guests all the time and we don’t care.” You take another step forward and now it was harder for Jay to avoid your gaze.

He’s forced to look up at you and that was his mistake. Jay feels his chest explode with warmth because he now just realized that you were dressed more casually than he was used to. You were wearing a pair of baggy jeans and underneath your long coat, he could see Rudolph printed on your ugly Christmas sweater. He admits to himself that you looked adorable, but to remain professional he keeps that thought at the back of his head.

“If… if you insist,” Jay replies slowly, unsure whether or not he should turn his computer off

Your eyes light up, “Well, I’m going there right now. You can follow me to my house.”

“Right now?” Jay’s hesitant to move, hand frozen on his mouse, “As in right this second?”

The answer was yes. Right that second.

The next thing Jay knew, he was following you up the stairs of your front porch and he was not even sure how to act. He was a CEO for God’s sake. Why was he nervous about joining you for a Christmas party when he’s always up at the front of a business room speaking? It wasn’t like he was meeting your family as your boyfriend or anything (and it for sure wasn’t because he wanted to make a good impression on your family…).

“Where are my damn keys…” You’re standing at your front door, wrist-deep and rummaging through your small bag. Jay awkwardly stands behind you, teetering back and forth on the balls of his feet like a little kid.

Before you can even find your keys, the door swings open to reveal a short older woman with a kind smile. Her eyes light up at the sight of you and when she exclaims “Honey! Finally!” Jay immediately figures that the woman is your mom.

“Come in, come in,” she quickly says, “It’s cold out there. Oh! And you must be…?” Your mom leans over to look at Jay who’s unsure whether he should actually move.

You speak up for him, “Um, mom, this is my bos—”

“I’m Jay,” he interrupts, “I’m–uh–Y/N’s coworker and friend.”

“His family is–uh–busy for Christmas so I invited him,” you quickly add, “I hope that’s okay with you, mom.”

You look back at him with a questioning look but he quickly dismisses it, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“It’s no problem, the more the merrier! And oh, just call me Auntie! There’s really no need for those kinds of formalities,” your mom laughs. Then she looks over at you with a smirk ghosting her lips but she stops herself, “Everyone’s just waiting to eat.”

You let your mom walk ahead and you stay back, “Sir, what—”

“Y/N, we’re not at work,” Jay points out. And hearing you call him sir was sort of irritating him right now, “It’s… Just call me Jay… besides you invited me into your home right?” Then he repeats what your mom said just moments ago, “No need for those kinds of formalities.”

You can’t help but laugh, side-eyeing him, “Fine, if you say so, Jay.”

You lead Jay into the house, and he’s greeted by your family members sprawled out all over the living room and kitchen. When you said your family was big, you weren’t kidding. He had no idea how he was supposed to approach this situation.

When Jay turns the corner, trailing you closely, he’s met with a room full of people, all dressed in ugly Christmas sweaters like you were. A few of your older relatives were sitting at the dining table chatting about something seemingly interesting. At one corner of the nearby living room, right by the Christmas tree, were kids shaking presents, trying to take good guesses as to what they were receiving this year. And huddled on the couches was a group of young adults around your age—he’d guess they were your cousins—and they were having their own conversation, too.

And though Jay should be feeling out of place because not only does he not know anyone but you, he wasn’t wearing an ugly Christmas sweater like everyone else was, he simply doesn’t.

The atmosphere felt welcoming—that was his first impression. And he couldn't have been happier when you started introducing him to everyone, making him genuinely feel welcome.

Your aunts and uncles gazed at him with large eyes, curious about who this boy was despite you clearly introducing him as your friend. And when you brought him to meet your cousins last, you were surprised that Jay easily clicked with your guy cousins. It was like you were seeing a whole different side of your boss, one that proved that he was your age and not the uptight CEO you face at work.

“The dress code for this year was ugly Christmas sweaters,” you say once you both settled with your cousins, “But I’m guessing you already noticed.” Jay sits cross-legged in the empty spot next to you.

Jay nods, “Your family all seem so nice.”

“I’m glad you think that,” you grin, “I take pride in that, if I’m being honest.” Then you realize that the topic of family might be a bit too sensitive for Jay and you try to change it, “Anyways, after dinner, we play games. You better join.”

“I’ll try?” Jay questions. You can tell he’s growing more comfortable with the situation, but he’s still trying to keep himself composed.

“Trying is better than nothing,” you shrug, “But I promise you you’ll have a lot of fun.”

There’s a brief silence between the two of you and Jay has this sudden urge to thank you. Because, well, it made sense in this situation. He could wait ‘till the end, but he was itching to just shower you in thank yous.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“This took me a while to find deep in your dad’s things but I finally found it!” Your mom comes out of nowhere, arms slipping between the two of you to reveal an ugly sweater, “I know your dad had another from years ago!”

“I’m confused,” you say.

“For Jay!” Your mom holds the sweater out for Jay to take, a bright smile stretched across her face. She jokes, “Don’t want you sticking out like a sore thumb in pictures. Why are you wearing black on Christmas, hm?”

You almost facepalm, seeing your mom treat Jay like he was your boyfriend. Sure, it was great she was trying to make Jay feel even more included, but the gesture seemed so… odd to be doing it with just a friend of yours. You’re hoping that Jay isn’t getting the wrong idea because, frankly, it would be embarrassing if he did.

“Oh… t-thank you auntie…” Jay gulps and you see his eyes flicker toward you. He wonders if you think it was weird for him to take it. But he didn’t want to say no to your mom, not when she went out of her way to find the sweater, “I’ll put it on right now.”

“You better,” your mom jokes one more time before leaving you both and back to your other relatives.

You watch as Jay goes to take his hoodie off, revealing a white t-shirt. At first glance, you don’t process what’s printed on his shirt, but when he fumbles with the sweater, you realize that it’s an old Christmas shirt from when he was a kid. The text reads Christmas 2010 and the picture is a picture of him and his parents. You figured that the shirt was probably his dad's.

You smile sadly, eyeing the shirt as he throws on the sweater. You don’t notice, but the corners of Jay’s lips lift upward into a small, subtle smile. He looks up at you, “How does it look?”

“It looks good,” you say, “A little bit big, but it’s fine.” You can see the way the sleeves bunch up at Jay’s wrists. He looked rather adorable in the sweater (and again, you don’t say anything).

The games began soon after it was established that everyone was finished digesting their food.

One of your older cousins, who had planned the games, started the games with the kids first. You secretly knew it was just a tactic to get them tired for later, hoping that they’d settle while the adults and older kids played their own games.

Then when that was done and over with, she moved on to the first game that you and Jay could participate in—the island game. The premise of the game was to step onto a sheet of gift wrapping paper and, along with a partner, fold and manipulate it so that they both could stand on it without touching the floor.

“We need six groups of two!”

Two by two, you watch your cousins as they group together, stepping up to get the secret prize sitting in a gift bag.

“You two should join!” your mom urges, “What fun is it just watching? Jay, you must be clever right? Go try!”

Afraid to say no to your mom, Jay turns to you, “I’ll do it if you do it… you said it’d be fun, right?”

You hesitate for a quick moment. Yes, the games were fun, but you were talking about the relays or the simple, single-player games. You weren’t sure if you wanted to play with Jay, simply because it involved having to get all up close and personal with your partner.

You look around and notice that a handful of your family members are waiting for you and Jay to join, and that pressure is something you can’t take. You nod and plaster a smile on your face, “Right! Let’s go!”

Nervously you walk to an empty sheet sitting flat on the ground and Jay follows you, standing at your side as your cousin runs over the rules. You wait for Jay to realize the mistake he’s made by suggesting to play, but instead of a look of worry, he’s smiling. He looked rather excited, a hint of determination ghosting his face.

Before you both know it, the game begins. The first round was the easiest—you both had simply stood within the two-feet by two-feet sheet of paper. But as each round passes, the area that you and Jay can stand on gets smaller and smaller. And as the area shrinks, so does the space between you two.

You’re so close to him that you can smell his perfume and you can feel his breath against your forehead. Your heart betrays you because you can feel it pounding against your chest. You only hope that Jay doesn’t hear or feel it.

You look down at the folded sheet of paper. It was less than half of its original size and something is telling you that the next round was going to be difficult.

Your cousin cues for the next round to begin and you and Jay get off the paper to fold it. He mumbles, “I don’t think we can both stand on this. Or both our feet at least.”

“We can each balance on one foot,” you suggested. You test out the size and place your foot on it. There was barely enough room for two feet.

When Jay notices this he shakes his head, “I don’t think that would work… we’d just fall over. I think I’ll have to carry you.” His suggestion makes you look up and you find him staring back, “You can get on my back?”

“Can you balance on one foot with me on your back?” you question. It’s suddenly getting hot in the room. Was it your sweater? You hope so. You don’t want to dwindle on the thought any longer.

He nods, “I think I can.”

“O-Okay,” you say quietly. You glance at the other teams and see that your cousins are on the brink of tears trying not to laugh because if they laughed, they’d lose balance with the ridiculous poses they’re somehow pulling.

Jay kneels down, one knee touching the ground before he gestures for you to get on. And you do, though you get on carefully because you’re still not processing the situation. Once you hop on his back, Jay gently guides your legs around his torso and he pulls your upper body closer to his back with a tug on your sleeve. When you are secured on his back, he easily stands up.

Now you’re afraid that he can feel the way your heart’s beating against his back. There was absolutely no way he couldn’t.

“It’s easier for me if you’re like this,” he says to you. You nod even though you’re right behind him, “Stay as still as you can.”

Jay steps onto the folded piece of paper, waiting for your cousin to tell the teams that it is time to hold positions. Once she had given the signal, Jay raised his left leg in the slightest, balancing on just his right foot.

Almost immediately, your cousins fail to keep themselves from touching the ground and, somehow, you and Jay are the only ones left standing. You don't process it until it is announced.

“Congratulations to Y/N and Jay for being the first adult winners of the night!” Your cousin cheers. You notice that she has tears in her eyes from laughing as she approaches you both with the prize. A bunch of the older adults are clapping in amusement, heads shaking from the entertainment.

You quickly jump off of Jay’s back, and out of habit, you grab his hand, shaking it out of joy. You repeat a ‘we won’ a couple of times and Jay couldn’t help but beam at the string of events, watching as you receive the present for the both of you.

Jay has never in his life played party games at a family party. Sure his family was too busy to even have parties like this, but even if they did have the time to plan out a party, his family was too small for these games to even be considered fun.

And if he were being honest, this party was the most fun he’s had in so long.

“What is it?” Jay leans in close to you, trying to catch sight of whatever’s in the bag. You both have settled on the couch while the next game begins.

You pull the prize out to reveal two big bags of your favourite expensive holiday chocolate and your eyes gleam at the sight. You drop one bag and then hand the other to Jay, “Here you go. That was fun!”

Jay nods, a smile settling upon his lips. “It really was.” The adrenaline from the game is beginning to vanish and he’s coming down from his high. “Let’s play the next one?”

When it was getting late, Jay decided that it was time to leave. It wasn’t like he was leaving to escape from the party, because truly, he had spent so much time on games and picture-taking that his energy was beginning to diminish. He’d love to stay, but he knows that tomorrow, he’ll have to be back at the office doing work.

He wonders how this night will change the way you guys are in office. Surely, he’ll keep his professionalism at work, but he can’t just pass by you tomorrow and act like you didn’t willingly invite him into your home to spend Christmas with your family.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, sir!” You say at the doorway, “I hope you had fun.” Jay is silent for a few long moments and you can’t help but call out to him, “Sir?”

“S-sorry, I just started getting you used to calling me by name that it threw me off,” he replies sheepishly.

“Oh… um, I’ll call you whatever you’d like.”

“When we’re out of the office, just call me Jay okay?” Jay shuffled forward and he’s closer to you now, “It’s more fitting, don’t you think?”

You nod and you huff out a large puff of air that shows up in front of you, “Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then, Jay.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N,” Jay echoes. There's a lingering feeling in the cool air that engulfs the both of you. You couldn't quite put a name to it, but it was a nice feeling. It was warm. Then, before you know it, Jay finds himself giving you a hug. And not one of those half-assed side hugs, but one that you could easily tell he needed.

You hesitate at first, but then you slowly return the gesture.

After what felt like a while, he stepped back, “S-sorry I... I'm just really thankful for tonight. Tell your family thank you, too.” There’s so much more that Jay wants to say, but for now, this will simply suffice.

“It’s nothing,” you say, still slightly stunned, “I expect to see you next year, then.”

One corner of Jay’s lips jerks up and he laughs, “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

When Jay leaves, you turn back to rejoin your family, who’s looking at you expectedly.

“What?”

“Did you guys kiss?” One of your cousins joke.

You brows furrow and you burst out laughing, “Ha! No way!” What the hell was this guy even talking about? You and Jay kissing? He was your boss for god’s sake. Isn’t that like… forbidden or something?

You try to change the topic because the thought was mind-boggling and you didn’t want them to catch the way your cheeks and your ears were heating up at the thought. “He says thank you,” You say and move to sit next to them, “And I told him he should come next Christmas.”

Your mom betrays you, “As your boyfriend?” Of course she would say that.

Another laugh leaves your lips and you shake your head, “I don’t think that’ll ever happen.”

(Or so you think.)

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @hoonieji @niinjo @dinonuguaegi

an: ughhhhhh I really love this pair (ಡ᎔ಡ) it would be soso cute to see more of them but I can'tttt I need to write the other ones,, pls leave comments cause I love hearing your thoughts!,, n e ways I hope you enjoyed this! Renjun is up next, so please look forward to his!

#Enhypen #enhypen imagines #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #park jongseong #enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #jay imagines #park jongseong imagines #park jongseong scenarios #Kpop #kpop imagines #my writings #enhypen x reader #Jay x reader #Park jay x reader #Park jongseong x reader #Jay park x reader

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flordeamatista · 1 year

Text

𝗔𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀

pairing: ceo!silverfox!ari levinson x personal assistant!reader

concept:. One kiss will ignite all this, which will light my darkest fire for your body

word count: 3.6k

warnings: silver fox Ari, bossy boss, business trip, hot tub love time, fireplace love time, p -in- v, a tiny bit of man—ipulation edging, fing- ering, o-ra-l (f receiving), tiny wine body painting, sweet kisses, pu-ssy slap-ping, soft power imbalance, dumb-ification, praise, Sir k-ink, dirty talk, spanking, nickname ──(Princess, Sweetheart)

a/n: @navybrat817 When I was dancing with my other wips, I remember when you dropped this sweet silverfox Ari, leaving me daydreaming for months. I am grateful for you dropping him off so I can write him a beautiful story.

@lookiamtrying @/writing-for-marvel @sunshinebuckybarnes, thank you for letting me rant for months about him and brainstorm ideas.

lovely betas: @lunarbuck and @writing-for-marvel

the cute gif/line divider/moodboard made by me

thank you @jen-with-a-pen for making the silverfox ari image on the second moodboard.

Masterlist

As time passes, each note rests on each string.

Your eyes are captivated by the clouds you pass. One sky, one trip, and countless cloud formations.

The clouds reminded you how far away you were from your real destination, and you could only remember how you got on his plane.

“You wanted to see me, Sir?” you asked as you entered his office. He nodded and motioned for you to take a seat. “I have some important news to share with you,” he said. “We’ve just been awarded a large contract from a new client. There is a crucial business event next week that you must attend with me." Ari keeps typing on his computer without looking at you.

"I can't go," you say.

Ari stops typing and looks up. "Why not?" he demands.

"I have my holiday, and I will be out of the country for a while."

“That is part of your job. You are expected to attend. You can pack up your things at the end of the day if you are unable to attend this business trip."

You look desperate in his eyes as you say, "My vacation was approved months ago."

He pauses for a moment, then says, "I'm sorry, but this business trip is mandatory. You will have to postpone your vacation."

“I have given you access to my schedule. Do you mean you didn't read what was coming up? ” he asks in a dead tone. He is trying to point out that he had been clear with his scheduling and that it was your responsibility to be aware of what was coming up and plan accordingly.

As you leave Ari's office, you feel frustrated. You feel your heart sink as you think about all the time and money you’ve already spent preparing. You have been looking forward to this vacation for months, and now it seems like you will have to postpone it indefinitely.

Ari Levinson's name has become so familiar that nobody can escape it. He is a top influencer in the business world and is often a keynote speaker at industry events. His advice and insights are sought after by some of the most successful companies around the world. His reach is unparalleled, and he is an inspiration to many.

From small startups to large corporations, Ari Levinson has been able to make an impact on nearly every sector. His success story is one that continues to be shared and celebrated as he continues to break boundaries in the business world. It would make many human bodies swoon to gaze into his lustful blue eyes. He is a true testament to the power of ambition and hard work.

Ari is a role model for entrepreneurs and business professionals who are looking to make a difference. His story is an inspiration to many who aspire to greatness.

Ari Levinson is an icon.

However, you see the rude, uncaring, sexy heartless boss.

He often puts profits before people and shows zero regard for those he works with. His attitude contrasts starkly with his public image.

You and the hot silver fox icon are stuck in Switzerland in a cabin alone. This was supposed to be your vacation since he told you that you had to join him. You were supposed to be at the beach enjoying the sun with a drink in your hand in the Bahamas, not sitting next to a fireplace freezing your behind off.

You turn to him and ask why he dragged you here.

A mischievous glint appears in his eye as he tells you that success in this world comes from working until you can earn money while you sleep. "And I intend to show you just how to do that," he says with a smirk.

In the end, you will never be able to recall the wisps of a dream because he took a weekend full of sun and pleasure from you, and now you are flying into the cold.

He stands tall, proud of his body, gazing out the window, letting the cold winter air fill his lungs. His muscles tense up as he takes a deep breath in, his eyes focused on the horizon. He is ready to take on whatever the night might bring.

His eyes are shut tight as he savors the warmth of the fire. His feet are planted firmly on the ground as his hands reach for the stars. He is in his own world as he basks in the glory of the fire.

He takes another deep breath and turns back to the fireplace, determined to make it up to you. He adds a few more logs to the fire, watching the orange and yellow flames flicker against the night sky. He knows that he would do anything to make you happy, and he hopes that you will forgive him. He smiles, content in the knowledge that at least he tried.

Little did you know, the silver fox had an ulterior motive for bringing you to Switzerland.

A smile spreads across his face as he watches you relaxing in a hot tub, washing away the stress of your long day. Clearly, he pushed you to the limit and saw your not-so-subtle eye rolls during the flight. He knows he has been too harsh on you, but he wants to ensure you succeed with him.

He lingers around your body tonight as he writes your name next to his.

Taking a deep breath, you let yourself sink deeper into the warm water, feeling your muscles relax with every step. If you can’t be in the sun, this is the closest you can get to feeling warm all over your body. The hot water embraces you with comforting warmth like a hug from a friend. You stay in the hot tub for as long as you can, allowing yourself to forget the stress of the day and simply enjoy the peace. Your boss has always made sure you don’t have a social life beyond being his personal assistant.

You have been trying to find a respite from the stress of the man's presence, and the soothing sound of the bubbling jets and the gentle hum of the motor are just what you need. The sound of his voice, however, is enough to break the illusion and bring you back to reality.

"Mr. Levinson, I don’t start until tomorrow morning. I am enjoying my free time. I need to relax, please," you say softly and finally put down your foot. It‘s time for you to relax after he stole your time off.

"Sweetheart, I apologize if I appeared harsh to you earlier this week, but you need to understand."

“I know! But let me relax tonight," you plead.

You sigh and open your eyes and stare at him with shock.

His desire for your body will reveal where his electric current resides.

When he opens the white robe's string with his strong hands, your heart races. He pulls it open, revealing his exquisite figure. You can't help but gasp in surprise. He suppresses a smile and nods.

"Would you like some company ?” His sculpted arms flex as he reaches for the wine, and for a moment, you can’t take your eyes off him. He smirks, knowing his effect on you. He pours one glass of wine. You feel electricity between you, and you can tell he feels it too.

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

You can't help but stare, unable to take your eyes off him.

You feel an overwhelming urge to touch him, to have him touch you.

You feel a tingling sensation throughout your body as he stands in front of you, exposing himself to you.

As he dips into the hot tub, you can see the water wavering around him and towards you. He slowly submerges himself in the water, letting out a sigh of relief as his tension and stress slowly melt away. The steam rises slowly around him, enveloping him in a cocoon of warmth and comfort.

You can't let your attraction to your boss get in the way of your job. But as he leans in closer, you feel yourself getting lost in his piercing gaze. Suddenly, the room feels too small and too hot. You try to focus on anything but him - the painting on the wall, the clock ticking away - but it's no use. Your mind keeps drifting back to him and how badly you want to give in to this forbidden passion.

Your breath comes out nervously as he floats closer to you.

"Wine?” Taking a sip of his wine, he closes the distance.

"I don't have a glass," you mumble nervously as he invades your space.

You hold your breath as he draws closer, hovering his lips over you. You feel your heart racing as you close your eyes and wait, anticipating a kiss. He pulls away, leaving you disappointed and flustered.

Then he nods at you to drink from his wine glass and slowly places it near your lips. You hesitantly sip, feeling the wine's warmth spread through your body.

Drops of wine drip from your lips, and he touches your neck with his finger to stop them from falling further. "Drink more, Princess," he urges. He leans in again, trailing kisses down your neck and sending shivers down your spine.

You feel nervous and excited as your heart races for a kiss. You take another sip of wine to steady yourself, noticing how his fierce azure eyes darken with desire.

He reaches for the bottle and pours more wine over your body. His hands caress your skin as he moves the bottle along, letting the cool liquid slide down your skin. His lips follow the path of the wine, leaving you trembling in anticipation.

One kiss will ignite all this, which will light my darkest fire for your body

He leans in and captures your lips in a passionate kiss.

The taste of wine on his lips is intoxicating as he takes another sip of you.

When his lips touch yours, a wave of passion washes over you. You feel the warmth of his breath. You get lost in the moment, the world around you fading away. As the wine lingers on your tongue, it mixes with the taste of him. He deepens the kiss, feeling his arms wrap around you as he pulls you closer. The heat between you is palpable and electric, making every nerve in your body come alive.

He smiles and whispers in your ear "Let's make tonight one to remember" You can feel a shiver down your spine as you nod.

Your new sweet obsession is his warmth, his smile your lust, his kisses your obsession

"I know you're a good girl; you're going to do everything I say, aren't you?" he breathes deeply over your exposed neck. You nod, unable to form any words.

A smile spreads across his face as he lowers his hands under the water and covers your pussy. "Princess, use your words."

You let out a whimper, "Yes, Sir." He chuckles, pleased with your response, and kisses your neck again. His hands explore further as his grip tightens around you.

“My girl," he murmurs softly. "Do you know how hot you are? How insane you drive me? I can barely contain myself. I want you so badly," he whispers in your ear.

His lips move down your neck, and his hands travel all over your body, exploring and caressing your curves.

The words he whispers to you stir something in you as his lust rages inside.

"You have such a slutty little mouth," he murmurs against your ear, holding you still with one hand against your throat and the other under the hot water rubbing against your pussy. "I'm sure you're tight as hell. I'm looking forward to hearing the sounds you make as you stretch around my dick. Princess, I promise to let you feel every inch of my cock"

Against his fingers, you grind, your eyes closing as you're enthralled by the kisses he leaves across your jaw and neck.

You feel him slide his thumb across your skin before sweeping it across your clit. As he moves his finger gently inside you, you can feel the movement of the water.

The sensation of his hands touching you, and watching his face as he does so, is intoxicating. You want more of it. He moves his fingers in circles inside you, sending pleasure waves through your body. But he stops when you explode, teasing you. More of him, whatever he can do, is what you need.

It's more of his filthy words and thick fingers.

Put his passion for you into words through his touch

The air blows on your pussy while he holds onto your thighs. You feel the cool air of the night on your skin as you try to focus on your boss' words.

It never occurred to you that you would be in this situation. You are lying on the floor next to the fireplace, naked in front of your boss, and the firelight enlightens the room. You were left to find comfort in the heat radiating from the floor, the only warmth you had after your swimsuit was carelessly discarded.

As you try to piece together the events leading up to this moment, your boss leans over and whispers against your pussy.

He kisses you there, a slow sweep with his tongue from bottom to top, ending with sucking your clit between his lips. You grip the rug cover end in your fists and try not to grind your pussy toward his face.

There's something about the way his tongue feels so freaking warm and soft. Then there's the way the scruff on his beard feels against it. It's lightly abrasive, and you're overwhelmed by the mix of sensations. You moan as you move closer, wanting to get close as possible.

"My Princess has a wet pussy, doesn't she? Want me to play with it? Stick my fingers in it? Maybe later, she can welcome my dick?" Using the tip of his finger, he runs it around your pussy, then slaps it and puts you on edge. “You're so sensitive." His voice echoes in the room, satisfied that you're affected by him.

You moan. "Sir, You're teasing me."

He chuckles and leans in closer, his breath tickling your pussy. "I'm not teasing. I'm just trying to make you feel good."

You hold your breath and scrunch your eyes shut as he exhales and laughs. "You can relax, Princess." He leans closer, his breath tickling your thighs. "It's just me." He pulls away, a smirk on his face. As he bites softly on the sides of your thighs, his gaze drifts to your pussy. "It's going to be a long night," he says softly.

Your hands clench in his salty pepper hair, and you shift your hips, intoxicated by his mouth on you.

I felt a deep sense of pleasure flowing with each kiss of lustful attention.

It is as if your soft sounds, your delicate moans, pull him deeper inside, just like the swell and the throb in his cock.

He couldn't resist the temptation any longer. He had to have you, all of you. The way your body moved and responded to his touch drove him wild with desire. He wanted to explore every inch of your skin, taste every part of you. Your innocence only made him want you more, to be the one who initiates you into a world of pleasure that only he can provide. As he plunges deeper inside you, he feels like he is finally complete.

"Fuck, this slutty pussy is begging for my cock," he says, slapping your thighs while your muscles clench around him, teasing you.

He grabs your hand and guides it over his body - smooth, warm, and inviting. His eyes are locked on yours, and you can feel his desire radiating from him. You can't help but feel a wave of pleasure wash over you.

He smiles despite the tension near his eyes, as though waiting for your response. "Tell me how this feels. How does my cock feel inside of you?" You bite your lip and moan softly.

He slides his hips back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper into you.

You can feel his hardness pulsing and stretching you, and your pleasure builds with every thrust. "I feel like you're breaking me, but I'm full, hot, and - so alive, Ari. I need more, please." Your voice is barely above a whisper, but it's enough to make him shiver with desire. He leans down to capture her lips again, deepening your connection and losing himself in the sensations you bring out in him.

He slides his hips back and forth, pushing deeper and deeper into you. You moan in pleasure as you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. He pulls out and then thrusts back in, pushing you over the edge as you reach your climax.

You moan into his mouth as he begins to thrust, your body arching and trembling with each stroke as he moves faster and faster. His strong hands grip your hips tightly as he drives into you, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. He pulls away and whispers in your ear, “Do you know why I hired you, Princess.”

You look into his eyes, your body still shaking from the pleasure he had brought you. You gasp and whisper back, “No, why did you hire me?”

He smiles and pulls you close, kissing you deeply. “Because you are the most talented, and I always hire the best.”

The smug grin on his face lights up as he kisses your neck and shoulder, his fingers now playing with your nipple. His pace slows as your body begins to revive itself. The tip of his nose trails up your neck and shoulder as he marks your skin. "I knew from the moment I saw you that you were special. Your pussy had to be special to take my cock." His voice is hoarse and filled with desire, and his breathing heavy as he whispers these words into the air, emphasizing the power of his feelings for you.

"You're doing so well for your CEO, Sweetheart," he whispers, his lips against yours. "We have all week to explore every aspect of your performance."

You run a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. "Ari - I?" A second orgasm hits you before you can even speak, and your whole body tenses against him.

You are his, so he owns everything about you

As your climax approaches, Ari whispers, "You're mine." His hands press against your skin sending shivers down your spine. He leans in and kisses you again. "Mine," he repeats when the first spasm of pleasure makes you shudder and throw your head back.

All that is audible are his grunts as he takes control of your body with each thrust.

It was Ari's dirty secret that there was no conference; instead, he will keep himself warm by being inside of you for the entire week.

He knows you won't mind it.

This weekend is a winter storm, and he knows you'll need him to soothe your body and make you moan. This weekend, Ari is ready to wrap himself around you and provide the warmth and comfort you desperately crave; he will be your source of comfort in the midst of the storm. His skin is soft and inviting, begging you to let him into your heart for a moment of pleasure together.

As you hold each other, the world outside freezes away - it's just the two of you in this heat.

Your body ached, curved, and was drenched. It embraced him.

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fushironi · 8 months

Text

About Damn Time

✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞

CEO!Sukuna x 18+ reader

Summary: You’ve been the secretary to one of the biggest CEOs in Japan and since day one, for over a year, you have fantasized about sleeping with your boss. Will the feelings be the same or will he reject you?

Tw/Cw: degradtion (whore, slut, etc), slight dubcon, pet names (bunny, princess, etc), spanking, hair puling, boss/employee encounters, semi-public sex, cowgirl, semi-clothed humping, semi-sweet Sukuna instead of psycho Kuna, Daddy kink, minors DNI!

w.c. 2.9k

Inspiration based off the header pic drawn by @innaillus 🤤 they are amazing at what they do! 🫶🏼🖤 thanks again for letting me use this!

✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞ ✧༺♥༻∞

CEO!Sukuna has a hold on you. You know you shouldn't fall for your boss, but when he gives you the look, you know what is required of you. Make his day more manageable.

You couldn't count how often his eyes would weaken you, compelling you to enter his office and take his mind off the day's stress. You had been working for Sukuna's company for over a year as his secretary, and you can't count how many times you have laid in your bed, fucking yourself with your toy as you imagine your handsome, robust, and beautiful boss railing into you from every angle possible as his large cock rearranges your insides. Of course, this was just a fantasy in your head, seeing as your boss has yet to make an actual move on you. It's always just having you in there to listen to him rant before he kisses you-never going any further. He would always stop himself before any clothing came off, making your head spin. He never said anything after each encounter and would tease you with his eyes and lips days after. Nothing more, and it drove you psycho. But again, rules are rules, and you can't be in a relationship with your boss.

You let out a shaky sigh as you get to the top floor of the building; you hold your boss's coffee and muffin in your hand, along with your folder full of notes and messages for the man himself. You exit the elevator and set down your folder before knocking on Sukana's door, your heart thumping. Your shirt and skirt felt tighter as he opened the door just enough for you to enter, clearly seeing he was on a business call. You try to step as softly as possible on the tile floor, your heels clicking with each step. You set down his coffee and muffin, stepping back from his desk as you cross your arms in front of you.

"Okay, thanks. I'll get my secretary on it. Bye," Sukuna sighs as he hangs up the phone, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Who am I being contacted by this time?" You ask as you sit down in the chair across from him. You cross your legs over one another, sitting forward just enough to let the bit of cleavage you had show peak over the top of your blouse.

"Suguru Geto. He wants to partner with us for our next launch, and I told him I would have you work out the details. Is that okay?" Sukuna asks as he raises a brow, sipping his coffee. You nod your head as you watch him. Your eyes scan his features: his tattoos, his pinkish hair, the way his shirt stretches across his broad chest-it was enough to have you squeezing your thighs together at the thought of him.

"Good. Any new messages?" He asks as he turns to his computer, typing away. You nod as you get up, going to grab your folder. You let out a shaky breath as you hold your folder, trying to pull yourself together. He's your boss, for fucksake.

"Kento over in records wants to speak with you about a few things and even bring suggestions about promotion." You say as you read over your notes. You hear Kuna snort at your statement, making you roll your eyes slightly. You continue to read over everything to him, watching him as he nods occasionally.

"Thank you, y/n," Sukuna says as he stares at you. His eyes scan your body, making you feel naked, even fully clothed. His lips curl up in a slight smirk as he watches you shift in your spot. "You're dismissed," he chuckles as you hurriedly scurry out of his office.

As the day passed, you couldn't help but think about Sukuna and how his eyes undressed you. The way his lips curled into a beautiful smirk before sending you on your way. A small whimper leaves your lips as you think about him taking you to his desk and using you as his little toy. A groan falls from your lips as your thoughts are broken by the phone on your desk ringing.

"Ryomen Enterprise. How can I help you?" Your voice was soft and smooth as you answered, having been trained always to have a pleasant voice.

"My office. Now." Fuck. What did you do? You hang up the receiver as you straighten out your top and skirt once you stand, knocking on his door. "Enter." His voice booms as you turn the handle.

"You wanted to see me, sir?" You said meekly, your hands beside you as you closed the door.

"Lock it." He says without missing a beat. You do as he says, reaching the chair before his desk. You sit down as you watch your boss, your eyes never leaving his body. You felt a familiar sense of heat wash over your body as he sat back in his chair, his eyes boring into your soul.

You clear your throat before you begin speaking. "Did you need something, Mr. Sukuna?" Your words were light and airy, trying to play off the apparent heat between your thighs. You feel his eyes undressing you, drinking in your body as he smirks.

"Yes, I do," He pauses momentarily as he walks in front of his desk, his body just mere inches from yours. He leans down, a smirk plastered on his lips as his breath gently fans over your face. "I need you." His words fall off his tongue like honey, your eyebrow quirking at his response. Before you know it, your lips are pressed to his, your body reacting without hesitation.

The kiss was electric, his soft lips molding with yours. Your hands find his hair as he finds your waist, pulling you to your feet as he deepens the kiss. This one was different than the others you had shared before. All other encounters included rough groping and a hot and heavy make-out session. But this. This was something different. There was a desire in this encounter. There was passion—all the things you wanted out of the man in front of you.

After what felt like an eternity, you both pull away for air, a string of saliva the only thing connecting you. Your head is spinning as you try to process what happened, your hands moving down to land on Sukuna's chest. Your eyes scan his face for signs of wanting to stop, but you don't see any. So, you take a moment to say something that has been plaguing you.

"Why?" It was a simple question. But it holds so much weight.

"Why what?" Sukuna asks as his hands gently squeeze your hips.

You move your body closer, your fingers playing with his shirt. "Why me? Why tease me with heavy make-out sessions and groping but never take anything further? Before today, I thought you just wanted to use me." Your voice was small, but you felt valid in your question.

Sukuna gently presses his lips back onto yours, his large hand on your cheek. "Because I didn't want to lose you as an employee. You're both brilliant as well as breathtakingly beautiful. I was afraid you didn't have the same feelings as I do. So quick sessions allowed me to test the waters." His words were confident and clear.

You smile as your fingers trace over the exposed tattoos on his chest. "Well, in that case," you smirk as you bite his lower lip. "Let me show you what 'testing the waters' has done to me," you purr softly in his ear, your teeth gently biting his lobe. You kiss down his neck, sucking on the skin every so often. The small moan from his lips made your cunt wetter, giving you satisfaction at your actions. "Sit." You growl against his lips, your eyes meeting his.

"Demanding now, aren't we?" Sukuna chuckles as he happily walks to his chair, manspreading as he watches you. You roll your eyes as you take your hair out of its bun, slowly walking over to him. You watch his body language, silently laughing as you watch him try to adjust how he sits. You slowly run your hands down your body as you unbutton your blouse, exposing your bare chest to him. You sit down in his lap, your skirt hiking up just enough to expose your pussy. You place your lips back on his neck, gently grazing his skin.

"Mmm. Naughty girl. No bra? What happens when you get cold? All these sleazy men would notice." Sukuna's voice was light yet teasing. As you look at him, you roll your eyes, his lips turned up in a smirk. You move your hips against his, your exposed cunt pressed against his clothed cock. "Ngh- no panties either? Dirty girl," he growls as his hands squeeze your ass, causing you to moan. It was his turn to attack your neck, his lips feeling like fire on your skin as he started to leave marks on your soft skin.

"Then why don't you show me what happens to dirty girls?" You smirk as you roll your hips once more, secretly loving the feeling of his slack against your cunt. Sukuna chuckles darkly as his hands move to your breasts, squeezing them roughly in his large hands. A high-pitched squeak leaves your lips at the feeling, your hips mindlessly rolling to get some friction.

"Seems like you're already punishing yourself. Grinding your cute little cunt against my lap. Does it feel good, baby?" Sukuna growls as he leans down to suckle on your nipple. You moan as your back arches into his chest, your fingers in his hair as you speed up his hips. "Answer me," he growls as he smacks your ass.

“Fuck. Yes, it feels so good," you mewl as you grind your hips faster. A mixture of frustration and pleasure courses through you as you continue to fuck yourself against his clothed cock, your head spinning as his lips continue their assault on your chest. You could feel the smirk on his lips as he watched you, Sukuna secretly loving how he didn't even have to touch you to have you puddy in his hands. You whimper as his large fingers find your clit, drawing small circles on the sensitive nub.

"So wet," Sukuna purrs as he pinched your bundle of nerves. You gasped at the feeling, your mind going fuzzy as you felt yourself growing closer to your climax. You speed up your hips as you chase your high, his fingers going between pinching and circling your clit. "Does my naughty little girl want to cum? Does she want to make a mess on my clothes cock?" Sukuna growls in your ear, his free hand toying with your nipple.

"P-please, Kuna. Fuck," you whimper, your nails scratching at his exposed chest. His lips find yours once more as he speeds up his fingers, pulling you over the edge. Your body shudders as you release in his lap, your teeth biting his lower lip. "Ohh fuck," you moan as your hips rut through your high. You whimper as Sukuna picks you up from his lap placing you on his desk.

A smirk plays on his lips as he looks down at his ruined pants, his eyes finding yours. "Messy girl. These were my favorite pants." Sukuna states as he undoes his belt buckle. You lean back on your hands as you watch him undress, your shirt loosely hanging on your shoulders. Your teeth pull on your bottom lip as you watch his fingers unbutton his shirt, exposing his broad tattooed chest. You find yourself clenching around nothing at the sight before you, wanting nothing more than to litter his skin with hickeys and scratch marks.

His body stands between your legs, his hands pushing your shirt entirely off your arms. "So beautiful. And all mine," Sukuna's voice was low and velvety, his hands finding your hips again. He sees the button on your skirt, undoing the small piece of plastic. He smirks as the fabric softens, your hands and hips moving as you remove your remaining clothing. Being fully exposed to your boss made you feel vulnerable, but it was a comfortable vulnerability.

“Are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna do something?” You smirked, your eyes meeting his. A dark chuckle falls from his lips as he quickly grabs you, turning you around so your backside is against his front.

"Are you doubting me? You do realize I can break you if I want. I can make you see stars just by using my fingers. You're so drunk about me ruining your cute little pussy you've forgotten how to act." Sukuna's words go straight to your core, making your knees buckle. "And since you are so impatient," he pauses as his hand lands a hard smack to your ass, causing you to jolt forward at the motion. "You don't get any mercy." He growls, his hand landing another smack on your ass. Before you can protest, he slams his cock into your sopping cunt, a scream of pain and pleasure passing your lips. Your hands quickly grip the desk to keep you steady as Sukuna begins to fuck you at a rapid yet persistent pace. Your head begins to go fuzzy as he abuses your pussy, his cock stretching you out in the most mouth-watering way. His fingers dig into your hips, sure to leave beautiful bruises when he is done.

"Can't talk now, can you?" He growls as he jerks you up by your hair, biting along the span of your neck. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as his other hand comes to rub your clit, making your back arch further as his cock continues to sink deeper into your cunt. Your walls squeeze around him as he finds that particular spot. The spot you try to reach on your own but always fall short.

"Found it." He smirks as he smacks your clit, and a loud and pornographic moan leaves your lips. Skin slapping and moaning fill the room as his hips jerk up into you. You felt that familiar knot forming in your stomach, your knuckles turning white from gripping the desk, your walls squeezing his cock. "Fucking whore. Is this what you wanted? Wanted your boss to fuck you stupid? Wanted to feel me inside you, filling you so full you forget how to speak?" He grunts as he pinches your nipple, your body reacting naturally. "Look at you, drooling on my desk. Dumb slut." His words have you falling over the edge, your body shaking as you release on his cock. Your vision goes white due to the pleasure, whimpers falling from your lips as his cock leaves your pussy. Your chest is heaving as you try to steady yourself, your body slowly turning to see that Sukuna has sat in his chair, his cock still erect.

"Sit. Now." You do as he says, slowly walking over to him as you position your sensitive cunt over his large veiny cock. His tip brushes against your clit, eliciting a moan from both of you. You slowly sink onto his cock, hissing slightly at the stretch. A deep groan leaves his lips as you fully sit down on his length, the stretch burning but feeling pleasurable. You slowly begin to move your hips, your core still sensitive and sore from his previous abuse of your cunt, but you slowly start to pick up the pace, wanting nothing more than to feel Sukuna inside you.

You let your body take over your brain, your hips moving on their own as you ride Sukuna faster. His moans were like music to your ears, his head thrown back against his chair. You take the chance to bruise his neck with love bites and hickeys, leaving your mark as your nails rake down his chest.

"Feels so good, Daddy. 'm so full," you whimper as your lips find him, your shared moans lost in the expanse of each other's throats. Your hips start to falter, your body getting closer to another orgasm.

"Is my little bunny getting tired? Did you think you could fuck me? Nice try, princess." Sukuna laughs as he grips your hips, fucking into you inhumanely. Strings of babbles and moans of his name fall from your lips, your bodies growing closer and closer to your high. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to keep yourself from coming, knowing you'd make a mess for a third time. "Want me to fill you up? Wanna feel my cum deep inside you?" Sukuna growls as his hands smack your ass, his lips biting your neck again.

"Y-yes, Daddy. Fuck. P-please," you whine, your walls squeezing his cock as the knot in your stomach breaks, your loud moans and whimpers filling the room. Sukuna follows close behind, his hot seed coating your walls a beautiful shade of white. His hips slow as you ride out your highs, your shared panting the only thing resounding in the room. Your bodies were hot and sweaty, the smell of sex and sweat hitting your noses. You look into his eyes, your lips gently pressing against his as you slowly come down from cloud nine.

"You're so beautiful." Sukuna smiles as he pulls away, his hand coming to cup his cheek.

"Right back at you," you smile as you peck his lips again. You fall into his chest, your body weak as you cockwarm him.

You felt safe in his embrace, knowing this may change your work dynamic, but you didn't care. Sukuna kisses the top of your head, his hands stroking your back before he speaks. "So, how about dinner at my place, and I'll show you how much you truly mean to me?"

#jjk #fanfic #anime #jjk smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader

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wifeofnatasharomanoff · 1 year

Text

You Can Be The Boss

Warnings: Smut, g!p Nat, light angst?, pregnancy

Words: 2,782

Summary: You slept with your boss, what happens now?

A/N: who doesn't want CEO Nat yk? Remember to drink water and eat everyone, ily all <3

You were the assistant to one of the most powerful, and rich CEO in all of New York. Natasha Romanoff.. she was a strict, straightforward type of boss, frankly you didn't quite adore her, you were more scared of her, and you would gladly accept a job offer from anyone else. But you never got any, and this was probably the most paying job you could ever work at.

You step into the elevator, making your way to the top floor to hand Miss Romanoff her daily caffeine. A ding noise follows as you reach to the top floor. Sighing, you knock on her office door. “Come in.” you open the door, avoiding eye contact. “Ah, Miss Y/l/n. What brings you to my office?” you hold up the cup of coffee, placing it on her desk. “Y/n. I have a request– more like an order, really.”

You nod, waiting for her to finish speaking. “I need my assistant, you. For the work event this Friday, clear your schedule, or plans if you had any.” you did, in fact have plans. “I'm so sorry Miss Romanoff but, my friend's out for work on Friday and she asked me to watch her son.” she raised a brow, looking over at you from her desk.

“So? It was an order Miss Y/l/n, I expect you to follow it.” you dryly swallow, “Y-yes I'm sorry it won't happen again.” she watches you for a few more seconds, “Now get out, you have paperwork to do no?” you nod nervously, walking over to the door. “Bye!”

You exit her office, going back down to your floor.

“God I wish she was less m–” the elevator door opens, it's her sister who was pretty much your work best friend. “Yelena!” “Hey sestra, Natasha's still picking on you?” you let out a nervous laugh, “Uh.. no! No– she's fine.” she gives you an assuring smile, “If you need to be saved from her, I'm one call away.” she enters the elevator, as you step out of it. “Bye 'Lena!” she waves goodbye before the elevator doors close.

You take your phone out, calling your friend. “Hey! I'm sorry, but um.. something came up, and I can't watch your son today. I can pay for a sitter if you want?” "No! No, that's okay Y/n.." you hear loud noises from the background, "Put that down! .. I'm so sorry, he's being annoying all day, I have to go, so.. bye—" you turn off your phone, walking into your office.

You sigh, sitting down onto your office chair. The keys on your keyboard clacking, you type, responding to emails. A knock on your door, “Yeah?” the red-head walks through, “Miss y/l/n, I don't care if you have anything against it. I ordered you a dress for Friday..” she trails off, looking down at you.

You clear your throat, “Uh.. Miss Romanoff?” her gaze flickers back to your face, “That's– that's all, I'll be going now.” you nod, “Bye!” she gets up and goes to the door, “Bye.”

You hear the door close shut, you furrow your brows in confusion. “What was she looking at?” you mutter to yourself. You face the desk mirror, gasping quietly. “Ohh– oh.” you bring your hands up to your blouse, buttoning the top button.

You look back at the computer, seeing you received an email. "I'll be picking you up at 7 pm on Friday night. Don't be late." You find yourself smiling at her email.

The week flies by pretty quickly, Tuesday going to Friday. Your apartment bell rings, you go to open it, just to see a box with the words, "Y/n /Y/l/n, from: Natasha Romanoff." You assume it's the dress she was talking about the other day. You pick up the box, closing your door.

You open the box, emitting a gasp. It was beautiful, a gorgeous deep emerald. You pull out the dress from the box, lifting it up to see it in full view. It was modest but with an off shoulder cut. "Did you like the dress?" You look over at your phone, seeing her text pop-up.

"Yes, thank you! I'm so sorry if it was over-priced." She hearts your message, "No worries, I have the money for it. Think of it as a gift Y/n." You smile at her message, not knowing what to respond with, all you do it just heart her message and turn off your phone.

You check the time, "5:24 pm" “Shit. I'm gonna be late.” you get up, grabbing the dress and running off into your room to go get ready.

An hour and a half later, your doorbell rings. You scramble out of your room, struggling to put on a heel. You open the door, “Miss Romanoff! Hi– I'm..” you slip on your heel, grabbing your purse. “I'm– ready, shall we go?” she nods. You step out of your apartment, locking the door and walk down to the parking lot.

She drives off, leaving your apartment complex. “I'm sorry that you have to drive me.” she glances at you, “Don't be sorry, I offered.” you hum in response, looking out the window. “How long till we get there?” she pulls up to a parking space, “We're here already.” you respond with an, "oh."

She gets out of the car, you get out as well.

You two step into the building, you gasp in awe looking around the place, you feel a nudge on your shoulder. “I'm gonna go talk to some other guests, don't do anything you aren't supposed to.” you nod, watching her leave.

You walk over to the bar, picking up a glass of champagne. “I haven't seen a beauty like you here before.” you look up to see a blonde woman, “My name's Carol Danvers, you can call me Carol sweetheart.” you blush, “Hi– uh.. I'm Miss Romanoff's assistant.”

She smirks, handing you a drink. You accept it, “Romanoffs assistant huh?” you nod, “If she's too tough on you, feel free to come by at my office.” you laugh slightly, “Thanks for the offer.” she brings her hand up to your face, tucking in a stray hair strand behind your ear.

“I believe she likes it here, isn't that right Y/n?” Natasha walks up behind you, holding a glass of wine. You freeze, looking up at Carol. “Um.. yeah–” you hand Carol the drink back, “Don't be so harsh on her,” her gaze lingers on you, “She's my assistant if she didn't like how I treat her she would've quit by now.”

You feel as if you've gone invisible, watching the two women bicker. A few time passes by, Carol leaves the bar, you and Natasha just stand there. “Come on Y/n let's take you home.” you hazily look up at her, nodding slowly.

She takes you back to the car, driving off. “Mmh.. Natasha–” she glances at you, “You're drunk Y/n.” you smile at her words, poking her cheek. “No you're drunk!” she rolls her eyes, eventually making it to your apartment building.

“We're here, wake up.” you flutter your eyes open, looking up at her. “Walk me up?” she looks back at you, sighing. “Okay fine.” she helps you out of the car, and you two get into the elevator to your floor.

You unlock your apartment door, “Miss Romanoff are you mad at me?” she looks at you, “Why would I be?” you shrug, walking inside your home. “You can come in if you want.” she hesitates for a moment, but steps inside anyways.

“Do you.. want me to make food?” you offer, “Or—” you get cut off with a pair of lips crashing against yours, you moan into the kiss. Her hands roam around your body, finding the zipper on your dress and unzipping it.

She backs you up into your bedroom, shoving you onto your bed. You let out a gasp, “Yeah, I guess I was mad at you.” she hoists your legs over her shoulders, you watch her slip off her pants. She makes eye contact with you, you nod giving her consent.

You feel her hardened cock on your clothed clit, letting out a small whimper. “Let's get that off of you, hm detka?” you nod vigorously, bringing your hands down to your panties and taking it off. She gropes your waist, lining her tip to your entrance.

She pushes a few inches inside your throbbing core, making you emit a loud, breathy moan. “Fuck.. you're so tight. Taking me all in, just like that— good girl.” her words make you roll your eyes to the back of your head.

“Miss Romanoff I'm gonna—” she feels you tense up, “Do it baby, cum all over my cock.” your walls clench around her length, a wave of pleasurement crashes down on you, you scream out her name over and over again.

She thrusts in deeper into you, smirking down at you. “Mmh.. kotenok, gonna fill you up huh?” you mumble something out, getting cut off with a loud moan.

She comes inside of you, collapsing on top of your chest, panting heavily. “Y/n? You okay?” you hum as a response, nodding as you catch your breath as well.

“Uh.. I'll be going now– see you on Monday.” she slowly pulls out of you, putting her clothes back on. “Yeah! Yeah– see you on Monday too.” she smiles at you before leaving you alone in your bedroom.

The weekend passed, and you find yourself getting on the elevator to Natasha's office holding her coffee as usual. You sigh and knock on her door, “Come in.” you open the door, she freezes, and looks over at you. “Y/n.” you put the cup on her desk, “Yeah?”

She pauses, “Listen about Friday night..” you look up at her, listening intently. “It was wrong, we were both drunk and– I'm your boss, you're my assistant. If anyone found out it would be bad. So I'm trying to tell you to forget about it.”

You nod, exhaling shakily. “I understand, don't worry.” she smiles at you, “Thank you, you're free to leave now.” you walk to the door, waving goodbye.

You go back to your office, signing papers. You hear a knock on your door, followed by a, “It's me!” you smile, “The doors open 'Lena.” the blonde opens the door, flashing a big smile at you. “How did the party on Friday go?” you groan, “God, don't remind me.” she furrows her brows in confusion, sitting down on a chair.

“What happened sestra?” you chew on the inside of your cheek, looking at her. “You really wanna know?” “Yes? If somethings bothering my work sister of course I want to know.” you sigh, “Don't tell anyone.” she takes a deep breath, “Oh so it's that bad.” you nod meekly.

“Isleptwithyoursister.” “Slow down, what?” you look down at your hands. “I.. slept with my boss– who happens to be your sister.” she widens her eyes, processing what she has just been told. “Oh. Natasha!? Seriously Y/n?” you nod. She burst out laughing, “I thought you had good taste.” you frown, “So.. you're not mad?” she shakes her head, “Why would I be?”

“What did she tell you?” you look at her, confusion displayed on your face. “After—” “Ohh.” you grab a pen from your desk, fidgeting it. “Um.. she said that it was a mistake and– to forget about it.” she looks back at you, “She what?” you nod.

She gets up from the chair, “Well, I'm gonna go. I'll see you later sestra.” you smile, waving her bye. “Bye Yelena!” she mouths bye, opening the door and leaving.

She goes up to Natasha's office, opening the door, too bothered to knock. “Hey 'Lena.” she walks up to her desk. “It was a mistake?” Natasha looks at her with a confused look. “Y/n.” “Who told you tha– oh.”

“Why would you say that to her? Natasha.” she sighs, dropping her attention from the computer to Yelena. “Because I'm scared.” she looks up at her sister. “For?” “She, I love her. I do, really. But–” Natasha pauses, looking at Yelena. “But the media wouldn't approve.. So? Natasha it's your life.”

“You have until next week to tell her how you feel.” Natasha widens her eyes, opening her mouth to argue. “Because I know she feels the same way.” “She does?” Yelena nods. “Next week Natasha.” she trails off, walking out of her office.

Natasha sighs, running her fingers through her red hair. How do I tell her?

The next few days have been bad, you couldn't figure out why, you've been having the worst headaches lately. But you still went to work, obviously.

You were at your desk when Yelena came in your office, “Hey sestra what's up?” you look up at her, “Hey 'Lena, nothing much. You?” you croak out, your throat scratchy. “You okay Y/n?” you nod, weakly smiling at her.

“Well.. anything happening at work lately?” you huff, dropping your pen on the desk. “Other than Natasha bugging me.. I mean– she tells me it was a mistake but doesn't stop bothering me.” Yelena looks at you, “Do you think it was a mistake?” you hesitate, “No, but I'm respecting her opinion.”

“What if she changed her opinio—” Natasha walks in the room, Yelena stops. “Was I interrupting?” you shake your head, “No it's fine.” she looks at you the same way Yelena did, “Are you okay?” you lock eyes with her for a split second, “Yeah! Yeah.. I'm fine.”

She sighs, “You can take off for the day.” you look up at her, “Really?” “Yeah.” you thank her, picking up your paperwork. “Leave that, I'll tell someone else to do it.” you blink, “Thank you! Bye, I'll see you tomorrow Miss Romanoff, bye 'Lena!” you wave goodbye, leaving your office.

You feel the need to throw up as soon as you get home, you rush into your bathroom, and vomit. You get out, and drink water, throat still scratchy. What the fuck? ...

Days go by, you keep calling out sick. Natasha starts to worry, debating whether or not she should check up on you.

Eventually, she drives to your apartment. Knocking on your door. You open it, widening your eyes when you see her in front of your door. “Miss Romanoff!” you open the door further, signaling her to come in.

“What– what are you doing here?” you ask, closing your door. “You haven't gone to work in 8 days, I'm worried Y/n.” you sit down across from her. “What's wrong? Is it me?” you stop her, “No! I mean‐ it is you but it isn't you.” she furrows her brows in confusion.

“Miss Romanoff I—” she cuts you off, “I'm in love with you.” you widen your eyes in shock, “Well that makes this 10 times easier.” you laugh nervously, “Makes what easier?” you fiddle with your fingers, looking down at your lap. “Natasha I'm.. pregnant.”

She looks over at you, “You– it's mine?” you nod your head. She moves closer to you, grasping your hand. “Are you keeping them?” you nod, “Yeah.” she brings a hand up to your cheek, “Can I—” you slam your lips with hers, kissing her deeply.

You break the kiss, gasping for air. “Natasha what would everyone think?” she squeezes your hand, “Don't worry detka, I have it under control.” you smile at her, “Okay..” you two sit in silence before you speak up, “Are you staying?” “If you want.” you kiss her cheek, “Of course I want you to stay.”

She smiles at you, “Then I'm staying.”

The next week you back to work, when you enter your work building, you hear series of, “Congratulations Mrs. Romanoff.” not knowing what they meant by that, you go to Natasha's office.

“Y/n,” you set her cup of coffee on her desk. “What do they mean, "Mrs. Romanoff"?” she sighs, passing you a magazine. “Read it.” you grab it from her, reading it.

'Natasha Romanoff and wife expecting a baby' you put it back on her desk, “So.. I'm Mrs. Romanoff?” she nods, looking at you. You smile, taking a seat on her lap. “Baby I'm working..” you kiss her softly, “I could get used to 'Mrs. Romanoff'.”

She smiles, kissing you back. You hear a knock on the door, Natasha groans. “Come in.” Yelena barges into her office, “So my sister and bestfriend are having a baby and just happen to not tell me?”

Yelena looks at the both of your positions, widening her eyes. “Pretend I never came in here. Congratulations by the way sestra. I'm gonna go.” She runs out of Natasha's office, closing the door shut.

#SoundCloud #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha marvel #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

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suyacho · 10 months

Text

fucked my way up to the top // shinjuro rengoku

your boss calls you over to his office like always, yet this time you chose to have a little fun before summer break

collab masterlist

warnings here: minors/ageless blogs dni - fem!reader - ceo!shinjuro - office sex - age gap (like 10/15 years whatever floats your boat) - shinjuro is 50 or so - nicknames (sir / doll) - pussy deprived shinjuro / premature ejaculation - size kink - handjob - degrading - handjob - cursing - unprotected sex - not much prep - not beta read lol - 1,7K words

note: hi hi, this is a very late submission to @aasouthteranoswife ‘s summerfling collab! i hope you guys enjoy it as much as i did when writing it🫶 happy fathers day to the dilfs that fuel my daddy issues

“Are your skirts gonna keep getting shorter?” Shinjuro spat, glancing over at you and then back at his papers as you entered his office. You already knew what type of talk this was going to be, no wonder everyone quit this job quickly. “Is your attitude going to keep getting worse with each passing day or no?” you answered back, holding the papers you had to print while you stared at him, waiting for him to speak next.

Shinjuro shook his head a bit, a chuckle leaving his lips. “Cheeky one, aren’t you?” he told you, finally looking at you after setting his last papers away, looking you up and down with no shame. The weather was getting warmer with each passing day, of course you were going to wear as little clothing as possible, trying to push the buttons of what was acceptable and what not. It wasn’t like he minded, no in fact, he absolutely loved it, it was the reason he called you to the office every day, just to catch a better glimpse of you, it was all he needed before he left his mind running, always leaving him rock hard under his desk.

“So what do you want? I’ve got your papers right here–” you paused, putting them on his desk, slightly leaning forward, giving him a good view of your chest, whether it was on purpose or not, Shinjuro had his eyes glued on it. “Is there anything else? You’re kinda wasting my time like this and I don’t want to work overtime, especially not when I’m leaving for vacation tomorrow.” you spoke honestly, snapping your fingers to catch his attention, noticing the staring, a small smirk creeping up your face.

“There’s one thing actually… These clothes are quite unacceptable.” Shinjuro started, making you cross your arms as you glanced at him. “Is that so?” “Or are they unacceptable because you can’t control yourself… I know that some disgusting thoughts must be running through your mind daily with the way you’re always rock hard after my visits.” you sighed, being fully aware of the effect you had on him. Goosebumps quickly formed on the back of your neck as he stood up without saying anything, making his way over to you.

“You have such a big mouth for someone who’s trying to seduce me. Maybe I’ll show you that these clothes aren’t made for the office…” Shinjuro smirked, standing behind you, putting his hands on your sides and pulling you closer to him, so your back was pressed against his chest. It being his way off showing the effect you had on him, a small whimper leaving your lips as you felt his hardon against your back.

“But you can wear skin tight shirts and get away with it?” you argued with him, feeling his hand slightly moving up your skirt, just enough to show your panties, trying to ignore the heat starting to burn inside you. “Oh? Does it bother you?” Shinjuro questioned, his hands starting to unbutton your blouse, revealing the red matching lingerie set as you swallowed your breath. Shinjuro was enjoying this far too much.

In fact, it did bother you, not in a bad way though. You just couldn’t keep your eyes off him like that, he has a nice chest, such nice muscles, it was hard to concentrate like that. Shinjuro had a fine body, it was a waste that he had a shitty personality, yet you couldn’t help yourself from looking at it and imagining the things he could do to you with that body.

“Why would I be bothered by an old man like you?” you answered, letting him slide your blouse off your shoulders, your actions not matching your words. “You’re surprisingly obedient.” Shinjuro confesses, turning you to face him, being met with your devilish smile. “Well it’s you after all… I have to do my job properly, don’t I sir?” you teased, trailing your fingers down his chest, noticing the bulge in his dress pants.

There was no going back from this anymore, still it wasn’t like you cared much. It was summer, you were going on vacation tomorrow, meaning you wouldn’t see your boss for a hot minute anyways. What was a summer without taking risks and having a few flings here & there after all? Your hot boss was just an extra bonus.

“All this–” Shinjuro smirked, using one hand to unclasp your bra, while the other held your face, making you look at him. “ – just to seduce me.” “Who says I wore this to seduce you?” you smiled innocently, starting to rub him through his jeans, giggling a bit at his reaction.

“Just– shut up.” he groaned, taking your bra off, leaving you whimpering softly as the cold air hit your nipples. It had been so long since anyone besides himself touched him there, he was sensitive and sexually frustrated, not knowing how much longer he could hold back.

“Oh…? What do we have here sir?” you spoke, continuing your movements while you pulled him closer by his tie, moving back until you hit his desk. “An extremely n-needy girl who needs to be put in her place.” Shinjuro answered, trying to put up his tough act, only for you to laugh at him.

“You look like you’re about to cream your pants big boy.” you teased him, his heavy breathing and blushy cheeks giving him away. Shinjuro doesn’t answer, he just moved against your hand for some more friction, he knows you’re right yet he can’t help himself from moving.

“Says the one w-who has soaked panties.” Shinjuro tried to argue back, slowly giving into pleasure as his eyes scanned your body, so desperate to finally have a taste of you. “Just relax… Let me take care of you.” you whispered, your breath ghosting over his lips as you leaned closer to him, pulling back just when he was about to kiss you.

Shinjuro cursed you out mentally, but who was he to deny all of this? Especially when it’s been what he was dreaming of. “F-Fine, just hurry.” he told you, still a hint of sterness in his tone, even when he was this vulnerable in front of you.

Teasingly, you added more pressure as you continued feeling him up through his clothes, toying with his tip the most and giggling at the wet patch on the fabric. There was just something about your boss being like this in front of you, something that made you clench around nothing, desperate to be filled.

“Hurry up and cum fast sir, I don’t know how much longer I can hold on…” you whispered into his hair, placing a sweet kiss behind his ear, licking and sucking on the skin, making sure to leave your mark as you continued. His breathy moans & pleads filling his office together with all the dirty words you told him, only for you to squeeze your legs together as he approached his climax already.

You were enjoying this more than you maybe should have, yet you were craving for all of him. What was life without taking some risks and doing things you're not supposed to do?

“Just like that, please.” Shinjuro groaned, too desperate to be even embarrassed in the moment, wanting nothing besides the relief, throwing his sanity aside. His grip was tight on your sides as you moved faster, pulling him in a heated kiss, swallowing his groans against your lips.

Sloppily, he deepened the kiss, coming undone against the fabric of his dress pants not much later, his cock twitching and his legs slightly trembling as he whined against your lips.

Fuck, you needed him right now.

Pulling back from the kiss, a string of saliva connected you two shared with your shaky breaths. A small smile creeping on your face as you rested your forehead against his, looking down at the tent in his pants that never left, not even after his release.

Giggling to yourself, you moved back, helping yourself onto his desk and spreading your legs, welcoming him nicely, only for him to raise an eyebrow and move closer, hovering over you. “Well well– what do we have here?” Shinjuro questioned, undoing his jeans and moving them down together with his briefs, just enough to free his cock. “Hmm, I don’t know… why don’t you see for yourself?” you taunted him, moving your panties aside, showing him how wet you were.

“I didn’t even have to tell you what to do, doll.” he laughed, pulling you in a kiss as he pumped his length a few times, lining up with your entrance. Desperately you kissed back, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

Shinjuro pushed in with one quick thrust, making you gasp against his lips and dig your nails into his back in surprise. Tears prickling in your eyes from the stretch, it hurt a bit but it wasn’t anything you couldn’t take, he was just too big.

“Fuck– you’re so tight.” Shinjuro cursed under his breath, his forehead resting against yours as he started moving, not giving you time to adjust, not having enough self control left to do so. “You’re just too big sir.” you mewled, slowly getting used to his size, the pain turning into pure pleasure, just like how you were slowly melting under his touch. There was no way he was making you feel this good already.

The sounds of his desk creaking, your moans and his groans & skin slapping filled the room, you were lucky everyone already left for the day because there was no way people wouldn’t hear you two like this. Shinjuro didn’t waste his time setting a brutal pace, fucking into you hard and hitting your sweet spot over and over while mumbling the filthiest things into your ear.

If you knew he could fuck like this, maybe you would’ve pursued him earlier. You were cockdrunk already, desperately clinging onto him as he fucked you.

“I-If you wanted a raise, you should’ve said so doll.” Shinjuro groaned, sucking on your chest while locking eyes with yours.

Yeah there was no way he was done with you anytime soon, it wasn’t like you minded though.

#shinjuro rengoku smut #shinjuro smut #rengoku shinjuro smut #shinjuro x reader #shinjuro rengoku x reader #shinjuro x reader smut #rengoku shinjuro x reader #rengoku shinjuro x reader smut #shinjuro rengoku x reader smut #snow writes; smut #summerflingcollab

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ozarkthedog · 6 months

Text

summary: while having a private moment with your boss, the ceo unexpectedly drops by… or so you think.

pairings: Boss!Layla El-Faouly x afab intern!reader x CEO!Marc Spector.

warnings: 18+ only -> mdni. Alt Universe. slight dubcon but reader is willing. power imbalance. free use. f/f -> f/m. established relationship (layla x reader). oral sex (fem receiving). fingering. sex in a private office. dirty talk. praise kink. cum feeding. cream pie.

word count: 3.8k 😅

author’s note: if a fic could come to life, i'd choose this one. thank you to @ghotifishreads for beta'ing and the mental support. i haven't written a fic this long in a while. hope you enjoy. 💙

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ♁ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲

“I have the paperwork all ready for you to sign, Ms. El-Faouly.”

Your boss, Layla, peers up at you with her deep brown eyes from behind her monitor. “Hey, one second. I’ve got to finish this email real quick.” She sends you a soft smile in return before nodding to the right towards a big stack of papers sitting messily on her desk.

Layla had one of the corner offices and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t your favorite spot in the entire building. It floods with sunlight all day long and it’s got a great view of the city. Layla was also another reason why it was your favorite.

“How was your day?” She asks, typing as you place the paperwork on top of the stack.

She’s wearing that dark gray, silk blouse and skirt combo you helped her pick out last week during a night out on the town. You told her it made her look powerful and inviting as you got down on your knees for her later that same evening.

“It’s going alright.” You sigh, drawing imaginary patterns on the corner of her desk.

Layla clicks send on the email and turns her attention to you. She leans her elbows on the edge of her desk with a pensive brow. You can see her brain working on ways to fix your problems before you even tell her. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Nothing is wrong, I swear.” You raise your hands, shaking your head while the gorgeous woman looks you over quizzically.

Stretching your arms over her desk, you grasp her hands, giving them a squeeze. “Honestly, I’m fine. I just..”

“What is it?” she asks, tucking a few strands of her wild curls behind her ear. She leads you around her desk by your clenched hands and pins your chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Tell me.”

Your eyes dance around the room, landing everywhere but on her. She gives your chin a slight shake and forces your eyes back to hers.

You take a deep breath. “Am I doing a good job?”

Layla’s heart sinks. “Of course you are. Why on earth-”

“It’s just, it’s so much work.” You cut her off, spilling your worries now that the dam has been broken. “I hate not being able to get everything to you on time. Not to mention there’s so much paperwork. No one ever says thank you but they’ll definitely yell when you’ve done something wrong. I don’t know if I’m doing things right-”

“C’mere, baby.” She ceases your ramble and pulls you down into her lap and into a searing kiss that makes your head swirl.

Tender, yet fierce lips encompass your own, stealing your gasps with fond affection as she winds her arms around your waist and maneuvers you into the position she wants.

You settle into the pose, kneeling over her lap with your legs on the outsides of her thighs, the cushion of her expensive chair a grateful soft bedding as she forms you to her body.

“Should we really be doing this?” You ask between broken, breathless kisses. It was after 5pm, so it was less likely anyone would walk in on you and her. Still, hesitation nestled in your belly.

“Everyone is gone for the night.” She confirms before lewdly dragging her tongue along the seam of your lips. “There’s no need to worry about them.”

Layla presses her forehead against yours sensing your apprehension. She searches your timid eyes for a moment trying to find the right words to express her gratitude.

“You’re doing a wonderful job. I’ve gotten no complaints from anyone. So if they have an issue, they haven’t told anyone,” she says, holding your gaze. “I’m sorry I haven’t told you more about how lucky I am to have you. My life has been so much better since you started working here.”

She holds your face, rubbing her thumb along the apple of your cheek. “In more ways than one.” She winks, playfully.

“Layla!” You gasp, lightly swatting her on the chest.

She sends you a look you know all too well. The raised eyebrow and slightly parted lips mean trouble is coming. In a good way.

“Oh, baby, you don’t know what you started.” Her hands tickle your ribs in a flash making your eyes bug as you try to keep your giggles at bay. You squirm incessantly in her lap, wishing you could break free but she had a strong hold around your waist.

Your skirt slid up your thighs in the process of all your wriggling, no longer hiding your want for her as your panties are noticeably soaked through.

“Oh, baby, you really are desperate for me.” She coos, eyes growing soft as she feigns a pout. “Poor baby.”

She skillfully undoes the pearly buttons on your white, flower-patterned blouse, sliding the thin material off your shoulders and onto the floor. Soft, warm hands palm your breasts, feeling your heartbeat beneath your skin before she makes you gasp by wickedly pinching your sensitive nipples.

She teases her fingers down further then and along the soaked cloth of your panties, drawing light circles over your throbbing, hidden clit. You whimper into her chocolate curls, a soft pathetic mewl, begging her for more as you perch wearily in her lap.

“What do you say?” she asks with a sharp tongue and pointed stare.

She weaves her arm around your hips, smoothing a palm over the curve of your ass and dragging your panties down in the process before seeking out your aching warmth once more. A well-manicured finger teases down the slick, puffy seam of you from behind, teasing and torturing you until she’s satisfied. She loves breaking you into little pieces and putting you back together.

“Please-” You gasp as your hips buck on their own accord, chasing her fingers for relief. “Please, Layla.”

The older woman’s painted lips tug into a sly smile, “That’s my good girl.”

Your world is consumed. Her brunette curls smell of lavender and spice. They tickle your cheek and senses as she plays your body like a well tuned piano. Her hold on you is immense. There’s never any doubt that she doesn’t adore you.

“Look at me, sweetheart.” Layla coos, grasping the back of your neck with her free hand as her other cups your searing mound. You jolt from the touch but do as she says, meeting her soft yet stoic expression with watery eyes.

She pins you with a firm stare as she slowly presses two fingers into your soaked core. You know better than to turn your gaze from her but your eyes flutter as she finally grants you the sweet relief you’ve been begging for.

“That’s my good girl,” Layla praises as she fills you to the hilt, knuckles grazing your puckered hole and claiming every inch of your cunt.

Deft fingers glide with prowess as a steady, toe curling rhythm is set. Your body trembles as a foggy bliss rolls into your mind. Your knees shake, desperately meeting her thrusts, wanting nothing more than to come around her fingers.

“You take what I give you, sweet girl.” Layla coos, nudging her nose against your cheek. She doesn’t like it when you get greedy. “You know that.”

One of your hands clutches the back of her chair while the other has her blouse in a death grip. A scolding is in your future but you could care less as you rock back onto her fingers chasing the pleasure she’s finally allowing.

Something heavy in your gut twists. The knot Layla began tying when she first got you onto her lap starts tightening. Your muscles ache, ready to collapse under the pressure when she gives you the word.

Just then, a quick succession of knocks rap on her door.

Your head whips up as Layla’s fingers go still. Ice courses through your veins freezing the searing wildfire that burns in your abdomen. You knew it was stupid to try anything at work. Besides the occasionally secretive kiss, you both kept things to a dull roar. No one knew about your relationship and you wanted it to stay that way.

“Shh. Be still.” Layla whispers, unfazed, as she cups her free hand along your jaw. “You trust me. Right?”

You nod in her tender hold, hips pressing just a bit harder into her palm. “Good girl.”

“Who is it?” Layla calls out. Your body jolts as her fingers begin moving again and you send her a bewildered look.

“Marc,” a gruff voice sounds from the other side of the door.

Shit — it was the CEO.

Marc Spector built this company from the ground up. He and Layla had been working together since almost the beginning. They explicitly trusted and respected one another even when they didn’t meet eye to eye.

You’d met Marc only once. It was a brief interaction as one of your coworkers showed you around on your first day. He was personable and made you feel welcome even though you were a lowly intern.

You thought he was handsome and could kill someone with his smile. His jet black quiff would curl on humid days when he forgot to gel it. It made you admire him even more for some reason.

“Come in.” She answers while holding your worried gaze with her own unwavering one.

Your heart jumps into your throat. “Layla, what’re doin-” you hiss, squirming to get free from her arms again.

“Remember your safe word.” she says, quickly just before Marc walks in.

“Layla, I was wonderin-” Marc starts as he steps into the office and instantly cuts himself off at the lewd display.

You can’t breathe. Shame and embarrassment flood your system. If the floor could open up, you’d gladly jump in.

Marc stands in awe. You couldn’t turn to face him but you spy his reflection in the darkened window and that’s more than enough. You don't know how you could ever look him in the eye after this.

“What’s this now?” He ponders, intrigue shaping his words as he steps closer, tapping his knuckles on Layla’s oversized desk.

“I was just rewarding her for doing such a good job,” Layla responds like she doesn’t have you propped in her lap with her fingers buried deep inside your cunt.

You see Marc nod in the reflection and take another step closer. Your body burns like red hot coals as you feel his eyes on your body mainly where Layla’s fingers slowly thrust into your shiny, slick opening.

“That right?” Marc questions with a curious tone as he rubs a hand along his rough five o’clock shadow.

“She’s so attentive and such a hard worker.” Layla praises, finally looking in your direction. “I had to show how much I appreciate her.”

Marc chuckles. It’s a deep huff of laughter that rumbles from his chest and it makes your insides melt. “Is she any good at helping relieve some stress?” he asks pensively while looking at your holes like he hasn’t eaten in days.

“She most certainly is,” Layla smirks, raising a sculpted brow before sliding a finger under your chin, tipping your face in toward her. “Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”

Your heart drops into your stomach.

You’d been with Layla since the first day you started working, shared any and all free time together along with the inner workings of your bedroom. Explored each other’s bodies freely and with such passion. Falling to Layla’s feet came naturally to you and she made you feel complete; loved even.

You trusted her to push your limits whenever the time came but you didn’t think you’d ever be in this situation.

“Why don’t you show him how much you love being employed here, baby.” She dubiously insists, slowly nodding her head for you to comply.

You finally gather the courage to look over your shoulder.

Butterflies flutter wildly in your belly as you take in the devilishly handsome man. His hair is mused, like he’d been running a hand through it all day and his button up shirt is loose at the collar, exposing a column of tan skin with two buttons undone and sleeves rolled up exposing his muscular forearms. “Hey there, sweetheart.”

A nervous chortle bubbles up your throat at the nickname. Your insides turn to jelly; and your brain to mush. Your core can’t help but clench as the older man takes you in with a ravenous gaze.

“Oh, she likes that.” Layla quips upon feeling your pussy clamp down on her fingers.

“Does she now?” Marc croons, stepping up right behind you. He smooths his hands along the shape of you. His warmth feels good against your skin and you can’t help but moan when Layla curls her fingers along that spongy spot that makes you feel lightheaded.

“Damn, that’s a pretty pussy.” He drawls, crouching down behind your bent form. With your ass in the air, you already felt so exposed and now the owner of the company was getting a front row view of the most private parts of you.

Sticky, wet noises fill the room as Layla splays her fingers deep inside your velvet channel. You bite your lip to keep your moans at bay. So overstimulated and heated, you’re not sure how much more you can take.

“Want a taste?’ Layla asks, jogging you from your stupor.

Marc grunts in response. You look back in time to watch Layla feeding him her shiny, cream coated fingers. The debauched noise he makes while he licks and sucks her fingers clean has your heart falling into your lower half.

You meet his lust filled gaze as he stands. Layla’s fingers leave his lips with a pop, and he palms his hard length through his dark slacks. “You gonna show me how good you are at serving your superiors?”

A nervous whimper escapes from your throat at his question.

His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, lapping at some of your fallen cream as he pulls his cock out and gives it a languid tug. You watch dumbstruck as he pumps his length, from the obscenely thick base that’s littered with dark wiry hairs to a bulbous, desert blush tip that weeps in his hand after every twist.

“Is that a yes, sweetheart?” he questions.

A smirk lifts the corners of his mouth at your stupefied gaze. Marc raises a hand and grasps the back of your neck, moving your head in a crude up-down motion. “This is how you say, yes.”

Another deep chuckle burrows into your brain and makes you go even more dumb.

Fire ignites in your belly and races up your body, making your face burn. Your mouth bobs open and closed like a fish, wanting to answer him but you can’t even form the simplest word.

“She tends to go a bit brain dead when she gets overwhelmed.” Layla thankfully answers for you.

She thumbs your cheek. “But that pretty pussy of hers makes up for it.”

“You don’t say…” Marc quips before tapping his tip on your soaked folds. Your slick drips down your inner thighs showing that you would indeed make up for your lack of communication.

He notches the thick head past your dripping opening before slowly sinking into your cunt. He doesn’t stop until he bottoms out, pressing his full length all the way and grinding the cut of his hips against your ass.

“God damn.” Marc grits, hissing through his teeth at the way you squeeze him.

You whimper from the immense stretch. It feels like his cock is burrowing a new space inside your body. “Layla. Too much–” You gasp, having never felt so full before. “So. Big.”

She cups her hands around your face, hushing your cries. “I know, baby. I know.”

Marc’s hips never falter. He plunges into your heat with an unyielding, merciless pace, pushing slick and cream from between your folds, making your belly twist in pleasurable pain.

His strong hands knead your fleshy hips, pulling you back on every brute shove, forcing you to take every inch he gives. “Such a good girl. Doin’ just what we say.”

Your core clenches that much tighter knowing you’re making them happy. “You love it don’t you, pretty girl?” His heavy balls slap against your exposed clit making you mewl and writhe in the combined hold they had on you.

Sticky, sweet bliss drowns your senses. You’re a wanton mess. A plaything between two beautiful gods as they have their fun..

You whine when Marc slows his rhythm, canting his hips so his cock stays buried deep. “I thought you were one of the best.” Marc sighs with a shake of his head, his curls bouncing with the movement. “But it seems you’re not as attentive as I thought.”

Your brow furrows as you look at him over your shoulder.

“I think it’s time to show your Boss how much you appreciate her.”

Marc moves quickly, dragging you out of Layla’s arms and down onto your knees in front of her spread legs. Layla quirks a brow at him.

“What? I wanted to see how attentive she really was.” Marc says, talking about you like you weren’t speared open on his heavy cock.

Layla pulls her dress up over her legs and spreads her thighs. Her panties looked much like your own, wet, sticky, and just begging to be removed.

“Go on. Show her how much you love being on your knees for her.” Marc commands. With a snap of his hips, he jolts your bones and forces your head between Layla’s thighs. “Eat your boss’s cunt.”

Heat flames your face at his words when a familiar hand curves around your jaw. Layla pulls her panties to the side and leads you gently, well as gently as she can while you’re being plowed from behind, to her slick folds.

She sighs as your tongue licks a long stripe from her weeping opening to her clit. You flick the tiny nub, drawing tight circles for a brief moment before sliding down her folds. You lap hungrily at her slit, freely licking into her tight hole and sliding your tongue in and out from her heat.

“There you go.” Layla coos down at you with a smile. She scratches her nails along your scalp making you purr against her clit. She grinds her cunt against your mouth, chasing her pleasure. Nothing made you happier than making Layla feel good. Your core throbs when she gasps and fucks her mound onto your tongue.

A rough, grating moan crawls from Marc’s chest as your cunt quivers and milks his length. “Such a good girl letting us use you like this.” He grits, slamming his hips harder into your ass and knocking your face steadily into Layla’s cunt. “Like you were made for it.”

Your core spasms at his words. You did love being on your knees for them. At their beck and call, wanting to be of service however they needed.

Marc lays his body along your spine, pressing his clothed chest against your bare back, and nuzzles his curved nose along your cheek. A large hand slinks around your hip and notches nimble fingers against your clit, swirling tight circles around the throbbing nub. “Wanna know all the pretty noises you make when you come.”

“Oh, they’re just the sweetest.” Layla moans, breathlessly as your lips lock around her clit. You suckle the tiny nub until

she’s digging her fingers into your hair, writhing and gasping.

Marc groans at the sight of his business partner unfurling with pleasure. His breath is hot in your ear and he crowds you even more, leaving no chance of escape.

“Come on, girl. Be good and come for us.” Marc commands, shifting his hips until his throbbing tip grazes that hidden spot behind your clit.

With Layla humping your face and Marc sheathing his cock further inside you with every shove, you’re pushed to the edge before you can even think. Your cream coated lips fall open with a feverish wail as your body locks tight.

Your muscles shake uncontrollably as you careen off the edge. Your soaked core clenches like a fist, forcing Marc’s pace to stutter and drag him along with you. He lets loose a dark roar when his balls draw up and he fucks your trembling core to the brim with his thick seed.

His cock twitches between your folds, pumping you full with every last drop. “God damn, you weren’t kidding. She more than made up for going all dumb eariler.” He slowly eases from your core with a hiss and tucks his half hard length back into his slacks.

Your head is still reeling from the powerful orgasm and Marc’s compliment makes you just that much more lightheaded. Thank goodness you were already on the ground.

“Oh you’re making such a mess.” Layla gasps when she sees the thick river of white that runs down your thighs. Your knees ache from being on the hard carpet for so long but the pain is forgotten as the pair crowds over you.

You whine as Layla and Marc drag their fingers through the hot stickiness and press them into your mouth.

You gag heavily around the two sets of fingers, tears pricking your eyes as they cover your tongue in the combined spend. “Good girl. Clean up the mess you made.” Marc nods slowly, heavy lidded with a deep moan of satisfaction as you choke and sputter while Layla proudly smiles down at you. “Did so well for me; for us.”

She shares a curious look with Marc before turning her gaze back to you and thumbs the last bit of white into your mouth.

“Might need to borrow her again sometime soon.” Marc comments as they help you onto your feet. “You know how stressed I can get.”

Your legs are shaky, like a newborn doe, as Layla brushes down your crumpled skirt while Marc helps you back into your blouse, securely buttoning you up.

“We’ll see about that.” Layla responds as she gathers you into her arms and sits back down on her chair, tucking your sleepy head under her chin.

“I’ll see you ‘round the office, sweetheart.” He raises a hand and tenderly grazes your dewy temple with his knuckles.

As he sees himself out, he winks at Layla and she smirks before he shuts the door leaving the two of you in peaceful silence.

As you relax in Layla’s arms, burrowing yourself into her safe warmth, you notice through sleepy eyes that her monitor is still on. The email she was typing when you dropped off the paperwork lights up the screen.

𝚃𝙾: 𝙼𝚊𝚛𝚌 𝚂𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚘𝚛 (𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌)

𝚂𝚞𝚋𝚓𝚎𝚌𝚝: 𝙵𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚘𝚠 𝚞𝚙 - 𝚂𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚁𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚏

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎. 𝚂𝚑𝚎'𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞.

𝙻𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚊 𝙴𝚕-𝙵𝚊𝚘𝚞𝚕𝚢

𝙲𝙵𝙾 𝙺𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝙸𝚗𝚌

*evil laughter* they were in cahoots the entire time!

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

follow @ozzieslibrary for fic notifs!

#layla el faouly #marc spector #Layla el faouly x reader #layla el faouly x reader x marc spector #marc spector x reader #oscar isaac #may calamawy

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