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ellastone-olsen · 11 months ago

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Fucked my way up to the top - Wanda Maximoff

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: You just got your first job in your life and suspiciously quickly became an assistant to the director of the company. Where's the catch?

Pairing: ceo!Wanda Maximoff × f!reader

Warnings: NSFW, dom!Wanda, sub!reader, age gap (W34 R21), mommy kink, strap on usage (W), blow job (R), pet names

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.2k

AN: inspired by lana del rey i really love that song

You just graduated from a college you didn't even want to go to. Wrong college, wrong specialty, but as a result, very much the right job. After one day you began to believe in fate and that this entire chain of events in your life was a blessing from above. After all if it weren’t for the strong nature of your parents who sent you to study, you would never have met Wanda.

At some point, you thought that you would never find a job in your specialty until you saw the ideal vacancy: the salary, the location of the office, the schedule, the educational requirements, everything suited you. There definitely had to be a catch somewhere. And it definitely was.

“No, put it in its place, I don’t need these papers and coffee right now. I have a meeting Y/N, why answer me i need coffee? Just think for once with your pretty little head.�� That catch was your boss, Wanda Maximoff. That's what you thought at first.

You trotted behind her on the way to the conference room; in general, the very fact that the director of the company took you on as her personal assistant was already a great success. Some worked in one place for years and remained as an office clerk. And then Wanda Maximoff took you to bring her coffee, not the hardest job, especially for the money that you were paid.

When you entered the room, the hall was empty. One characteristic feature of your boss was excessive punctuality, you realized this in your first week of work. You took your place at the head of the table next to her when you felt manicured hands rest on your shoulders, stroking them. That was the second thing about Wanda Maximoff, she loved to touch you, a lot. Sometimes she would tuck a stray strand behind your ear, sometimes she would stroke your thigh; in general, such touches from her were nothing new. If you said you didn't enjoy it, you'd be lying. Wet dreams with her began to visit you in the third week of work.

And now, from her touch, you could feel your core throbbing. To your great regret, at that moment the conference room began to fill with people. As important and powerful as Wanda. To be honest, you didn’t understand that such a small employee like you was even doing here.

The meeting lasted about an hour and during this time you could feel with your whole being how tense your boss was. Everything was definitely not going the way she wanted; one of the men opposite was already starting to scream, unable to prove that he was right. The deal was on the verge of failure. “Okay gentlemen, I think that’s enough for today. We’ll continue tomorrow.” Wanda could not stand it and marked the end of this meeting.

When the hall was empty, the woman sat down in a chair with her legs spread, a sigh escaped her lips and one hand again lay on your thigh, squeezing it. "Fucking bastards." She muttered and your gaze caught the older woman's pants. She wore an expensive formal suit with a bulge imprinted on the trousers. Your eyes widened, your breath caught in your throat as you wondered what her purpose was..."See something you like?" You jumped at the question, scared that you had been caught. One of Wanda's hands strokes your thigh, moving up closer to your already dripping pussy while the other massages her fake cock through the fabric of her pants. You look at her expressionless face and nod in response to the question.

"On your knees". The chair moves back with a creak, giving you space. You stand in front of her to look into her eyes, darkened with lust, for a second and fall to your knees. Hands immediately reach for her trousers, sorting out the belt and pulling them off along with her underwear. A red strap jumps out in front of your face and you start to get nervous about the size. “I don’t think it will fit..”. You are interrupted by a grip in your hair. "Don't worry baby girl I'll make it fit now suck my cock."

She guides your head towards her length and you curl your tongue around the tip as if she can feel it. You raise your eyes and look at her, and then shut your mouth on her dick, feeling tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. Her palm cups your cheek and her thumb wipes away drops of moisture, “Oh my sweet girl wants to please her mommy so bad.” She helps you by guiding your head up and down her length, your panties are hopelessly ruined and you squirm, looking for some kind of relief. Wanda lifts her hips so that your nose touches her stomach and holds you like that for a few seconds. When your boss lets you go, your makeup is hopelessly ruined and you gasp for air.

"Such a good sweet girl. Do you want mommy to put her dick inside you? Do you want me to stretch you out and fuck you until you forget your name?" You are still kneeling in front of her and a pathetic whine comes out of your mouth, “Please mommy I really need you to fuck me.” Wanda likes your answer and growls, she pulls you to your feet and then bends you over the large office desk. Your cheek is pressed against the cold surface, the older woman has already hiked up your skirt to your waist and is stroking your throbbing pussy through the fabric of your cotton panties.“My, my, you’re already absolutely wet and I haven’t touched you yet. Do you like sucking mommy’s cock so much? Maybe next time should I fuck this beautiful, capable mouth mmm?" A sharp slap on your ass makes you gasp. "Yes yes please I will like it so much.”

Your underwear falls to your ankles and the tip of her cock teases your throbbing clit and then runs through the folds, collecting your arousal. Without warning, she fills you to the edge and started to pound at a slower pace than you would like. You gasp from the stretch "Mommy it's too big. Feel so full." Her pace increases, her hand finds your swollen clit and rubs it making you cry. "That's my good girl. Taking me so well. Come on baby mommy needs to de-stress after these bastards." Wanda leans over you and bites your neck as she continues to pound into you at a faster pace, your velvet walls starting to clench around her length. "Oh fuck Ms. Maximoff I'm close I gonna cum." Wanda’s cock hits that nice spot inside you so deliciously, pushing you inexorably to the edge. "Come on baby, cum for me. Show mommy how good she fucks you." Her fingers rub your sensitive bud faster and you see stars cumming all over her cock, crying out inaudible curses into the silence of the office. She continues to move, prolonging your orgasm until your breathing evens out.

She pulls out her faux cock and then a pair of strong arms turns you around so you're face to face so she can press her lips to yours in a leisurely kiss. Wanda walks back to sit back in her chair, holding you by the waist, pulling you behind her so that you sit on her lap. “I was not mistaken in choosing you as my assistant.”

#SoundCloud #wanda fanfic #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda marvel #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff smut #scarlet witch

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kingkatsuki · 2 years ago

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Everyone leaving a business course in Japan knows that Dynamight PR is THE job to get. Everyone strives and works for it without really knowing what they’re getting into. They just know it’s the highest paying job you can get and you’ll either never need to go job hunting again, or you’ll have an amazing job on your CV. That is until they work there and realise that Dynamight is a dog that cannot be contained by his PR team and the reason you get hired on the spot if you go looking for other jobs is ‘well if you can work for Dynamight, you can work for anyone’

I could write about this trope for hours I’m so obsessed with it— he’d make your job so insufferable whilst simultaneously being the best part of it😫

On paper, a job at Dynamight’s agency is the dream for anyone in business— never mind a student fresh out of school with no experience. Strict NDA’s meant there was little information about what a job working for Dynamight’s PR team was really like, but the fact that his current manager was signed off sick for stress should’ve been an indication of what the job would be like for you.

You didn’t meet Dynamight during your interview, even though it was held at his agency. A fact you found a little peculiar, thinking a Hero climbing the rankings would be invested in who he’d have as his PR assistant— especially as it could help further his career, but it didn’t surprise you. Dynamight was one of the most in-demand heroes, with the media, fans and public desperate for his attention. Of course he wouldn’t have the time to interview everyone that applied for the job.

But you didn’t even meet Dynamight when you got the job. The three weeks since had been surprisingly calm, surprisingly easy. You’d spend your days filtering through emails, most of them from fans who’d beg for a chance of meeting the Pro, or autographs or merch. Not unlike a lot of the emails from the media, trying to arrange interviews or publicity stunts while trying to offer their fees.

The only complaint you’d received was from a young photographer that hadn’t known any better when he shoved his camera directly under Bakugou’s nose during a rescue mission, the hulking Pro carrying an injured civilian over one of his broad shoulders as he grabbed the camera with his palm. The heat of his quirk no match for the intricate technology as it melted beneath his touch, effectively destroying the memory card as he let it drop to the ground. The only evidence a blurry, charred JPEG of Bakugou’s angry face as he reached out for the device. The complaint quickly settled with a new photography set as compensation, as well as a well scripted apology from the Pro. An apology, which you soon realised, was carefully scripted by yourself and signed by the Pro-Hero himself.

“What do you want?” You hadn’t expected these to be the first words your new boss would say to you, and yet here you were.

“Oh, I’m your new PR assistant,” You understood now why people felt intimidated in his presence. Crimson eyes shot you a glare from across the room before he quickly went back to the laptop on his desk, even though thick-rimmed glasses he still felt as intimidating as ever. Even if he did look much cuter like this— “I just need you to sign this apology to the photographer from last week—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ signing that shit,” He scoffed, “Tell that prick he’s lucky it wasn’t his head.”

Now you understood why there were always vacancies available for this job.

You were certain Dynamight wasn’t trying to make your job difficult on purpose, he always seemed to answer your calls when he was inside his office— even if it was usually with an abrupt “what?”. And he even agreed to tone down his aggressive views online, “Fine, sweetheart. I’ll cut the fuckin’ politics. But you know those fuckers need tellin’ how dumb they are”. The peace could only ever be short lived, because no matter how hard you tried, things just seemed to get worse.

If the hero commission weren’t a bunch of pussies Deku wouldn’t be number one for another year in a row.

“Oh my god,” Your eyes squinted as you read the tweet at six in the morning, before you’d even had a chance to wake up and get ready for the day.

The likes and retweets continued to grow as you began to get messages from your team at the agency, and the media as you contemplated just never coming back.

Usually someone in the IT department would lock his account just in time, or intercept the tweets but it wasn’t always quick enough. You really were in the trenches as you decided to take matters into your own hands. Scrolling to your contacts as you called your boss immediately, pinching the bridge of your nose to try and calm the migraine you knew was coming on.

“You’re callin’ a bit late for a bootycall, sweetheart—” He grunted, his breathing laboured on the other side of the phone so you assumed he was at the gym. Or so you hoped, not wanting to imagine him on top of another woman whilst talking to you, “Don’t you start work in an hour?”

“Cut the crap, Bakugou,” You snapped, irritated by the offensive tweet mere hours after he’d promised to tone it down, “You said no more ridiculous tweets.”

“You said no more ridiculous tweets,” He mimicked your tone, “I’m just posting pure fuckin’ facts and you know it. If the commission weren’t so far up Deku’s ass I’d be number one by now.”

“No,” You growled, “If you weren’t such an insufferable asshole all the fucking time and actually tried to show up to some of the events that were organised for you, you might actually have a chance of changing public perception of you. Nevermind the simple fact that Deku had better numbers than you this month. Deku’s number one because he deserves to be, but you deserve it too. So maybe if you fixed up we could get you there, but instead you choose to be a jerk.”

You couldn’t believe the words had left your mouth. Every single ounce of annoyance and irritation you’d felt working under Dynamight for the past month had spewed out in under thirty seconds. The emotions you’d kept bottled up every time you received a new complaint or read a new interview or post from Bakugou, now released from your system.

And even though you were certain that you’d lost your job now, at least you could say that you’d given your notice in style.

“Well shit,” You heard the running stop on the other side of the phone as you assumed he paused his treadmill, panting into the receiver.

“I’m sorry, sir,” You sighed, “Maybe it’s better if you get someone else for the job—”

“I like it when you’re pissed, sweetheart.” He cut you off completely, catching you off guard, “I’ll see you in an hour. You can tell me exactly what you want me to do.”

#YOU KNOW HE’S HIDING HIS CHUB ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE PHONE #bakugou x reader

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 2 years ago

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Light the Way - Part One

Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x female character (third person) Warnings: Angst, date rape/roofies, slight BDSM Word count: ~4k Series masterlist

Chapter summary: Starting a new job is never easy, it's even worse when your boss is an arsehole. When he unexpectedly comes to the rescue though, the relationship dynamic changes drastically.

She graduated from university a year ago with a Bachelor’s degree in PR and Marketing, and still has no idea what she wants from life, although the last twelve months of working as a barista have proven to her that a career in hospitality and customer service is definitely not it. Having happened across an online advertisement of a vacancy for the position of a personal assistant at a private law firm, she applied on a whim, never expecting to hear back. It’s not like she was qualified anyway, so she had nothing to lose

Yet, here she is, almost four weeks later, standing in the foyer of Red Keep Legal, preparing to begin her first day. The office building is sleek and modern, minimalist in decor, yet the polish of everything suggests it is incomprehensibly expensive. A handsome, bearded, older man, dressed in a sharp suit collects her from reception. She learns his name is Otto Hightower and he is a partner at the firm. They are high end solicitors and only take on the most exclusive of clients. She turns his business card over in her hands, the thickness of the smooth, matte black cardstock is high quality, with ornate golden lettering and a blood red logo of a three headed dragon. She knows she has seen that logo before, but can’t place where exactly.

“You’ll be a personal assistant to my grandson, Aemond.” Otto tells her. “He’s working on a particularly tricky case at the moment, so you’ll be responsible for ensuring he has everything he needs. I imagine he won’t ask you to do much more than get him coffee.”

So there it was, the reason she’d gotten the job. She was hoping her coffee making days were behind her, but no such luck. She sighs inwardly, the bitter irony is almost comical.

“Anyway, if you have no further questions, I shall introduce you to Aemond.” Otto concludes.

She smiles and nods politely as he turns on his heel and leads her towards the elevator, stopping on the second to last floor. She follows him along a marble floored corridor, before he gently raps his knuckles against the rich mahogany of an office door. After a few moments the door swings open to reveal the most ethereal being she’d ever laid eyes upon. He is impossibly tall without being gangly or awkward; his long, lithe limbs flow like water as he props himself against the doorframe. His silky, silver locks are perfectly coiffed and she feels self conscious as the bright blue of his right eye scans all the way from her feet to the top of her head, analysing every inch. She notices the skin around his left eye is lightly scarred - the only indication that the realistic prosthetic that sits within the socket isn’t something he can actually see out of. The simple long sleeved top and black trousers she’s wearing suddenly feel drab in comparison to the well tailored navy blue suit he wears, and she fights the urge to hide herself.

“Aemond, this is your new personal assistant.” Otto informs him, gesturing towards her. “Your mother and I worked hard to find this one, so perhaps you could try being a little more cordial than last time.”

She doesn’t stop to think about what that could possibly mean, letting out a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding in and rushing forward, smiling wide and extending a hand.

“Hi Aemond! It’s wonderful to meet you!”

His plush, full lips remain unmoving, as he stuffs his hands into his pockets, not returning the gesture and continuing to study her.

She drops her hand, feeling deflated and laughs nervously.

Clearly not picking up on the awkwardness, or simply not caring, Otto glances between the two of them, before giving a curt nod and striding back towards the elevator.

Aemond watches him go before returning his attention back to her.

“Wonderful to meet me, hm?” he finally says, quirking an eyebrow.

Before she can respond, he continues, “Look, I’ve told my grandfather I don’t need an assistant and I like my own space. I’m looking over some contracts at the moment, so I would prefer it if you could make yourself scarce.” He disappears from view, allowing his office door to close behind him.

She immediately feels miserable. Her shoulders slump as she stands in front of the closed door. The first day of a new job should feel exciting, especially when your boss is so breathtakingly handsome, but this guy is rude and has declared her useless within minutes of meeting her. For a moment she considers just walking out and not returning.

She spends the remainder of the day sitting at her desk that’s positioned to the outer left of Aemond’s door. No one goes in or out, and not once does she catch sight of him. As far as first days go this is undoubtedly the worst she has ever experienced. As tempting as it is to just bail and head home, she desperately needs the cash, so she watches the hours slowly tick by on the off chance her stand-offish boss may suddenly decide he needs something. By the time 6pm rolls around, and she stands to gather her things, her legs have cramped from sitting for so long and she curses herself for only stretching her legs on the few occasions she went to the bathroom.

Arriving home, she finds her flatmate isn’t back yet and breathes a sigh of relief, knowing she’d be bombarded with questions about her first day and not have a positive answer for any of them. She uses the opportunity to pace the flat, rifling through the contact sheet and paperwork she has been given. She sighs when she happens upon the number listed for Aemond - what was the point of having the number of someone who seemingly wanted nothing to do with her? She saves it to her phone anyway, tomorrow was a new day after all. Perhaps she’ll score a few brownie points if she texts and offers to grab him coffee on her way to the office. She still can’t figure out why he’d been so cold towards her. Flopping down on the couch with a glass of wine, she boots up her laptop, deciding to do some research on Aemond Targaryen, as she realises that beyond meeting him today and knowing he works for one of the most prestigious law firms in all of Westeros, she really knows nothing about the man she is supposed to be working for.

She wakes up early the next morning, armed with a plan. Her evening of wine-fuelled research had been fruitful. She’d discovered that Aemond was from a family of famous Valyrian legal, political and business figures. Her recognition of the logo on Otto’s card was because it was regularly splashed across all of the major tabloid and broadsheet newspapers. She’d read through a few old articles regarding family drama, disputes over assets, and the death of his father to get an idea of who he was, before deciding his cold demeanour is likely attributed to the combined stress of his job and seemingly endless rifts between his mother and half-sister. She decides that if she is to break down his walls then she will do so with kindness, but she also wants to look the part - if she is to fit in with such sophisticated people then she needs to start dressing like one. She slips into a pencil skirt so fitted it looks like it has been painted on, alongside a sheer white blouse and a killer pair of black stilettos. She completes the look with perfectly styled hair and a thick coat of blood red lipstick. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t vying for more than Aemond’s professional attention, but she’d try anything at this point just to get him to acknowledge her presence. Giving herself a last once over look in the mirror, she fires off what she considers to be a breezy good morning text to Aemond, before heading to the coffee shop she used to work at. “Good morning Mr. Targaryen! Hope you’re well today. I’ll grab you a coffee on my way to the office. See you soon!”

Arriving exactly thirty minutes later, coffees in hand, she is disappointed to see that she’s been left on read. Nevermind. She has gone all out with the coffee order, asking for the special roast of beans with an extra shot and foamed milk. This was sure to win him over. She knocks timidly at his office door and after a long moment is about to knock again when it swings slowly open with a perfectly poised Aemond on the other side. God, he was breathtaking.

She realises she has gone too long without saying anything when he snaps out an impatient “Yes?” She jumps slightly, stepping forward into his office without an invitation. Aemond cautiously backs away, his brow furrowing with suspicion and confusion.

She thrusts one of the cups towards him, “Umm…I text you. Did you - uh - coffee?” Great, now I’ve lost the fucking power of speech.

Aemond gingerly accepts the cup from her, without saying thank you. “Are you always this articulate?” He says flatly, before taking a sip. His nose instantly wrinkles, “Ugh, does this have milk in it? I’m allergic to dairy."

Her eyes widen in horror, "Oh gods,, I’m so sorry! I should have thought to ask, I can always get you-"

"Forget it.” He cuts her off, “That will be all for the day, before you try to poison me any further. Close the door on your way out.”

Fantastic, another day sat at my desk, except this time I’m dressed like a cheap escort.

The confidence she’d felt when she stepped out of the door this morning had been crushed flat by Aemond in a matter of seconds. She sits with her hands clasped tightly in front of her on the desk, willing her unshed tears away. Did he want her to quit? She’d placed everything on this job and she didn’t want to give it up without a fight. Sje simply couldn’t understand why Aemond seemed to hate her so much.

After a few hours pass by, she notices it is lunch time - he has to take a break some time. She decides that now is when she’ll make her move. Standing purposefully, she sniffs back her tears and checks her make-up in her compact mirror, before strutting back towards Aemond’s door. She’ll give that arsehole a piece of her mind. It was about time he learned to respect her.

She bursts into Aemond’s office without knocking. “Just who in the hell do you think you are?!” she rants, not waiting for his reaction to her sudden intrusion.

He looks up from the documents he has been reading and stares at her, but his expression is unreadable.

He stays silent, so she continues her tirade. “I didn’t have a fucking clue who you were when I accepted this job, despite that I’ve treated you with nothing but respect and you can’t even extend me the same courtesy!” She paces as she yells at him, gesticulating wildly. There’s a part of her telling her to stop, that this behaviour will likely get her fired, but at this point it would have been like attempting to put toothpaste back in the tube. “I know you think you’re hot shit, but that doesn’t exempt you from behaving like a decent human being.” She stops and looks at him then, his face still a mask of neutrality as he gazes up at her from his seat at the desk. “Why aren’t you saying anything?!” She demands.

“Oh, are you done?” He replies sarcastically.

She throws her hands up in exasperation, eliciting a huge sigh at his complete lack of emotion.

Accepting her reaction as affirmation, he diverts his attention back to his paperwork and mutters “Well, if that’s all, you know where the door is.”

It takes all of her willpower not to grab the nearest object and launch it towards his head. She storms outside, slamming the door as she goes. Fuck this. Walking purposefully straight to the elevator, she lets it take her to the ground floor before hastily exiting the office building. There was absolutely no way she was spending another second in this godforsaken building.

Arriving home she throws her keys a little too aggressively onto the kitchen counter and heads straight towards the fridge, grabbing for the can of whipped cream. As she loudly squirts an unhealthy sized swirl of it into her mouth, her flatmate, Rhea, looks up from her laptop with an amused smile and asks “Rough morning?”

She hadn’t noticed her sitting at the dining table, too engrossed in her own foul mood to have any awareness of her surroundings. “Think I lost my job.” She slurs without bothering to swallow.

Rhea closes the lid of her laptop and rushes to pull her into a bear hug. Finally releasing her, she smiles kindly and wipes cream from her chin, before saying “First of all, you’re gross, and second, how has that happened? You’ve been there less than 48 hours!”

“It’s a long story.” She sighs, “The short version is that my boss is an arsehole, so I yelled at him and then left the office.”

“Oh.” Rhea winces, “That’s bad.”

“What the fuck am I going to do?!” She whines, rubbing her temples.

“Well, it might not solve your impending unemployment, but we could go out tonight?”

“Are you high right now, Rhea?! The only thing I’ll be doing tonight is looking at the classifieds!”

“Come on, you were miserable for so long in your last job and don’t seem to be faring much better in this one. You deserve a little fun!”

“I dunno…”

“I’m not taking no for an answer! I’m working from home today, so having a reason to leave the flat later will keep me sane. Plus you don’t even need to get changed - you are wearing that outfit!”

“Fine. I guess one drink couldn’t hurt.”

Rhea squeals with excitement, clapping her hands. “Amazing! Now be a doll and fuck off until 7pm, I have to concentrate.”

Rhea returns to her laptop while she retreats to her room, wondering if there will ever be a point this week where she isn’t being told to go away by someone.

The bar they end up at later that evening is loud and overcrowded. Despite that, she can feel herself relaxing. Perhaps it was the second white wine she was sipping or the steady beat of the music causing her to sway your hips involuntarily, but for the first time in two days she wasn't thinking about Aemond. She sighs contentedly, draining her glass and flashing Rhea a toothy grin as she pushes through the crowd with their next round of drinks.

“Having fun?” Rhea half shouts over the cacophony of noise.

Nodding, she grabs her hand, dragging her towards the dance floor. She chugs her drink as they both move to the rhythm of the song playing. She feels woozy and attributes it to drinking too much wine too fast.

“You want water?” She shouts to Rhea, making a drinking motion with her hand. Rhea nods gratefully and she staggers her way to the bar. She can feel her vision shifting in and out of focus and getting her legs to work the way she wants them to is proving difficult. Changing course, she heads outside, deciding a few lungfuls of fresh air will help set her straight.

As she slides down the brick exterior of the building she barely notices the dark figure that has followed her outside. “Easy.” A gruff male voice says, though in her mind it sounds far away, “Just relax.” Rough hands paw at her as her head flops around on a neck that feels boneless.

“Get the fuck off her.” She hears a familiar voice snarl demandingly. The man is gone in a flash and replaced instead by someone crouching in front of her, cupping her cheeks and coaxing her to look up into a concerned blue eye.

“Aemond?” She slurs.

“Keep looking at me.” Aemond says, cradling her head, “I’m fairly certain that that prick spiked your drink. I’m going to make sure you get home safely, but you need to stay awake, okay?”

Her eyes are glassy and Aemond blurs and duplicates in her vision as he keeps her face tilted up towards him. “Rhea.” She mumbles groggily.

As if summoned by the utterance of her name, her room mate pushes her way out of the bar, phone in hand, looking left and right. When she finally catches sight of her slumped on the ground with a man crouching over her, she shrieks and runs towards her. “What are you doing to her?!”

“Helping her.” Aemond replies flatly, without looking away from her. “Pretty sure she’s been spiked.”

“Jesus!” Rhea squeals, kneeling at her side, before finally looking over at Aemond. “Holy shit! You’re Aemond Targaryen! Your uncle is so hot!”

Aemond rolls his eye, hooking his arms around the body of the semi-conscious woman in front of him and slowly lifting her to her feet.

“Should we call the police?” Rhea asks, slowly realising the gravity of the situation.

Aemond turns to stare at her. “It will take an hour for them to get here.” He explains. “And when they do they’ll just file a report which they’ll never follow up on. Our time is better spent getting her home, so she’s at least safe. I’m assuming you know where she lives?”

Rhea nods. “We’re flatmates.”

Aemond momentarily supports her weight with a single arm as he fishes his phone out of his pocket, unlocks it and passes it to Rhea. “Order an Uber”.

“Thanks for helping her.” Rhea says, as the Uber finally pulls up to the curb. They waited in total silence and any excitement Rhea had felt at having met Aemond was rapidly dissipating into awkward discomfort. “I can look after her from here.” She moves to take her from the supporting hold he has on her.

“Because you’ve done such an incredible job of that so far.” He retorts icily. “I’m coming with you.”

He maneuveres her limp form into the back of the car as Rhea makes her way around to the other side to sit next to her. She is surprised to see Aemond fold his tall frame into the backseat beside her, fully expecting him to ride shotgun. The drive back is tense and uncomfortable. She sits unconscious, sandwiched between the two of them, her heading lolling against Aemond’s shoulder.

“So…” Rhea begins, attempting to break the silence, “You’re the arsehole boss then?”

It was intended as a joke, but Aemond’s humourless chuckle instantly makes her cheeks burn at having said something so rude. “Is it true you’re going to fire her?”

Aemond seems surprised at that. “No,” He says simply. “I won’t expect to see her in the office tomorrow, she’ll need a day to recover, but tell her to be there at 9am sharp on Thursday. And I take my coffee black.”

“Sure.” Rhea smiles meekly. By this point, the Uber has pulled up to its destination. “Would you like to uh…?” She asks, gesturing towards the block of flats.

“No, I think you’ll be fine from here.” He responds, “Goodnight.”

With that, Rhea is left to help her out of the car, which pulls away as soon as she's closed the door.

The next day she awakens with no memory of the evening before, feeling like she has the mother of all hangovers. She swears loudly as she looks at the time and realises it’s almost midday. If she wasn’t fired before, she certainly was now.

Hearing she is awake, Rhea sweeps into the room with a tall glass of water for her. She fills her in on the details of the previous evening and she listens in stunned silence. She spends the rest of the day in bed, struggling to process what has happened to her and the fact that a man she’d assumed hated her had come so valiantly to her rescue.

Thursday morning rolls around quickly and she dresses simply in black trousers and a sensible cardigan. She heads to grab Aemond his morning coffee; black coffee. No sooner had she deposited the cup into his hand had apologies begun tumbling from her lips, saying sorry for how she’d spoken to him, sorry for storming off, sorry for him having to look after her. He cuts her off, sliding a sheet of paper towards her.

“This,” He begins, “Is a list of things I need you to do for me today. Think you can handle it?”

She nods, stunned at finally being asked to help him out.

“Perfect. See you later.”

The day passes in a blur and she struggles. This is the first day she’s actually performing the job she has been hired to do and the busy, demanding nature of a prestigious law firm was worlds apart from the past two days of sitting at her desk and sulking. She gets lost trying to deliver documents to various people’s offices, forgets to seal contracts in confidential envelopes and accidentally hangs up on no less than five clients while trying to transfer their calls. It is a complete disaster.

She sits, highlighting every instance of the word “Harrenhal” in a document, feeling totally overwhelmed. How could anyone manage to be so bad at a relatively simple job?! The truth was, she kept finding herself distracted, thinking about what had happened to her two nights ago. What would have happened if Aemond hadn’t shown up? She caps the highlighter pen, resting her head in her hands and fails to suppress a sob.

Hearing his office door open, she turns to face Aemond as he exits, attempting to compose herself, but knows he has likely already seen her crying. “Sorry.” She whispers. “I’m just having a bad day. Ignore me.” She sniffles and wipes her eyes.

Silently Aemond beckons her into his office, maintaining eye contact as he does so.

She follows obediently, dread gnawing at her insides, certain he’s going to fire her.

“Kneel.” He quietly commands, once the door is closed behind them.

“What?!” Her eyes widen in shock.

“Trust me, you need this. Kneel.” He insists.

She does as she is told, kneeling before him, gazing up at his impossibly tall frame with curiosity.

He slowly reaches out a hand, fingers gently grazing her jawline, before running a thumb over her lips. He pushes gently, parting them and meeting the resistance of her teeth. “Open”.

This time she doesn’t question his request, silently accepting the alien intrusion of Aemond’s thumb into her mouth. Instinctively she feels herself sucking on the digit and gradually relaxes. The sensation sends a throb of arousal straight to her core. She’d never experienced anything like this before, but seeing him tower over her, offering his thumb for her to suck was strangely erotic.

“Better?” He asks.

She simply nods, doe-eyed and staring at him in awe.

“Good.” He smiles slightly, stooping down until his lips are ghosting the shell of her ear. It makes her shiver. “I much preferred Tuesday’s outfit, by the way. Maybe that can make a reappearance tomorrow?”

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allthecanadianpolitics · 5 months ago

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In Quebec, 1,460 tenant households that are looking for accommodation and are at risk of being without a lease on July 1 are being supported by a rehousing assistance service. Of these, 224 are in Montreal. The vacancy rate in several of the province's cities is also at an all-time low, adding to the strain. The Old Brewery Mission in Montreal says demand for its homelessness prevention services is exploding. "It's getting more intense as we get closer to July 1. A lot of people have known for months that it was going to be a problem [finding accommodation], but they're now pushing the panic button," said James Hughes, the mission's CEO.

Tagging: @newsfromstolenland

#montreal #quebec #french canadian #cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news #housing #cost of living #renting

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jobtamizhan · 2 years ago

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TNHRCE Recruitment 2022 48 Sthapathis Vacancy

TNHRCE Recruitment 2022 48 Sthapathis Vacancy #jobtamizhan #govtjobs #governmentrecruitment #centralgovtjobs #tnpsc #upsc #ssc

TNHRCE – Tamil Nadu Hindu Religious and Charitable Endowments Department Recruitment 2022 Inviting the Application for the Following Posts Sthapathis. Totally 48 Vacancies are Available for This Job. Candidates Need to Apply Offline Via Posts for These Posts. the Work Location is Chennai, Tamilnadu Government Official Release The Notification Interested and Eligible Candidate Please Must Check…

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#assistant sthapathis jobs #government jobs 2022 #government jobs 2022 in tamil #hindu aranilaya thurai recruitment 2022 application #latest government job vacancies 2022 #latest government jobs 2022 #sthapathis jobs #tamilnadu post office recruitment 2022 #tn government jobs 2022 #tn hrce recruitment 2022 #tnhrce chennai recruitment 2023 #tnhrce eo recruitment 2022 #tnhrce recruitment 2022 #TNHRCE Recruitment 2022 48 Sthapathis Vacancy #tnhrce recruitment 2022 application form #today employment news 2022 #vacancy

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jobsnotices · 3 months ago

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New Job Opportunity at NIC ASIA Laghubitta 2081: Trainee Assistant to Senior Branch Manager

New Job Opportunity at NIC ASIA Laghubitta 2081: Trainee Assistant to Senior Branch Manager. Interested and qualified candidates are invited to apply within 15 days of publication of this notification. JOB OPPORTUNITY New Job Opportunity at NIC ASIA Laghubitta 2081: Trainee Assistant to Senior Branch Manager NIC ASIA Laghubitta Bittiya Sanstha Limited is a reputed microfinance financial…

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#Assistant/Senior Assistant #Banking Career #banking jobs #Job Vacancy #Jobs In Nepal #Laghubitta Vacancy #New Job Opportunity at NIC ASIA Laghubitta 2081 #NIC ASIA Laghubitta Bittiya Sanstha Limited #Officer #Senior Branch Manager #Senior Officer #Supervisor #Trainee Assistant

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lkcareer · 9 months ago

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Office Assistant Job Vacancies 2024 - Sri Lanka Medical Council

Explore the job vacancies at Sri Lanka Medical Council for the year 2024. Apply for the Office Assistant position with GCE O Level qualification.

#job vacancies in sri lanka #job vacancies 2024 #Office Assistant #Sri Lanka Medical Council #lanka career

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magicfootballstuff · 2 years ago

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Strictly Unprofessional - part 1 (alexia putellas x reader)

Summary: You’ve just landed your dream job as a photographer at FC Barcelona Femení. The only problem? You hooked up with the captain five years ago and haven’t seen her since.

Part 1/9

Read other parts here.

———

Like anybody would be on the first day of a new job, you’re nervous.

It’s your first job as a full time photographer. You’ve only done freelance or part-time work before - mostly events, some portraits, and one brief stint as an assistant to a photographer who specialized in taking photos of pets - but you were also waitressing in the evenings to earn enough to pay your bills.

Today you start as a photographer for the Barcelona women’s football team. You heard about the vacancy from a friend of a friend and applied, and finally all the hard work at media school and years of worrying when your next job would come in is worth it because they offered you the position.

There’s another reason you’re nervous. You actually met one of the players before, a random encounter with none other than the Barcelona captain Alexia Putellas while in Ibiza five years ago. Not that you knew who she was at the time. You met her at a beach party and though she told you she was a footballer, you were much more interested in letting her buy you drinks and going back to her hotel room later in the night. It was only later, when you returned home to Barcelona, that you took the time to look her up and realized she was actually quite good.

Since then she’s become a global star. It’s a little weird seeing the face of somebody you once had a meaningless hookup with on a billboard or on the front of a magazine. Sometimes you wonder if she even remembers who you are.

Well, you guess you’ll find that out today.

You nearly didn’t apply for the job because of Alexia. You haven’t had many one night stands and you don’t really know what the etiquette is supposed to be when you bump into them years later, but you eventually decided that the job itself was too good to pass up because of a bit of potential awkwardness between you and one of the players.

It’s been five years. It’ll be fine.

You decide to dress smart-casual on your first day, wanting to impress without going overboard, wearing a nice cream coloured sweater which you tuck into the front of your nicest pair of jeans. You pack and repack your camera equipment what feels like a hundred times, checking that you haven’t forgotten anything important, until you couldn’t possibly be any more prepared.

You arrive at the Barcelona training facility where your new boss greets you and introduces you to the rest of your colleagues in the media department, then takes you on a tour of the facility. You meet a lot of other people along the way, including the coach Jonatan Giráldez, but none of the players. Maybe it won’t be so bad after all.

“So preseason actually starts tomorrow,” the head of media tells you, as she leads down a corridor lined with physio rooms and offices. “Most of the girls will be in tomorrow morning - we’ll want to get some shots of them all arriving for social media - and we should have a full team by Friday, but a couple of the more senior players are in the gym today. Let me introduce you.”

She pushes open a set of double doors at the end of the hallway and you follow her into a large air-conditioned room full of gym equipment. In the corner, two women are chatting while a third lifts weights.

You’re led over and introduced to them.

“This is Irene, Marta and Alexia.”

Your heart stops as you hear Alexia’s name. You give your name and shake hands with Irene and Marta, but your gaze remains on Alexia as she puts down the weights, wipes her face with a towel, then turns to face you.

“Hi,” she says, offering out her hand, which you tentatively shake. “I’m Alexia.”

Your eyes drift up from your joined hands to her face, which glistens with sweat from her recent workout, and your breath catches in your throat. She looks almost exactly as you remember, though slightly older, any softness that may have lingered from her youth gone and replaced by chiseled, more defined features. Her eyes are warm as she smiles at you but there’s not a single glimmer of recognition in them.

And that’s when you realise - she has absolutely no idea who you are.

It stings. You’ve spent the last few days worrying about this exact moment, worrying that one night five years ago could ruin your first day at your dream job, without even considering that it would actually hurt more if she didn’t recognise you.

“You’re the new photographer?” Alexia asks, finally dropping your hand.

“That’s right,” you nod, trying not to let it get you down.

“You’ve got an easy job with this one,” Marta jokes, gesturing to Alexia. “Alexia loves the cameras. She’s had lots of practice since she became a superstar.”

“Shut up, you make it sound like I’m a diva.” Alexia turns back to you, then says, “It’s nice to meet you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.”

“You too,” you manage to agree, before you bid goodbye to all three players and make your way towards the door to resume the tour.

“You’ll get to know the players really well,” the head of media tells you, as you leave the gym. “Lots of big personalities but they’re all great. And despite what they said, Alexia is a complete professional. She’s a big name, of course, but there’s a reason she’s the captain.”

You try to remember the Alexia that you met in a beach club five years ago but the memories that were a bit hazy anyway are already being overwritten by the brief encounter you’ve just had. Maybe it’s for the best that Alexia doesn’t remember who you are, to save your own professionalism being called into question if it got out that you’d had a fling with her all those years ago. But you also can’t deny that every cell in your body feels as though it’s been charged with electricity since you saw her again.

———

Your second day is even more overwhelming than the first. As promised, the rest of the team arrive for their first day of pre-season and you get thrown right in at the deep end, capturing photos of the players arriving and greeting each other, then moving over to the pitches to get some action shots of the first training session of the new season.

One of the other photographers, a guy called Hugo who has been with the club for just over a year, guides you. He introduces you to many more of the players and points out a couple of the new signings so you can make sure you get plenty of photos of them on their first day.

“We don’t play favourites, obviously, but it’s always a good idea to get some good shots of Alexia,” Hugo advises you. “The fans love her, and the social media guys love us when we give them content that’s going to give them a lot of engagement.”

You take his advice on board as you seek out Alexia and direct your camera towards her, taking a few action shots of her in the middle of a tackling drill.

Once the players all head inside after training for a team meeting, you return to the media office and check out some of the pictures you’ve taken. You delete a few of the bad ones while saving the good ones to your hard drive, until you stop on a photo you took of Alexia.

It’s a photo taken between drills, one of Alexia standing with a ball tucked under her arm as she talks to Patri Guijarro, but both players are caught in the middle of a fit of laughter. It’s perfect in its candidness, an unfiltered moment between two friends and shows the Barcelona captain’s humanity in a way that you never get to see in any of the staged magazine photoshoots she does.

“Wow,” Hugo says, glancing over your shoulder at your computer screen. “Social media will love that.”

He beckons over the social media manager, who agrees and asks you to send the photo across, along with a few others.

When you see the photo on all the Barcelona social media channels later that day, you can’t help but feel proud that you’re already making your mark.

When Alexia reposts it on her personal Instagram, it means even more.

———

You’re just starting to find your feet when the real chaos starts.

“Photo day,” Hugo says, as if every day as a photographer isn’t exactly that, but you soon realise what he means. “Luckily for us it only happens on this scale once a year.”

Hugo talks you through the process. Between the two of you, today you’ll be capturing hundreds of posed pictures of every single one of the players in the new home and away kits. It’s almost like a military operation, two rooms set up with lights and green screens, a defined list of poses that each player needs to work through, multiple hair and makeup stations just down the hall.

You cast your eyes down the schedule for the day, split into ten minute slots with player names and which kit they’ll be wearing, and you’re not sure if you’re relieved or disappointed to see that both of Alexia’s slots are on Hugo’s list.

But then you’re thrown headfirst into the chaos, and by the time you’re thirty minutes in, you’re already starting to memorise the list of poses and feeling more comfortable.

It’s actually a great way to get to know the players individually. There’s time for a bit of smalltalk between poses or while you’re swapping out props, and you make the effort to remember names and get to know the girls a bit too. The better you know them, the better you’ll be able to capture them with a camera.

You’re slightly ahead of schedule by lunchtime and you’re just about to leave to go and grab some food from the campus cafeteria, when you hear a knock on the door and look up to see Alexia standing awkwardly in the doorway, dressed in the new home kit complete with socks and boots.

“They’re running a bit behind in the other room and said I should come here to make up some time,” she explains. “Is that okay?”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, gesturing for Alexia to come in and take her place in front of the green screen.

You stay behind your camera, all of a sudden feeling a bit weird about being alone in a room with her, until you look up and realise that Alexia is struggling with her captain’s armband, the red and yellow striped band caught awkwardly on the sleeve of her jersey.

“Here, let me help,” you say, stepping out from behind the camera and crossing over to Alexia.

Between the two of you, you manage to sort it out, straightening out the sleeve of the jersey and tucking it neatly so that the armband is on clear display around her bicep. You spot a glimpse of a tattoo on her inner arm and your fingers brush against the warm skin of her arm as you adjust the armband and step back.

“Perfect,” you say, as you return to your spot behind the camera. “Okay, first pose is square to the camera, arms behind your back.”

———

You get through the photos in record time with Alexia, who must have done this a million times before because she already seems to know the exact sequence of poses you expect from her. She also shows her professionalism by being the only player you’ve photographed so far today who doesn’t complain at the awkwardness of having to pretend to scream and celebrate into a camera lens.

Once the shoot is done, Alexia comes to stand at your shoulder as you scroll through some of the photos you’ve taken on the laptop wired up to the camera.

“I like that one,” she says, pointing at the screen when you hit a photo of her kissing the Barcelona badge on the front of her jersey.

“You should get copies of them all in the next couple of weeks,” you tell her.

“This might sound weird because you’re new, but have we done a shoot together before?” Alexia asks. “For a magazine, or something?”

Time seems to stand still. Your throat goes dry, the hairs on your arms stand to attention. Alexia must recognise you after all, even if she doesn’t remember where from. It’s now or never, if you’re going to remind her of what happened all those years ago in Ibiza, now is your chance. But if she doesn’t remember, maybe it’s best not to tell her. A clean slate without any awkwardness.

“No, I don’t think so,” you answer, your heart practically in your throat.

“I thought you looked familiar, but never mind,” she says, before she makes her way to leave. “Thanks again for squeezing me in. I’ll see you around.”

As she disappears around the corner and out of sight, you can’t help but wonder if you just made the wrong choice by not telling her.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #strictly unprofessional

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armpirate · 18 days ago

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Kalla | Choi San || Chapter 31

MASTERLIST Previous || Next

Pairings: CEO!San x fem!reader

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, strangers to lovers.

Warnings: dom!San, sub!reader, voyeourism, use of sex toys, bondage, dirty talk, BDSM, exhibitionism, rough sex.

Summary: She was surprised by how fast her life went from the perfect fairytale to the destructive mess it had turned into. Dealing with a cheater ex boyfriend, having to move out to a different place because the house she lived in belonged to that man she once dreamed of spending the rest of her life with, while continuously being underappreciated at work... It was as if life was telling her to stop dreaming big, to go back to her small town, Bibury, and help her parents run the small farm her family had owned for decades.

At least until she received a call from her friend.

A sudden vacancy as an assistant showed up on one of her friend's system, having her being encouraged to take that big step and apply for it. She had no hopes for it. Mainly because she didn't have any experience on the field, and she didn't comply with most of the requirements that were added on the offer -and which most of them sounded ridiculous and exaggerated for the position, making her wonder who was the freak who needed so many guidelines in order to hire someone to pick up the phone and schedule events.

Although that hotel she'd be working on was much more than anything she could've come up with.

Choi San wasn't someone easy to deal with. After his previous assistant presented his resignation letter on his desk, he felt forced to start the whole selection process again -after merely two months.

Sure that he was being way too strict, enough to find that anyone who applied for the position wasn't enough, he asked one of his friends to be in charge of the interviews and the selection of the most adequate candidate.

Little did he know Wooyoung would hire the imperfectly perfect candidate for him, sure that she'd help him in many ways other than just in dealing with the responsibilities of his position.

A new challenge will come their way as soon as she steps inside the hotel.

Y/n will have to learn how to mold onto him and deal with all his small habits and requirements, and San will find himself trying to open up and let out all those same things that turned him into the person he was.

The more she digs in Kalla and all of its secrets and exciting corners, the deeper she'll dive into San's heart and soul... Although, maybe, she won't be able to take it.

Kalla opens its doors to you, sharing the vast amount of filthy and erotic plans it offers, and that you can join with a partner... Or maybe just by yourself.

Hope you enjoy your stay.

Chapter duration: 21 minutes

Chapter warnings: smut, dirty talk, dom!San, use of collar, symbols of BDSM, marking, rough sex, protected sex

Her eyebrows frowned as he passed the street to her place, instantly dedicating a confused look at him while she waited for an answer without asking the question.

—I told you I had a surprise for you —he momentarily looked at her—. And it's not in your house.

—Can I get a hint of what it is?

—No.

Y/n thought he'd be easy to convince, she thought his denial would go along a playful tone that gave away that if she insisted a little, he'd say what the surprise was. But there was none of that in his tone.

—Can I try to get a hint of what it is? —her voice turned suggestive as she slipped her hand over his inner thigh.

San didn't move, he didn't even flinch, yet he was fighting all her inner needs to let her unzip his pants and do wonders with her mouth. And even then, he wasn't going to ruin the surprise by telling her what he had bought for her.

—Do you want to be kneeling facing the corner with your hands up high? —he warned her, instantly getting her to move her hand away— Patience is a virtue.

—Said the person who spanked me in his office —she mumbled.

—And if you keep on like this, the person who'll spank you in his car.

Yet his gaze didn't show any kind of threat, there wasn't a trace of it, instead he smirked when he saw her smiling, playfulness radiating through his pupils for a brief second before his eyes were back on the road.

—I can't believe you had me naked with you inside, with the door open —she scoffed, looking through the window.

—Yet every time I moved, I could feel how much you enjoyed it —he teased back.

—What would've happened if someone had knocked?

She didn't think about it when he was balls deep in her. She was too lost in his scent, the speed of his fingers on the keyboard and the way he tensed his muscles under her whenever she unconsciously clenched around him. But now she did think about it, aware of how she'd have had no escape if someone had tried to step inside.

—I'd have told you to kneel under the table and take my cock in your mouth —his eyes were briefly back on her, eyebrow raising with mockery—. A bit late to think about that though.

After a long way back home, they finally arrived at San's apartment, the low hum of city noise fading as the door clicked shut behind them. Y/n slipped off her shoes, her tired feet grateful for the plush carpet beneath her. San walked over to the kitchen area, turning back to glance at her with his usual calm, collected expression.

—Can I get something to drink? —she asked, her voice gentle as she walked towards the isle.

—You don't have to ask —San motioned towards the fridge, signaling for her to help herself.

She grinned, pushing her body away from the counter, her eyes scanning the pristine kitchen, everything perfectly in its place. As she opened the fridge, though, she was met with a sight that caught her off guard: almost nothing inside. A bottle of water, some leftover takeout containers, and a lone carton of milk. She chuckled softly to herself.

—So... —she teased, raising an eyebrow as she turned to him— I don't have to ask because there's nothing?

The fact that he wasn't even aware of how empty it was just took her to the realization that he didn't open it, at all. And if he did, he probably was too into his business to take a deep look at it.

San, who had been leaning casually against the counter, offered a small smirk, but there was a flicker of something else -an almost sheepish look.

—It's not like I'm here too much time —he admitted with a shrug—. And, in my defense, I'll say it's been a crazy week.

Y/n grabbed the bottle of water, pouring herself a glass as she mused aloud.

—You know, going grocery shopping can be fun. Some people find it... romantic —she casually mentioned, remembering their drunk conversation.

—Romantic? —San raised an eyebrow at that.

—Yeah —she nodded, her tone playful—. Yeah. Like, planning meals together, picking out ingredients, and walking around the store, hand in hand. It's kind of cute, don't you think? You'd be surprised how much it can feel like a couple's thing. You get to really know a person with how they act in a supermarket.

He knew she wasn't being serious when she said that, but still he felt tempted to give it a try. He considered her words for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if a plan was forming in his mind. Then, out of nowhere, he suggested:

—How about tomorrow we go to the supermarket together?

—Now? —Y/n blinked, caught off guard by his sudden proposition— You want to go shopping together? I thought you had other plans.

—Not now —the corners of his mouth twitched upward, while he shook his head with amusement—. Tomorrow, maybe—he gave a light shrug.

The image of San strolling through the aisles, pushing a cart and debating which fruits to buy, seemed absurd in her mind. She couldn't help but laugh.

—You, grocery shopping? I can't picture it.

—You will —he countered, his voice cool but tinged with a playful edge—. Tomorrow morning, actually.

Her laughter softened, a smile lingering on her lips. There was something endearing about the way he was trying to meet her halfway, despite how out of character it seemed. She'd never imagined San -the meticulous man he was- doing something so mundane as grocery shopping. But the thought that he was willing to try it, for her, made the moment feel unexpectedly intimate.

—Well then —she said, raising her glass to him with a grin—, I guess we have a grocery date tomorrow.

San's smirk widened just a fraction as he pushed off the counter and moved closer to her. Taking the glass from her hand, he gently placed it back on the counter, before he was able to trap her body in between his arms.

He was so close to feel her lips on his, to feel her warm breath on his cupid's arch, but she moved back before he could.

—No surprise, no kiss.

—No kiss, no surprise —he fought back.

—If I kiss you...

—If you kiss me like you mean it, I'll give it to you right away.

She didn't need to be encouraged with a surprise for her to do it, she meant every kiss she gave that man. It was impossible to fake how bad she wanted him, simply because she did want him, she craved him with every touch of their lips and every slick of tongue.

—Did I kiss you like I meant it?

Her question sounded husky, out of breath, while her fingers tried to hold onto his vest. Instead of answering, San intertwined their fingers together, guiding her to his room. There was a beige paper bag over the edge of his bed, and next to it a small black box.

She went for the bag first, surprised when she found an emerald silk dress on the inside, but losing her breath when she lifted her hands to see it completely, finding the buttons on the back.

—I know it'll fit your curves so well —he carefully took the dress from her hands, motioning her to get naked with one small movement from his head—. I just couldn't stop picturing you in this when I saw it.

Her breath was cut when she felt his fingerprints brushing her skin, moving from her wrists to her shoulders in such a slow pace that she was convinced he was torturing her, with the excuse that he was helping her with the thin straps..

—But do you know what I love the most? —he whispered in her ear when she turned around, her naked back facing him— You can't put this on yourself, and you can't take it off yourself either. Everyone who looks at you will know I helped you put it on, but they also will know I'll be the one taking it off tonight.

Y/n's lips escaped a sigh when the reverse of his index traced her spin all the way up, before he linked the two extremes of fabric that were hanging on her shoulders. He buttoned up the back slowly, enjoying every squirm of her body when his fingers subtly touched her skin.

That dress hugged her curves like a second skin, with the pencil silhouette falling right over her knee.

—What's in the box? —she finally turned to him— A personalized toy?

She was joking, but San's smirk let her know she wasn't as far fetched as she thought. Finally stepping back from her, he bent over to reach the black box and hand it to her.

Y/n looked up at him, curiosity glimmering in her eyes before she took his gift. She gently opened the box, revealing a stunning thin and polished silver eternity collar, its design sleek and sophisticated. The simple elegance of it made her breath catch for a moment.

—It's an eternity collar —San explained quietly—. Unlike the ones you saw in the clubs, this one is more difficult to put on and take off.

It was a statement, but not too bold -something she could wear every day without it standing out to anyone who didn't understand its significance. And its significance, she'd belong to him wherever she was, and that necklace would be a reminder of it.

—It's a symbol of commitment. I had it made for you —her eyes shined when looking back at him—. I know you aren't ready, and I didn't expect you to wear it yet. But I wanted to let you know that it'll be waiting for you, for when you're ready...

Before he could finish, Y/n cut him off, her voice soft but resolute.

—Put it on me.

San blinked, caught off guard by her words. For a brief moment, he just stared at her, as if he was processing what she'd just said. He hadn't expected her to be so sure, so immediate.

—What? —he asked, his voice a little quieter now, the seriousness of the moment not lost on him— Are you sure?

Y/n met his gaze, unwavering.

—Yes —she said simply, her fingers gently brushing the surface of the collar—. I want you to put it on me.

There was a long pause as they both locked eyes, the weight of the gesture sinking in. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, San stepped closer to her, taking the collar from the box. His hands were steady, but there was a tenderness in the way he lifted it, the cool metal glinting under the warm lights of his room..

—As you please —he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he moved behind her.

Y/n tilted her head slightly, exposing her neck as San gently placed the collar around it, fastening it with quiet precision. She could feel the warmth of his fingers brushing against her skin as he moved his fingers to adjust the collar with the small screwdriver that came with the box, making sure it sat just right. The touch was intimate, even in its simplicity, and for a moment, everything else seemed to fade away.

When he finished, San stood back, his gaze lingering on the collar now resting around her neck. There was something unreadable in his expression -pride, possessiveness or, maybe, something deeper. Y/n reached up, her fingers lightly tracing the cool metal, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

—It looks even better on you —San said, his voice softer now, as though he was speaking more to himself than to her—. Everything in you, from head to toe, screams that you're mine tonight.

Y/n looked up at him, her eyes warm.

—Just tonight?

—You have no idea how you're the one who has me under your control, and not the other way around.

—I love that —she murmured, the collar resting comfortably around her neck like a secret only the two of them shared.

The air between them felt different now, heavier but in a way that felt right. Neither of them said anything for a few moments, but words weren't needed. The gesture spoke louder than anything they could have said.

After leaving the restaurant, both Y/n and San felt a sense of ease between them that hadn't been there before. Dinner had been unexpectedly pleasant. Over dishes of delicious food, they had found themselves talking more freely, sharing little stories about their lives, likes, and random quirks. San, though usually reserved, seemed to soften with each passing moment, opening up about his experiences in London, and how he ended up where he was today. Y/n, in turn, had shared pieces of her life -her friends, her childhood, and her funny tales from work, earning more than just one disgusted look when hearing about her colleagues.

The conversation flowed naturally, laughter bubbling up between them as they got to know each other beyond the intensity of their usual dynamic. It was light, even fun at times, as San surprised her with subtle humor and sharp observations.

As they finished their meal, the comfortable silence that fell over them wasn't heavy or awkward -it was the kind of silence that came from two people who had spent the evening truly enjoying each other's company.

When they returned to San's apartment, the air had shifted slightly. The night had cooled, and the city outside his windows seemed far away, leaving just the two of them in the quiet space.

It was as if their connection outside of the bed had increased the way he wanted to surrender to her. And he made sure she knew, trapping her against the door at his entrance to kiss her passionately. And he only broke that kiss to start another one, holding her waist carefully as he stuck their bodies together, her arms immediately went up around his shoulders, making sure there wouldn't be a gap between them.

He squeezed her side one last time before he made her body turn facing the door. He first touched the place where her collar was locked, slowly moving down her spine to start unbuttoning her dress with such delicacy and intimacy she thought she'd faint.

—You should've seen the way everybody looked at you tonight —with every button off, his mouth left an open-mouthed kiss on the new exposed skin—. Everything in you screamed you were mine.

—I was aware —she answered, feeling San kneeling behind her—. And I really liked it.

She omitted a gasp when his tongue licked her entrance over her panties, before pulling from the last button and getting up to let the fabric fall in front of her. His hand rolled around her throat, forcing her face back on him to be able to kiss her, his tongue finding every corner and almost making her lose her balance. Y/n supported her weight on her hands against the door, although that didn't last long before he forced her hands back on him.

—I want your hands only on me —he whispered, before moving her hands up around his neck.

Feeling his soft hair on her fingers, as she made a mess of it, while his finger dug under her panties to meet her wetness gave her a new kind of rush she wasn't able to control.

A low giggle left her lips, at the same time her body moved further against his, rubbing her ass against his pelvis, his growing bulge was starting to press against his jeans with every move she made, and his mind was starting to get clouded with filthy thoughts.

Her cheeks were burning, her blood was pumping through her veins at a crazy speed when he broke the kiss to look at her while his fingertips kept brushing on her clit.

—The way I want you is so out of my control —he mumbled—. Shit, but if I don't love the way it feels...

His kiss was demanding, and even furious, barely giving her time to get used to the speed and intensity of it, after he made her turn around again. He lifted her easily, wrapping her legs around his waist.

San walked blindly to his room, making sure his lips would never leave her mouth until he left her on his bed. She looked up to him from that new position, waiting for a command, waiting for the instructions of what would come next. But instead, she saw him getting naked, with his heavy gaze never leaving her eyes, making sure she knew that he belonged to her as much as she belonged to him.

She squeezed the sheets under her, already feeling lost with her body responding involuntarily to his actions. Her back arched unconsciously, reacting to the way his tongue swirled around her hard button before his lips trapped it, offering herself to him, showing him how ready he was for anything he could give to her.

His eyes were closed as he sucked her in, moving from one breast to the other, while his hands held her by her waist to hold her and encourage her as she kept moving to feel closer. At some point, his teeth trapped one of her nipples. He kept teasing her, sucking, biting, licking, at the same time his fingers moved freely over her naked skin and messed around with her panties soaked in her arousal. She had been waiting too long for that moment, she needed him, and he only teased her, making her wonder how long she'd be able to go like that. But he wasn't testing her, he was enjoying every second he could have her body surrendering to him.

The environment in that small space was so thick, they both were sure they weren't able to breathe properly due to it. They both wanted each other, in a new way that crossed any meanings of intimate he had known until date. It was all visible on how sloppy their moves and kisses were, and how they didn't care about anything that wasn't the way the other tasted and felt.

It was so different from the way their sessions were, because he wasn't taking her to bed to dominate her and get her to let him have all the control. He was taking her to bed because he craved her, he wanted their connection to reach a new level.

They both released a relief gasp when he sank in her depths as soon as he wrapped himself. San moved his hips slowly, enjoying the feeling of her walls taking him in as if he belonged there. So wet, so warm, and so ready for him that if it weren't for the fact that he wanted to take her to the edge, he probably would've pounded into her like a wild animal that had been deprived from his pleasure for years.

His hands moved over her body, one on her right leg to keep her spread for him, while the other traced caring touches all over her body. And it was such a delightful sight to see her that way. Losing herself to him, giving up on every bit of power she had because she put herself in his hands was astonishing, but her knowing he would take care of her the best way no one ever has added a new perspective on sex he had never known.

He wasn't even fucking her the way they both needed, it wasn't the type of sex they both were used to, but it felt so good either way only because they were doing each other.

Y/n broke one of the several kisses to speak, voice shaky from pleasure.

—I want to mark you.

San was sure she felt him twitch when she said those words, feeling excited to know they both were on the same page.

Instead of answering with words, San moved a bit lower, hiding his face in the curve of her neck.

—Do it —he bit her earlobe—. I will wear all those marks with pride.

Y/n bit her lip, moving her hands up his wide back, before she tilted her head to bite and suck on one spot between his shoulders and his beck, earning one hard thrust from him that made their bodies clap.

Feeling encouraged, she only moved up, trying to leave all those marks like a road from his jaw to his collarbone. Every time he felt her teeth on him, he pulled back, almost taking his tip out, before he sank into her again.

—Do it again —he dared her.

—Hmm, I think it's enough with that...

While she parted her lips to speak, her voice got stuck in her throat as two of his fingers rubbed against her clit in circles, slowly driving her to her peak, only to be pushed back down as soon as she was able to touch it with the tip of her fingers.

—I could do this all night, Y/n —San threatened her.

—Why do you want those marks so bad all of a sudden?

—Because I want everyone to know I already have someone giving me all that I need without having to speak to them.

If he had said that since the very beginning, she'd have covered him in red marks from head to toe.

She did as she was told, imitating the same kisses on the other side of his neck, dragging her nails down his back when his thrusts went back to the same power he started with.

Their moans, the bed squeaks, the skin clapping, and the desperate gasps for air were only a small hint of how intense it all was. She felt like floating with every thrust, feeling her lower back hitting the mattress with each move, forced to hold onto his wrists for some stability as she slowly went insane.

San held her hand at some point, intertwining their hands together over her head, prolonging that limbo state that wouldn't allow their brains to function properly until it was over. And he kept her in that position, folded as he fucked into her, easily accessible for him to kiss her lips and close enough to get drunk of all of her expressions as pleasure ruled over her.

Able to recognize the way her neck tensed, and how her walls clenched around him, he kept her from reaching her high before she was even able to ask for it. He demanded her to hold it back for a little longer and wait for him, squeezing her flesh by how close he felt as soon as her hands moved towards his ass cheeks to feel his muscles tense every time he pounded.

—You're so good waiting for me —he groaned.

Her fingers moved up over his shoulder and back, reaching a soft spot on the back of his neck the moment she squeezed his nape.

—San, I can't wait much longer —her voice cracked.

—Cum now —he groaned, resting his forehead against her chin while her head was thrown back.

The sync of their sounds made them both feel eager to go back at it again, not even bothering to get some energy or air back.

They found themselves walking down the aisles of the local supermarket. Y/n pushed the cart while San walked beside her, scanning the shelves with his usual intensity, as if picking the right groceries required the same focus as running his business.

They moved through the store, filling the cart with essentials, but it wasn't long before Y/n noticed how serious San seemed about it all. He studied each item they picked up, occasionally asking her opinion, making sure they were choosing things they both liked. She found it oddly sweet, how he was putting so much thought into something as simple as grocery shopping.

When they reached the snack aisle, she couldn't help but let out a small laugh as San reached for a box of her favorite snacks -something she hadn't even mentioned to him.

—How did you know? —she said, raising an eyebrow.

—I pay attention —San shrugged casually, though there was a hint of a smile on his face—. You always have a bag of these on your desk.

They continued through the store, their conversation light and easy, filled with playful teasing and laughter. It was surprising, how natural it felt -walking through a supermarket together, picking out groceries like any other couple. And despite the simplicity of the situation, there was something intimate about it. Y/n felt herself growing more comfortable around him, more at ease with this new side of him.

—Do you want some ramen? —she suggested.

—I don't really eat processed food.

She was aware.

The inside of the cart consisted of meat, vegetables and spices. And the only snacks they got were the ones he picked for her.

—Oh...

—Why? Do you want?

—No —she shook her head—. I was just thinking that maybe we could cook some ramen, eat those snacks and watch a movie tonight, but...

She didn't have to say much more before his hand picked up two packs of the ramen she had pointed out, leaving them on the cart without saying a word, before he pulled from the other side of the cart to get her walking.

Although that smile didn't last long, before they heard a feminine voice calling his name again.

—Oh my god, San.

In front of them there was a woman, who probably was their age, caressing his upper arm fondly, with a kind smile while she looked at him with loving eyes.

Y/n didn't want to inaugurate that new side of their relationship with a jealous scene, but why was her heart pumping against her chest so fast? And why did her skin feel hotter with every rub of her thin thumb on the thick fabric of his gray coat?

Only after a few seconds, she had noticed how disconnected from the conversation she was.

She wasn't sure if she should interrupt that moment, or just wait. Although she didn't need to hawk or do something to catch their attention, because San made sure to involve her in the conversation.

That insecurity or fear suddenly washed away when he looked at her with those loving eyes, slightly closing over the edges when he smiled as he stretched his hand towards her. She took his hands confused, feeling pulled towards his body slowly, giving her the space to walk to him and stop whenever she thought it was too much. She went from feeling left out to feeling embarrassed when she remembered all the marks she had left on his neck.

—It's Y/n, the person I told you about —he introduced her, holding her close to his body.

They didn't talk a lot, but he for sure had managed to bring up Y/n onto the conversation. And, just one look at her particular necklace, while judging the purple marks on his neck, it didn't take Hyori long to know that the woman next to him behind the cart was the only one responsible for those. It was something that he'd only allow from someone he radiated devotion to even through texts.

—Nice to meet you —the woman bowed, with a wide smile making her features seem even cuter.

—Nice to meet you, too... hmm —Y/n hesitated, looking at her as she waited for her to introduce herself.

—Oh, sorry. I'm Hyori.

Why did that name sound so familiar to her?

—I have something to discuss with you, and I was planning on calling you for it —she continued, turning back to San—. Can we meet later?

Y/n's eyes flashed back to San at the speed of light, hoping he'd reject it and tell her he had something important to do later, but instead, he nodded.

He took her home that morning, he gave her a goodbye kiss, and told her he'd pick her up later in the evening so they'd be together.

Yes, the plan of spending the day together was over, because he was going to meet with someone else instead.

Taglist: @brown88

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