#assistant marketing officer
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carcarrot · 22 days ago
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having another one of my job-related crises
#where are the jobs for blokes that do fuck all. where are they!!!!!!!#i am quite literally looking for jobs where you do nothing. you do not understand how much i dont want to do anything#granted my current job has a certain amount of doing nothing in that i have the time to look for jobs where i do nothing#but i want to do even more nothing. do you understand#if i lived on my own i probably would consider some weird night shift job#but its probably better i have the routine i have living during the day like a normal person#despite the drawbacks of my cursed routine#where are those jobs i see people making tiktoks about where you do fuck all in the office and send like one email a day. id kill for that#my dream is to be paid for like. mostly sitting somewhere where i can work on my needlepoint#id even do mindless data entry. PLEASE pay me for mindless data entry i love repetitive tasks. if you let me listen to music im unstoppable#ive come across a couple data entry jobs but i think they always require a college degree#and its like oops sorry i never had the time or money for that! still dont! however i can promise you my autism is qualification enough#my dad talks about the market research jobs he used to have and how for like the entry level jobs there#there was clearly so much goof off time they were playing early computer games and shit#but there were like so much more data entry jobs that i guess are obsolete now bc of technology#and its like yes technology good but theyve destroyed an important job category: jobs where you do fuck all#whenever i have one of these crises i also check out gigs n jobs on craigslist and unfortunately everything there seems so sketchy#like every 'personal assistant' job sounds either super pervy or like im going to get serial killed#i should get paid a million dollars a year for doing nothing at all i think#anyway once again my only option is my successful director dreams. would be great if theyd actually happen#<- guy that doesnt spend enough time actually working on creative works in progress#well anyway. such is my mental state today thank you for your time
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marylemanski · 2 years ago
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hireanydomain · 23 days ago
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azadservice · 2 months ago
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jobsnotices · 4 months ago
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National Life Insurance Job Vacancy 2081 for Officer, BM, Province Head
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swaggardensoul · 9 months ago
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websprintdigital · 11 months ago
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carebeardean · 2 months ago
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Charles whose dad smashed his cassette tape with a hammer learns to navigate the backpack cause, like, he needs to be useful, yeah?
and this way Charles has everything Edwin needs, and if Edwin gets sick of him he’ll just.. he doesn’t know what he’ll do.
but then Edwin gets the record player.
he suggests, tentatively, that Charles might play some of his “queen” if he liked. after all, if they are to haunt potential realtors away from their new office, they may as well entertain themselves.
so they take turns, switching out; edwin likes opera. he shows Charles how to waltz, chiding Charles to stop looking at his feet til they’re gliding, whirling around like they’re in the movies. Edwin’s smile is small and pleased and lovely. (Charles attempt to get Edwin to headbang along to queen results in a sort of awkward rhythmic nodding. Charles loves him so much he could die again.)
And, like. Edwin doesn’t like clutter. he doesn’t bother with the random tidbits ghosts give them for solving cases.
until now, apparently.
now he comes back from trading at the goblin market with little useless things—a cursed rubix cube, records from bands Charles mentioned years ago.
Charles is so busy trying to subtly read his book on Edwardian courting rituals (disguised by Nikos discreet manga covers) that he doesn’t realize what Edwin’s set down in front of him. he stares at Edwin’s spiky handwriting, the tidy numbered list.
“I thought, perhaps, that we might—start a new tradition.”
Charles blinks, eyes stinging. “Mate, did you.. make me a mixtape?”
“Crystal assisted me, and while she was absolutely insuffer—“ Edwin staggers, catching him with a surprised little noise.
“I love you so much,” Charles says, muffled into his throat. “You’re my favorite person. I love you so much it hurts, sometimes.”
“Yes,” Edwin says softly, hands curling around his waist. He takes Charles weight like it’s nothing. “I believe I know the feeling.”
this is a longer fic on ao3 now!
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ghouljams · 14 days ago
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More thoughts about CEO!Price's horrible assistant that hates him.
Youre forced to admit that the man might actually be competent when you're forced to sit through two days of meetings. Taking minutes on your company issue laptop while the C suite goes through the brand refresh and the fiscal year. Team leaders keep showing up at pre-planned times to present on what their section of the company will be doing, and Mr. Price always has a good question or helpful remark to guide the conversation. It's actually astonishing to see the man do work that requires any amount of brain power considering you were under the impression he was using every brain cell to annoy you.
He doesn't even glance your way in the 36 hours of meetings, dinners, and happy hours that you helped the internal events team organize months ago. It's like the holidays came early. Except the gift is that you don't have to submit an HR complaint into the voice for a whole week. Not that you'd have any time to do that with how much you're running around.
The problem with being competent at your job, you suppose, is that you actually have to do your job.
You end up spacing out by the end of the last presentation, your fingers numbly tapping at your keyboard as your eyes lose focus. Your eyelids feel especially heavy this afternoon, and you can't stop the gentle dip of your head as you try to keep from nodding off. You were up until 3am last night prepping for the all hands meeting tomorrow morning. Not to mention the all-nighters you've been pulling just to make sure Mr. Price has talking points for today. (You should've passed this off to marketing but God they're just so swamped.)
You barely notice the heavy hand that settles too high on your thigh to be work place appropriate. Your body is so warm, your head burning from lack of sleep, your laptop screen wavers in your vission, and a neatly trimmed beard scratches your cheek as Mr. Price leans close.
"Why don't you go lay down in my office sweet'eart." He tells you, the low rhythmic cadence of his voice makes your eyes drop. His thumb sweeps a slow circle against the inside of your thigh, pushing at the hem of your skirt.
Your head nods for you. Mr. Price's free hand shuts your laptop, the motion slow and purposeful, plenty of time to object(and move your fingers). You should object, but your tongue feels stuck to the roof of your mouth. It's all you can do to raise your gaze off your closing screen to meet him. He squeezes your thigh and your eyes blink too heavily, your head starting to loll to the side.
"Go on, no help to anyone dead on your feet." He pushes, nodding his head towards the door.
"Sorry," you relent, standing to smile at the group of men who wouldn't know your name if it killed them. They barely seem to have noticed your presence. Mr. Price hums, his hand smoothing over your hip as you turn to go.
"Good girl," he purrs. You assume he must be holding himself back around an audience. The same way you assume you're imagining the squeeze to your ass that he gives you before you're out the door.
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michellesanches · 1 year ago
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How to Register a Trademark: A Step-by-Step Guide
Registering a trademark for your brand is crucial to protect your intellectual property and establish exclusive rights to use your mark in commerce. A trademark serves as a valuable asset, safeguarding your brand identity and preventing others from using similar marks that may cause confusion among consumers. This should not be confused with registering a business name. In some instances, your…
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ozzgin · 9 months ago
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Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader
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As much as you'd like to spend the rest of your life secluded away from the world, you need money. Conveniently enough, a new detective agency in town is hiring, and the salary is ridiculously good. The catch? Oh, you'll see once you sign the contract right...here. Congratulations! You've sealed a lifetime bond with their one and only employee, a demon from the depths of Hell!
Content: female reader, monster romance, dark humor, perverted goat demon yandere, based on ‘Yondemasuyo, Azazel-San’
[Part 2] [Monster masterlist]
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There’s still enough time to go back, you think. It’s loud and crowded and you’d rather be home. The temptation is beginning to creep its tendrils over your mind, so you quickly pull out your phone and check your bank account. The numbers remind you why you’re here in the first place: if you don’t get a job soon, you’ll run out of savings.
Come on, it can’t be that bad. In fact, it’s the best offer you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Minimal interaction with humans, short hours, and absurdly good pay. A new detective agency opened in your town and they’re looking for an assistant. A regular person would most likely be put off by such shady circumstances. There must be a catch, but you couldn’t care less either way. What are they going to do, kill you? Sell your organs on the black market? They’d spare you the time to plan your own demise.
You climb the stairs and knock on the door. A deep voice tells you to enter, and you sheepishly make your entrance. The office is rather small and somewhat cramped, with stacks of papers scattered over the floor. Behind the desk sits a man – maybe in his thirties? – with messy black hair, sunken eyes, and an irked expression. Is this the detective? He looks like an angry thug. Not that you’re one to judge, given your overall gloomy aura that deters passersby with ease.
“Yes?” he asks curtly, not even looking up from his book.
“I’m here for the job offer. The assistant role?”
“Ah, yeah. Completely forgot about that.” He rummages through his drawer and pulls out a sheet of paper, slapping it on the desk. “Here’s the details. Same as in the ad. Here’s where you sign. Do you have questions?”
“Hmm, I guess not.” You hum, indifferent, and scribble your name.
The man finally glances at you, faint intrigue on his face.
“This went unexpectedly smoothly. What if it was a scam?”
“Then what?” You stare him in the eye with a flaccid smile. “There’s nothing to take from me. If it is a scam indeed, you’ll be the one disappointed in the end.”
His eyes narrow in an eerie grin, and he stands up.
“Perfect match.”
“Excuse me?”
He walks towards a secondary room and waits for you to follow him. Once you’ve joined, he turns on the lights, and you immediately notice a strange seal painted on the floor: Geometric symbols resembling a pentagram, surrounded by words in a language you don’t understand. You’re carefully observing the strange sight, so entranced that you don’t sense the detective lifting your hand and casually piercing your finger with a small scalpel.
Before you can react to the sudden attack, he presses your hand onto the contract you’d signed earlier. You wince in pain and swiftly pull your hand away, glaring at the man.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you demand angrily.
“I thought I’d already introduce you to the main tool we use to solve our cases.”
The sigil on the ground begins to glow and the edges move in a circular motion. A black ooze erupts from the center, rapidly expanding outwards. You glue yourself to the wall for safety, unsure of what is happening.
A clawed hand emerges from the cursed muck, grabbing onto the edges for support. Within seconds, a creature crawls its way out. A humanoid figure with curled horns and long locks, its body ending with goat hooves instead of legs, stands up and stretches before your terrified self. You tighten your jaw in anticipation.
“You always summon me during my best naps, damn it!” the demon barks.
The detective approaches the monster, completely unconcerned, and slaps its horns nonchalantly, earning a groan from the demon.
“Skip the unnecessary whining. This is our new assistant and your owner as of now.” He explains, dangling the contract before the horned creature and pointing a finger in your direction.
“The fuck? You said you’d end the deal if I completed that mission. You lied to me, you-!” the beast finally notices your presence and abruptly stops. “Well then, what do we have here?”
A wide, perverted smile replaces his frown, sharp fangs glistening with malice.
“Aren’t you a miserable one! You reek of apathy”, the demon exclaims, clacking his hooves in your direction. “Boy oh boy, I could just eat you up! Tell me your name.”
You open your mouth, but no sound comes out. You wonder if this is some bizarre dream after all. The demon clamps your lips back shut.
“Tempting offer, but I don’t need head right now. Save the gesture for later, alright? Let’s try again: Name!”
Your brows furrow in disbelief at his crass insolence.
“I-it’s (Y/N).” you finally manage to blurt out.
He strokes your head lovingly, as if he’s praising some house pet.
“Good girl. You can call me Zzy.”
For a moment, you completely forgot about the detective being in the same room. He places the demon under a firm hold and shoves him away from you, then hands you a thick, leathered book.
“This is his grimoire. Read it once you’re home. First day is tomorrow unless you need more time.”
“Tomorrow is fine”, you answer in a daze, fumbling to find the exit and ignoring the horned monster waving at you enthusiastically.
You’re lying in bed, still a little shaken from the events you witnessed earlier today. A detective agency that uses a demon to solve matters, and you’ve just been coerced into selling your soul for a lifetime bond with him. You sigh in exhaustion. At least the pay is good, you tell yourself as you trace your fingers over the old text of the grimoire:
“Great President of Hell, ruling three legions of demons. Brings insanity or great sorrow to any person the conjurer wishes. Feeds on sadness and fear. Causes people to end their life.”
Hard to believe that depraved buffoon holds such power. Although it does explain, at least, why the detective was eager to use you as a replacement. Or why the demon showed such intense interest.
“Who’s a buffoon?”
The voice is so close that you feel its hot breath on your ear. You scream and jump back in panic, tumbling out of the bed and scrambling onto the floor. You rub your eyes just to make sure: the half-goat creature is lounging under your sheets, gazing at you with a bored expression.
“Christ! I thought you’re not allowed to leave the office?” you inquire, baffled.
“That’s why I snuck this in your pocket!” he says as he procures a small coin. “I can track down cursed items. Hehe~”
As if remembering a vital detail, he throws himself up and joins you on the ground:
“Oh, but don’t tell Mr. Detective about it, or he’ll feed me to the dogs. It’s our secret.” he pleads, hands put together in a praying gesture.
“What are you even doing here?”
“I figured it’d be useful if we got to know each other as soon as possible, seeing as we’ll be working together from now on.”
“And it couldn’t wait until tomorrow?”
“Well…I also got really horny thinking of you and decided to just visit instead. How about a quick fuck?”
“Absolutely not. Eat a raw potato or something.”
“Don’t be like that! At least let me touch your boobs. Help a partner out, eh?”
Perhaps being scammed was not the worst-case scenario. You slap the demon’s groping fingers away and return to your previous spot in bed. It will be a long night.
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wttcsms · 26 days ago
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come right on me (i mean camaraderie!)
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ᝰ.ᐟ starting a new job is scary, especially when it seems like you can’t do anything correctly. good thing that your manager is always so kind and reassuring and supportive. when a client meeting ends terribly and runs so late that the two of you have to check into a hotel to spend the night, your sweet manager knows a good way to cheer you up… ( fem!reader )
pairing tetsurou kuroo x reader word count 4.9k content contains praise kink, oh no!!! there's only one bed!!!, coworkers/power imbalance (he's your manager, you're the newest and youngest member on the team), slight manipulation from kuroo (he's aware of your crush on him and uses your admiration as leverage), occasionally refers to you as his kouhai, you call him kuroo-senpai, creampie, sex in an enclosed, semi-public space (the office's supply closet), first time blowjobs kinktober masterlist
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If you had known that your transfer would have resulted in you getting fucked boneless in the supply closet of the company you work for…
Well, you would have announced your job transfer a little bit sooner.
“Kuroo— Ah!” You let out a helpless yelp as you feel Kuroo’s teeth bite down on the soft part of your shoulder, sure to leave a mark. “K-Kuroo, slow down!”
“Kuroo? Really?” He snarls, lifting his head up to glare down at you. “Tsk, and here I thought you were a star employee. Is that any way to speak to your manager, or is it because you’re moving that you’re deciding to drop the formalities?” 
Your heart drops at the sound of Kuroo seemingly dissatisfied with you. Out of everyone in this office, he’s always been the one to root for you the hardest. You look up to him! Even when he’s upset, all you want to do is make him feel better. Just like how he made you feel better that time after that horrendous client meeting last month…
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
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You’re bowing your head in apology, but Kuroo merely laughs, shaking his head.
“Don’t apologize. These things happen.” Kuroo is smiling, and from the crinkle of his eye and the carefree tone he’s using, it’s genuine. Kuroo isn’t upset with you, and somehow, this only makes you feel worse.
“But I ruined the meeting.” You remind him. “I stuttered when speaking to the client, and then I totally didn’t know how to properly react whenever he—” 
This is when Kuroo’s friendly demeanor darkens. “There would be no proper reaction to what he said.” The client, an older man who’s been working for so long in corporate Japan that back in his day, women could only serve as secretaries and belittled assistants, had made a less-than-savory remark on you and the way your pencil skirt hugs your figure. It had been a test of self-restraint for Kuroo to remain civil and smiling and to not punch him from across the table, but you don’t know that. “Our company shouldn’t sign contracts with men like him, anyway. I’ll write up everything in the report, and you won’t get reprimanded at all, okay?” He’s back to his normal, cheery self, and you nod.
Kuroo always knows what to do. 
And in your case, Kuroo is always making you feel better for being inadequate. A fresh college graduate, it’s a wonder how you managed to snag a position on one of the marketing teams for Japan’s Volleyball Association. Now, in your head, it’s a wonder how you manage to keep the damn position. You just can’t seem to do anything right, and even your coworkers are no longer shy in shaking their heads and sighing every time you mess something up. 
The only person who doesn’t seem to mind the little mistakes you make or the minor trouble you cause is Tetsurou Kuroo, the official unofficial golden boy of the sports promotion division. He’s a bit older than you, but still one of the youngest members belonging to the JVA’s marketing and promotional division. Already, there’s whispers about how Kuroo is most likely going to move up the hierarchy and soon — the Chief of Public Relations position will be opening up due to an early retirement from the current chief, and everyone knows that Kuroo has connections with a majority of the monster generation; not to mention, he’s charming enough to get everyone to go along with what he says.
You admire your senior colleague greatly, and because of your admiration and the fact that he’s the most sympathetic towards you, causing him trouble always makes you feel ten times worse than when you normally mess up. Even if he tells you everything is alright, you’re still frowning, staring down at your shoes. 
“Ah, shit.” Kuroo curses, staring up at the darkening sky as rain starts to descend down on the two of you. “Looks like the storm is coming early.” 
“It’s more like we’re just running late.” You say miserably. Because of you, the client meeting dragged on for even longer than scheduled, and the two of you were already running on a tight enough schedule as is. The JVA needed to secure a contract with a sneaker company to do some joint collaboration billboards, and even with a major thunderstorm predicted for this evening, the company was convinced Kuroo would be able to wrap up the meeting (successfully) and get the both of you on the train home before the storm came.
Now, though, it’s later than when you two were supposed to catch the train, and with the way the weather is worsening at such a rapid speed, it seems like making it to the train station before the last one runs will be impossible. 
“Follow me.” Kuroo tells you, trying to be heard over the wind. You nod, but you don’t expect him to grab your hand. With the wind whipping in your face and the chill of rain soaking through your work clothes, Kuroo’s hand is surprisingly warm. You allow yourself to be practically dragged behind him as he jogs to the nearest inn. Even in a soaked suit, running against the storm’s wind, Kuroo still manages to hold his own just fine. You’re glad his back is turned to you; at least this way, you can admire his athleticism in private.
Kuroo leads the two of you into a nearby hotel. The place looks fancy; way out of your budget. You feel bad as you practically stand there awkwardly, wetting the nice, expensive looking marble floors of the hotel while Kuroo talks to the woman up front. You notice that she’s biting her lip, eyeing the way the fabric of Kuroo’s suit clings to his body because of the rainwater. It only serves to emphasize the muscles he continues to maintain despite no longer playing the sport he’s paid to promote. Seeing the way she’s admiring him gives you a weird feeling inside, so you turn away, avoiding looking at them. 
“Bad news.” Kuroo runs a hand through the wet strands of his hair. “Turns out they’re fully booked. There’s only one room left, but it’s a couple’s suite.”
“Oh.” It makes sense that the two of you would have to spend the night in the city. The trains have probably stopped running now, and with the storm, it’s only reasonable to just wait it out ‘til the morning. “Well… A couple’s suite should be big enough, right?” 
“Space wise, yes.” Kuroo clears his throat. “But it’s for couples. There’s only going to be one bed.” 
Oh. 
You feel heat rising to your cheeks as you let this information sink in. A fancy hotel. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite. A fancy hotel with a fancy couple’s suite that only has one bed. And you’re with Kuroo, your very kind, understanding coworker. Your senior colleague. Your manager. Your totally hot manager. 
“What should we do?” You peer up at him, looking at him for the solution. You don’t know it, but he loves the face you make when you’re asking him for help. Your eyes go all wide and seek him out, eagerly awaiting for him to guide you.
“You can have the room. This isn’t the only hotel in existence, so I’ll probably head out and try to find a room somewhere else.” 
“No!” You’re shocked he would even want to go back out in this storm. Your exclamation is literally punctuated with the crack of thunder booming from the sky. “You can’t go back out there.” And because you’re aware of how rude your outburst was, you soften your voice. “Kuroo-senpai, I don’t think it would be reasonable for you to put yourself in harm’s way. We’re both adults, right? I… I don’t mind— We can just figure out the sleeping arrangements when we get into the room?” 
Kuroo smiles. 
“My kouhai has a point. You’re always so sharp, [Name].” 
You don’t know why, but despite the chill of your wet clothes and the air conditioning of the hotel lobby, you feel a warmth settling in your tummy and rising all the way to your chest as you let Kuroo’s praise blanket you. 
For a couple’s suite, there really isn’t much space to work with. The bed takes up most of the room, a grand king-sized mattress, plenty of space for two people to sleep on (and with each other). There’s a tiny loveseat in the corner that might just have been there for decoration or the opportunity to try out a different position, you’re not quite sure. The bathroom is connected, and the place has rose petals all over the floor and floral scented candles lit up. 
Kuroo lets out a whistle. “They weren’t kidding when they said couple’s suite.” 
You can only nod in agreement. 
“Do you wanna shower first?” The minute Kuroo suggests this, you’re instantly aware of just how wet your clothes are. Your white blouse is clinging to your skin, and when you look down slowly, you’re horrified to realize just how transparent the material got when drenched. Before you can get too embarrassed over the situation, Kuroo puts you (or tries to, anyway) at ease, just like he always does. “I’m glad no one else was in the lobby when we came, because I’m sure I look a mess.”
A hot mess, maybe. And hot in the sense that Kuroo looks too good right now. He looks like he just came straight out of a designer cologne ad or something. 
“Y-you can shower first.” You manage to squeak out. “It’s only fair. You’re the one who’s been doing most of the work all day.” 
While Kuroo’s in the bathroom, you’re practically spiraling. How are the two of you going to explain the charge of a couple’s suite on the company credit card? It wouldn’t have been so weird if you had been with one of your female managers or vice versa, but you and Kuroo are the closest in age to each other. The meeting dragged out for far longer than originally planned, and you’re worried about how the two of you will be perceived. If anything, Kuroo has the most to lose. Any enemies of his could easily use this as a way to stop him from getting his well deserved promotion. Oh God, you definitely ruined his shot at promotion. You’re terrible. You’re—
“Seems like someone’s thinking a little too hard.” Kuroo’s teasing tone pulls you from your rapid fire overthinking. 
You wish you hadn’t looked up. Standing in front of you is a shirtless Kuroo, his abs tight and glistening with droplets of water left over from his shower. The white towel is wrapped around his waist, but the view he’s providing is already enough to make you acutely aware of the fact that Kuroo is a man. His normally uncontrollable hair is weighed down with water, damp strands hanging in his face. And he has the nerve to just stand in front of you so casually, as if he isn’t practically naked! 
Maybe you’re the weird one. Great. So you’re practically eye-fucking your manager after despairing over how you basically might be the reason why he’s going to miss out on a great job opportunity. Right after you performed horribly during a client meeting, and then made him save you by finding you shelter in a very nice hotel. 
“I’m the worst.” You groan, frowning as you look up at him. 
“Hey, don’t say that.” He frowns right back at you. “That’s not true at all.” 
“You’re just saying that because you’re nice.” 
He lets out a short, sharp laugh. “A lot of people wouldn’t call me nice. It’s sweet that you would, though.” 
“How can that be true? Kuroo-senpai is the nicest person to me at work!” 
“Am I really?” You don’t notice how dangerous the glint in his eyes are, but you do have enough intuition to sense a shift in his demeanor. “Do you like that your senpai is so nice to you?” 
You don’t know what you do to him. It’s why you don’t realize how you’re essentially unchaining the beast locked up inside of him as you reply, “I like everything about Kuroo-senpai.” 
“I’m glad to hear that, because I like everything about my little kouhai, too.” 
Your eyes widen at this confession. The butterflies in your tummy are doing cartwheels right now. You can’t believe what you’re hearing, what you’re seeing. Are you hallucinating right now? That’s the only reasonable conclusion, but as Kuroo leans forward, you find yourself leaning a bit further back, just on instinct. He’s so much larger than you, more imposing. You feel like you have to shrink when he starts to close the distance between the two of you. He places his hands on the mattress you’re sitting on, effectively caging you in between his arms as he leans down even closer to you. So close that a drop of water from his hair lands right on your thigh. 
“Do you like me enough to let me kiss you?” 
Apparently, you like him enough to let him do much more than just kiss you. The kisses start off gentle enough. His lips are a bit chapped, but you like the feel of them against your much softer ones. He swallows up your little desperate whimpers, and he moves at a pace you can adapt to. When he notices you getting more confident in your movements, he gets rougher, more aggressive. It’s not just whimpers that he’s inhaling, now, but moans. Even in the heat of the moment, though, Kuroo still has enough restraint, enough decency, left in him to continue to ask for your permission. 
“Do you like me enough to let me do this?” He asks you, fingers prodding at the buttons of your work attire. You nod weakly, dizzy with pleasure from just a few kisses. He takes a sharp inhale of breath when your bra is revealed to him, and then he’s helping you slip out of your skirt, and he has to take a few seconds to admire the matching lace set you’re wearing. “I didn’t know my little kouhai was hiding this underneath her work clothes.” He mutters, and you can’t help but thrive off of the attention he’s giving you. 
He leans down ‘til his mouth is so close to your ear, you can practically feel the heat of his breath as he whispers, “Does my precious kouhai like me enough to let me play with her cute pussy?” 
You think you’re going to faint. You can barely breathe as you nod your permission, but he merely tsks. “Use your words, sweetheart. Otherwise, I won’t know.” 
He’s toying with you now. There’s a purpose to him asking his questions the way he does; he wants to see how far your admiration, your devotion, to him runs. A workplace crush might let him get away with a few kisses, but what about pounding into your sweet cunt? Do you like him enough to let him do that? 
Apparently, you do. Because you’re getting over your shyness. Because you’re whispering, “Yes. I l-like you enough to let you play with my pussy.” 
“Atta girl.” 
He’s on you within milliseconds. The pretty panties you’re wearing are now on the floor of this hotel room. He’s quick enough to figure out how to unclasp your bra, and that’s thrown to the ground as well. Laying completely bare and exposed, your work senpai wastes no time in having his hands explore your body, feeling out all the curvatures and angles that make you you. 
He takes a finger to pet at your cunt, humming approval when he already feels traces of slick gathering on the pad of his ring finger. “Did you get wet just from a couple lil’ kisses?” 
You don’t want to answer him, turning your head to the side in embarrassment because yes, you did, but his grin only widens. He presses a kiss to your cheek, finding you downright cute. “Don’t be shy. You did nothing wrong.” 
You did nothing wrong. 
He’s always telling you this, and the kind words never fail to make you feel all warm inside. That’s one of your favorite phrases to hear, but somehow, it hits differently whenever he’s pairing that heartwarming phrase with his finger in your cunt. 
“Ah, fuck, you’re so tight, baby.” He grunts out, moving his ring finger in and out, in and out. “You know what I think you need? I think you need your senpai’s help in loosening you up. It’ll be good for you, wouldn’t you agree?”
You nod your head enthusiastically, and because you think he might like to hear you say it, you admit what he already knows. “Kuroo-senpai is right. You always know what I need.” 
“Good girl.” The praise has you tightening around his finger, and your reaction doesn’t go unnoticed. He smirks, pleased with how sweet and pliant you are for him. A few bits of praise thrown your way, and you become a slut for him.
It’s a good thing your senpai cares about you so much. He cares about you so much that he’s adding his middle finger to the mix, curling the two fingers against your walls, relishing in your little mewls of pleasure. He’ll have to stretch you out, get you all nice and prepped for his cock. He cares about you, which is why he’s going to let you cum. 
“Feelin’ good?” He asks, knowing that from your moans of pleasure, you definitely are. His fingers work wonders within you, and Kuroo can’t help but admire how cute you are, his little kouhai. What would you do without him, hm? He loves the way your knees jerk and how you whimper every time his fingers curl right up against that sweet spot inside of you, the one your tiny fingers can’t seem to reach no matter how hard you try. Your cute little cunt is already so wet, so ready for his cock, that neither of you can seem to ignore the squelching sounds it’s making as he continues to work his fingers in and out of you. When he presses his thumb to your clit, rubbing tiny figure-eights on the bud, you cry out his name, tacking on that familiar honorific he loves to hear falling from your sweet lips, as you cum all over his fingers. You cum so much that your essence is dripping onto his palm, trailing down to his wrist, and he thinks that this is exactly where you should be, where you always should be. 
“You’re so good for me. Look at how much my good girl came.” He coos, and you should be embarrassed about the mess you made, but when he sings out his praise for you like that, you can’t help but feel a tiny bit proud. 
“Can my good girl make me even prouder? Can you take my cock right now, [Name]?” 
Even if you couldn’t, you still wouldn’t have denied him. It’s a lucky thing, then, that you’re so desperate for him. You spread your legs even wider, inviting him, and who is Kuroo to leave such a precious girl waiting and wanting? It’d be cruel to. 
Which is why he doesn’t make you wait. 
Instead, he plunges his bare cock right into your pussy, groaning with satisfaction as he feels you clamp down on him. Of course you’d be clinging to him; you’re always clinging onto him, always following after him. Such a sweet girl, his lovely, adorable junior colleague. The kouhai who likes him so much, you’d allow him to fuck you nice and hard, to really make use of this couple’s suite and its obnoxious sized bed. 
He quickens his pace almost instantly, giving you no time to adapt to his girth and length. He grins when he sees your little fucked out expression, the way your tongue peeks out from between your pretty, pink lips and the way your cheeks are flushed, your hair a mess. The soft, breathy moans that escape from your mouth. You’re going dumb on his cock, and that’s perfectly fine by him. Let him do all the thinking, anyway. 
Kuroo places a hand on your lower belly, trying to gauge just how deep he’s thrusting into you, and when he finds out, he applies more pressure, pressing down on your soft skin, forcing you to take every inch he has to offer. He’s wringing out soft “ah ah ah!”s from you, and your legs wrap around him almost instinctively as you warn him that you’re about to cum once again. 
“So soon?” He grunts out, grinning meanly. “Normally, senpais don’t expect such slutty behavior from their coworkers, but since it’s me you’re going stupid for, I’ll let it pass.” Your legs are closing in on his body, your whole body jerking a bit as you start to lose control. “Go ahead and make me proud. Cum all over my cock like a good kouhai.” 
The minute the request leaves his mouth, you do. You cum all over his length, as he instructed, and he lets out a short laugh at how devoted you are to him.
“Good girl, my best girl.” He grunts out, fucking your cunt at a leisurely pace now before stilling, letting his own cum flood inside your perfect pussy. “My perfect little kouhai. You did so good for me.” 
And with your cunt full of your senpai’s cum, his cock still plugging you up and keeping everything tucked safely inside, he gives you a rather chaste forehead kiss that has you swooning.
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Honestly, you don’t expect much to change between the two of you. It’s not like you think Kuroo’s just going to get down on one knee and let you take his last name or anything. You’re still trying to convince yourself that that night wasn’t some hyper-realistic dream, and the only proof that it was real was the remainder of his cum still settled inside your pussy when you woke up the morning after. 
Kuroo is still a good work senpai, always coming to your defense and fixing your mistakes. 
But you can’t help but wonder if he thinks that night he fucked you is just another work mistake of yours that he has to fix. Because of this, you’ve gone out of your way to avoid him as much as possible. So when the director of your team calls you to his office to let you know that the transfer request you put in months ago, way before that night at the hotel, finally got approved, all you can do is bow your head in thanks and return to your cubicle in a daze.
You don’t know what to do, and the person you would normally come to for guidance is the one person you’re trying to minimize interaction with.
However, word of your transfer spreads fast. After all, it’s a cause for celebration when the weakest link of the team is finally moving far, far away. Your coworkers are all being much kinder to you, and in the middle of them congratulating you on your move, you look across the room and lock eyes with Kuroo. His facial expression betrays nothing, but he quickly mouths supply closet before sneaking out of the office.
Five minutes later, you manage to follow him, gently opening the door to the closet, only to be dragged in immediately. The click of the door locking is loud, heard even above your rapidly rising heart beat, and that’s how you find yourself being ravished by Kuroo, during work hours, at your workplace.
When he chastises you for addressing him so casually, you immediately feel terrible. 
“Kuroo-senpai,” you mutter out, avoiding staring at him entirely. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah?” He growls out, keeping you pressed firmly against the wall. “What’re you so sorry for? For avoiding me, or for withholding the fact that you’re going to move all the way to Kyoto?” 
You shake your head, tiny droplets of tears gathering up in your eyes. When you look at him like that, like a little puppy who just got kicked, it only makes him want to ruin you some more, if only so he can have the honor of being the one to piece you right back together again. 
“Senpai, I-I didn’t know what to do.” You wail out. “I was scared that that night at the hotel didn’t matter to you, and I was embarrassed of how I acted then, and I applied to transfer to the Kyoto office ages ago, and when they finally approved it, I didn’t know if it would be smart to pull back my request. I’m sorry, Kuroo-senpai. Please don’t be mad at me.” 
He leans down, pressing his forehead against your own. “Not mad, baby. I was just a bit upset, that’s all.” He rests a hand against your hip, toying with the waistband of your skirt. “You shouldn’t have been embarrassed, though.”
“R-really?”
He nods. “Yeah. I fuckin’ love my little kouhai’s reactions. You shouldn’t be embarrassed around me.” He looks you in the eyes, tugging down your skirt and enjoying the hitch in your breath. “But it doesn’t change the fact that I was hurt.”
“I’m sorry!” You squeak out again, and he sighs. 
“If you’re really sorry, you’ll show me.” 
Apparently, the proper way to show him you’re sorry is to get down on your knees, ignoring the cold tile of the closet, and to unbuckle his belt, pull down the zipper of his slacks, and tug at his briefs in order to free his cock. He’s already hard, the tip of his cock an angry red with pearly white droplets of precum already gathering at the head. You shouldn’t be nervous; you had the full length of his dick inside of your pussy, but somehow, the task of taking him down your throat seems rather daunting. 
“C’mon, [Name]. Is my little kouhai getting shy again?” Kuroo teases, gently nudging his cock against your parted lips. Your tongue reflexively comes out, and before you realize it, your giving tiny kitten licks, getting your first taste of salty precum. You must make a face, because he laughs, before carding his fingers through the locks of your hair and suddenly, very suddenly, pushes you forward. 
He isn’t rough, but the presence and pressure of his hand is firm. He doesn’t push you down any further, but the first few inches of his cock is now resting against your tongue, and he’s savoring the warmth of your mouth, groaning as he feels the vibrations of you mumbling something in surprise. 
“Mm, this is a good starting point for an apology, don’t you think?” He muses, knowing that in your current position, you can’t really reply back. “Such a good kouhai for me. What am I gonna do when you move to Kyoto?”
His voice gets a bit huskier as he forces you to take more of his length into your mouth. When he starts thrusting gently, slowly getting you used to the feeling of him fucking your mouth, he lets out a groan. “So good, baby, so good. Do you normally let your senpais fuck your mouth like this?”
You mumble something, finding enough room to shake your head. 
“No?” He says, picking up his face. Every time he thrusts back in, he hits the back of your throat a bit harder, forces more of his length in. “You’re so good at taking my dick right now, though. Don’t tell me that this is your first time?” He looks down at you, eyes lighting up and a smile brightening his expression. “This is your first time sucking off a cock? Of letting someone fuck you like this?” He laughs, the sound full of genuine joy. 
“You’re the fucking best.” He tells you, before tightening his grip in your hair and pushing you down onto his cock. This is the only warning he gives you before you feel spurts of hot cum flooding into your mouth, and your eyes widen in surprise at the sheer amount that’s being poured into you. He lets out a little groan, tilting his own head back in pleasure as he keeps your head pushed down. The stimulation from you gagging around his girth only prolongs his climax, and you still can’t find relief when he pulls out of your mouth because he’s instantly demanding you open up and show him what a mess he made inside of you. 
You whimper, giving into your senpai’s request. You open up wide, sticking out your tongue to reveal the thick globs of white cum coating the appendage. Fuck, just the sight of you all submissive, on your knees, teary eyed and ready to please, mouth full of his cum… It’s enough to get him hard again. 
“You’re the best kouhai in the world.” He hums, patting your head, and you swallow up his praise just like you do his cum. 
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marylemanski · 2 years ago
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punkshort · 1 month ago
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Swept Away | Epilogue: Smooth Sailing
Pairing: sugardaddy!Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: Your new job at The Parador allows for some exciting perks.
Chapter Warnings: language, angry!joel, oral (m!receiving), smut (18+ MDNI), office sex, unprotected piv sex (reader has implant now as previously mentioned, we're safe), spanking, praise kink, mentions of substance abuse (not Joel or reader)
WC: 6.1K
Series Masterlist
Ten Months Later
It was still surreal sometimes to walk into an office with your name and Creative Lead printed on a nameplate next to your door, but after a handful of months, you were beginning to feel like less of an imposter.
Admittedly, it wasn't the type of job you had been applying for. You tried to use your experience as a production assistant to get your foot in the door with a talent agency, but you weren't having any luck. When Joel offered you the job in his marketing department, you didn't think you were qualified for it, but after discussing the duties with Caroline Harris, the creative director, you discovered your background would be well suited for the job. He must have known you would have instantly taken a liking to her because after a few more days of soul searching, you accepted the offer.
It felt strange in the beginning, and sometimes you still felt paranoid other employees were looking at you like you didn't deserve your success, but you felt confident all the hard work you did in the past several months spoke for itself.
And as it turned out, you were actually really fucking good at your job.
You left your office door cracked and set your things down on top of the chest of drawers behind your desk. Smoothing down your simple, grey dress that fell just above the knee, you sat down with a sigh in your leather chair and booted up your computer. While you waited for it to turn on, you sipped your coffee and glanced at your phone.
Zoe: Remember to call me later, I have news! I'm dating someone new!
You grinned and tapped out a quick response, promising to call before it got too late on the East Coast. Zoe never found out the truth about you and Joel, but you figured by now it didn't matter much. As far as she knew, you were still planning the "wedding", but it was just delayed until the hotel was built in Fiji, meaning you had a decent chunk of time to come up with another cover.
You saw a flash on your computer screen, indicating the monitor was up and running, so you placed your phone down to type in your password, then gasped excitedly when you were reminded of a Zoom call you had scheduled with Ellie.
Even though hiring Ellie wasn't technically your idea, Joel told Caroline it was because as he had told you at the time, he wouldn't have given her a second thought had you not been so taken with her work. So Caroline put you in charge of overseeing her progress, as well as a few other things for the new hotel.
It had been almost a month since you last spoke to Ellie and you were thrilled to get an update. The little video popped up, briefly displaying her name before she turned her camera on. You grinned from ear to ear when you finally saw her, specks of paint adorning her face and hair.
"How are you still up? Isn't it, like, three in the morning?" you asked.
"Yeah, but you know I do all my best work at night," Ellie replied before flipping the camera around so you could see her studio. There were a few drop cloths down, splashed with all sorts of colors of paint, and about six easels, all of which held paintings in different stages.
"Don't look at those yet, they aren't done," she said, and you laughed.
"You're the one in control of the camera, remember?"
"Yeah, yeah," she mumbled. You could hear her converse sneakers scuffing along the canvas drop cloth while she took you across the room. She flicked on a light and you gasped at the shock of color.
"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed.
"Man, I was feeling so inspired last week, I just couldn't stop. We had a little tropical storm blow through and it just created all these beautiful scenes. Like, beauty amongst the wreckage, you know?" Ellie was saying as she slowly walked around the room, panning the camera to each painting so you could get a good look.
"Oh, wow. Ellie... these are stunning. You've made such incredible progress, I'm so impressed!"
She finished her lap around the room and there was a pause in the video before her face returned to the screen.
"Yeah, thanks. It's going really well. You know how nervous I was in the beginning, I didn't think I would be able to make the amount of paintings you were looking for, but at this rate I think I'll have them done ahead of schedule."
"Well, I always knew you could do it. You're so talented and you see things in such a different way than everyone else. I swear, your work is going to make the hotel really stand out," you gushed before taking a long sip of coffee.
"You gotta thank Joel again for me," Ellie said, flicking off the light and heading back into the main part of her studio. "The amount of money he's paying me is keeping my bills paid so I can focus entirely on this."
"I will. I'm sure I'll see him later this afternoon. He'll be so happy to hear about all your progress."
"I'll take a few pictures and text them to you before I go to bed. That way, he can see for himself," she promised.
"That sounds perfect. Is there anything else you need? How's Dina?"
You spent the rest of your thirty minutes catching up with her about her girlfriend, laughing as she told you how Dina finally wore her down and they adopted a cat. Just as she was telling you how the cat stepped in some paint and walked across one of her paintings, she yawned.
"Go get some sleep. We'll touch base again next month but in the meantime, if anything comes up, you know how to reach me."
She gave you a little wave before ending the call and you sat back in your chair, your office filled with silence once again.
The rest of your morning was spent reviewing potential candidates for a pianist position in the hotel lobby. On one screen you had a video of a candidate playing and on the other, their resume and list of references. All of them were natives from Fiji, just like Joel had promised Glenn.
By noon, you had whittled down the candidates to your top five. You were making a little pile with your notes written on bright pink post-it's when you heard a gentle knock on your door.
"Come in," you answered distractedly.
"Hey... busy?" Liam said. You looked up and smiled before shaking your head and offering him a seat.
"Just getting some resumes ready for the pianist job. I have to set up some interviews after lunch. What's up?"
Liam sighed dramatically and collapsed into a chair.
"Your boyfriend is on a tear today, I needed a break," he said, curling his fingers into a loose fist so he could examine his cuticles.
"Why? What's going on?" you asked, setting down your pen, curiosity piqued.
"Well... first, Jack kicked his ass during his boxing lesson, which he always fucking hates," Liam said with a roll of his eyes. "Then he found out there was a delay in shipping the marble flooring, but I told him that shit's coming from Italy and it's custom!"
"He really hates when there's any delays in construction," you said, wrinkling your nose. You had seen your fair share of his outbursts over the past few months as the hotel in Fiji slowly became a reality. Joel always said, Time is money, baby. The longer this takes, the less money I make.
"Then Tommy called to tell him some wood or... something... got damaged in a storm they had down there recently, so now he's waiting on another shipment from the states."
You buried your face in your hands at that point, knowing exactly the type of mood Joel was in just one floor above you. On one hand, you were always thrilled whenever Joel and Tommy spoke after they finally hashed things out and made amends six months ago. But on the other, you would have much preferred Tommy call with an update about his wife, Maria, or TJ, their son.
"And about ten minutes ago, Chrissy spilled his coffee," Liam finished, dropping his hand to his lap and crossing his legs. "Only saving grace was she spilled it on the floor and not on him."
You cringed when you imagined how stressed out poor Chrissy must have been in that moment. She was a trooper, you had to hand it to her. She had been Joel's secretary for almost three years and every time you saw her she looked more meek and frightened than the last time.
"So, what you're saying is I should surprise him and take him out to lunch."
Liam's face broke out with a huge grin and he lightly clapped his hands.
"Would you mind? I think it would really help. He's always so much easier to handle after he sees you." He was really laying it on thick now and you knew it.
"I already agreed, you can drop it," you laughed, locking your computer and grabbing your purse.
"It's not an act," Liam said, following you out the door towards the elevator. The floor was quiet, most employees likely out to eat already. "I mean, yeah, maybe sometimes I try to flatter you into helping us out, but I'm serious. It's like you're chamomile tea on legs."
You arched an eyebrow at him when the elevator doors slid open. "Chamomile tea?"
"Is a tranquilizer dart better? Or lion tamer?"
You pursed your lips, thinking it over when you pressed the button to his floor. "Yeah. I like lion tamer."
Liam laughed and pulled out his phone to check his texts.
"This is perfect timing. He's about to wrap up a meeting and he doesn't have another one until two." Liam slid his phone back into his pocket and gave you a pleading look. "Please feel free to take your time."
"Oh, come on! He can't be that bad," you said with a hand on your hip. The doors opened up and let you out onto the executive floor, on the opposite side of the building from Joel's office, which is why it was so impressive you could hear him shouting from where you stood.
"Is the door open?" you asked quietly.
"Nope," Liam replied, giving you a look that said I told you so.
You swallowed nervously then lifted your chin with confidence as you made your way past the conference room towards his office. When Chrissy spotted you, she practically jumped out of her chair.
"Oh, my god, thank you," she whispered, her curly brown hair bouncing across her forehead with every step she took. She clasped her hands together and held them tightly against her chest.
"Don't thank me yet, I haven't done anything," you replied, but gave her a reassuring smile anyway. "Why don't you guys go to lunch? I'll take it from here."
The speed in which they tore out of the office was Olympic level.
You perched on the edge of Chrissy's desk as you waited for Joel's meeting to be over. Through the door, you could hear some voices through his phone, as well, one of which you recognized as the project manager for the hotel in Fiji. You looked down at your hands, ignoring the raised voices in the next room, and stared down at the huge diamond ring on your right hand. Splaying your fingers wide, you admired the way the light caught the little facets of the diamond, smiling a little when you saw rainbow flecks dot the walls of the mostly empty floor.
Ages ago, Joel had asked you to keep the ring he got you to use in Fiji. You nearly had a heart attack until he realized how it looked and he nervously clarified he wasn't asking you to marry him, just that he felt the ring was always yours and he couldn't bring himself to return it, so he bought it.
You smiled to yourself when you thought back on that day. It was just after he finally said I love you for the first time. It was a little ridiculous to think he would be asking you to marry him when it took him months to say those three words, but your heart still skipped a beat in that half a second of confusion.
After your pulse slowed, you accepted it with an awkward laugh, putting it on your right hand where it had remained ever since. You knew there was no use arguing with him about gifts and money anymore. When he bought you something, he was relentless until you took it.
Actually, you've grown to kind of like it.
Or, maybe you just liked the idea of Joel thinking about you when you weren't around.
Through the door, you heard the phone call cut with a terse farewell and then, the tell-tale rustle of men's dress pants with the clearing of throats. One man was still talking, his voice forcibly calm as he assured Joel that he would get back to him by the end of the day with the correct numbers on some payroll report, and then the door swung open. Men poured out, some hurrying past you without even realizing you were there, their faces red and their jaws clenched. The ones that did notice you gave a quick nod of acknowledgement before hurrying away, as if they were afraid Joel would remember he had one or two more biting comments and call them back in.
When the last of the men filed out, you heard Joel bark, "Shut the door," and then the creak of his leather chair under his weight. A man you vaguely recognized pulled the door shut behind him before spotting you. He was frazzled and exhausted when he exhaled and loosened his tie.
"Good luck," he said, and you laughed softly. You watched as the last of the men filed towards the elevators, their padfolios and phones overflowing in their hands as they shuffled onto the car and disappeared behind the closed doors.
The floor was quiet now. Joel's office was the only one with a light on.
Biting back a smirk, you pushed off Chrissy's desk and straightened your dress before rapping your knuckles on his door.
"What the fuck now?" came Joel's sharp voice from the other side. You pushed the door open and crossed your arms, waiting until he dragged his gaze up from his desk. When he realized it was you, his expression instantly softened and he stood.
"Sorry," he grumbled.
"It's okay," you replied, stepping inside the room, shutting the door behind you. Joel rounded the desk and raked his fingers through his hair. You bit your lower lip, gaze quickly drifting down his broad frame. He was wearing a white dress shirt with his dark grey suit, the coat abandoned over the back of his chair. It was the first time you had seen him since you left him asleep in bed early that morning.
"What's goin' on, baby?" he asked as he crossed the room to pour himself a drink. You made a face at the amber liquid and he swiveled around, raising the glass of whiskey in your direction.
"Want one?"
"No, Joel. It's barely noon. I came to see if you wanted to get lunch, but I'm guessing today's not the best day," you said, closing the distance between you to smooth down the front of his shirt with your palms. He lifted the glass to his lips and tossed the drink back in one go before setting it down on the bar and wrapping his big hands around yours, pressing them firmly to his chest.
"'M sorry, not havin' a great day."
"I can tell."
"You hear all that?" he murmured, bringing one of your hands up to his mouth. His lips brushed over your knuckles as he gazed at you through tired, heavy eyes and you smiled. Moments ago, those eyes were firey and filled with rage.
But not when he looked at you.
"Some of it," you admitted. "What's wrong?"
Joel exhaled through his nose and dropped his hands to your hips, giving them a little squeeze and pulling you closer. "You weren't there when I woke up this mornin'."
You rolled your eyes playfully at him and he gently pinched your side.
"I told you I had to get up early so I could get ready for work-"
"'N I told you to bring your stuff over last night," he countered.
"Joel, I hadn't been home in days. I needed to make sure the place was still standing and water my plants."
Then, he said something that sent shockwaves through your whole body.
"Just move in with me, then it ain't a problem anymore."
Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you forgot to breathe for a moment.
"What?" you asked breathlessly. But Joel just shrugged like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Move in with me," he repeated. "Plants, too."
"Y-you... you want me to move in with you? Like, permanently?" you repeated in disbelief. Joel smirked down at you and nodded.
"Yeah, like, permanently. The hell you think I mean? Get rid of that place, you know I don't like that neighborhood," he said, then lifted his chin when he heard his email program chime somewhere behind you.
"Joel... are you sure? That's a big step for you," you replied, feeling completely knocked sideways by his blunt request. Sure, he had the room. His house was the closest you'd ever come to being inside a mansion. Hell, to you it was a mansion. Six bedrooms and four bathrooms with an in-ground pool, tennis court, steam room and gym was only ever something you'd seen on television. But living in Los Angeles told you there were plenty of houses three times the size of his.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I want you with me all the time," he said, kissing your cheek before leaving you by the bar so he could check his email.
"My stuff, too? I can't imagine my shitty television in your house," you joked. Joel just nodded, his eyes pinned to his computer screen.
"Your stuff, too. I want all a'you. Even your coffee pot."
Joel collapsed angrily into his high back chair to answer the email while you sneakily slid back to the door, quietly flicking the lock before slowly walking towards his desk. You knew most people were at lunch, but you still didn't want to risk it for what you had in mind.
"Okay," you said softly, hip pressing against the hard wood, fingers nervously digging into the complex design carved into the edge.
"Okay, what?" he murmured, focus still fixed on the email. You watched his scowl deepen the more he read and you knew he was slipping back into that mood you found him in earlier.
"Okay... I'll move in with you."
His eyes snapped up to yours and for a moment, the scowl smoothed out into a pleased grin.
"Good. Start packin' tonight. Don't wanna be wakin' up anymore without you," he said, then his eyes dropped back down to his email. "Messes up my whole day when I do."
You giggled and rounded the desk, intentionally slotting yourself between his eyes and the computer.
"Is that why you're up here screaming at everyone? 'Cause you woke up without your sugar baby?"
Joel leaned back in his chair and narrowed his eyes at you.
"Quit it. You ain't a sugar baby."
"Didn't answer my question."
Joel laced his fingers together and dropped them in his lap with a sigh. "Sure didn't help."
You gave him a fake pout and leaned forward, hands bracing yourself on each arm of his chair. "I'm so sorry," you whispered, mouth hovering over his as you spoke. You could see his muscles tighten under his shirt when he heard the seductive tone in your voice. "Want me to suck your dick and make it all better?"
The corner of his mouth tugged into a devilish half-smirk, email long forgotten.
"Feels like it's the least you could do," he replied, his voice deep and gravelly. It sent a shiver down your spine and you grinned.
"The least I could do? What else do you want?" you asked before allowing your lips to brush delicately over his. You could taste the whiskey there and you licked your lips.
"Wanna bend you over this desk and fuck you. Hard."
A soft moan slipped past your lips right before his mouth crashed into yours. His tongue opened your mouth, licking feverishly past your teeth, giving you a stronger taste of the whiskey and mint from the gum he was likely chewing in anger during the meeting.
"I think that can be arranged," you gasped when you pulled away from his kiss. His dark eyes lit up when you sunk to your knees, his legs spreading wider when you began to unbuckle his belt. Two fingers rubbed against his lips, hiding his smile while he watched you pop the button on his slacks and slowly work the zipper down.
Your heart was beating wildly in your chest when you dipped your fingers past his waistband and felt the stiffness of his cock hiding just underneath a thin layer of fabric. Your eyes flickered up to meet his and with a sly smile, you said, "Hard already?"
Joel shrugged with a shit-eating grin.
"Been hard since you walked in the goddamn room, baby."
You bit back a smile, chest bursting with pride and, yeah, it turned you on to be the one who made this big, scary man all soft and weak. Rubbing your thighs together, you inched forward to gently pull his stiff cock over the top of his underwear.
You tutted under your breath and frowned, both of you watching your hand slowly slide up and down his shaft.
"Poor thing," you murmured, smiling when you heard his breath stutter after your thumb swiped over the bead of arousal pooling at the tip. "Look at you. All worked up and angry the whole morning when all you needed to do was call me. I would've come up to help you."
Joel gasped, fingernails digging into the padded leather armrests when he felt your fingers tighten around him.
"Then fuckin'... goddamnit - fuckin' help me now. C'mon, quit teasin' me and suck it," he commanded through clenched teeth.
You raised an eyebrow at him and your hand paused.
"Say please."
"Please," he whined without hesitation. The sound made you weak, eyelids fluttering for a second before you shook it off and met his gaze again.
"Good boy."
He smirked down at you, some snappy response on the tip of his tongue but it disappeared when your wet lips wrapped around him, tongue darting forward to flick teasingly at his slit, all while maintaining eye contact.
"Oh, fuck," he groaned, allowing his eyes to close and his head to tip back when you took him deeper into your mouth. Before he reached the back of your throat, you swirled your tongue around his girth, moaning when you tasted a new drop of precum.
"Yeah, baby, just like that," he murmured when his hand found a new home on the back of your head. Carefully, he urged you down, hissing when you hollowed your cheeks and took him as deep as you could handle. Joel forced his eyes to open so he could admire the pretty little mess he made of you. Your lips were swollen and wet, stretched wide over his considerable length while you focused on keeping your breath steady and your gag reflex in check.
He could have came from the sight alone.
You pulled back with a gasp, saliva pooling around the corners of your mouth as you dragged in deep lungfuls of air. Your hand picked up where your mouth left off, twisting your wrist and spreading the wetness up and down his shaft as you caught your breath for a second.
"You taste so good, Joel," you whispered, locking eyes with him again. "Might just have you come down my throat, instead."
Before he could answer, your lips were wrapped around him again, sucking and moaning around his cock like it was the sweetest thing in the world.
"No," he rasped, fingers tightening their hold in your hair. "Wanna - fuck you," he added with a deep groan. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he let you keep going, his hips involuntarily bucking up towards your mouth as he spoke.
Right when you began to get carried away, your head bobbing faster and your wrist flicking quicker, he yanked you off with a shared gasp.
"Sorry," he apologized, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment before reopening them. "Too close."
You stood up, thumb swiping your lower lip with a cocky grin. Then, Joel watched as you shimmied out of your panties, dropping them in his lap before hiking up the skirt of your dress to your mid-thigh.
"Whenever you're ready, sir."
He chuckled darkly and stood, thighs trembling for just a quick moment before he swiveled a finger in the air.
"Turn 'round."
You did as you were told, palms pressed flat against the top of his desk, tilting your hips back so your ass jutted out, just barely covered by your dress.
With one hand he pulled the material up, exposing you to the tinted windows behind him. His other hand came down with a sharp smack across your skin, the action so fast and unexpected that it took you a few seconds to register it.
"Again," you whispered over your shoulder, this time bracing for the hot sting of pain across your ass. When he gave it to you, you moaned, arousal pulling tight between your legs, then you dropped your head limply between your shoulders as the pain blossomed into pleasure.
"That's my girl," he growled in your ear. His knee pushed your legs open and you held your breath when he leaned back to slide his cock through your folds before lining himself up at your opening.
"Breathe, baby," he whispered, and you let out a shaky breath right as he pushed inside.
"Shit," you panted, arching your back and digging your fingers into the dark wood of his desk while he continued to ease inside of you, muscles only relaxing when he finally buried himself to the hilt and his lips returned to the shell of your ear.
It wasn't the first time he fucked you in his office. In fact, both of you were very eager to take advantage of the new situation only a week into the start of your job. But it didn't matter how many times you'd done it because it was still always a thrill. There was something incredibly hot about this powerful man fucking you on his desk. Or his couch. Or his chair.
Or one time on the conference room table long after close of business.
Joel set a quick pace right away, knowing full well your time was limited before people began to return from lunch and inevitably came looking for him. One hand remained firmly on your hip while the other drifted up to squeeze your breast through your dress, fingers giving your nipple a little pinch just so he could hear you whimper for him.
"Always ready for me, ain't you?" he groaned, teeth grazing over your earlobe. His breath was shallow, soft pants against your skin matching the rhythm of his hips. "Christ, baby. So fuckin' wet. You love takin' my cock like this, huh? Or was it me askin' you to move in that did it?"
"Both," you moaned, tossing your head back to rest on his shoulder, eyes gliding shut and mouth falling open as you focused on the intense pace he set. The tip of his cock brushed steadily against that spot inside you that had your knees going weak and you could feel that warmth in your stomach turning into fire the harder he fucked you.
Joel's eyes lifted to glance at his door when he heard the faint sound of voices filing off the elevator. Lunch hour was wrapping up, and so was your time. He clenched his jaw and pounded into you faster, the telltale sound of skin slapping against skin the only noise echoing in the room.
"I... locked it," you gasped, falling forward onto your elbows, hips sparking with pain against the hard wood of his desk. He grinned and straightened his spine, watching the way your ass rippled against him every time he slammed into you.
"Good. 'Cause no one gets to see you like this 'cept for me."
You nodded dumbly, unable to form words as your orgasm began to swell, threatening to destroy you. Your pussy started to pulse around him, stars littering your vision and you slapped your palm over your mouth to muffle the sound when you came.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he groaned, hips losing rhythm. Breath growing sharp. Fingers digging deep and eyes rolling to the back of his head. You whimpered when he pounded into you one last time, stilling as he pumped you full of his release, broken moans tumbling from his lips until he was spent.
Almost immediately, his arms wrapped around you, pulling you up and pressing you protectively against his chest.
"You okay?"
"Mhm," you hummed, admittedly still in a bit of a daze but you were starting to snap out of it. His ragged breath in your ear was all you could hear, his pounding heart against your back all you could feel, and it was enough.
Without warning, he slipped out of you, but kept his arms circled around your front, pressing sweet kisses behind your ear and down your neck. You melted into him, knowing how much he enjoyed holding you after, at least until he caught his breath and came back down to earth.
"I love you."
Those three words still managed to send a tingle down your spine and brought a lazy smile to your face.
"I love you, too," you whispered, twisting your neck so your mouth could seek out his. His beard was untamed and prickly against your lips, tickling you and making you giggle.
"C'mon, get yourself decent," he teased with a playful grin and a smack against your thigh. He stepped backwards to fix his clothes while you swiveled back and forth, searching the ground for your panties.
"Lookin' for these?" he asked, holding them up between two fingers when you turned around. You reached out to grab them but he pulled them back, shoving them in his pocket before tucking in his shirt.
"You're gonna make me walk around the rest of the day without underwear? With your come dripping out of me?" you asked. You already resigned yourself to your fate and pulled down the skirt of your dress.
Joel pinched your chin and pressed a quick kiss against your lips.
"Yep. Just the way I like you."
"Dirty man."
"Just the way you like me," he laughed, dodging your hand when you reached out to smack him against the arm.
You opened your mouth to say something back when his desk phone chimed and the red light in the corner lit up. Joel finished buckling his belt and glanced up at you to make sure you had fixed yourself before pressing the intercom button.
"Yeah?"
Chrissy's nervous voice filtered through the speaker.
"Mr. Miller, just confirming your dinner reservation for tonight. Still expecting three people?"
"Yep," he replied, then thought about it for a quick second before pressing the button again. "Thanks, Chrissy. Why don't you take off early, after my two o'clock?"
You grinned, practically sensing her shock through the wall as you sat down in the chair opposite his desk.
"Uh... okay. T-thank you so much!"
"No problem," he said, then the red light turned off and he slumped down tiredly into his leather desk chair.
"Where are we going tonight?" you asked, crossing one leg over the other while you watched him shake his computer mouse back to life.
"Sarah picked this time. Some Mexican spot she wanted to try," he murmured, already fixating on an email in front of him. After some encouragement on your end, Joel had reached out to Sarah around the same time he called Tommy for the first time in years. While things had been rocky and awkward at first, it got easier over time. Eventually, they committed to dinners every other week, and after maybe the fourth one, Sarah had asked to meet you.
You were nervous leading up to it, but the moment you met you knew you'd get along. She was smart, beautiful, funny and had the same smile as her dad. She told you both a little bit about high school but preferred to talk about her soccer team or the play she was trying out for.
She didn't mention her mom much, and you didn't want to pry. From what Joel had mentioned, her mother ended up having some substance abuse issues in the past, which caused a strain on her relationship with Sarah. He felt horrible when he found out, told you that he felt like he should have been involved more to protect her, but you reminded him that he was there for her now and that you were proud of him for stepping up.
Despite it all, Sarah was a great kid. Every time you saw her, she opened up a bit more, smiled wider and laughed louder. After your dinners together, you could see the change in Joel: he was happier, too.
"Sounds good. I like Mexican," you said, fidgeting with your ring while Joel quietly replied to an email. The scowl was gone, his shoulders were looser and there were no more angry taps on the keyboard.
You opened your mouth to announce you should get back to work when he suddenly spoke.
"Why're you wearin' the ring on your right hand?"
Your eyes flickered up to his face but he looked like he was still absorbed in an email.
"This ring?" you asked, holding up your hand. It was the only ring you wore but you didn't know what else to say. You'd been wearing it on your right hand for months and he never said a word.
"Yeah. You wore it on your other hand in Fiji," he said, tearing his eyes away from the computer to look at you.
You stood up from your seat and gave him a curious look. "We were pretending to be engaged then, if you recall. We're not engaged now."
Joel smirked, the corners of his mouth dipping down when he shrugged, then stood to walk you to the door.
"Huh. Suppose you're right. Someone oughta do somethin' 'bout that."
You threw your head back and laughed before coming to a stop at his door and turning around.
"You just asked me to move in with you. What happened to the commitment-phobe I fell in love with?"
He grinned and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close so he could press a gentle kiss against your lips.
"You're right. I'll wait a week," he joked, then gave your ass a little tap before opening his door for you. "Thanks for lunch," he added as you walked past Chrissy, who was mid-whisper to Liam, no doubt telling him about Joel's sudden burst of generosity. You gave them both a little wave and tossed a wink over your shoulder at Joel leaning against his doorway, hands shoved in his pants pockets with a sly smirk on his face after his fingertips grazed the wet fabric shoved in there.
"See you tonight."
"Can't wait," he said, watching you disappear around the corner towards the elevator bank.
"So, you ate?" Liam confirmed, holding a leather bound journal and pen in his hand as he approached Joel. Even though the answer was no, he still nodded in response. "Good, because I have a couple things," he continued after clearing his throat. "Ellie's painting arrived yesterday, I'm having it gift wrapped right now. I got a call back from the guy who's renting you the yacht. He's good for Saturday. The captain and crew know the deal, too. Drop the anchor, make the food, pour the champagne, and disappear after dinner's cleared up. They have a little boat they can take back to land so the yacht's all yours til morning."
A slow smile stretched across his face and he looked down the hall again, towards the elevator bank.
"Reschedule it for next week. I made a promise."
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