#ceo x secretary | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thehighladywrites · 29 days ago

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Interview me

pairing: ceo!rhysand x secretary bimbo!reader

summary: life is hard and you need a job to stay alive. naturally, you apply at a simple job at a company you know nothing about. Well, except for the fact that your boss is a smokeshow.

warnings: swearing

amara’s note: i’m so fucking hyped for this series guysss i have so many ideas hihihihihihihi

explore azriel’s bimboverse !

explore cassian’s bimboverse !

“Shit, shit, shit—I’m soooo not gonna make it!”

Your heels clacked dramatically against the glossy, stupidly expensive floors of an even more expensive skyscraper. Ugh, why did life have to be so unfair? You were made for luxury, not working, but apparently, rent and shopping sprees didn’t pay for themselves. So, you had reluctantly applied for a simple, cute little job—being the personal secretary for some CEO.

You sprinted toward the elevator, practically flinging yourself inside just as the doors were about to close.

“No—wait! Please hold it!”

A man’s hand shot out, stopping the doors. You stumbled in, panting, before beaming up at him.

“You’re very nice! Thank you, mister!”

You didn’t notice the way his eyes slowly dragged down your body, lingering on your barely-buttoned white blouse and tight little skirt that hugged every curve.

“Yeah, no problem, sweetheart,” he said, voice dripping with something you were too busy fixing your hair to pick up on. “You work here?”

“Oh, um, not yet! I think I’m actually gonna get fired before I even get hired because I accidentally overslept. My alarm is sooooo weird.” You giggled, fixing a strand of hair.

He chuckled, pressing a button. “What floor?”

“The top one! I’m here to be the CEO’s secretary.”

His smirk widened, his eyes practically devouring you. “Oh yeah? Lucky guy. He’d be a damn fool not to snatch you up.”

You blinked, confused. “Huh? I mean I haven’t got much experience, not sure he’s be that lucky.”

His creepy grin didn’t falter. “Yeah. Sure that’s what I meant.”

The elevator dinged, and he stepped out onto his floor, but not before leaning in just a little too close.

“Guess I’ll be seeing you around, sweetheart,” he murmured, voice low and sticky.

The second the doors shut, you frowned to yourself as you went up the floors until a ding took you out of your trance.

A slim, tall, stupidly beautiful redhead stood before you, clutching a neat stack of papers. She looked so put together—her sleek bun, her expensive-looking glasses, her perfectly ironed blouse. Ugh. She totally looked like someone who knew how to do her job.

You, on the other hand, were still reeling from the sheer luxury of this office. The marble floors, the floor-to-ceiling windows, the rich people smell. Was this really where you were going to work? Oh my god.

The redhead cleared her throat, clearly unimpressed with your gawking. “Ms. L/N? Mr. Rhysand is ready for you.”

“Oh! Right! Yeah, of course!” You smoothed down your skirt and stepped forward—business wear was so not your thing. It totally oppressed your usual style and it made you look too corporate-y.

The redhead sighed. “This way.”

You nodded, flashing her a big, dazzling smile as you followed her down the hallway.

“Mr. Rhysand is a very busy man who doesn’t tolerate mistakes. Don’t embarrass yourself.”

She gave you a slow, judgmental once-over before scoffing. “And maybe try dressing like a professional instead of a hooker.”

You blinked, tilting your head. “Oh… is this too much?” You glanced down at your outfit, genuinely puzzled. “I thought it was classy. It’s Massimo Dutti.”

The redhead’s expression didn’t change. “Just don’t waste his time,” she muttered before turning on her heel and walking away.

Shrugging, you smoothed down your skirt and took a deep breath before pushing open the office doors. Whatever. You looked cute, and that was what mattered.

You stepped into the office, heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Your breath hitched as you took in the sheer luxury of the space—floor-to-ceiling windows stretching across the entire wall, offering a breathtaking view of the city skyline. The furniture was sleek, dark, and expensive, the kind you only saw in glossy magazines.

Rhysand stood by the windows, hands in his pockets, suit tailored to perfection. The late afternoon light poured in behind him, casting his tall, broad-shouldered frame in a golden glow. His dark hair was effortlessly tousled, and when he finally turned to look at you, piercing eyes locking onto yours, your stomach did a little flip.

Oh. Oh fuck.

You were pretty sure you forgot how to breathe for a second. He was stupidly handsome. Very young and very attractive. Sure, he looked older than you but still. You had expected a greying man to be the big boss.

“You’re late.”

His voice was smooth and rich—like honey and sin wrapped in silk.

Your lips parted slightly. Right. The interview. Not staring at your ridiculously gorgeous potential boss.

“You’re… young.”

Rhysand’s brow arched. “Excuse me?” His tone was warm, maybe even amused, but his expression remained unreadable.

Your eyes widened. “Oh, I mean—I just—I meant to say there was something wrong with my alarm. I swear I’m not usually late!”

Heat crawled up your neck. His voice alone had you all flustered, and the way he was looking at you? Yeah, this was bad for your focus.

Rhysand hummed, watching you for a moment longer before nodding toward the chair in front of his desk. “Right. Let’s begin.”

He walked over, effortlessly graceful, and leaned against the edge of his desk—half lounging, half scrutinizing as you sat down, smoothing your skirt.

”So,” Rhysand leaned forward slightly, elbows resting on his thighs as he studied you. “Tell me why you think you’re the right fit for this position.”

You straightened, flashing him your brightest, most confident smile. ”I’m very organized! And great at, um… scheduling things and answering phones! I’ll do whatever you want and need.”

Rhysand’s lips curled slightly, the hint of a smirk playing at the edges. His violet eyes flickered with something unreadable as he watched you, head tilting just a fraction.

“Whatever I want and need?” His voice was smooth, dangerously amused.

You blinked, nodding obliviously. “Yep! I’m super dedicated. I’ll make your coffee, organize your files, take notes, remind you of meetings—oh! And I’m a great assistant. I’ll be there when ya need me.”

Rhysand let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “That’s good to know.” His gaze swept over you, lingering just long enough to make you squirm before he leaned back, arms crossing over his chest again.

“So, tell me, what do you know about this company?”

Shit. You knew absolutely nothing. His eyes narrowed, clearly seeing right through you. Damn it. You only had one option left. You flashed him a saccharine smile. You’d charm your way out, even if it was tacky.

“I’m sure you’re doing super important work, Mr. CEO. I’m just here to support you in all your very important tasks,” you said, stalling and distracting him with your charm.

Of course, Rhysand saw right through you. He could see right through your game, but he let you believe you were in control. You were quick, clever, and undeniably sweet—something about it intrigued him.

“Well,” he said, leaning forward slightly, clasping his hands together on the desk, and trying to hide the amused smirk that was growing on his face. “You certainly sound like someone who could handle the demands of my busy days.”

Not really. There were at least a hundred more qualified candidates he had interviewed, all more experienced and better suited for the job. But Rhysand wasn’t interested in any of them. He did what he wanted, and right now, what he wanted was you.

His smile softened slightly as he leaned forward again, arms crossed. “You’re hired,” he said, his voice deep and steady. “You start tomorrow.”

You blinked in surprise, but then your smile brightened as you stood to shake his hand. “Thank you! I won’t let you down!”

Rhysand’s grip was firm, his thumb brushing lightly over your wrist. A small, knowing smile curved his lips. “I don’t expect you to. I don’t expect mistakes, nor do I tolerate them.”

There was no malice in his words, just quiet confidence—like he already knew you’d be just fine.

You swallowed, nodding quickly as he slid a sleek manila envelope across the desk, along with a heavy, expensive-looking pen. You hesitated for only a moment before pulling out the papers, scanning through them quickly.

Your breath hitched.

Your eyes widened as you reread the number, making sure you hadn’t misread. That much money—for what? Just following him around, keeping his schedule in check, answering a few calls, and being… supportive?

Woah.

Trying to mask your shock, you steadied your hand and signed where needed before sliding the papers back toward him. You stood, reaching out to shake his hand again, this time with newfound excitement.

Rhysand clasped your hand in his, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. His smirk deepened slightly. God, he’s enjoy this.

“Welcome to the job.”

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austinbutlerslovers · 1 month ago

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CEO Daddy

Label Mature 18+

Summary Your boss decides it’s time for a vacation after a stressful year —using you as his stress relief.

🔗 Masterlist

❤️‍��Passionate Smut❤️‍🔥 CEO x Secretary •powerplay dynamics •pleasure trip • sexcation •sex on a desk •clitplay •oral on fem• sub Austin• hair pulling • lap riding • restraint • choking fetish • orgasms • aftercare

🫦Smut Consultant 👑 @peggyao3 🥵 🙇🏻‍♀️ 💕 Dedicated to @soft-mama-reads @aust-een @eternal-love @psycheetamore @dunevitani @austinbutlerfly. *Fic inspo 🌸 beautiful comments 🌸

CEO Daddy

After a particularly stressful year, with his successful merger and the finality of his divorce, Austin decides it’s time for a break. He relies on you, his most trusted secretary, who’s not only helped him manage every detail of his company but has also been his quiet support navigating his personal challenges.

The clicking of his keys slowly ceases as he finishes his last email. He leans back in his chair, exhaling a slow sigh before looking up at you, his expression softening for the first time in what feels like weeks.

“Pack your bags,” he says, his voice smooth yet resolute. “We’re getting away for a while.”

A slow grin spreads across your lips at his decisiveness. “Is that an order, Mr. Butler?” you tease, stepping around his desk, drawn to him without even thinking.

As you come closer, Austin’s gaze shifts, his blue eyes locking onto yours with a quiet depth that makes your heart race.

“It’s mandatory,” he corrects, his tone lower, more intimate as you push his laptop aside, settling directly in front of him spreading your legs apart on his desk.

His eyes drop to the space between your thighs, his fingers trailing down your silk blouse, his touch slow and appreciative.

“We deserve a break,” he whispers, his thumbs brushing over your waist before skimming lower, tracing the curve of your hips.

You tilt your head, running a hand through his sandy blond hair, your fingers sliding lightly through the curls at the nape of his neck. His breath hitches, his blue eyes flicking up to meet yours filled with lust.

“You understand me the way no one else does,” he confesses, his voice softer, his fingers slipping up your thighs, squeezing lightly as he rises from his chair.

You smile up at him gripping his tie and slowly pulling him toward you until his lips meet yours in a slow, passionate kiss. His hands squeeze your waist as his body presses between your legs, kissing you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

This is how it all began, the inevitable affair. The lines blurred the moment you let him kiss you, and after that, there was no stopping it.

You live to indulge his every whim, his every desire, anticipating his needs before he even speaks them aloud himself.

His lips catch yours again, teasing, consuming, his hands splayed over your thighs, grounding you on his desk. One thumb strokes over your clit, the subtle pressure making your breath catch, your legs parting instinctively.

Your hand moves between you, slipping your panties aside, and that’s all he needs. His breath shudders against your lips, his control faltering as he kisses down your neck, weak and hungry for more.

His belt comes undone with a sharp clink, his fingers working fast, unzipping his pants in one smooth motion before easing his large cock free.

Your hands roam up his neck, your nails grazing through the curls at his nape—his weakness.

A shiver runs through him, his head dipping forward as he presses the thick head of his cock against your entrance. A breathy groan spills from his lips as he pushes forward, the stretch making you tense.

A moan spills from your lips, your walls clenching tight and he stills, his grip loosening on your hips as he presses kisses to your jaw, soft and coaxing letting you adjust to the sheer size of him.

Your hand moves between you, your fingers circling your clit, sending surges of pleasure shooting through your core. The sight of you touching yourself, taking him in, makes his jaw clench, as he groans deep from his chest.

His grip retightens, his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips push forward, setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure surging through you, his strength keeping you steady as his lips continue to find yours between gasps and moans.

He cups your chin in one hand tilting your face up and capturing your mouth in a reverent kiss, swallowing every sound you make as the pleasure coils tighter, his thrusts hitting deeper, sharper, more precise, pushing you closer to breaking.

And when you finally let go, your head falling back as his name spills from your lips, the pleasure crashes over you in waves, your walls clenching tightly on his cock.

A deep, needy groan fills his chest, his hips jerking as his movements grow faster, less controlled, laced with something desperate, something raw.

Pathetic little grunts spill from his lips, his head tilting back, his breath coming out in short, shallow pants.

“It’s so good—you’re so good,” he rasps, his voice wrecked, needy, completely at your mercy.

You feel it— in the way his body tightens, his muscles flexing against you, the way his breath stutters, his rhythm faltering, his cock twitching deep inside you, betraying just how close he is.

You grip his silk tie, pulling him close until your lips brush against his ear. “Such a good CEO Daddy, taking care of your secretary like this,” you praise, your voice filled with sweet seduction.

The words hit him hard, his entire body responding instantly and your other hand slides up tugging on the curls at his nape just enough to sting, as a desperate, wrecked cry spills from his lips.

You curl his tie around your hand, tightening it just enough to feel the fabric tighten around his throat, the silk taut against his flushed skin.

His Adam’s apple bobs as a raw, choked-off moan breaks from his lips—something between a gasp and a groan, pure and unrestrained.

His hips falter, his body trembling as he fights against the overwhelming pleasure tearing through him.

His flushed face deepens in color, as redness blooms across his cheeks and neck, his chest heaving with shallow, stuttering pants.

His lashes flutter, his blue eyes hazy as you restrain him and he fights against the tension on his neck, until he’s lost in the way you own him in the moment.

His cock throbs violently inside you, pulsing, twitching, his body tightening under your control— completely wrecked, completely yours.

His muscles lock, his hands gripping you tighter as he lets out a deep, shuddering groan, his hips snapping forward in a final, erratic thrust. His jaw goes slack as he comes, his release pulsing deep inside you, his entire body tensing from the force of it.

Slowly, you loosen the knot of his tie, letting the fabric fall slack around his throat.

Before he can even catch his breath, you kiss him immediately, your hands sliding up to cradle his jaw.

He struggles to breathe against your mouth, still panting, still reeling, but he kisses you nonetheless—deep, hungry, desperate to hold onto you just a little longer. For a moment, you stay wrapped around each other, your breaths mingling, the city lights flickering beyond the window a silent witnesses to everything you both surrendered to.

A sleek black car company arrives at your apartment the next morning, and as you settle into the plush leather seat, a sense of excitement rushes through you.

You can’t quite imagine the world Austin exists in—the kind of life he leads outside of his company—but you’re about to see firsthand.

The drive is smooth, the city changing into the coast. As you approach the marina, the view opens to a collection of yachts, each one grander than the last. But none compare to the one waiting at the farthest dock.

It’s not a yacht —it’s a mega yacht

Your heart skips a beat.

The car pulls to a stop, and as you step out, your gaze finds him immediately.

Austin stands near the dock railing, effortlessly poised, his back to you as he takes in the water.

The ocean breeze ruffles through his sandy blonde hair, his tan Yves Saint Laurent suit impeccably tailored matching the Yves St.Laurent sunglasses perched on his nose adding to his effortless elegance

With his handsome features, catching the last rays of the sun he exudes a quiet power—calm, commanding, utterly at ease in his world of wealth.

When he turns to face you, his expression softens and as he smiles, your heart races slightly.

He’s handsome, undeniably so. But more than that, there’s something magnetic about him—something that makes you feel like the world narrows to just the two of you when he is near.

“You made it.” He grins, pulling you in and pressing a soft lingering kiss to your lips.

You meet his beautiful blue eyes, a smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trail through his sandy blond hair. “Of course, Mr. Butler,” you tease, your voice warm. “Your secretary always takes care of you, doesn’t she?”

His smirk deepens at the playful edge in your tone, his hand taking yours as he turns toward the yacht. Its sheer size is staggering—sleek, towering, and pristine, a floating palace on the water.

As you step forward, absorbing the scene around you, a full crew waits in line along the dock. A chef, a maid, a steward, a captain—and even more unseen . A deckhand, an engineer, a personal concierge, even a massage therapist. Every attendant on the dock is poised with quiet professionalism, their respect for Austin evident in the way they stand at attention.

You glance at Austin, still in disbelief. “All this for you?”

The corners of his mouth lift, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. “For us,” he corrects, his voice rich with certainty.

With his hand resting firmly at the small of your back, he guides you up the gangway. The scent of salt and polished teak fills the air, the gentle sway of the yacht beneath your feet a quiet promise of the luxury and indulgence that awaits.

Before you even step aboard, your bags are taken care of, disappearing into the lavish interior before you can even think about them.

Inside the Yacht the main floor is a vision of opulence. The walls gleam with warm oak paneling, offset by plush ivory furnishings.

Glass doors stretch from floor to ceiling, revealing the ocean beyond. A grand spiral staircase leads to the upper levels, while an open lounge area seats deep leather sofas, a marble bar stocked with rare liquors, and a grand piano gleaming in the corner.

“Austin,” you breathe, still processing the sheer size of it all.

He only watches you, hands in his pockets, amused at your reaction.

“Come with me,” he says, leading you down a hallway lined with abstract artwork.

He opens a set of doubles doors stepping aside so you can take in the stateroom—his bedroom.

The space is nothing short of a sanctuary. A massive king-sized bed with crisp Egyptian cotton sheets dominates the room, positioned against a padded suede headboard. Soft lighting glows from beneath the furniture, casting a golden hue.

At the far end, a wall of glass doors leads to a private deck, the ocean stretching infinitely beyond it. A walk-in closet larger than most apartments sits to one side, while an ensuite bathroom holds a soaking tub, a rainfall shower, and marble countertops lined with luxury skincare.

And then, there’s the iPad.

You pick it up, curiosity piqued, and scroll through its customized settings.

•Sleep: natural rhythm.

•Music Preferences: Your favorite artists already uploaded.

•Meal Preferences: Notes on your favorite dishes, ingredients, even your preferred coffee order.

You glance at Austin, stunned. “You did all this?”

His hands settle on your waist, his voice steady. “I pay attention.” He says.

You grin, tilting your head up as you close the space between you, pressing your lips to his in a slow lingering kiss.

It’s soft at first filled with all you’re appreciation and when Austin deepens it, you suddenly feel it everywhere.

His lips press against yours with purpose, his tongue gliding out, tracing your bottom lip for entry

You part for him, allowing him in, and the second his tongue strokes against yours a rush of pleasure shoots down your spine.

His tongue moves in deep, languid strokes, teasing, exploring, making you feel every second of it

A soft, pleased sound escapes you against his lips as your fingers curl into the hair at the nape of his neck, needing something to hold onto.

A soft knock interrupts, breaking the moment as you and Austin pull back from the kiss “ I forgot our little surprise.” he says.

As he opens the door a steward awaits with two glasses of chilled champagne.

“To celebrate “ Austin grins and takes a glass, offering the other to you

“To getting away after a stressful year,” he says, lifting his glass in a quiet toast. You smile, tapping your glass against his, the crisp chime of crystal filling the air.

“We deserve a break,” you grin, repeating his own words and taking a slow sip of champagne feeling the tingling against your lips before drinking it down smoothly.

Austin watches you for a moment, then drains his glass in one slow pull. Without another word, he takes your hand, his grip warm and certain, leading you toward the bow. “I want to show you the best view” he says.

The yacht begins to move, gliding out of the harbor and into the open sea as you reach the bow. The water shifts from a deep sapphire to a boundless dark blue, the city skyline shrinking in the distance.

Austin steps behind you poised at the railing, his warmth solid against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist. The salty air brushes your skin as you exhale, finally feeling the tension leaving your body.

“You see yourself living like this more often?” he asks, his lips brushing the shell of your ear.

You smile, tilting your head slightly. “I could definitely get used to a life like this.” you confess and he grins pressing a slow, lingering kiss behind your ear that makes you smile.

As the sun sets, dinner is served on the upper deck. The ocean turns black, an endless void stretching beneath a sky speckled with stars.

The table is set with candlelight, and before you sits a perfectly prepared lobster, the scent of butter and herbs filling the air.

You wear a dress that catches Austin’s eye, a silk, elegant, backless gown that hugs your curves in all the right places. His gaze darkens as he watches you, his appreciation obvious.

A steward pours wine into crystal glasses, the deep red liquid catching the light.

Austin lifts his glass, his eyes steady on yours in a toast.

“To you,” he says, his voice low and sincere. “For everything this year.”

You lift your glass, meeting his gaze as you clink yours against his, the soft chime of crystal ringing through air.

Bringing the rim to your lips, you take a sip, the rich notes of dark fruit and oak lingering on your tongue, the warmth spreading through you.

You meet his gaze, knowing exactly what he means. It hasn’t been an easy year for either of you, with his sudden divorce and recent merger, and yet, you had been there through it all.

In this peaceful moment, you can see through the layers of who he is— the powerful CEO, the man who keeps everything in control—and the one looking at you now, seeking, searching for something more.

“I’m glad I could be here for you,” you say, your voice steady, despite the flutter in your chest.

Austin smiles, a small, almost shy smile.

For a moment, there is no need for words. The quiet bond between you is all that matters.

After dinner you both enter the master stateroom, the ocean hums against the hull, a soothing, rhythmic sound that fills the opulent space.

The room is bathed in blue moonlight, casting soft shadows over the suede paneled walls and sleek ebony furnishings.

A marble fireplace flickers with a low flame, its warmth subtle against the cool sea air drifting through the slightly open balcony doors.

Austin watches you as you glide across his room, your fingers trailing absentmindedly over the solid crystal plaque mounted on a sleek ebony pedestal with a prestigious award engraved with his name

Your eyes roam the room, taking in the understated elegance of his personal space—the place where he sleeps, where he unwinds from the weight of his empire.

Your backless dress dips low, revealing the delicate curve of your waist, the fabric clinging to your hips before pooling at your feet. Austin follows the motion as you slowly pace the room, his gaze dark and intensely observant.

“You did so much for me this year,” he confides, his voice quieter now, reverent, thoughtful. His hands rest in his pockets, but there’s something in the way he holds himself—open, vulnerable, unguarded.

His throat works around the words, his jaw tensing before he continues. “You helped me in more ways than I ever thought possible.��he says, his voice softer. “And I want to make sure you know that I appreciate you—more than words can really convey.”

You pause, the weight of his admission settling between you like an unspoken promise.

Then, you turn just enough to glance at him your eyes catching his ,seeing his expression unwavering with the sincerity of his words

You pause, your voice filled with certainty.

“There’s still so much more I want to do for you, Austin,” you confess, your voice laced with intent, heavy with meaning.

You cross the distance between you, watching as his chest rises and falls a little deeper, his breath slowing, his eyes locked onto yours.

The moment your bodies touch, his hands find you, sliding up, fingertips ghosting over the silk of your backless dress, tracing the exposed curve of your spine.

You find the nape of his neck, threading your fingers into the soft strands of his hair, tugging just enough to make his breath catch.

You kiss him, slow at first, languid, teasing, drawing him in only to slip away. His lips chase yours, desperate for more, but you pull back slightly, just as he tries to kiss you again, your breath warm against his lips. “Let me take care of you.” You whisper.

His jaw clenches, his breath uneven as his eyes flicker with something unspoken, something deeper.

“I want that— I want you,” he admits, his voice strained with desire.

His hands find your hips, fingers digging in just enough to remind you who he is, how much he wants you.

Your hand drifts lower, fingers slipping into the slight part in his pristine white button-up, the thin stripes barely visible under the low light.

With a single, measured pull you guide him forward, leading him toward the bed as he follows your silent command.

When you reach the bed, you push him down, making him sit.

His hands grip the mattress as he tilts his head up and the way he looks at you —as if he’s already lost in you, as if he’s willing to let you strip him of everything he controls—sends a thrill through you.

Slowly, methodically, you begin to undress him.

First, you unfasten the buttons of his YSL dress shirt, exposing the smooth, golden skin of his collarbone.

As his white shirt falls open you push it from his shoulders, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the way his breath deepens betraying how much he wants you.

Next, your fingers move to his belt pulling the leather through the loops with a soft whispering hiss before placing it on the bed.

The tan fabric of his slacks feels impossibly expensive beneath your touch. You pop open the button, dragging down the zipper with the slowest pull, feeling the way his thighs tense beneath your palm.

You kneel down to remove his dress shoes , watching the way he looks at you—his eye hungry, waiting and willing to let you take everything from him tonight.

By the time he’s sitting naked before you, stripped of his power, his influence, his carefully controlled persona, he looks up at you with something close to devotion.

And you know—you have him exactly where you want him.

Your fingers take the leather belt resting on the bed, lifting it slowly, intentionally.

His eyes track the movement, his body tense with anticipation as you loop the belt around his neck, securing it just enough to stay in place.

He swallows hard, his jaw tightening, his muscles flexing as the cool leather presses against his throat.

You tilt your head, watching him with amusement in your eyes.

“Such a powerful CEO,” you muse your finger gliding along the leather at his throat.

“A man with infinite wealth and influence—feared in boardrooms, respected across industries.”

You step back as your grip on the belt tightens.

“And yet, your brought down on your knees by a mere secretary.”

Before he can react you give the belt a sharp tug.

His breath catches, his body falling forward on his knees after the pull.

You smile tilting his chin up with a single finger, letting the belt stay snug around his neck, watching how his breath hitches, his pupils blown wide, completely, undone, completely yours.

“Pull up my dress.” You direct.

He obeys, his hands sliding up your thighs, bunching the silky fabric higher until your fingers hold it in place. His own pausing as he reaches for the delicate lace beneath.

“Take them off.” You order.

Without hesitation he hooks his fingers into your panties, pulling them down your legs.

The feel of his breath is warm on your skin as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thighs already knowing what’s next.

His eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you utterly willing to ruin himself for you.

“Such a commanding CEO,” you praise, your nails grazing his scalp just enough to make him shiver. “Always in charge and in control, isn’t that right?” You purr, threading your fingers in his hair tugging just enough to make him groan.

“But not tonight.” You pause, letting the words settle between you, “Tonight, you’re going to please me until I’m satisfied for all of my hard work this year.”

His response is instant, a deep desperate groan filled with need from his chest.

You give the belt a sharp tug bringing his face forward and he buries himself between your thighs, his mouth latching onto you with an eagerness that makes your breath stutter.

His hands spread against the backs of your legs, holding you open, holding you still, as he devours you with long, slow strokes of his tongue, then sharper, hungrier ones.

The first lick of his tongue makes your head fall back, a breathy gasp escaping your lips. The next has your fingers tightening in his hair, urging him closer, deeper.

“Austin!” you gasp, looking down at him, watching the way his broad shoulders flex, the way his biceps tighten as he grips you, anchoring himself to you in the moment.

His mouth works harder, faster, sucking, teasing, flicking his tongue in devastating rhythms. Your thighs start to tremble, pleasure coiling tight, and he feels it—he knows it—because he groans against you, the vibration making you gasp.

“Oh —Austin.” You moan your voice breathless.

He groans again—wrecked, desperate, lost in the act of pleasing you.

And when the pleasure finally snaps, when your body shudders against his mouth, your thighs tense as a broken moans spills from your lips. He drags you through every last wave, his tongue relentless, drinking in every shudder, every gasp, every whimper until you’re panting, spent, body trembling in his grasp.

Finally, you release your dress as he pulls back, looking up at you. His lips are swollen, glistening with evidence of just how thoroughly he’s pleased you. His chest rises and falls, his muscles taut, hands still gripping your thighs like he can’t bear to let go.

You run your fingers lazily through his hair as you slowly recover.

“Good boy.” You praise, the words so beneath his status they make him shudder.

You tighten your grip on the belt, pulling with just enough force to make him obey.

“Stand up.” You direct, the belt working around his throat as he rises to his full height.

His muscles are tense, his, chest rising and falling beneath the pale glow of the moonlight. But your eyes wander lower, seeing the way his cock stands thick and hard between his legs. His impressive length is flushed, impossibly pink, leaking, a single bead of precum at the tip.

You press a hand to his hip, firm, controlling, guiding him backward. He walks as you direct, his body tight with need, his thighs tense, his cock swaying with every motion, thick and desperate for attention.

The backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed, and with a firm push, you make him sit.

His breath catches, his eyes flicking up to you, dark with anticipation, his fingers gripping the sheets as if bracing himself for what’s to come.

Slowly you release the belt, letting it fall over his back still looped around his throat, and you step away watching the way his chest rises and falls, the way his cock stands firmly aching in his lap.

His eyes never leave you, tracking your every movement with a hunger that borders on reverence as you pull the delicate straps of your silk dress slipping them from your shoulders, letting fabric fall at your feet.

A sharp breath leaves him seeing your nakedness, his fingers twitching against the sheets, his jaw clenching as his gaze darkens with raw lust, wanting to get up and take you right there.

You step forward, closing the space between you, climbing onto his lap, straddling him. His breath stutters, his hands instinctively finding your hips, his cock pressing against you, hot and rigid.

His lips part, but before he can speak, you lean in, pressing your lips to his in a slow, open-mouthed kiss.

He exhales a low, needy sound against your mouth, his hands gripping your hips like he wants to take control—but you don’t let him. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss dragging your lips over his, coaxing, demanding.

By the time you pull back, he’s a mess—his lips flushed and deep pink, slick and swollen from your kiss.

“You’ve been so good for me,” you whisper, your lips trailing lower, pressing warm kisses along his throat, feeling his pulse thrum beneath your mouth. “It’s only right that I give you what you need.”

His groan is deep, guttural, almost pained as you lower yourself onto him, taking him in inch by inch, feeling the stretch, the slow, maddening slide as he fills you completely.

His fingers dig into your hips, his breath coming out in a sharp, shattered exhale as he watches you, needing you—completely at your mercy.

You start slow, rolling your hips, feeling every inch of him inside you, dragging him deeper, making him feel it. His jaw tightens, a shuddering breath escaping him as his hands grip you tighter.

Every push, every roll of your hips sends another soft moan from him as the belt metal clicks skimming his back, a teasing reminder of who is in control.

“Fuck—” he groans, his voice wrecked, raw, his hands flexing on your waist like he’s holding himself back from taking over, from flipping you beneath him and losing himself completely.

You ride him harder, pushing deeper, your own pleasure mounting with every movement, every desperate noise you makes, every soft moan that falls from your lips bringing you both closer to the edge.

His body trembles beneath you, his breath coming in uneven gasps, his muscles straining as he tries to last, to keep from giving in too soon.

You feel it—the way his cock throbs inside you, the way his restraint starts to crumble.

And when your own release begins to peak, your body tensing, shuddering with pleasure, you gather the belt in your hand pulling it around his throat at its tightest.

His breath catches, his pupils blown wide at the sensation of being strangled.

All his wealth, his power, his influence— everything he is, everything he’s built, is all stripped away, reduced to this one fleeting moment as the world narrows in front of his eyes.

He’s helpless, undone, his body tense and trembling as you take him deeper, riding him harder to make him come.

Every roll of your hips sends sparks racing through you, your pleasure building, coiling tighter and tighter. You grind down on him, stretching yourself around his cock, reveling in the perfect friction.

As the tension inside you snaps a moan rips from your throat, sharp and raw, your thighs shaking as your body clenches around him feeling waves of pleasure break over you.

His body shudders, his hips barely thrusting, as he chokes seeing stars, his muscles tensing as his eyes roll up feeling the indescribable pleasure of being strangulated on his neck and his cock simultaneously.

You feel every throb, every desperate twitch, as his cock pulses deep inside of you, his come thick and hot, spreading through your core filling you completely until his body goes slack utterly spent.

You release the belt, and his lungs drag in a deep labored gasp, his chest heaving as reality slowly filters back in.

His pulse thrumming beneath your fingertips as you slide the belt from around his neck.

You gasp seeing the deep crimson mark blooming across his tan skin, stretching from one side of his throat to the other.

His chest rises and falls in uneven breaths, his muscles twitching from the aftershocks of what just happened to him.

The faintest sheen of perspiration clings to his him, trailing down to his toned abs, his kiss-bitten lips slightly parted as he gasps for breath.

But that mark— red, hot, and unmistakable— pulls at something deep inside of you.

Quickly you slide off his cock and climb from his lap scanning the room in search of something to soothe the lingering marks forming on his skin.

You press a few low recessed panels, fingers sweeping over the smooth, expensive finish, before one finally clicks open to reveal a hidden mini fridge.

Inside a glittering collection of top-shelf liquor and rare vintage bottles gleam under the soft, ambient lighting.

Without thinking, you reach in and grab the first thing your fingers close around— a chilled bottle of champagne, the label alone telling you it’s worth well over than a thousand dollars.

Returning to Austin, you gently guide him to lie flat against the bed, his broad, sweat-slicked chest rising and falling as he watches you through half-lidded eyes.

“You poor baby,” you coo, voice filled with affection as you bring the icy glass bottle to his neck.

The moment the chilled surface meets his overheated skin, he groans— low, rough,utterly wrecked.

His eyes flutter closed, his lashes dark against his flushed cheeks, his lips parting just enough to exhale a shaky breath.

“Oh you poor thing ,” you pout, stroking his damp hair back from his forehead before pressing a lingering kiss there.

His fingers twitch against the sheets before he blindly reaches for you, finding your hand and bringing it to his lips.

When his mouth kisses your knuckles, you slide your hand to his cheek.

The way he sighs, leaning into your touch, utterly devoted to you in this moment, sends a slow warmth spreading through your chest.

“You take such good care of me,” he breathes, his voice rasping and hoarse.

“I think—” He swallows, his throat bobbing beneath the cooling glass. “I think I’m in love with you.”

For a moment, you just stare at him—his face still rosy from exertion, his hair tousled from your fingers, his body helpless and spent.

He looks completely and utterly undone.

And yet he’s never looked more beautiful.

You set the champagne bottle aside and crawl back over him, straddling his waist. His hands immediately find your thighs, fingers kneading in as if grounding himself.

You lean down, lips grazing the mark on his throat, where the belt left its proof. His breath hitches, fingers twitching against your skin as you press a kiss to it.

“You think you’re in love with me?” you repeat, playing with the words, testing them as you tilt his chin so he can meet your gaze.

He nods, his blue eyes dark with something reverent. “Yeah. I am.” He confesses.

You smile as you lower your lips to his in a slow deep kiss, drinking in the taste of him— the lingering salt on his skin, the faintest remnants of wine on his tongue.

When you finally pull back, he’s staring at you like you’ve just rewritten the fabric of his universe.

“You’ll never forget this, will you?” you whisper as you stroke his jaw.

His smile is lazy, adoring. “Not in a million years.”

END 🛥️

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strawberriesandhotmen · 3 months ago

Text

Shameless

a/n: Hello my lovelies. This scenario has been hiding in the back rooms for some time, so I thought I’d go ahead and get it out there. It’s a little shorter, but a beauty if I do say so myself.

pairing: CEO!Billy Russo x fem!secretary!reader

CW +18 smut: swearing, tension, hickeys, oral (f!receiving)

word count: 2.5k

“Mr. Russo is not available right now, I’ll have him get back to you.” You sighed as you hung up the phone; that was their third call today. Couldn’t people take a hint? Your boss had been stressed beyond belief in recent days, and you, being the fantastic secretary you are, had been doing everything in your power to be sure he remained unbothered. This task had, however, proven harder than anticipated.

Your boss was a very attractive man; quite the definition of tall, dark, and handsome. Those dark eyes of his rendered you unquestioningly obedient, yet not to a fault. You never failed to set him straight if you thought he was acting too rashly, and he always managed to complain about it. It was a strange relationship between the two of you.

“I need to see you in my office.” The sudden buzz of the intercom startled you, but you ignored the racing of your heart to tend to Mr. Russo’s needs. After all, that is what you’re paid for. Upon standing, you smoothed out your black pencil skirt and fixed the collar of your white button up, the click-clacking of your stilettos echoing around the marbled office building. With a quick knock, you entered Mr. Russo’s office, closing the door behind you.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” His head laid in his hands, lifting to face you only when you spoke. A heavy sigh escaped him, and he gestured to the chair opposite his own. You sat, rather hesitant internally, crossing your ankles and waiting for instructions.

“I need you to remind me of my meeting schedule for the day.” ‘Please’ was a word you had never heard the man utter, so you had come to stop expecting it. You didn’t mind, really, it was understandable to a point.

“Only one meeting today, sir, with the president of that prospective merger you’ve been considering.” He muttered a string of curses under his breath, clearly not looking forward to that appointment.

“Time?” Your eyes flickered to your lap as the answer appeared in your head.

“Fifteen minutes, sir.” He closed his eyes, seeming to be swallowing back a scolding. You hadn’t actually done anything wrong; in fact, you had reminded him of the meeting just yesterday, but you should’ve anticipated his anxious forgetfulness. “Shall I let you know when he arrives?” He merely nodded, leaving the room in silence once again. You took this as your cue to leave, making your way back to your desk once again.

After letting Mr. Russo know that the president of that merger had arrived, you decided to take your lunch break. Since the couch you ate at was sat quite close to Mr. Russo’s office, you could practically hear their whole conversation (not that the legal jargon was making much sense). It was only when you noticed your boss’s tone turning more agitated that you decided to step in.

With a swift knock, you cracked open the door and stuck your head in.

“Mr. Russo, sir, you’re needed upstairs.” He wasn’t needed, of course, but you thought a break might be helpful. You sensed a flash of relief behind his agitation, but he maintained his previously apparent expression for the benefit and ignorance of the merger president.

“Excuse me, John.” He muttered lowly, sliding on his suit jacket as he made his way to the elevator. You decided to do something to…relieve his tension, and followed behind him. Mr. Russo furrowed his brow in confusion as the doors slid shut and he saw you standing beside him; yep, definitely caught him off guard with this one.

“Don’t you have work to do, Miss-” You shook your head, interrupting his assumption. It wasn’t entirely incorrect, but it was an assumption.

“I’m on break, sir.” You clarified politely, subtly batting your lashes as you peered up at him. Billy’s eyes flickered over your face, taking in your appearance. He couldn’t deny that he was attracted to you, you were beautiful. But he tried his best not to show it, keeping his facial expression stoic.

“Ah, I see.” He said simply, looking away from you and focusing on the elevator doors in front of them. The elevator began to move, the silence in the small space between you palpable. Billy remained painfully aware of your presence beside him.

“You seem stressed, sir.” You stepped closer, speaking in a quiet tone in an attempt to relax and soothe his anxiousness. It seemed to do the opposite, however, as Billy’s eyes widened slightly as you stepped closer, his gaze involuntarily sweeping down your figure. He took in the sight of your skirt and button up, the outfit hugging your curves perfectly. Despite his best efforts to remain indifferent, he couldn’t help the way his heart thumped slightly faster in his chest. He cleared his throat and looked away, his mind racing.

“I’m fine.” In his attempt to sound casual, his voice wavered, betraying the facade he displayed to everyone else.

“Are you sure, Mr. Russo?” You prodded gently, placing a manicured hand on his forearm. The feeling of your hand on his arm sent sparks through his body. Your touch was intoxicating, it was driving him insane. He took a deep breath, still avoiding eye contact. He tried to keep his voice steady, but it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“I said I’m fine.” He repeated, his tone a bit brusque. You pulled your hand away, momentarily questioning your original goal. The absence of your touch was like a jolt to his system. He missed the warmth of your hand on his arm. Despite his better judgement, he found himself wanting to pull you back towards him, to feel your touch again. But he resisted the urge, keeping his hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know.” You pointed out, sharply breaking the tense silence. Billy closed his eyes, sighing deeply. He knew you were right, he shouldn't be pretending. But he had always been good at putting up a front, and he had never been good at letting people in. He opened his eyes again and looked at you, his expression softer than before.

“I’m just…tired. I’ve been working non-stop and I feel like I’m about to snap.” He admitted softly. He leaned back against the wall of the elevator, letting his head fall back against the cool surface. He was exhausted. He had been pushing himself too hard, trying to juggle everything on his own. But he was so used to doing things alone, he didn’t know how to ask for help. Luckily, you could think of just the thing.

“Maybe you need to do something to...relax you.” You took a step toward him, fluttering your lashes again. You would get him this time. Billy raised an eyebrow at you, intrigued by your suggestion despite himself. He was well aware of the innuendo behind your words, and he surprisingly didn’t mind it.

“And what exactly do you suggest?” He asked, an uncharacteristic and playful smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I am on break, sir…” I began, matching his expression. Billy’s smirk grew as he looked you up and down, taking in the sight of you in your short, tight skirt. He was getting more and more tempted by the second. He knew he should resist, it would be highly unprofessional. But he found it increasingly difficult to care about that fact.

“I suppose you are…” He said, his voice lowering to a huskier tone. He stepped closer to you, closing the distance between you. He was so close that you could feel his minty breath on your face as he let his gaze wander over your figure, taking in every curve and contour. He brought a hand up to your hip, his thumb rubbing small circles against your waist. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“You know, the elevator is currently stuck between floors.” He whispered, reaching back to push the ‘stop’ button as his fingers traced the edge of your skirt. You merely hummed in response, enjoying this.

“How unfortunate for us.” Yeah, very unfortunate. Billy chuckled softly, the raspy sound sending a wave of heat straight to your core. He brought his lips to your neck, peppering light kisses along your skin.

“What ever shall we do to pass the time?” He teased, his hand slowly trailing up your thigh.

“It seems to me like you have a few ideas, Mr. Russo.” You tilted your head to the side, granting him better access as you continued the arbitrary banter. Billy smirked against your neck, kissing his way up to your jawline. He brought up his other hand, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas, darling.” He said with a low growl, his eyes darkening further with desire. Billy's gaze shifted even more as he took in the sight of you, your sultry look driving him wild. He couldn’t resist you any longer. With one swift move, he scooped you up into his arms and pressed you against the wall of the elevator, his lean body pinning you in place. He buried his face in your neck, his hands sliding up your thighs, pushing up your skirt and exposing more of your skin.

As his lips trailed kisses down your neck and collarbone. His hands continued to explore your body, roaming over every inch of you. He cupped your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pressed himself closer to you. He could feel your breath hitch, which only fueled his desire even more.

“God, you’re stunning.” He murmured against your skin, his hands moving up to unbutton your blouse. You hummed, biting your lip as you assisted him in the removal of your top, leaving you in a white lacy bra. Kissing his neck, you rolled your hips into his, his prominent bulge poking into your hip. A low growl escaped him at the feel of you grinding against him, his lips returning to your neck. He nipped and sucked at your skin, leaving a trail of marks in his wake. He moved his hands back to the hem of your skirt, gathering up the material in his hands and tugging it up higher.

“You’re a lovely fucking woman, darling.” He rasped out, his voice gruff. You let out a gasp as he kneeled before you, the look in his eyes feral as he tugged the skirt above your hips. Now, the wet puddle between your legs would be quite clear to him. He tsked once or twice, rather feignedly condescendingly, shaking his head.

“Oh, love, you’ve ruined these already. They’ll have to go.” He didn’t wait for a response before virtually ripping off your poor panties, tossing them behind him somewhere. Cursing under his breath, he tugged your legs apart and began placing wet kisses along your inner thighs. You let out a deep sigh of contentment, threading your fingers through his hair and grasping onto it for stability. Without another word, Billy brought his mouth to your dripping center, his lips gently placing a kiss there. A low, appreciative moan left his lips before he looked back up at you.

“Fuck, princess, you taste divine.” He breathed against your throbbing pussy, his tongue slipping out to lick a long stripe up through your folds. A whimper of his name left your lips at the sensation, and your hold on his hair tightened. A strand of his perfectly gelled locks had fallen over his forehead, making him look impossibly more heavenly.

He groaned against you as the taste of you hit his tongue, his head moving back and forth as he tried to get more of you. His hands gripped tighter at your hips, holding you firmly in place as his tongue worked to bring you ever closer to that edge, that high. You were almost to the point of dripping onto the floor, which would be quite embarrassing, but you found yourself not caring in the slightest as Billy continued to work you over with his expert tongue.

He took his time with you, not rushing in his actions. He wanted to take all the time in the world to savor you as best he could, his tongue and lips working to memorize every sensitive spot, figuring out what made you gasp and what made you moan. His hands gripped and caressed every inch of bare skin he could reach as his tongue fucked you mercilessly, shamelessly. A rather desperate-sounding groan left his lips, vibrating against your quivering folds as you felt another drop of cum leak out of your hole.

“Billy, m’close.” You moaned, fighting to keep your knees from buckling as the knot in your stomach grew with each lap of his tongue. The lewd sounds of Billy making out with your sopping cunt filled the small, confined space, drawing you that much closer to the edge. He didn’t even bother to respond with words, merely speeding up his actions, displaying how desperate he was to have your cum fill his mouth. His nose bumped your clit every so often, and when you decided you wanted more, you let your own hand travel downward to place small circles over the swollen bud. When Billy noticed this, he drew your hand away and replaced it with his own, demonstrating just how much better he was at this than you. You couldn’t contain your moans now, whimpering and gasping incessantly as you came to your peak.

“B-Billy, m’cumming, m’cumming…” You cried out, although you were sure he knew with the way his ministrations increased in urgency. He groaned lowly as your cum poured out of you, grasping your thighs tightly to keep you supported. Lapping up every last drop of your arousal, he gingerly worked you through your high, standing only when your breath slowed.

“You did so well f’me, princess.” He mumbled against your neck, placing a kiss or two down the side. “So fuckin’ pretty when you come.” You breathed deeply as you wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling softly as you looked into his eyes appreciatively.

“That was quite shameless of you, you know that?” You smirked as you teased him, absently dragging your nails along the nape of his neck. He snorted out an amused chuckle, shaking his head before pressing a kiss to your temple.“

What can I say? You bring out the worst in me.”

#fem!reader #smut #billy russo #billy russo x reader #ben barnes #ceo #ceo x reader #ben barnes x reader #secretary #ceo x secretary

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spades4cards · 4 months ago

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

The hours passed with its all-consuming heaps of work, but all I could think about was my date with y/n. All I could ever think about in any situation was y/n. And when y/n left, all I could think about was how she would look like in the dress I sent for her. It was a navy blue slitted halter dress, which I had my stylist personally order from Chanel to make it one-of-a-kind. Would she even wear the dress?

"Mr. Harper," she looked... like a goddess.

The dark silk spread over her skin like a river, and the dress accentuated all of her features, making her look too beautiful for this earth—too beautiful for anyone to see. I owned many great paintings worth millions of dollars, but a price couldn't be placed on the piece of art she was.

Only I should be able to see her, no one else.

"I don't think you should call me that considering I'm taking you out."

"Christian, then," she hesitated calling me by my first name.

It's okay, she'll get used to it soon.

"You look stunning."

She blushed, "You don't look so bad yourself."

The conversation was so cliché, but I wouldn't want it any other way. I walked up to her and offered my arm which she took.

"We're going from the back, right? No one will see us?" She asked, her grip on my arm instinctively tightening.

I could see her worry from a mile away.

"No one will see us," I assured her.

And with that, we left.

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

The setting was so cliché, if you told me that my boss and I transmigrated into a K-drama, I would've 100% believed you. What the hell was I thinking earlier, blushing like a schoolgirl and saying 'You don't look so bad yourself' to my fucking boss?! Why did I even come here, again? I paused for a moment... oh right, the food.

Or because you crave affection from your boss, a voice in my head sang.

I ignored it and swirled the wine in my glass, watching as it reached up the glass with its red liquid hands before pouring down in a graceful swoop. I betrayed him, and now I accepted his date at one of the fanciest restaurants I've ever seen.

"Y/n," Christian's smooth, inky voice drew me back to reality.

Look at me, paying attention to my wine glass instead of my mouth-watering, hot, sexy, rich date... and my boss.

"Mr. Har- I mean Christian. Sorry for being so distracted, it's just that..." I'm the traitor.

"It's just that wha-"

"Hello. Welcome to The Monarch. What can I get for you both?"

That waitress must've been sent by the gods to save me from Christian's question. I was a terrible liar, and he could've easily saw through me.

Before he could ask his question again, I said, "This restaurant is, er, very nice..." I'm pathetic.

He clearly noticed my attempts to block his question because he arched a brow before speaking, "It is 'er, very nice.'"

I blushed at his mocking, "You know I can talk better when in a work environment."

"And you lose your wit and fire when you're on a date?" Oh, that bitch.

"I don't lose it, but I was manipulated into going on this date," I said playfully with a smug grin.

"Manipulated? I remember bringing up how good the food was and you suddenly accepting," he bit back, watching smugly as pink started rising in my cheeks as I lost my grin.

I scoffed, "You brought up how nice the restaurant is, not how good the food is. What if I wanted to look at it from an architectural view?"

"It was implied."

We continued our playful banter until the food came (when I tried my best not to scarf down the delicious pasta and utterly failed) before we were suggested desserts by the waiter.

"So, what do you want for dessert? She said the crème brûlée was good."

"I don't like desserts or anything sweet, for that matter," my jaw dropped.

"Wait, wait, wait. What? What about chocolate or baklava or..." I recall the time I bought him a croissant, "Do you like croissants?"

His eyes flickered with amusement, "Nope. Nothing sweet, but I can tolerate some croissants."

My tongue danced in my mouth with the urge to ask if he liked the croissant I bought for him, but the question died on my tongue. The croissant I bought him was sweet, so of course he wouldn't like it. A small wave of disappointment washed over me.

"I tolerated your croissant, too," can he read my mind?

"Oh. that's good," a soft blush rose to my ears.

He stared at me, and I stared back, but it wasn't awkward. We dug into each other's eyes, searching for our memories, the fragile pieces that come together inextricably to make us us: our pure substance.

Then, the waitress came back and asked what we wanted for dessert, and the fragile string, woven intricately into that moment snapped as suddenly as it came.

"A crème brûlée for my lady, and one croissant for me." My lady.

The night wore on; casual talks, occasional laughs... and then, goodbye. We slowly walked out of the restaurant, stalling our time for as long as we could.

"This is where we part ways... heh." Please tell me to stay.

But he didn't tell me to stay, he didn't speak at all. I turned to leave, daydreaming about my bed but missing a certain musky scent lingering around me. Then, I felt a large, warm hand engulf my wrist. It was tentative, a carefully spoken thought, an unsure step to a new path, a ray of sunlight shyly peeking into a dark room. I turned around and gazed at those whiskey eyes bathed in the dim glow of the moon, those eyes I wanted to drink up every single goddamn time I saw them.

"Yes?" It was practically a gunshot in the tense silence.

𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧

My date with y/n was good, great, too great; her presence was my drug, her body my oasis in a dry desert, her voice a medicine to all my wounds, so, yes, I didn't want the date to fucking end and yes, I did grab her wrist with nothing to say.

"Let me drop you home." Good excuse.

Her mouth did an adorable twitch before forming a small, warm smile, "Yes, please."

I led her to the sleek, black Rolls Royce glinting in the moonlight looking like a jaguar about to strike. I could tell she was impressed when we stepped inside; her hands idly roaming the plush seats and the luxurious features, her eyes shining with awe. God, she was so cute like this.

"Oh my god, it has massaging chairs!" She finally acknowledged me amid her new-found amazement for my car.

I looked at her and smirked as she stared at the moving seats massaging her legs, not being able to suppress a small chuckle. Focus on the road, I internally scolded myself, but I could feel her gaze burning into my side profile.

The ride eventually ended, the luxurious vehicle coming to a halt outside of The Mirage.

"Are you going inside?" Sometimes I forget we live in the same building.

Technically, I was supposed to go to a club opening, but... I looked at those lethal, pleading doe eyes. Fuck it.

"No, I'm going inside. I'll walk you to your apartment."

When I drove her here, she had her amazement from the car as an excuse to not talk to me, now she didn't have one. It was tense, our relationship as two people from a good first date slowly shifting back to our regular CEO-secretary dynamic. We got out of the elevator and walked to apartment 111, careful not to look in each other's direction. No one was in the hall.

No one was in the hall.

She grabbed her keys from her bag and looked up at me. She was going to say goodbye, but whatever she saw in my eyes made her swallow her words. I put my arm above her head, trapping her against the door. Slowly, like two canyons conjoining after years of being eroded, our lips met, and then it was over.

Our hands were all over each other as our tongues made a frenzied, hot dance. Her hands roamed my chest, mine roughly handling her hips. Then I remembered our last encounter had also ended in mindless lust.

I removed my body from hers. I wasn't going to reduce her to that.

She looked for an answer in my eyes, but I turned and walked away, my words tangling up into everything I wasn't supposed to say.

My steps slowly lost relevance as they walked away from her, along with our whole encounter.

Two steps forward, a marathon back.

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buckyalpine · 1 year ago

Text

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering.

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard.

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting.

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?”

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off.

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark.

Which was a mess in itself.

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour.

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now.

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more.

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair.

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you.

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n”

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks.

“Y/n”

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself.

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues.

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day.

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week.

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault.

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning.

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness.

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out.

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze.

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you”

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips.

“God, I missed this” He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss”

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?”

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch.

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips.

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off.

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection.

“Please what, sweets”

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out.

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds.

“Sir, pleasee”

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing.

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream”

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait.

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me”

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel.

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you.

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again.

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls.

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings.

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed.

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand.

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl”

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gothghostiie · 9 days ago

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I'm having nasty thoughts about CEO!Graves and secretary!reader

cw: anal, hole inspection, medical play if you squint, deepthroat, toys, spanking, bondage, pussy spanking, crying, cockwarming, power play, implied age gap, afab!fem!reader

CEO!Graves who's moulded his secretary to be a perfect little assistant for himself. some would say he's abusing his power, some would say he's using you. but he keeps you his dirty little secret, no one has to know what he's doing with you, what he's teaching you.

no one has to know that, every morning before work, he has you sit on his desk and lift up your short, black skirt, pull your lacey panties aside and let him inspect your holes. gently pushing the cold metal speculum into your cunt, spreading it open to make sure every part of you is up to what he expects of you.

no one has to know he spends each morning tying a delicate shibari harness around your torso, caressing each inch of your skin, making sure you're comfortable while having a constant reminder of him all around you.

no one has to know that each day, right at 11:30am, he bends you over his lap, pulls up your skirt and gives you a maintenance spanking, to make sure you remember who's in charge, to keep you in line.

no one has to know he's teaching you how to take his cock all the way down your throat, inch by inch until you stop struggling, until you stop gagging; until you can kneel under his desk with his cock down your throat for hours on end.

no one has to know how he'll have you bouncing on his cock after a stressful meeting, getting his aggression and anger out, cussing quietly about the stupid people in the industry, fingers digging into the fat of your hip.

no one has to know that he has you wearing a butt plug at all times, making it impossible to walk or sit without being reminded of his presence, of what he's doing to you.

no one has to know how he has you sit in his lap and cockwarm him while he's on the phone with some client, running a gentle hand through your hair as you whimper.

no one has to know that he spanks your poor pussy when you make a mistake, turning it into a puffy, swollen mess, crocodile tears streaming down your face and leaving mascara streaks down your cheeks.

no one has to know that the necklace you wear is your day collar, that the little pendant on it has his initials engraved on the back of it.

no one has to know.

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stanart4clearskin · 1 month ago

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i am a firm believer that ceo!art donaldson gets so turned on whenever you tell him to do something. the first time it happened was when you were stressing over a report and kind of snapped at him to get the documents that you needed. in that instant he felt at the blood in his body rush towards his groin and he stood at your door, frozen in place. you had given him the nastiest glare and asked him what he was still doing, standing there in your office. he tripped over his own feet as he rushed back to his own office to get you the documents that you needed. once those were in your hands, he was rushing to his private bathroom to squeeze one out.

ever since you found out about this kink of his, you'd taken great pride in bossing art around. whenever you're at home and ask art to get you something, you make him crawl over to you with the object in his mouth like a dog. art always gets hard when he does this and he really can't help it. he's such a sucker for being put in his place because at work he's always the one in charge.

#challengers #art donaldson #mike faist #art donaldson x you #art donalson x reader #ceo!art donaldson #ceo!art donaldson x reader #ceo!art donaldson x secretary!reader #secretary!reader

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aprilblossomgirl · 2 months ago

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LOVE SCOUT (2025)

#love scout #kdrama #lovescoutedit #kdramaedit #asiandramaedit #*drama set #*gifs #april.gif #kang ji yun x yoo eun ho #han ji min #lee joon hyuk #besides thamepo i am currently obsessed with this kdrama <3 #i love it when dramas use the best of the set to highlight the characters of their leads #i enjoy the office romance in this one and how every details clearly show the difference between miss ceo and mr secretary #and it drives me craaaaazzzyy

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mattluvr · 4 months ago

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CEO!matt, a concept.

💸 what if. . . matt sturniolo was CEO of a company?

at the grand old age of 21, matt sturniolo is the world’s youngest CEO, having inherited his father’s finance company in light of his untimely retirement.

he doesn’t complain; matt has a team of seniors to make his decisions for him, the only thing he insists on chipping in on every year being the annual christmas party. which, naturally, is infamous. it’s what most of the company’s budget gets blown on after all.

in his third year as the owner of sturniolo finances, income in the billions as the company thrived, matt threw the biggest, loudest, craziest christmas party of what he was sure was history, the entire floor of a fancy hotel packed with employees.

and some stragglers. including you.

your brother had dragged you along, overly excited about the first sturniolo finances christmas party of his employment, and had swiftly got drunk and left you to stand like a lemon by the drinks table. which is where matt found you, words slurring from one too many tequila shots, appointing you his newest secretary. one of the only decisions he’s made for the company.

and today is the day you start your new role, which matt obviously can’t remember offering you, but lets you sit at the desk outside his office, head still pounding from the party over a week ago.

“are you sure i gave you this job?” he mutters, running a hand over his face. you nod, tucking a loose strand of your bun behind your ear, hoping you’re still retaining the sophisticated look you tried to construct this morning when getting ready.

“mhm. at that party.”

“yeah, but i did a lot of things at that party.” matt says with a grimace. “like swing from a chandelier…”

you laugh, reminded of the last image you saw before you left the hotel, supporting a tipsy brother on your hip, matt dangling from the structure above you with one arm, hair messy and shirt loose. “that was pretty funny. and impressive.”

“thank you. but not the point.” he frowns, folding his arms, trying to act serious. “i don’t even think i’ve given you any paperwork to fill out. shit, i’ve not even interviewed you.”

“well, you’re the CEO, aren’t you? you can just interview me now.”

matt furrows his brows again, eyes darting to his office behind him and eventually gives in, opening the door for you with a shrug. he often doesn’t interact with any of the people he employs, the whole process too mindnumbingly boring for him, but is now starting to realise why drunk him even offered you a job position in the first place.

you’re fucking unreal, mini skirt a tad too short, shirt just slightly too low cut, and matt is drinking it all in. professionally. of course. he clears his throat, dragging his eyes back to your face with a soft blush as he gestures to the empty room. “take a seat.”

you smirk at him over your shoulder, sitting down heavily in the armchair facing matt’s desk, your skirt riding up as you cross your legs, thighs on display. matt rolls his neck; you’re trying to kill him, he swears. he follows you over nevertheless, sitting opposite and offering you a polite smile.

when your dimple shows in reply, matt doesn’t even think about the interview. “yeah, i don’t know why i did all that. you’re hired.”

“but…?”

matt holds out a hand. he knows this is a bad decision, hiring based off of physical attraction only, but that’s the last thing on his mind. he just wants you out before he blows a load in his underwear, semi poking him each time he shifts.

“you can start tomorrow morning, 8am. i’ll email the paperwork down to reception.”

shocked, you slowly stand up, and matt leans forwards, concealing a groan into his hand. “uh, well, thanks. i’ll… see you tomorrow.”

“mhm.” matt nods, grinning weakly. “yep, tomorrow.”

and then you’re gone, leaving matt alone with his thoughts. fuck. hiring you? he’s screwed.

taglist. . . ( @mattslolita, @aelinslegend, @chrissturniolossidehoe, @mattbrainrot, @conspiracy-ash, @emely9274 ) is open!

#sturniolo triplets #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #wait i need him bad #matt sturniolo x reader #secretary!reader #CEO!matt by mattluvr

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tocinoandkamatis · 6 months ago

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can you really blame me?

your sat in your office chair, hunched over the same paperwork again and again until someone had offered you a box of chocolates.

it was your boss- your oh so incredibly hot boss. you dont know why but youve always had a thing for him.

so you thank him- taking the chocolate in your hands and popping it in your mouth.

only for a few minutes later, your left feeling uneasy, hot and bothered.. uncomfortably shifting in your seat and biting your lip. sighing, you pick up your mirror and- well your flushed. pink cheeks and lips with neediness written all over your face. your mind wanders- why? what did i do? i was only ever focused on the paperwork- and then it snapped the chocolate.

you stare at the trashcan and dig out the cover plastic of the small treat, you read it and- 'aphrodisiac'...there imprinted with heart dots for the i right on the back of the wrapper.

and to make sure.. you ask your boss.

and thats when it happens. your lying on his desk with your top buttons undone and your trousers slung over your heels. his big fat cock bullying into your cervix in an excruciating pace. you dont really know whats gotten to this- really, you dont. you just knocked on his office to ask about something and the next second you sat on his desk, his greedy hands trying to tug off your clothes as fast as he can.

your crying and moaning clenching down on him, milking him completely dry. his hand cover your face as an attempt to shush you up- not that he doesnt want you to scream his name. its just that his grandfather is outside right now, talking business with other important men.

but my god he cant stop. hes completely drunk in pleasure- maybe due to the aphrodisiac? but you may find he never ate that chocolate and this event is only because of his need for you.

so your clawing at his back, arching yours as he thrust into you as deep as he could. youve came- what, two times? your sure this would be your fourth. your shaking and moaning but he doesnt stop.

"you like that sweetheart? hm? you like the way im fucking ya hard?"

he grunts as he burries his nose into your neck. you cant do anything but let out a string of whines and whimpers. nodding frantically as his movements get sloppy and uncoordinated, a shrill sign of his impending release. a few things had fallen off the desk but at this point, none of you cared.

"fuck- so tight and warm, just 'f me"

he groans, his small noises laced with a small whine and high pitched whimper as he comes. his hot sead spilling inside of you while your eyes roll to the back of your head.

and finally, he manages to catch his breath and pull out.

"such a pretty little pussy..."

he sighs and presses a soft kiss on your forehead.

but your left wondering 'what the fuck just happened and what the fuck is happening?' because hes now in a meeting- pointing out the proposal of his company and back to his serious and cold character.

seriously? did he not just wreck me? you wonder how strong this guy is because- well your still sensitive and shaking slightly and he just looked like he just had cake and coffee at his favourite restaurant.

my thoughts are occupied on the past events though... but then again can you really blame me?

kuroo, geto, osamu, aizawa, kyoya ootori, kenma, nanami

#ceo #smut #office #kyoya ootori #kuroo tetsurou #geto suguru #aizawa shouta #hq atsumu #new blog #haikyuu #ouran high school host club #mha #secretary #x you smut #kozume kenma #nanami kento

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kathaelipwse · 1 month ago

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Stuck With You

Masterlist

☘︎ Next chapter>>>

Pairing: CEO!J.Yunho x Secretary!Reader

Trope: Grumpy x Sunshine

Warnings: Smau, Fluff, grumpy yunho, bickering

Word count: 1.1k

Author's note: Hie lovies! I hope y'll are fine! Also! This will be a series of 12 chapters!

Chapter 1: The Long Road

The storm warnings had come in earlier that morning—dark clouds brewing over Seoul, thick enough to make the city feel like it was sinking under the weight of the sky. Rain poured, slamming against windows and turning the streets into rivers. A flight to Ulsan was supposed to be easy—a quick trip. But as the weather worsened, the airline had announced it: all flights canceled.

And so, here y'll are, trapped in a car, traveling the four-hour route to Ulsan. Yunho, the CEO of one of the biggest companies in Korea, had insisted on driving. The decision made no sense to you, his secretary who had to accompany him for an event in Ulsan. As time passed by, Yunho had been… Yunho. Grumpy, moody, irritated that something so trivial as weather had ruined his perfectly planned day.

“Great,” Yunho muttered under his breath, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. “Four hours. Wasted.”

The traffic on the highway was crawling. The rain didn’t help, and the skies had darkened even further, making the world outside seem claustrophobic. The headlights of other cars smeared through the fog, nothing more than vague shadows in the rain. The hum of the engine and the soft rustling of the wipers were the only sounds filling the car.

You shifted in the passenger seat, glancing over at Yunho, trying to figure out how to break the suffocating silence. They had been quiet for a while now, both of y'll lost in your own thoughts.

“You know,” you started, voice light and casual, “the view looks kind of nice in a weird, stormy way.”

Yunho didn’t even look at you. He just sighed, his eyes locked on the road. “If you think the view is nice, you must be insane.”

You smiled a little, trying not to let his mood drag them down. “You don’t think it’s a little bit peaceful? All this rain? It’s kind of… soothing.”

He didn’t respond, and for a moment, the only sound was the soft buzz of the car's engine.

“You sure you don’t want to stop for a coffee or something? Get a break?” you asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Yunho’s grip on the steering wheel tightened. “I don’t need a break. We’re already behind schedule as it is.”

You let out a small sigh, knowing this was going nowhere. “We’re stuck in traffic, sir. We’re gonna be late no matter what.”

Yunho shot you a quick glare. “I’m aware of that.” His voice was tight, like every word was squeezed out through clenched teeth.

You turned towards the window. “Well, there’s no point in getting worked up about it.”

Yunho's eyes flicked over to you for a split second, his jaw clenching. “It’s not about the traffic. It’s about the time. Time is money. And I hate wasting it.”

You rolled their eyes, but Yunho wasn’t looking. “You’re really going to keep going on about the time? You do realize we’re not getting to Ulsan any faster by complaining about it, right?”

Yunho’s lips curled into a tight smirk, though there was no humor in it. “It’s cute that you think that.”

You blinked, trying not to let the sarcasm get under their skin. “Look, it’s not my fault your flight got canceled. You’re the one who insisted on driving instead of canceling the plans with a solid excuse of The Storm.”

“Because the event is important for the company Ms. L/n, you are aware of it,” Yunho said, his voice flat.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. “I think this is a waste of time,” you muttered. “You’re driving, we’re stuck in traffic, and we’re still hours away from Ulsan. And, oh—did I mention we’re already running late?”

Yunho hissed under his breath, clearly annoyed at your remark. “If you’re going to keep complaining, I’ll turn this car around and drive you straight back to Seoul. Or I will leave you here itself. How’s that sound?”

You snapped your head toward him. “That’s not even funny.”

A heavy silence filled the car, thick with the tension of frustration and annoyance. The rain hammered against the roof, and the low growl of the engine was the only sound breaking the quiet.

“Alright,” Yunho said, finally breaking the silence. “I’ll take a shortcut. It’ll save us time.”

You turned your head sharply. “A shortcut? Really? You’ve got to be kidding.”

Yunho’s eyes flicked to the GPS on the dashboard. “The map says it’ll save us at least 20 minutes.”

You squinted at the screen. The route looked different from the one y'll had been following. It led into a narrow road, almost like it wasn’t even part of the main highway.

“Sir, that doesn’t look like a shortcut,” you said, voice laced with doubt. “That road looks like it’s going to take us to the middle of nowhere.”

He shot you a look. “It’s a shortcut. Trust the map.”

“Trust the map? This thing’s barely working,” you argued, raising an eyebrow. “You sure you don’t just want to get lost?”

Yunho’s grip on the wheel tightened. “I’m not getting lost. We’ll get there faster. Just sit back and relax.”

But as y'll veered off onto the new route, the road seemed to narrow, the trees growing thicker, the air heavier. The headlights barely cut through the rain anymore, and the soft hum of the wipers felt like the only thing keeping y'll grounded in reality.

“This is getting weird, Sir,” you said, your voice now a little more tense. “This doesn’t feel like a shortcut. We’re not even on the map anymore.”

Yunho didn’t respond. His eyes stayed fixed on the road ahead. The GPS flickered for a moment, then a “Route recalculating…” message appeared.

“What the hell?” you muttered, glancing over at the screen. “It’s—”

The map froze, then went blank.

“Sir, what the hell is happening? Where are we?” Your voice was starting to edge into panic. “This isn’t on any map.”

Yunho’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel. “I don’t know. The signal’s gone. This damn road is cutting us off.” His voice was tight, now showing hints of irritation. “We’re going to have to turn back.”

But when you looked back, the road behind y'll was gone. It was as if it had never existed, swallowed by the night shadows, trees blocking the way they came.

“What the hell?” you said again, voice shaky. “There’s nothing back there. We can’t even—”

Yunho slammed his fist on the dashboard in frustration. “Great. Just great.” He gritted his teeth. “We’re stuck.”

You looked out the window, the rain intensifying with every passing second. There was no sign of a road, no lights, no houses, nothing but darkness and the relentless storm.

“Sir,”you said softly, their voice almost drowned out by the downpour, “what do we do now?”

Yunho didn’t answer right away. His eyes flicked from the road to the blank GPS screen, then back to the endless dark ahead. His grip tightened even more on the wheel.

“I don’t know.” His voice was low, barely audible over the rain. “We’re lost.”

.....To Be Continued

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