#waiting on an email before i finish something for a client
Note
Hell yeah you’re a furry artist now that’s where the real moneys at
If I was a furry artist do you think I'd still be working my 8 to 4 job
#ask#anon#im technically working rn#waiting on an email before i finish something for a client#but yeah#wish i had those furry art skills#i don't think you can count my wolf jason as a furry#hes more a cat boy lets be real
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Bakugou would listen to you rant all about work. Even though he’s the one out on the streets with more exciting stories to tell, one of his favorite things is to hear you talk about your own work. He follows and nods along with whatever work story you have for him for the day, always attentive but never telling you what you should do to handle it (as he had learned from a prior relationship).
“I can tell he fuckin’ hates me, you know?” You continue on about your current work events as you sit on the countertop and watch Bakugou cut vegetables, “He keeps on bringing up my old manager as if she has anything to do with it now. Like, no motherfucker! You answer to me now and I’m saying pay your stupid invoice!”
The vegetables for dinner are set aside while the oven is still preheating. Two pieces of pork chop are taken from the fridge and is set aside on a clean plate as Bakugou looks for spices to rub into the meat. “So what happened baby? Did he pay? Y’said you were dealing with this for almost two weeks.” He asks you, genuinely curious if your annoying client is actually complying with you. The thought in his head is wondering how you handled it.
“I have to read you this email that I wrote. I gotta say the professional ways of dissing someone in email is something I finally understand now.” You laugh as you pull up your work email on your phone. Word for word you read out your well thought out response to your difficult client, not backing down and upholding work policy as you are expected to. Bakugou had never really bothered with any type of skill of being professional through communication in his job; it’s what his team is for while he gets the really privilege to cuss as he pleases and have his team handle it for the public. “Here is how I signed off, I think it’s probably my most eloquent and business-like ‘fuck you’ I’ve written so far.”
You clear your throat first before reading aloud, “‘I hope that the explanations of how to navigate your account has cleared up any confusion you may have and that you are able to move forward in compliance with our company policy, if you have any further questions then please let me know.’ God I know he’s going to hate me as soon as he reads it!”
He chuckles, happy that you know how to stand your ground in such a manner that Bakugou knows he struggles in. “You tell him, baby.”
“I fucking did Katsuki!” You boast with a proud little smile as you hop off the countertop and go to his side as he heats oil in a pan. “Sorry, I’ve been going on about this annoying client for a while. I wanna hear about your work today Tsuki.”
Bakugou shakes his head though and urges you to talk about what else happened at your work. The meat sizzles as he presses it into the pan, crackling and sizzling in a way that’s reminiscent of his quirk but to a much lower degree. The oven beeps to indicate that preheating is finished and you move to put all the vegetables into the glass pan and stick it in for him, already setting a timer before he can even ask. “What about that other guy? The one who keeps on saying that he’s getting investors so he wants to make you wait a little longer?” He asks you when he recalls another client you complained of a few days ago.
You excitedly pop off about your work again, unknowing how you calm Bakugou down with your own work stories. Your series of responsibilities that he wouldn’t know the first clue how to handle are interesting to him to hear how you handle yourself. It’s simple compared to what he does but in no way is it easy either. To see you struggle sometimes with your own career wasn’t easy for him but you were also strong enough to handle it all the same.
And he liked to think that he made it easy for you to handle because he wanted to hear anything and everything about your job that’s so different from his. “Tell me about the parking permits, did that get solved yet?” He asks as he starts to set food on the plates.
“No! I’m on week three of dealing with it and it’s ridiculous! I sent everything in so early and they deal with it so late!!”
Bakugou listens with a happy heart to hear you talk, never wanting you to apologize over the things that frustrate you. And by the end of your rants, even he feels a little lighter as he readies to get in bed with you.
And the next day as he’s just about to enter a meeting in his agency, Bakugou gets a text from you.
[1:57 pm] omg i need to tell you what this mofo emailed me when we’re home
He looks forward to it, letting a little smile come onto his face. He can see you all cute and puffed up and mad, and he can’t wait to hear about it.
[1:58 pm] can’t wait baby. love you.
You text him back within seconds.
[1:58 pm] love you!!!
Bakugou can’t wait to be home and listen to you.
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━☆ first kiss with seventeen: mingyu
♡ first kiss with seventeen ♡ masterlist ♡
pairing: mingyu x reader
warnings: kissing, fluff
word count: 900
you and mingyu have been dating for a while now. it’s comfortable, warm, and just a happy wholesome relationship. mingyu doesn’t mind taking things slow with you and he’s been more than happy to take things slowly with you since it was your first relationship. but that doesn’t mean that mingyu hasn’t been thinking of wanting to kiss you. ever since you told him that he’ll be your first kiss, he hasn’t stopped thinking about it.
your lingering glances at his lips haven’t gone unnoticed by him and he’s starting to think he should maybe initiate a kiss. mingyu is determined to make your first kiss memorable and give you all the butterflies. so that’s what he does -except it doesn’t seem to go as planned.
the first attempt, mingyu dropped you off at your apartment and you both lingered out at the door, not quite ready to say goodbye yet. mingyu takes this as a sign to maybe kiss you and he slowly leans in. your heart is beating a million miles an hour as your eyes close but just then the door opens. “you’re back! i thought i heard you outside”, your sibling says and you almost trip and fall but luckily mingyu catches you as you smile at your sibling while your eyes throw daggers at them for ruining your moment with mingyu. mingyu just smiles back at your sibling and talks to them before giving you a small peck on the cheek before he’s parting ways with you. you watch him leave, dejected. it’s okay, you thought. i’m sure we’ll get another chance to kiss.
the second attempt, you were interrupted by jeonghan who came back to mingyu’s shared apartment early. he caught you both just before you kissed and almost thought of leaving but you told him it was okay and that you were leaving anyway. you were too nervous and shy to initiate a kiss again. you go home that night thinking about the moment. oh how you wanted to kiss mingyu so bad.
the third and fourth attempts don’t go as planned as well and you’re starting to think the world is conspiring against you and mingyu because every time you both try to kiss, something or someone always ended up interrupting you both. and poor mingyu, he's having a life crisis as well. why can’t he seem to kiss you? maybe i just have bad timing? mingyu thought. but this just made mingyu even more determined. he was going to kiss you and make it the best kiss ever.
it’s evening and you’re back home and it’s just you and mingyu. your sibling who was visiting you left last week, so you finally have the place to yourself again. you watch as mingyu leans against the doorframe as he asks you what you want to eat for dinner.
“one second”, you say, as you finish typing out an email and by the time you look back, mingyu is gone, back in the kitchen because he’d left something on the stove. you make your way toward the kitchen and find mingyu.
“gyu”, you say and he looks at you, turning around and maybe it was the way you were dressed up or the way the sunlight reflected onto your skin, making you glow. he had the sudden desire and urge to kiss you. he gulped, nervous. he really didn’t want to mess this up one more time. mingyu pulls you closer to him and brushes your hair behind your ear as he looks at you with the most loving eyes. you Iean into his touch and he leans in too, your eyes closing, anticipation bubbling in your stomach. just then your phone rings, making you both pull away.
“sorry i’ll just get my phone, it’s probably my client”, you say but mingyu doesn’t let you go. he wasn’t going to let anything ruin this moment anymore. “baby”, he says, his hand going up to cup your cheek. “the phone can wait, but your lips can’t”, he tells and leans in, pressing his lips softly against yours. whatever you were going to say melts into nothing when mingyu kisses you, finally.
your eyes flutter close and you feel giddy at the feeling of his lips on yours. he kisses you softly and sweetly. he kisses you like he’s been yearning for this; he kisses you with a soft passion as he moves his lips against yours. your hand grips the collar of his shirt as you kiss his back. he kisses you with passion and determination and sweet longing. mingyu pulls away and looks at you and notices your flushed face as you realize that you finally kissed him. you both really kissed.
“baby?”, he asks and he’s answered with a shy smile from you.
“that was…”, but you don’t get to complete your sentence as your phone rings again. he'd just kiss you again, kissing you softly and sweetly as your phone would goes unanswered. (don't worry it wasn't anyone important).
when he pulls away you're breathless, your chest rising and falling as you look up at him, your lips slightly parted and your cheeks heating up. "gyu", you mumble softly. you were still giddy from the kiss and he was holding you and looking at you so sweetly you couldn't take it anymore. you bury your face in his chest, the shyness overtaking you and he chuckles. "baby", he cooes sweetly. you lift your head and peer up at him.
"can i um get another one", you ask softly, nervous. "another what?", he asks, fully knowing the answer but wanting to hear the words from you. "you knoww", you tell, drawing the words and poking his chest. "a kiss", you finally mumble. "you're getting all the kisses you want", he replies, happy before capturing your lips again.
taglist: @daisycheols @naaaaafla @joshuaahong @slytherinshua @fairyhaos @rubywonu @wheeboo @icyminghao @kyeomyun @minhui896 @gam3bo1z @graybaeismytae @musingsofananxiouspotato @thehao8 @cheiyoma @keiyx @novalpha @fallingforshua29 @txtandroll @nishloves @kokoiinuts @writingsbybirdie @hauvits @jennimisu @dahliatopia @prpldahy @ryujineebae @onedumbho3 @weird-bookworm @yo-wassup-boi @idubiluv @horanghae-hoshi @bangchansbae @sorrylola @lustfulseonghwa
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#tmi this was the first one i wrote in the first kiss series#i love this one so much probably my second fav after wonwoos. we love clumsy cute gyu#first kiss with seventeen by skye!#skye's writing#k-labels#seventeen imagines#seventeen fluff#seventeen scenarios#seventeen soft hours#seventeen drabbles#seventeen x reader#svt imagines#svt fluff#svt soft hours#svt scenarios#svt drabbles#svt x reader#mingyu scenarios#mingyu imagines#mingyu fluff#kim mingyu imagines#kim mingyu fluff
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Never Safe For Work
Dreamcatcher Gahyeon x m!reader
word count: 14k
The long-awaited return to the Dreamcatcher Office series
---
Read on AFF
Read on AO3
Universally, it went without saying that nobody in their right mind liked Mondays, for obvious reasons. But Tuesdays? Those were the real fucker.
The beginning of the work week always started the same way. Monday mornings were nothing but meetings, meetings, and more meetings. So that meant Tuesdays were not just four days left to endure, but time spent dealing with the aftermath from those endless hours of time spent discussing problems, budgets, and other mundane matters—time that could have easily been spent working on more crucial responsibilities.
Each hour passed felt longer than the previous one. Every minute dragged on as if it would never end.
Early morning hours were the most troublesome part of the day to get through, weighed down by never-ending tasks daunting for an entire team, let alone one person. Not that the rest of the week’s schedule wouldn’t be any better, always filled, with the following day more hectic than the last one.
While the weekend seemed so out of reach, somehow you mustered up the energy to tackle your responsibilities, but even the simplest task felt difficult to do before your regularly scheduled trip to the vending machine and a refill of coffee. Equipped with a hot mug, alongside your second headache of the day, you sorted through dozens of emails about new projects from your bosses, other clients, and business partners. And just when you finished one task, another would be assigned to you, another plate to spin, another fire to put out.
Despite how early it was, you needed a break—caffeine wasn’t doing its job properly, so maybe you needed an extra dose, a shot of espresso from the fancy machine in the break room that you never touched for fear of breaking it. But before you could even get out of your chair, before you could stretch your arms, a loud knock at the door interrupted your countless thoughts.
Great.
Almost nothing good came from a knock at the door before noon. Usually, your superiors would call your office when they needed something, but when they needed to show up in person—that was when you were doomed. So, with dreadful anticipation as to which boss would further ruin your day, you waited for the door to open, half expecting flames to appear on the other side.
But when the door creaked open and the figure standing in the doorway did not sport a pair of devil horns, you let out an enormous sigh of relief that it was only your assistant, Gahyeon. It wasn’t that she didn’t cause problems of her own, yet at least she wasn’t here to chastise you about an impending deadline or shove a brand new project to your already massive pile of work.
"Good morning, boss,” Gahyeon said as she stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, her mouth twisted into a less than genuine smile.
“You look pretty busy.” Nothing she could have said would be more obvious other than calling water wet. With a heavy sigh, you glared at her and tried to keep your annoyance in check. Given the evident stack of documents on your desk, you couldn’t afford to waste any time today.
"You’re late, Gahyeon. Once again. It’s half past ten, and you were supposed to be here over an hour ago.”
Upon entering the office, Gahyeon shrugged without a care in the world, but at least had the courtesy to shut the door so you could reprimand her in private. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”
That annoying smirk on her face made it even worse. You wouldn’t have been so annoyed with her if she hadn’t done this during one of the busiest weeks of the year. Nearly three months had gone by since you promoted Gahyeon to fulltime and made her your personal assistant. Essentially, it was the same job but with increased responsibilities and higher expectations, but you were beginning to regret it when she fell back on old habits.
“Well, I’ve done all the heavy lifting already since you couldn’t bother to show up when I actually needed you. There’s not much left to do right now. Go get some coffee or something.”
“But I don’t like coffee…” Gahyeon pouted, always finding an excuse to fight back against even the smallest command.
With the last of your worn patience razor-thin, you resisted the urge to snap at her while rolling your eyes practically out of your head. There was little you wanted to deal with right now, but if she was here, then you’d find some purpose for her. "Then go get something else to drink, Gahyeon. Just be back here within five minutes."
As Gahyeon left the room, you took a deep breath and rubbed your temple. Having such an unreliable assistant just added more stress, especially when she often had to be micromanaged at every moment. Your one hope would be that Gahyeon took her new position more seriously and became a valuable asset to the team, rather than a hindrance. The last thing you needed was someone to babysit.
Trying to put a dent in your many, many emails, Gahyeon returned with a bottle of fruit juice in hand, plopped down in a chair in front of your desk and took a sip, an unnerving smile etched on her smug features. She wiped her mouth, leaving a lipstick stain on the bottle as she placed it on your desk.
"You look like you could use a break, boss," she said in her usual cocky tone. Again—nothing had been more obvious.
“I could always use a break,” you replied, raising an eyebrow while you looked up from your monitor. “But that’s not a luxury we have. There’s a lot of work to be done, and not enough time to do it.”
Growing more frustrated, you looked back at your monitor, then back at Gahyeon, who hadn't moved aside from continuing to sip her fruit juice. You took a good look at her—with everything going on, her outfit hadn’t caught your attention until now. When Gahyeon was an intern, you would typically ignore it as long as her attire didn't deviate too far from the office dress code, but now that she held a place on your team, there was an expectation to dress more professional. However, every day she showed up she seemed to wear something that the higher-ups would consider wildly inappropriate.
“Gahyeon, what have I told you about your work attire?”
“What’s wrong with it?” Gahyeon looked down at her outfit, puzzled as if she wasn’t wearing anything out of the ordinary. Which, if it were up to you, would be fine—but even if you didn’t make the rules, it was your responsibility to make sure that everyone who worked underneath you followed them.
“Do I really need to answer that? A skull tie, ripped stockings, and those boots? This is a professional environment, Gahyeon,” you said, letting your frustrations all out. “And you’re expected to dress as such. You’re not that clueless intern anymore, you’ve moved up. You represent this company now, so when I ask tasks to be run and our clients show up and see you like that—”
“But I like the way it looks…I like being comfortable.”
Like always, Gahyeon missed the point, and you could feel the throbbing ache in your temple again.
“Gahyeon, do you think I like wearing these stuffy collared shirts? Or these boring, constricting ties? No, I hate them, but I deal with it.”
Before continuing, you let out a deep breath. “I don’t ask for much. Just that you show up on time and wear work-appropriate clothing. Yet you’ve failed to do both today. When I decided to hire you, it was because you promised me that you would take this position seriously, but if you won’t—then I can easily find somebody else who will.”
“Okay, okay. Calm down, boss. Tomorrow, I’ll wear one of your ugly little ties. And high heels. I promise.”
“Just be professional.”
“Aren’t I always? I’ll wear my best outfit. You won’t even recognize me.”
Gahyeon wasn't the same intern she was a year before, despite her sometimes acting like it. You had a feeling she would come around eventually, she just needed a little push in the right direction.
“So…is there anything I can help with, boss?” Gahyeon asked, even if it was a bit too little too late.
After a long pause, she leaned against your office desk, looking around at cluttered reports, financial documents, endless proposals, and worst of all—an entirely too empty coffee mug. Out of frustration, you laughed—because what didn't you need help with?
“Everything,” you said, slumping back in your chair. “I need to finish looking over these reports so I can have them sent to Minji. I’ve got weeks of expenses that need to be tallied up so Siyeon can reimburse me. There’s a video meeting with our new business partner in an hour and I haven’t even begun to prepare for it yet. And on top of that, every time I take a sip of coffee, my inbox keeps filling up. I just—”
Letting out a sigh of defeat, your voice sounded more and more strained. To make matters worse, Gahyeon hopped atop your desk, interrupting any chance to finish more work. She crossed her legs before reaching forward and placed a hand on your shoulder, squeezing it gently.
“Boss, you’re stressed. And your muscles are so tense. It sounds like you need a massage. Do you want me to give you one?”
“That’s not what I need, Gahyeon. I just need you to help me look over these reports.”
“But that’s so boring,” she whined, pouting those sultry lips in disappointment. Having little energy left to endure her presence, you could feel your headache coming back.
“That’s why it’s called work, we’re not at a theme park. You asked what I needed help with, so this is what I need help with. Maybe after we finish, then you can give me a massage.”
Gahyeon wasn't pleased with your response, as evidenced by the look in her eyes. Refusing to sit idly, she lifted herself up off your desk and slid onto your lap before you could say another word, swinging her legs over to one side, so the weight of her generous butt rested on your thigh. But she couldn’t help but fiddle with your tie, flashing a flirtatious glance in your direction.
“You smell good, boss. New cologne?” Gahyeon asked, leaning in much closer until her face became mere inches from yours, with her seductive lips dangerously close. It became impossible to avoid her gaze, and you were inclined to lift her petite frame anchored on your lap. However, it didn't really matter because fighting Gahyeon's charm was a hopeless battle.
“I don’t wear cologne. But you need to get off me, you’re being a distraction.”
Gahyeon didn’t care—rarely did she ever, with the only goal to get whatever she wanted. “Take it easy boss, you’ll pop a blood vessel. A little break won’t hurt, will it?”
“If I had time for a break, I would take one.” Whenever Gahyeon lingered around, you only grew more and more frustrated with each passing second.
“There’s always time for a break…” Gahyeon said, always refusing to make work a priority. “Maybe you should take a short one, boss? It’s not good for your health if you keep this up. Besides—isn’t this what you hired me for?”
Your brow furrowed in irritation, before finally letting out another sigh. “No, I hired you because you showed what a good worker can be. Which I’m starting to believe was just a mistake, and I should let you be an intern forever.”
Gahyeon chuckled, her demeanor unbothered. “But you like having me around. We both know you didn’t hire me just for my work skills…”
She wasn’t exactly wrong. When Gahyeon wasn’t being a thorn in your side, you enjoyed her company, and if you had to admit, it was nice to have a pretty face show up to your office first thing in the morning—when she actually showed up.
“Gahyeon, please get off me. Once I put a dent in this work then I’ll take a break. I promise.” But as expected, she didn’t budge, stubborn as ever, and kept playing with your tie.
“But I think you should take a break now…”
“Gahyeon—”
“I get it, work comes first. But so should my boss,” she smirked, taking advantage of your compromised position. You had no response.
“So you wouldn’t want me to give you a nice, sloppy blowjob under your desk? I shouldn’t get on my knees for you and wrap these pretty little lips around your thick, delicious cock?”
You swallowed hard. Gahyeon knew how to make you crumble, no matter how tough you tried to hide your weaknesses. She knew better than anyone what exact words to say and when to provoke you. If only she put as much effort into seducing you as she did in putting off her obligations.
But your lack of any protest was the closest thing to an answer as she loosened up your tie and positioned herself into a proper mount on your lap. “I wanna make you cum, boss.”
Her words sent an electrifying tingle up your spine. “I wanna make you cum in my mouth, so I can swallow it all. So you can watch me swallow your huge load. Come on, boss. I’m dying to suck your dick.”
When your assistant practically begged, it was hard not to cave in. Your heavy workload could wait, because you couldn’t avoid those tempting eyes any longer. And if anything—it would be the best way to silence that mouth.
“Then get on your fucking knees, slut.”
Gahyeon’s devilish lips couldn’t smile any wider. Quick to comply after you uttered her favorite word, a word she no longer pretended to protest against, she used those same lips to deliver a greedy, deliberate kiss, before wiping her lipstick from your mouth.
“Since when do you care about lipstick marks?”
“I don’t, boss. I’d just rather see my lipstick at the end of your cock.”
There it was again, that annoying sly grin as Gahyeon removed herself from your lap, and lowered to her knees. She then maneuvered into the space underneath your desk, nestled perfectly between your legs.
“Anything for you, boss.” Not one to hesitate, Gahyeon unzipped your pants with an intense desire to please you, eager for what waited underneath when she felt up your crotch. Faster than your next heartbeat, she yanked your slacks down, letting them drop to the floor in a heap, and your boxers fell to your ankles moments after.
Gahyeon might have been a lot of things: unmotivated, a complainer, habitually late, but if there was one thing she was an expert at, that would be taking your mind off work. So you watched while she grabbed your cock, and slapped it on her pretty face, all while maintaining that seductive smile that screamed I’ll do anything.
But it had all fallen into place far too easily. “Are you sure you deserve to suck my cock?”
Refraining from saying much more, Gahyeon frowned and answered with deft strokes as she pumped your cock with a tight grip.
“I’ll convince you, boss.”
Her eyes sparkled with determination, widening even more when she admired your shaft, before she teased it with her wet tongue and licked along your length.
If you had to admit one weakness, it would be Gahyeon’s lips; so pouty and full, kissably soft and always ready to go down on you at a moment’s notice. When they made contact on your swollen cockhead and planted several wet kisses, there would be no holding back, you had fully given into temptation.
But there would be no guilt about letting your assistant suck you off in your office for the umpteenth time, because as Gahyeon suggested—it was just part of the job.
So without interruption, you let Gahyeon do what she did best. She continued kissing your cockhead and created a path of tender kisses all the way down to your base that warmed your shaft with her hot breath as she did so. “You’re so hard, boss…”
Only Gahyeon could be blamed for that.
“Need to get this down my throat. I’m so hungry, I haven’t had breakfast yet,” Gahyeon murmured as she licked her lips, and gave your stiff cock a proper tongue bath, followed by bouts of kissing your cock that gave as much attention as she could. Ultimately, it was the look in her eyes that turned you on more so than the sloppy licks she gave your cock, but her unwavering eye contact and growing desperation while on her knees more than helped persuade you.
“Then stop teasing me, Gahyeon,” you said, shooting her a look that demanded she comply. Surprisingly, she did just that—after one more long lick up your length, her sexy lips parted, and swallowed up the engorged head of your cock. From that moment, you melted into your office chair when Gahyeon sucked your tip, and her head bobbed in a hypnotic rhythm while her delicate hands caressed your bare thighs.
“There you fucking go,,” you muttered, almost too loud for comfort as any tension in your body began to fade. Gahyeon wrapped those pretty lips around your cock and created a tight suction that instantly made you groan as she worked her magic. Using those perfect plump lips to suck on your swollen head, she only let go of your cock to flick against your leaking slit, then nudged down further to the base to take more of you in her warm mouth.
“Mmm, you’re so delicious, boss. I’ve been waiting for this all morning,” she moaned, as she slapped your cock against her wet tongue. You knew her intentions went deeper than just your personal wellbeing, but you never should have fought back against this—and if anything, Gahyeon’s mouth on your cock should be part of your morning routine.
That pretty mouth felt better the deeper it went, using all the tricks she had stored—spitting on your dick, hollowing her cheeks, and fondling your balls until your entire length ended up buried down her throat.
“Fuck, Gahyeon—just like that.” With a deep groan, your gaze fixated on Gahyeon’s bobbing head, as you savored the intense wetness of her mouth, the softness of her lips, and the wonderful warmth of her throat. The messier she got, the more tension from your body dissipated, and soon you felt lighter than a cloud, as both the stiffness in your neck and shoulders subsided.
Gahyeon, like she had candy in her mouth, sucked on each of your balls while she furiously stroked your cock. From there, her sloppy mouth swapped between your tender sack and your stiffened cock, giving equal attention until she doused each part of you with as much warm saliva as she could.
In that instant, when your throbbing length filled her throat, her greedy lips remained balls deep, with her cute nose flush against your stomach. Lost in her piercing gaze, Gahyeon lips stayed latched onto your shaft, as she took hungry, fulfilling strokes, and had never looked so needy.
But you, on the other hand, needed more than just a wet mouth to satisfy your craving. “Open that shirt up, slut. Need to see those pretty tits.”
Bobbing her head more frantically, Gahyeon kept her focus on swallowing your cock down her throat, but also loosened her tie up, and began unbuttoning her shirt. Multitasking was only a skill used when she needed it. Her nimble fingers practically ripped open her top, exposing her full, clothed breasts in the black bra underneath, with her skull tie nestled perfectly in between deep cleavage that stared back at you.
“Fuck, there’s nothing more I love than sucking your cock,” Gahyeon said, filling up her throat with every long stroke, using her talented mouth with more fervor than she ever did before.
“Doesn’t that feel good? I love hearing you moan, boss. My pretty lips must feel so good on your huge, throbbing cock, right?”
Another set of painfully obvious questions that you shouldn’t have bothered to answer. “Yeah, Gahyeon. You’re being such a good little cockslut. Fuck, your mouth feels so fucking—
It was hard to finish your sentence when you had your assistant slobbering on your dick, lips hard at work, desperate to prove her worth.
"Then why aren’t you fucking my throat?" Gahyeon asked, hands gripping your thighs to further add encouragement. You had to ask yourself the same question—but there was no need for an answer, especially after you immediately grabbed both sides of her head, with your fingers tangled up in her pretty locks.
Fortunately for Gahyeon, it wasn't in your nature to be gentle with her, and she would never want you to be. After staring at her mesmerizing eyes, you shoved her head down your length, thrusting into her mouth until you bottomed out her throat in one fluid stroke, forcing out a gag on the first try.
Holding her head down, you pumped vigorously into that tight mouth, and Gahyeon gagged once more as the bottom of your length became saturated with lipstick and saliva. Now that the last bits of control were taken away, Gahyeon let out sultry sounds of being unable to manage your length, regardless how many times she had been in this exact position.
“Sorry, boss. You’re just so big for my slutty little mouth.” Gahyeon got off on this part the most, and nothing made her happier than having her throat stuffed to the hilt, being choked with cock as you shoved it down until she couldn’t even breathe.
More than the thick flesh that gagged her, Gahyeon loved the helplessness that came with being throatfucked, the way her mouth filled with drool, and how it took mere seconds until her once pretty face became an absolute mess with just a handful of harsh thrusts. On your end, you loved ruining Gahyeon’s makeup, as well as making her luscious lips glisten with saliva, because when she walked out of your office with mascara and tears dripping down her cheeks—you knew she had no way to hide the events that had just transpired.
Yet, for all the many times you gave Gahyeon the rough throatfucking she so desperately begged for, she should have grown accustomed to the harsh way you used her pretty mouth. But you couldn’t say you didn’t love to see her struggle, audibly gag, and drool when your length continuously shoved down her throat.
After all, whenever Gahyeon was on her knees, she had little trouble submitting to you. In fact, she preferred this, to be treated like nothing but your own personal toy, to use whenever at your own convenience. Without any complaints, Gahyeon continued gagging on your cock, as you continued thrusting your hips into her face, urged by the look on her face.
“Such a good fucking slut, taking me so well. My pretty little assistant really likes being facefucked, don’t you? And gagging on your boss’s dick?” With her cock-filled throat gurgling on your shaft, slurping and leaking saliva down the corners of her lips as she tried to choke it down, Gahyeon couldn’t exactly give a response. But you could see it in those needy, lust-filled eyes, how much she took pleasure in her throat being fucked without mercy, without consideration for how well she could breathe.
Only once did you grant Gahyeon a brief respite that left her gasping for air. Unconcerned for anything but your taste, she latched her wet lips onto your balls, and suckled them with a greedy hunger you hadn’t seen before, tasting her own spilled saliva. “I really love choking on your dick, boss. You make me so wet when you force my head down, when you make my eyes water, when I can feel every last inch of this beautiful dick throbbing down my throat…”
From then, it only got rougher, even messier when Gahyeon sputtered out saliva against your shaft, gagging on your length over and over as she struggled to breathe properly. Regardless of how rough things got, she would always choose the hard flesh jammed down her throat over oxygen, and nothing could deter the lewd expressions she made, nor could it deter your vigorous skullfucking.
More and more you craved your addiction—the sounds of Gahyeon struggling, the tears in her pleading eyes, the streaks of mascara that beautifully ran down her face, and the harsh tugs of her hair you made when you hit the back of her throat. Equally, Gahyeon craved the way her lips were forced down at the bottom of your base, her mouth wide open and her jaw stretched out. Most of all, you were addicted to the intense feeling of ramming your cock down Gahyeon’s throat, because there wasn’t anything better than the messy sounds from a good throatfuck.
Gahyeon fulfilled her role well, even if she did little but stay on her knees and offer up her wet throat, dedicated to your pleasure.
"Fuck, this throat feels so damn good,” you groaned, as the endless echoing noises her messy little mouth made compelled you to be even rougher, causing the final traces of self-control collapsed. “You sound so good choking on this dick. My little slut likes being your boss’s personal fucktoy, don’t you?”
The way that Gahyeon looked up drove you wild as she answered with her eyes, not only just enduring, but savoring the merciless treatment of her throat, yet getting off more by your degrading words than any actions.
Just as you felt yourself going insane with bliss and drew closer and closer to that sweet nirvana—there came a knock at a door that interrupted your fun.
Shit.
Mild panic kicked in—you couldn’t think straight. You wouldn't have any cause for concern if Yoohyeon or Bora came through that door, they’d even take a seat to enjoy the show and spur you on. But you had to be ready for anyone else who wouldn’t turn a blind eye, regardless if the entire office floor knew you railed your assistant more often than a fresh cup of coffee brewed.
After you involuntarily released the tight grip you held on either side of Gahyeon’s head, you tried to collect yourself and ran through dozens of scenarios in your head in preparation for whatever possibility would materialize.
“Don’t fucking move, Gahyeon. Don’t make a fucking sound, just keep my cock warm in your throat, okay?”
Moving back beneath your desk as a quick sign of acknowledgment, Gahyeon tried her best to stay out of sight, and for the time being, kept your cock in her mouth obediently.
While your heart pounded as you wondered who could possibly be behind your office door, you made your best effort to tidy up your desk, wanting at least something to look presentable.
“Come in!” you said, after some serious hesitation, and hoped that you wouldn’t be caught with your pants down—quite literally. Moments later, the door to your office opened, and it came as no surprise who stood behind it, the lesser of two evils—Kim Minji.
“Good morning, boss.” Somehow, you found the courage to look straight ahead while resisting the impulse to look underneath your desk.
“Morning!” Minji replied back, sporting a bright smile. “Don’t worry, I’m not here to add to your pile. I come with good news only. Here are our monthly earnings reports. We’re up ten percent from last month, so your bonus at the end of the month will reflect that. Good work.”
You held your breath when Minji dropped a folder on your desk, and pretended everything was as normal as could be, like you weren’t naked from the waist down with your cock being warmed by Gahyeon’s pretty lips.
“Thank you, boss. Oh here, I have some reports that you need to look over and sign them.”
“Of course, I’ll have them back to you by the end of the day.” For all the stress that Minji brought, her smile alone came with a sense of relief, and she was much preferable to deal with than her scary counterpart, Siyeon.
“Wait, where is Gahyeon? I swear I saw her earlier, did she not show up today?” Minji asked, folding her arms against her chest.
If only Minji knew your assistant was nestled under your desk. Which of course meant Gahyeon couldn’t help herself. As if on cue, her tongue began to play with the underside of your shaft, and you gritted your teeth to control yourself, but you palmed the back of Gahyeon's head and dug your nails into her skull to prevent anything else.
“Oh, she’s here. She’s…around. I sent her on a couple errands, so she should be back soon.”
“Ah, okay. Well, whenever she comes back, send her my regards for a job well done. She’s an official part of the team now, so she shares the credit.”
“Sure thing, boss.” Minji nodded, turned around to head back to her office, then shut the door behind her. Once she had departed, you took a deep breath, and relaxed back in your chair, with your heart still racing.
“Jesus, Gahyeon. What did I say?” You glared at her underneath your desk, but she didn’t utter a single word. No sooner had you taken your next breath before she snatched your cock back inside her mouth and went back to work.
“Think you can finish me off by yourself? You want me to blow my load down your tummy?"
Gahyeon had never smiled so wide, nor had as much enthusiasm when she bobbed her head and played with your balls, trying to speed up your orgasm. “Yes, boss! Please let me swallow your cum, I’ll suck every drop out of you.”
Despite how much she enjoyed having her throat used, Gahyeon also took pride in her oral expertise. So, in the blink of an eye, her movements grew frantic, eager to wring out your load as promised, with every stroke of her mouth bringing you even further to ecstasy.
More than ready to blow your load, you couldn’t ignore the tightness in your core when Gahyeon’s warm, sloppy mouth devoured your cock up, deepthroating from tip to base, with a trail of saliva covering every inch as she slurped the life out of you.
“Don’t fucking stop, Gahyeon. I’m so close, keep sucking that dick until you make me explode,” you demanded, and she obliged as she sucked with a fervor never shown before, impatiently waiting for you to shoot down her throat.
Nearly there, your breathing grew heavy, faster with each stroke, and you couldn’t wait to release that deep reservoir of pent up lust Gahyeon had caused. As each pass drove you closer and closer to release, you couldn't stop staring at how her lips swallowed you whole while her eyes kept their focus on you, anticipating your climax.
Gahyeon didn’t hold back anything, finishing you off with one more long stroke from base to tip, as you gripped the back of her head tightly with both hands, pressed her face down your crotch, and let out a loud groan when you finally unloaded in her mouth. Like a tidal wave, your orgasm hit, her eyes widening more than they ever had when your thick cum quickly overflowed from the messy corners of her lips, the volume of your orgasm simply too much to handle.
You firmly held her head down, unwilling to let go, all while your dick continued to pulsate inside Gahyeon’s throat, sending more hot semen down, and you spilled everything you had with loud grunts and lust-filled groans. Exhausted and drained of every drop, every ounce of energy, you gasped and panted while releasing the harsh grip you held, feeling the weight of the world lifted. With a messy face and a satisfied smile, Gahyeon pulled away until your cock released from her lips, and opened her mouth wide to let you see the creamy pool of cum gathered up before she swallowed the sticky mess that coated her throat.
After licking her lips stained with saliva, Gahyeon cleaned up the remnants of arousal that she failed to contain, using her tongue to clean up your crotch so she could fill her stomach more. Only then did she place one more deep kiss on your cock that had yet to stop twitching, and slid her tongue into your sensitive slit, desperate to try to find a drop she hadn’t yet tasted.
“Your cum tastes so good, but I need more, boss, much more. Your delicious cum makes a very good breakfast.”
“Greedy little cumslut.” Gahyeon giggled in admission as she licked clean the head of your cock. Several deep breaths later, you leaned back in your chair and just stared at her, who kept some part of her body touching yours, lips kissing your inner thighs, delicate hands longing to keep your body warm.
You were far from done with her, but the workplace would no longer cut it, you needed a more open playground.
“There’s much more for you later, but you’ll have to earn it,” you said, earning a pout from Gahyeon’s thoroughly used lips, because being told to work for something—even your dick, made her disappointed. Taking some pause, she lifted herself up, stood upright, and took a seat back on your desk, eyes looking around at the stacks and mountains of paperwork that seemed impossible to know where to begin.
“Now that I’ve relieved some of that stress, what else can I help with, boss?” she asked, not even bothering to button up her shirt.
“Nothing, Gahyeon.”
“Nothing?” she repeated, tilting her head to one side. “But I thought you had a lot of work to finish…”
“Yeah, I do. Piles of it, as you can see. But since you got me so worked up, it’ll have to wait,” you said, shamelessly focusing on her uncovered cleavage that still had glistening saliva staining her chest.
“I’m going to take the rest of the day off, and so are you, just so I can rail you into next week—but not here. Because we both know you’ll be far too loud, so we’re going back to my place so I can fuck your brains out far away from this office, where nobody will be around to hear how loud you’ll scream for me.”
Even in her disheveled state, Gahyeon couldn’t have been more overjoyed. She’d take any excuse to leave the office. But convincing your superiors as to why you were leaving work with your assistant before noon would be the tricky part, though just this once, you could count on Gahyeon, because you knew she had a thousand different ways to get out of work. You'd leave that part all up to her.
✦ ✦
You couldn’t have driven fast enough to your place. Luckily, most traffic lights were in your favor, and those that weren’t, well—you were fortunate enough to not see red and blue in your rear view mirror. Not even three songs played through your playlist before you arrived, then it became a race to enter your house, and the door couldn’t open fast enough.
The thought of staying in a hotel did cross your mind, with its spacious beds that you wouldn’t be responsible for changing sheets, scalding hot showers, and beautiful balconies that were perfect for ramming your pretty assistant up against the cold glass while admiring the view. If you wanted, you could have made everything come full circle and took Gahyeon to the same hotel you took Bora to that very first night that snowballed your office relationships. For sure, that really would have made Gahyeon jealous and brought out an even bigger brat in her, but also most likely you’d get kicked out for noise complaints within five minutes.
Your place would suffice. After all, it was already well equipped with everything you needed, without worries of noise or any other concerns, although you planned on fucking Gahyeon hard enough that the entire neighborhood could hear her moans and screams.
When the door closed behind Gahyeon, there would be no more holding back, the green light to take her against any surface to do whatever you pleased with her. But she didn’t even bother to properly store her shoes when she slipped them off, yet neither did you, as you tossed your keys, wallet, and all your inhibitions.
“Bedroom? Living room?” she asked, but wouldn’t make it past the foyer before you pinned her against the front door with a hand wrapped around her throat. Gahyeon knew things wouldn’t be easy the moment she stepped foot in your place, but it didn’t stop her from feeling just a trace of nervousness when you tightened your grip, adding to her arousal.
She couldn’t hide her anticipation, nor her little lip quivers under your control, but at the same time—this was what she wanted, what she worked hard to provoke you, willing to fold and let you have your way with her.
“Here? You’re gonna fuck me hard against this door, daddy?” she asked, as though it were both a question and a suggestion, but it only made you clutch her throat harder when you pushed her more against the wood of the front door.
“Don’t call me that, Gahyeon.”
“But you like it when I call you that. And we’re not at the office…” Gahyeon was right on all counts, but after her little morning shenanigans, she would have to earn her daddy privileges back.
“You’re right. We’re not at the office anymore, but that doesn’t mean you still deserve to use that word. Because now you’re going to call me sir while I fuck you senseless until your legs give out.”
Releasing the grip on her throat, Gahyeon caught her breath, then gave a slight nod with a blatantly mocking salute. “Yes, sir.”
“That’s much better. Now arms up.”
Gahyeon stalled as she rolled her eyes and curled her lips into an even more blatant smirk. “But what if I don’t wanna?”
That was what you expected, of course. Now, in the comfort of your own space, the best part of bringing Gahyeon home was the freedom to do what you wanted with her. But it came at a cost, for her to fall into her old bratty ways, with her own freedom to challenge every order you gave with less repercussions than at the office..
“Arms up, slut,” you repeated, but predictable as always, Gahyeon didn’t move a muscle, nor did she make any attempts to listen. Fine then, you would play her little game—for now. While you stared at the whites of those gorgeous eyes, waiting to see who would blink first, you seized her cold, delicate wrists, and pinned them above her head with the harshest grip you could manage.
She pretended to fight back, squirming under your touch, and pretended like she couldn’t be controlled. But when you stared daggers into her big, round eyes, she folded like a deck of cards, thanks to your intimidating gaze.
“Keep those arms raised, Gahyeon. Don’t drop them until I say so.”
“Y-yes, sir,” she said after nodding in agreement, refusing to give up her faux defiance while you caressed and patted her cheek.
“Good girl.”
As her first test of obedience, you released the firm grip on her wrists that had developed bruises already, and observed while she kept her arms held high above her head. Searching for any signs of resistance, you couldn’t find any when you loosened up Gahyeon’s tie and slid it off her, almost tempted to use it to bind her hands together. Instead, you flung it aside and undid her top, allowing yourself access to her ample breasts once more.
Her chest didn’t stay covered for long, and after a long stare between her deep cleavage, you tugged her lacy bra down enough to release her wonderful full breasts, cupping them the moment they earned freedom.
Making sure Gahyeon still held her arms up, you squeezed her bare breasts, groping as much flesh could fill your hands. You teased her taut nipples, flicking your fingers against them as they stiffened up, which made a helpless Gahyeon moan against your touch.
“Look at these gorgeous fucking tits. They look so swollen and sensitive,” you said while fondling them to your heart's content, enjoying their softness, their pleasant weight, and how effortlessly they bounced as you toyed with them. Her tits were as immaculate as they were sensitive, softer as you remembered, perfectly shaped, and you could spend hours kneading them, playing with them, all while her eyes begging for your continued touch.
The more you squeezed Gahyeon’s large breasts, the needier her moans became, as your hands got lost in that milky flesh. She could feel her shoulders ache the longer things went, but knew better than to dare complain. That would be the least of her worries soon enough.
You tugged at her pretty nipples, pinched them, then flicked them more just to break the silence with her whines—but it would be the last modicum of pure pleasure you would grant Gahyeon. Without warning, you slapped one of her heavy breasts, and watched her flinch in surprise. You then slapped her other breast even harder, perfectly landing on her stiffened nipple that you pinched right after, making her yelp out while causing satisfying ripples of her sensitive flesh.
Unable to hide her reactions, Gahyeon cried out in both pain and pleasure while you continued smacking her pale tits, the harsh sound an addictive level of arousal for her—for you, another release of frustration, more encouragement to hear those cute whines, and most of all, more punishment.
Back and forth you went between her beautiful tits, and smacked one after another, right, then the left, then the opposite direction, even slapping them both at once, like a metronome of painful pleasure leaving an arousing soreness that made Gahyeon’s thighs clench.
"I like you much better when you're an obedient little whore,” you said, proud to have wiped that smirk from Gahyeon’s pretty face, and kept up your assault on her supple, tender breasts that began to turn a shade of red that contrasted with her creamy skin, turning even more sensitive than from the start. She fought hard not to moan, unsuccessful when you carried on the ruthless nature, each pass across her reddened chest a heavy reminder that you were the one with all the power.
“Fucking brat. You like these huge fucking tits being slapped?” Before she responded, you roughly kneaded her breasts, earning even louder whimpers when you played with her nipples, driving her crazy with stimulation.
“Y-yes, sir, I love it, I love my tits being slapped! Please, sir, please—make it hurt,” Gahyeon pleaded, and for once, you’d oblige her by smacking her tits with much more force than previously, only to watch them bounce and bounce, as if counting the times she disobeyed you. You knew she could take more, that the painful sting of her tits being slapped would only ruin her panties more. Which was exactly why following a few more smacks and tugs at her swollen nipples, you gave each sensitive, reddened breast one final slap before you pulled away.
Unsurprisingly, Gahyeon couldn’t help but be greedy and beg for just a little more. “Please, sir! Please keep slapping my tits, please, please…”
But you ignored her pleas entirely and took a step back, admiring the way Gahyeon stayed frozen in this helpless state. “No, Gahyeon. A greedy little slut like you doesn’t deserve anything.”
Next came the customary pouts, needy whines, and desperate pleas that you disregarded while guiding her away from the doorway, removing that pesky shirt and bra to leave her fully topless. Finally able to rest her tired arms, the first thing Gahyeon did was make her way over to you, squeezed a handful of your crotch, and let her eyes wander while a delightful smile overtook her sinful lips.
“Please, sir…” Normally, you’d punish an unpermitted action like that, but well—you figured Gahyeon had enough punishment for now. Plus, you knew that would be exactly what she wanted. So instead, you simply grabbed Gahyeon by the waist, and held her tight against the nearest wall as you dove into her neck.
“Ah, please!” Letting out little gasps while you licked, nibbled, and then sucked on her delicate neck, eager to leave a mark.
As you kept sucking a bruise into her neck, Gahyeon returned to your crotch, and rubbed you through your slacks until you hardened under her touch. You made quick work of her skirt and removed it from her tiny little waist, then watched the way it dropped down to her ankles, leaving her in just skimpy panties and torn stockings. Those tattered, unprofessional stockings which gave you an idea when you dropped to one knee.
You ran a finger over her thigh, scratching against the material to test its strength, and easily tore through the fragile fabric. Confirming your suspicions, you found the perfect spot and tugged at the sheer fabric right between the center until they ripped open.
Gahyeon looked down in shock, but you couldn’t even be bothered to meet her gaze. “Hey! I liked those stockings!”
You didn’t—they were tacky, cheap-looking, and most of all, inappropriate for the office. No better excuse than getting rid of them by ripping them off Gahyeon. “You earn a better paycheck now, you can buy another pair. One that’s more professional, like you promised. Besides, they were ripped already.”
“But they’re supposed to be—”
Ignoring her was, as always, the best course of action while you removed her now useless stockings and admired her bare, luscious legs in all their splendor. When you rose to your feet and pressed two fingers against her clothed cunt, Gahyeon no longer had any complaints to spare.
“Ah! Will you—will you fuck me now, sir?”
Not a damn thing would stop you from that. “Yes, Gahyeon. I’m going to use your tight body, every slutty little hole, until I’m satisfied, and I’ll make sure I ruin you.”
With your intentions laid out, Gahyeon couldn’t look more pleased, and there was no better motivation than your petite assistant waiting for you to ravage her body. Not wasting a second, Gahyeon unbuttoned your pants as you took off your shirt, adding both items to the discarded pile of clothes underneath. For a brief moment, you admired each other’s half-naked bodies, until you grabbed her waist to pull her close enough so that she could feel your bulge against her toned stomach.
“I can feel how hard you are. I did this to you, didn’t I sir?” Gahyeon asked, as she reached down to massage your bulge, tracing every inch while your throbbing erection strained against the fabric.
“You’re right, Gahyeon. Your slutty little body caused this. And you know what I plan on doing about it right?”
“This cock is going inside me, isn’t it, sir? Until I can’t walk?”
“Until you can’t walk.”
Without saying anything more, Gahyeon began her ascent up the stairs that led to the bedroom, but only made it a few steps, before you grabbed her voluptuous hips and bent her over the stairwell railing. Little could compare from such a vantage point with your curvy assistant in your favorite position, yet you wasted no time peeling off her skimpy little thong to expose her plump buttcheeks and the prettiest set of pink pussy lips.
“Impatient, sir?” she asked, and instinctively spread her legs, granting easier access to whichever part of her body you would decide to partake in first. Making that decision would be more difficult than anything you had done at work, for sure.
“That’s your fault, Gahyeon. Now you’re going to share some of the responsibility,” you replied, pondering over your choices carefully. Her tight, spankable ass begged for attention, and that little asshole would be a wonderful place to start, but the wet flesh of her gorgeous cunt couldn’t be ignored, beckoning as it dripped with arousal. Either would provide an ideal home for your aching shaft.
Until a decision could be made, you removed your boxers, and gave yourself some relief, stroking several times as your attention grew divided between Gahyeon’s juicy ass and the slick pair of lips that waited for you.
“Where do you want this cock, slut?" you asked, unable to make a decision on your own and rested your shaft between her shapely cheeks. Surrounded by supple flesh that sandwiched your thick erection, you slid in between and throbbed while you awaited her answer.
“Wherever you want, sir,” Gahyeon responded, an honest, yet unhelpful response that did little to steer your answer in the right direction. “It really doesn’t matter, as long as you pound me like a whore and empty these big juicy balls inside me.”
Back at square one, it would be up to you to choose your own fate. Inevitably, you’d use both that tight sculpted ass and her drenched, succulent pussy, but without any lube in arm’s reach, the choice became obvious which would be the winner of your seed. You would save the best for last.
“Fine, Gahyeon. Let’s start with this pretty little cunt.”
With your cock poised above Gahyeon’s ass, she couldn’t have been more ready when she arched her back and leaned firmly on the railing, looking back for a moment to entice you with her eyes. As you lined yourself up with her warm opening, your tip nudged her plump pussy lips, and you felt her walls tremble in anticipation. You were all out of patience, so after you grabbed her wide hips and slid inside her with ease, you bottomed her out with your entire length in one fluid motion.
“Oh god,” Gahyeon moaned out in surprise, while her pussy tightened around your shaft the moment she felt your thick shaft slide into her slippery warmth. “So fucking big.”
There was no pause, no hesitation when you plunged your hard cock inside the intense warmth of Gahyeon’s tight little pussy. The soft flesh wrapped around you, already dripping wet when it squeezed your length, and your shaft felt so damn good inside that tight hole that your hips picked up speed right away, stretching out her velvety walls. With every thrust you felt her walls quiver, compelled to grip her body tighter, and used her body as an outlet, entirely out of frustration for how goddamn tight she was.
“Goddamn, Gahyeon, you’re so fucking wet,” you hissed, out of breath at the hot flesh that craved your throbbing cock as you pumped into her heat, your entire shaft covered in her slick juices. “So tight, such a tight fucking slut, god—this tight pussy feels too good.”
Already, you were going insane, even by the first set of thrusts, Gahyeon felt so hot around you, her delicious cunt squeezing so harshly, that you couldn't help but give in to lust, freeing the restraints that remained. Almost on autopilot, you pounded into her heat unabated, pistoning your hips that met her supple cheeks, and rippled with every thrust as the smack of flesh on flesh filled the small foyer.
“Oh my god, just like that. Fuck me like that, please sir, fuck me like a toy!” she begged, not that being gentle with her would ever be an option, not when you could stretch her in ways unimaginable.
“Your tight little cunt loves my cock, doesn’t it? Look at you creaming all over me like a needy fucking whore. You like being used, don’t you? You like being fucked this rough by your boss?” you growled, as Gahyeon desperately moaned for more.
Fueled by the intense clench of her cunt that persuaded you to keep the rough pace, she held the railing while you kept railing her, and made every type of satisfied moan imaginable. Those delicious cheeks bounced and bounced when your body clapped against them, and they became a soundtrack of delirious bliss, one that you could listen to forever.
“Sir, yes! Oh my god, you’re so deep in my little pussy, please, please, sir—fuck me harder! Fuck, oh fuck!”
You continued to mercilessly slam into Gahyeon’s wet cunt as she repeatedly added the word sir to the end of her moans, and fought to keep up with the tempo you set as she became louder with each hard set of thrusts.
Beginning to pant heavily, Gahyeon squirmed underneath your body and desperately tried to anchor herself to the stairwell. Her beautiful pale skin glistened with sweat as you kept pounding away into her slippery warm depths, and your movements became more and more erratic, borderline out of control.
And she endured it all so well, so fucking wet you swore you would slip out of her at any moment, but you kept hammering out thrusts, with your end goal to absolutely destroy her cunt. Because with Gahyeon, there was no such thing as being too rough, no holding back, and it was a given to fuck her without a morsel of mercy that undoubtedly, even your neighbors across the street could hear the screams she made while your bodies crashed together.
If it were anything less, Gahyeon would have complained without end.
Leaning closer, with your hands still squeezing her insanely wide hips, you buried your face into the crook of her hot sweaty neck, took a long lick, and bit down harshly, yearning for the rich taste of Gahyeon.
“After I cum in you, that huge ass is next. I’ve been waiting to fill your holes, ever since you were on your knees under my desk. I could have pounded your ass at work, but I wanted to do it in the comfort of my own bed so I wouldn’t have to worry about staining the carpet. It’s not easy to explain to the custodial staff that my assistant can’t keep her fucking legs closed.”
For once, maybe since the first time you met her—Gahyeon became speechless. Her attention narrowed on how you were slamming your hips against her and rearranging her guts. “When you report to work tomorrow, you’re going to have to carry around one of those spare cushions from the maintenance closet from me ravaging your perfect ass.”
Every slew of vulgarity that left your mouth made Gahyeon’s hips buck almost as much as the rough thrusts that battered her sweaty little body. You kept yourself buried in her tight cunt, consumed with desire from the sensations of your hard cock that slid between her drenched lips, pounding into her with thrusts so hard she almost collapsed.
Overpowered by exhaustion, Gahyeon released her grip on the stairwell, and you took advantage by seizing both her arms one at a time, and held them behind her back, linking them with yours. She wasn’t going anywhere as her lips uttered the most needy cries of pleasure when you pulled her upright towards you, the warmth of her cunt intoxicating, sending you into a frenzy of bliss. Gahyeon was completely yours, and you were free to use and dominate her hot body as much as you desired until you had your fill.
Utilizing your remaining strength, you followed down a final path of merciless thrusts while keeping her curves close to you at all times, maintaining the urge to fuck every last little bit of brat out of her.
Her words became a jumbled mess of incoherence, and the more you plunged into that smothering wet heat, the greater the urge became to spill your seed inside Gahyeon, unwilling to fight back against the tightness in your balls that demanded to be drained.
And while Gahyeon didn’t deserve to cum—you were more than content to keep this a one-sided ride of pleasure, but had to ensure that she became more than a ruined, blithering, fucked out mess who couldn’t remember whose assistant she was. You wouldn’t be satisfied until her legs turned to jelly, hell-bent on this maddening pace as her body began to tremble, counting down to the last moments of release that you both chased.
Because there would never be anything better than watching Gahyeon fall apart at the seams.
"Sir, please, I’m so close. Please, n-need, need to—” Gahyeon didn’t even have to vocalize her desires when the walls of her soaked cunt tightened to a new level, but you always enjoyed that begging, and wouldn’t hesitate to finish what you had started. So after letting go of her arms, she collapsed to the stairs, clinging onto the wooden steps with your cock still pounding away.
“Hurry up and cum then,” you said, indulging your desires to reclaim her delicious hips once more, clutching them tightly.
Gahyeon couldn’t exactly do much else under your control, so close to obtaining what she craved since you shoved your cock inside her. She seemed almost reluctant, but the tighter you held her and the quicker you pumped, the more the walls of her cunt pulsated violently—until she shattered like glass. The pressure boiled up inside far too much, making her writhe uncontrollably, juices pouring down your dick that painted the bottom stairs.
“Shit, oh fuck, oh fuck—” Gahyeon gasped out when she hit her peak, and let out a torrential outpour of shrieks, her walls continuously suffocating your cock. The only thing better would be seeing Gahyeon’s tits bouncing wildly in the mirror, as well as the look of pure bliss etched on her gorgeous face when she came.
Never had her pussy felt so wet or so tight, those harsh clenches like she was prematurely attempting to extract the cum from your aching balls, desperate to be filled with your seed to the brim.
“You must be close too, sir. Cum inside me, please, please cum inside me, fill me, sir…”
“Don’t you fucking worry, Gahyeon. Your slutty little pussy feels way too good for me not to empty my load into you. That’s what you wanted from the beginning, right? Your boss pumping all this hot cum into your warm little cunt?”
“Yes, yes! Please, sir—fill your little brat, fill me up and use me like a cumdump. Need to feel your big throbbing cock emptying into me, please.”
Savoring the way that tight little hole trembled for your load would be the last thing you did before burying your length inside one last time, and unloaded deep into Gahyeon. All those hours of pent up annoyance disappeared when you spilled your hot seed into her insides. Her wet, hungry pussy clenched for more, milking out spurt after spurt, groan after groan, as your cock twitched in violent pulsations, and filled her up to the brim, overflowing with every drop.
You chased that last bit of bliss, pumping with as many strokes as your body had left, and fucked your hot semen into Gahyeon deep, deep as it would go—all the way into her womb.
When that last spurt finally left your balls, you slumped against her, panting heavily, but with no desire to unsheathe from her warmth. Especially not when Gahyeon continued to quiver in ecstasy, catching her breath while you both recovered.
“Th-thank you, sir,” Gahyeon whispered, her voice weak and trembling, just like her legs underneath her that became just as useless as any words. Your breathing only became deeper the longer you stayed inside Gahyeon, and eventually you pulled out from her swollen lips, watching a slow drip of thick, pearlescent cum that had just been swallowed up leak down her glistening thighs, meeting the rest of her arousal on the steps.
“Gahyeon, fuck—”
“D-don’t worry, sir,” she answered, almost reading your mind while your fresh cum continued to trickle down her battered cunt. “Never been better…”
After a tilt of her head sideways, you kissed her lips while still pressing yourself against her body, feeling her breath in your mouth to validate her condition for yourself. “That’s my good assistant.”
Even though her legs no longer felt like her legs, and her breathing remained unsteady, you helped Gahyeon up to her feet, and moved her so her back rested against the railing.
“So, boss…”
Her chest still hypnotically heaved, and she held onto each side of the railing for support. “H-how come you never fuck me this hard in the office?”
“Because if I fucked you this hard, we’d both get fired. We’ve gotten caught enough times as is.”
“Yeah, well—” she paused, and avoided the subject, grabbing you by the arm with a weak grip. “You promised you’d fuck me in the ass, boss. Now, come on, I can still walk. Barely.”
Whenever Gahyeon looked up at you like that, flushed cheeks, disheveled hair, and a magic smile, now you were the one powerless. If she didn’t need a breather, then neither did you. So, leading the way, Gahyeon sluggishly climbed up the stairs to the bedroom, swaying her hips, with her round ass such a beautiful target that you couldn’t help but smack.
✦ ✦
After the pounding she took, Gahyeon didn’t exactly run up the bedroom stairs. However, her leisurely pace meant you could admire every aspect of her delicious body, and watch the way your cum still dripped down her thighs with every step.
Her appetite for dick hadn’t been tamed, and if there was anything better than Gahyeon on her knees—it was Gahyeon lying on your bed naked. Running fingers through her hair, her head bobbed with familiarity between your spread legs, her bare feet dangling in the air, with a mouth full of cock.
But while you loved the proper oral session Gahyeon gave as you relaxed into your pillows, and her hot mouth swallowing your length whole, that wasn’t her purpose here. That belonged to something waiting on your nightstand.
You raised Gahyeon’s head off your cock with a simple motion, which caused her lips to pout, but instead of complaining, she crawled over your lap and grabbed something from said nightstand.
“This must be for me,” Gahyeon said, attempting to act coy and innocent as she shook up a bottle of lube, its contents already half-empty. She flicked the bottle open with a pop, and turned her back towards you, positioning herself on the edge of your lap. Gahyeon gave you a worthy show when she lubed herself up, inserting one digit, then another, fingering her ass as she spread the cold liquid around her tightest hole, letting out cute little moans the deeper she went.
“Can’t wait to feel your cock instead of my fingers,” she said, turning to face you, and drizzled lube down your shaft, eyes beaming with anticipation. “Can’t wait to feel all of it filling me up.”
For good measure, she poured some down your balls, just to see the way they glistened when she rubbed it in, but kept going, her oiled up hands massaging your stiff cock.
“Hope you’re ready for that little asshole to be stretched, Gahyeon.”
“I am. I can’t wait anymore, sir, please,” she pleaded, guiding your cock, and groaned when she sandwiched your girth between her asscheeks. Letting her impatience linger, you remained silent while Gahyeon’s massive ass rubbed your cock, but grabbed the bottle of lube from her, and coated her pale cheeks until her entire backside became oiled up.
“See? Doesn’t that feel good? It’ll feel so much better when it’s inside me…”
You couldn’t agree more, but that only meant Gahyeon would wait longer, because you needed one more moment to savor how the oiled flesh of her plump ass squeezed your cock, one more moment to admire that magnificent ass. Grabbing a handful, you smacked it hard, an imaginary green light appearing in her eyes.
“Yeah? You’re going to ream my ass finally?” Gahyeon asked with a breath of relief.
“Yes, Gahyeon. There’s no way I’m not going to shove my cock up this perfect ass.”
Those words made her grin from ear to ear, earning what she wished for, a reward for patience. "I’ve needed my little hole stretched so wide, sir, please—”
“You don’t have to keep calling me sir,” you said, and her eyes twinkled upon earning her privileges back.
“Please, daddy—”
“Stop begging, Gahyeon. I'm not only going to stretch you out, I plan on destroying your tight ass until you become a pathetic, whimpering mess. And even if you pleaded with me to stop fucking your brains out, I won’t, because remember—you wanted this.”
Gahyeon couldn’t help but curl her distinctive lips into a blush-inducing smile. Despite the fact that you just laid out the blueprints to give her the anal hammering she so richly deserved, you felt no obligation to move a muscle. After all, you shouldn’t be the only one doing all the work, should you?
“If you want this dick so bad, then come bounce that fat ass on it.”
“Yes, daddy!” she replied, somehow still so energetic while she lifted her hips high and grabbed your cock, carefully lining it up against her back opening, that juicy ass eagerly waiting to be filled. When it came to anal, Gahyeon was nothing but enthusiastic, and preferred it almost as much as you did, and who could blame her when she had an ass like that.
So naturally, Gahyeon wasted little time, taking a deep breath before lowering herself down, until your thick cockhead disappeared inside her impossibly tight asshole. That first orgasmic plunge was the very definition of heaven, a slow burn of bliss upon entering her back entrance that always took your breath away.
“Oh god, daddy,” she gasped, placing both hands on your thighs for leverage. Sharing the sentiment, you gritted your teeth when you felt such an overwhelming tightness that surrounded your shaft, and could hardly process it all, eyes focused on the way Gahyeon’s luscious ass rose back up, nearly leaving herself empty before she sank deeper. There was nothing like watching her ass swallow up your cock.
Every little twitch, every shudder that ran through your body urged her to take you deeper, because for your assistant, it wasn’t much trouble to fit more of you inside. At this point, Gahyeon was a seasoned veteran in taking a cock up her ass, relaxing every muscle, while she took more into her hungry lithe body.
“Shit, Gahyeon, that ass is fucking tight,” you said, now your turn to be blatantly obvious as Gahyeon worked more cock inside that warm little hole, with only one goal in mind—every inch balls deep.
That goal wouldn’t take long to accomplish when she arched her back, taking your cock into her small frame like it was nothing, and spread her ass cheeks to accept more of you. “Good girl, you take that cock like such a good girl, stretch that little asshole out.”
With every word of praise, she clenched hard, an extra bonus to that magnificent view in front, Gahyeon’s perfect, round ass taking more of your girth, begging for your whole length.
“Ah fuck, daddy—oh my god, you’re so big. You feel so good, daddy, I need more, fuck, fuck—”
Nothing compared to the tightness of Gahyeon; that divine cunt could squeeze a load out of you in seconds, but her warm, heavenly asshole, almost painfully tight—that’s where the real fun started.
Greedy as could be, Gahyeon bounced her thick ass on your dick like she had something to prove, that vice-like grip already driving you to the point of insanity. Nearly burying your entire length in one motion, she pumped those wide hips like they had a mind of their own, and the pressure on your cock intensified while her tight little hole became stretched to the limit.
“Fuck, I love how good this feels. Need daddy to gape me, open me up more. Please, daddy, fill me more…”
She pleaded with every word, and your throbbing shaft fought against the constricting walls of her asshole, but for either of you, it was never enough—you needed to be as deep inside her as possible. At the tail end of one of her endless bounces, you reached up to grab her oiled ass and pulled her body back as you plunged the full length of your shaft deep inside her asshole in one continuous stroke.
“Oh shit!” Gahyeon cried out, those tight walls grasping your cock with somehow more force after feeling your full length buried inside her. She rolled those magical hips to match your thrusts, that ass eager to take every last inch, and she tried her absolute best to accommodate your size.
“Does my little slut like bouncing that fat ass on my dick?” you asked, returning the reins back to Gahyeon, who took the initiative and slammed her cheeks down on your thick, rigid cock, every bounce devouring you balls deep.
“Yes, daddy! Oh god, it’s so amazing. You know I ride dick better when it’s in my ass.” Gahyeon demonstrated by using your cock to ride with more fervor, that plump ass engulfing your stiff erection as her hips moved in powerful circles, drawing you deeper under her euphoric spell.
All your focus stayed on Gahyeon’s body, how sweat collected on her back, and the hypnotic way her round wet cheeks rippled as she fucked herself on your shaft without interruption. As her ass choked your cock, you did nothing but lay back in the sheets and let her handle everything, the cadence of her careless bounces mirroring the bed that creaked in protest.
“Fuck, you’re so tight, so perfect—god, that tight little asshole feels incredible. Look how well you take me, keep going,” you said, demanding in your tone, and now that Gahyeon had been properly opened up, she had an obligation to take your whole length into her hot little asshole as she rode you like crazy, accelerating her hips, utterly consumed by lust. Even when the bounces of her ass became relentless, it didn’t dampen the unimaginable bliss; if anything, it planted the seeds of desire further.
“My body is yours, daddy. Use it, use me as you like,” Gahyeon said, looking back with her lips curled wider than ever. Words like that made your swelling erection throb like crazy, the pleasure of your shaft buried in her suffocating ass almost too much to handle.
Seizing control of Gahyeon’s tight frame, she lifted her bare feet and placed them on your thighs as you took hold of her hips, not wanting to waste any time as you remained lodged within that perfect plump ass.
“You feel that hard cock throbbing inside you? That’s what’s gonna destroy this amazing ass. I’ll make sure my pretty slut can’t walk for a whole fucking week.”
Gahyeon wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less, nor would she if you granted her any mercy while hammering your dick into her asshole, making every thrust that you delivered count. Firmly in charge of her body, you pounded away at that tight muscular ring, using your cock to gape Gahyeon’s little hole until it no longer struggled to fit your length, but she craved more, much more, and you reciprocated her desires.
“Yes, daddy, yes! Fuck, that cock stretches me so well, use me all you want,” she whimpered, the strength in her voice fading from all the begging. Just like in the office, Gahyeon understood her duties in the bedroom, knowing how to be an outlet for your lust, and how to be a proper fucktoy. There would never be any doubts about how aggressive you would be with her, so after sliding your hands under her sweaty thighs, you pushed her legs up into a V shape, locked your fingers around her neck, then lifted her small frame into the air, giving your all into every unforgiving thrust.
“Oh fuck—fuck, fuck, holy shit—” Gahyeon cried out as you fully put her into the full nelson position and hammered her ass relentlessly like she was a fleshlight. As you used her incredible ass in the manner that she loved, taking absolute control, nothing could match the absolute bliss that filled your body, and you were lucky to pound something so perfect.
If only you could see the way her eyes rolled back in her head while you rammed her ass without mercy—but hearing her boisterous cries of pleasure would have to do. In an instant, your hips released all their energy stored up for the last several moments, and you drilled Gahyeon’s asshole with so much vigor that her moans turned into loud, frantic screams—one of your favorite sounds from her lips.
“Oh god, don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop, ruin my little asshole, oh fuck!” Gahyeon managed to utter out before her words became little more than a slur of curses, unraveling underneath your unrelenting onslaught as the intense pleasure in your cock turned into an addiction, one that you would fuel by treating her body just like a toy, giving her the anal pounding she so richly deserved.
Despite how forceful your thrusts were, nothing would stop Gahyeon from begging for more, and you could drill her ass indefinitely. But as much as you craved to keep her suspended in that position, the creeping urge for release began to take over, so involuntarily you would oblige it, savoring how helpless Gahyeon remained while you kept her asshole filled to the hilt.
When your shaft finally slipped from her ass, you beamed with pride at how gaped you made her asshole, and Gahyeon fell to her side, able to catch her breath. But that respite wouldn’t last long, since she couldn’t stand not having your cock inside in some way, and slurped on your Gahyeon-flavored tip once more.
“God, you’re an insatiable little slut, aren’t you? You like tasting your ass?”
“Mhmm,” Gahyeon hummed, and planted a big wet kiss on your tip before she shoved your cock back inside her warm mouth, down to the base in one stroke. She indulged her hunger, sucking you off while tasting herself on your cock, her throat aching to drain everything from you.
You weren’t finished with her yet, left empty by every second that went by without the suffocating grip of her ass. “You want me to keep pounding this tight little asshole?”
Gahyeon hesitated for a moment, too involved with slobbering on your cock before withdrawing her pouty lips. “Want you to cum again. Wanna feel you in my ass again, my little hole hasn’t been stretched enough.”
“Such a slut for this dick, aren’t you?” you asked, while Gahyeon nodded in agreement, shifting to the center of your messy bed sheets, her legs spread wide as she rubbed her cunt, unsatisfied with how much time she had spent empty. Her impatience grew, but you did little but watch, indulging yourself in her divine physique, focused on every movement she made while touching herself.
“Come on, daddy. Shove that big cock back inside my ass.”
You rubbed her thighs, and planted gentle kisses on their pillowy softness while spreading more lube inside her, using it as an excuse to tease her further. “Needy fucking brat.”
“And your needy little brat needs another pounding…”
In one movement, you lifted Gahyeon’s creamy legs into the air, and rested her ankles on your shoulders. No doubt you wouldn’t have much left in the reserves, but just to see the frustration on her face, you stalled while you stroked yourself, teasing her warm little hole with your swollen cockhead.
"Daddy, pleeease—please fuck me," she pleaded, with a drone of whines, your cock nudging against the inviting warmth of her ass. But you still hesitated—not for Gahyeon’s sake, but for yours, and needed a moment to prepare—to prepare for that insane tightness again. With one hand lining up your shaft, the other stroked her beautiful legs, until you were ready to fill her back up again.
You waited for one more whiny plea, one more ‘daddy’ while keeping track of the desperation in her eyes, then impaled your entire shaft into that tiny, unyielding hole. Her back arched right off the bed upon re-entry, and you swore the second time felt like an even tighter squeeze, fitting perfectly inside her. “Shit, Gahyeon—”
That tight hole tempted you into an early climax, but you fought back against those urges, and one stroke at a time, pumped into Gahyeon, groaning at that familiar tightness.
“Daddy, why aren’t you pounding me?” Her lips pouted in her usual manner, but you ignored her and focused on setting the pace, allowing only the head of your cock to disappear inside her asshole as she desperately squeezed you.
“Let me feel it all, daddy. Split me open.”
Regardless of the look on her face, you wouldn’t give in that easily. “Be a good girl and rub your clit for me. Nice and slow.”
You didn't take your eyes off Gahyeon as she obeyed, using her fingers to rub slow, lazy circles against her sensitive swollen clit, and bit her lip at the added stimulation. Her cute whimpers guided your hips and urged you to sink deeper inside her, your strokes quickening as you filled more hard flesh inside that tight hole. Every expression her cute face made became a contortion of lust, and you couldn’t keep yourself from bottoming her out once more, returning back to your animalistic desires.
“Daddy, just like this, you’re so deep, need more…”
Holding back would no longer be an option when the urgency in Gahyeon’s eyes mirrored your own, and you didn’t hesitate to keep your length buried inside her ass, not even giving a chance for her to adjust to your size, pumping against the harsh grip around your cock.
Snatching whatever pleasure she could while Gahyeon kept playing with her clit, you rammed her little asshole without any cares or limits, thrusting with your hips in an erratic rhythm, more and more uncontrolled with every stroke.
“Oh god, daddy, that feels so good. Stretch me with that thick cock, pound my asshole, fuck me hard!” The noises from her lips became borderline unintelligible as your thrusts increased tenfold, hard enough to make her big breasts bounce, and made her fingernails dig into the sheets she squirmed underneath. Her constant moans and whimpers spurred you on as you refused to let your cock stay outside longer than necessary, and held her legs together, hugging them tightly as you began to lose all sense of self-control.
“Fuck, this tight asshole makes my cock feel so fucking good, Gahyeon. Gonna pound you so hard, gonna fuck you like a little slut deserves,” you said as your shaft moved in frenzied, harsh strokes, hitting the right angle, not neglecting a single sweet spot.
Not letting up your pace, you let those luscious legs fall from perched on top of your shoulders, then spread them wide as they could go, giving yourself a better view of your cock spearing her asshole.
At this point, you weren’t so much as fucking Gahyeon anymore, but using her body as just a cocksleeve, a toy, a container for your uncontrollable lust. Through all that lust, you were so lost in the tightness of her ass that any words that exited her mouth sounded miles away, but still heard the faint murmur of pleas. You played with handfuls of her delicious bouncy tits, fingertips trailing up to her collarbone, and then you wrapped a hand around her throat, squeezed with just enough pressure.
“Harder, choke me harder, daddy. Choke your little slut.”
If there were any remnants of control left, Gahyeon relinquished it all when you squeezed her neck harder, and those large eyes spoke more than words ever could. Her asshole tightened more than you could fathom, just like your hand around her throat, and you had no qualms about how rough you were fucking Gahyeon, nor the red marks that would be left displayed on her bare flesh for everyone in the office to see in the morning.
Not that your coworkers didn’t already know how rough you pounded Gahyeon in the various rooms and spaces around the workplace—if only everywhere else had as much soundproofing as your office did.
But nothing would deter you from pounding Gahyeon’s wrecked asshole, when the constant uncontained lust in her eyes began to boil over, long past the point of no return. The pressure built up in her body faster than expected as she frantically worked two fingers deep inside her cunt, and without warning—Gahyeon sprayed your abdomen with a sudden influx of liquid, an orgasm so intense, so overwhelming, that it left her body shaking, desperate for more.
“There you fucking go, Gahyeon. Good girl, cum for me one more time, can you do that?”
Gahyeon could only nod.
“Fuck!” she cried out, and did just that without hesitation, letting out another deluge of squirt from her greedy cunt that coated your lower body in her slick arousal. Her head fell back onto the mattress, quivering thighs spread wide, while you prepared to take your own climax.
“Good little slut.”
“D-daddy, I want your cum too—want it so bad,” Gahyeon said, with pleading eyes, and soon enough she would get it, every last little drop. You doubled down on your pace, and plunged your length into her asshole for as long as you could, savoring the last clenches while pumping into her until your climax was too strong to resist.
All you could withstand were a few more thrusts, so after pulling out of her ass, you spilled hot cum all over her tight stomach, and covered her supple tits with the remainder of your milky load as Gahyeon groaned from below with each thick spurt that fell on her bare, sweaty body.
Equally exhausted, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Gahyeon’s perfect body used as your canvas, staring at her glazed breasts that heaved hypnotically, and her cute, cum-covered tummy that became the perfect target for your load. Lusting for more, she stroked your sensitive cock, almost disappointed when you were milked dry, but kept pumping, desperate to extract one more leftover drop.
“Gahyeon—”
“Yes, daddy?”
You couldn’t find the words you wanted to say, but continued to stare over Gahyeon's body, panting hard while you took in every tiny detail, every droplet of sweat on her pretty, pale skin.
“Wanna go again?” Gahyeon asked, and while you didn’t exactly have much gas left in the tank—you couldn't find a good reason to say no.
"Needy brat."
"I'm your needy brat. Come on, daddy. I know you wanna go again. Press my tits against the glass, get them all wet and soapy for you. You’re still so hard—I know you’d love a nice soapy titfuck,” she said, massaging your balls, teasing them with her fingers like she was trying to get them to fill back up.
Just the thought ensured your erection wouldn’t falter, and well, you couldn’t ever refuse an offer like that. With a grin, you hoisted Gahyeon off the mattress to her feet, legs unsteadily underneath her.
She still had your load painted on her body drenched in sweat when she stood upright, but wore it proudly, just like the grin on her features. “I’ll go get the water running.”
Neither of you would spend that much time getting clean, because you knew the moment you stepped inside the hot shower, Gahyeon’s hands would be all over your body, doing way more than soaping you up. But you were used to that.
Nothing could really ever quench Gahyeon’s bottomless libido, anyway.
#dreamcatcher smut#gahyeon smut#kpop smut#male reader#reader insert#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#dreamcatcher#gahyeon
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Tattoo • Jayson Tatum
Pairing: Jayson Tatum and Tattoo Artist Reader
Word Count: 2,290
Summary: Tattoo artist reader finally gets the chance to have her first big name client in her chair, Boston Celtics star Jayson Tatum.
A/N: Think of this as tension but like good tension, lol . Also, I swore I had posted this. But I didn’t realize I didn’t finish it but I was so close to having it done! What a treat to have something to post for now☺️☺️ plus I wrote it over a year ago so ages might have changed but oh well. Undecided on how many parts quite yet, just hope you enjoy for now ���️
• • •
You had a lot of clients these days in the shop you worked at now. As the word got around that you were one of the up and coming new and talented artists, you gained more and more clientele as time went on. But there was one client who you just could not wait to see at the shop again. But this time around, you had hoped he would sit in your chair for his next appointment.
It was 11am now. Today when you opened up shop by yourself, you had to sweep and sanitize surfaces. Once you finished, you sat and waited for your first client to walk in.
You heard the familiar ring of the swinging door and you looked up, feeling pleased it was exactly who you wanted it to be.
“Hello,” you greeted him cheerfully as he walked through the door, all alone. You studied his outfit for a moment. It was casual and comfy. You wondered what he had planned on getting done today.
“Hello… Is Steve in today?” He asked, looking down at the glass table that displayed and array of different jewelry in between the two of you before looking up again.
“Oh- um no, not yet. Not until 1… how can I help you?” You asked, trying to resist the urge to sound eager.
“Ohhh, okay I’ll just come back then,” he stated. He was very soft spoken.
“You sure? Did you want to just book a consultation with him in the meantime?” You asked him while turning the front desk computer on to pull up the scheduling system. “He might have something booked at the time he comes in, I’ll have to check.”
“Ahhh-well I’m looking for a certain type of piece to be drawn up…” he began as he started pulling out his phone. You watched him as he focused on scrolling through his phone with his lip pulled between his teeth and eyebrows scrunched.
“This picture but… I want it to say ‘like father, like son,’ underneath.”
You held his phone and scanned the photo for a moment.
“That’s sweet,” you replied, “did you want to just sent it over to the store email?”
“Sure,” he nodded.
“You need it?” You asked him.
“Nah, I still got it,” he stated, keeping his eyes locked on his phone.
When he sent it and you pulled it up, you admired the photo.
“That’s my son,” he stated proudly.
“That’s so sweet,” you grinned, admiring the photo. You gave him a price estimate and he shrugged and agreed to it.
“Will you be doing it then?” He asked you softly and you smiled at how sweet he seemed.
“Depends… Do you trust me?” You asked while looking up at him. Your tone came out more flirty than you intended. You almost missed his small eyebrow raise.
“I mean- if you got the job here I’d hope you have some skill,” he responded and you weren’t sure if you should be offended or not. You crossed your arms and listened to him as he continued.
“It’s just the placement… I didn’t want to make a woman uncomfortable… I wanted it right here,” he stated, patting on his thigh.
“I’ve unfortunately tattooed penis’s before… so at this point I don’t think it can get worse than that,” you shrugged and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“If it’s cool with you,” he shrugged. “I’m Jayson by the way.”
“Y/N,” you responded nonchalantly. “And hey- it’s my job and it’s on your body. Are you comfortable with it?” You asked him and he nodded.
“Okay, I’ll just get this drawn up then but before that, I’ll just need you to sign some papers.”
••���
He shook off his sweatpants and readjusted his shorts he had underneath before he sat down. You felt your throat get dry in response and caught yourself before you started staring for longer than you should.
When he sat back in the chair you remembered how you’d have to keep it professional. Reminding yourself that he was just another client. A really well-known individual who smelled amazing the closer you got to him. And clients should not make your heart beat and hands sweaty because it was your job to stay still and focused while you worked.
You watched yourself, avoiding any fumbling before he thought any worse of you.
You performed the usual procedure as you sanitized his skin and shaved the hair off the area. You focused on the spot avoiding eye contact with him at first until you relaxed. You were pleased at how calm he seemed and you looked forward to gaining his trust in the process.
You regained focus again, gathering together all your tattoo guns and ink included. You kept your cool and managed to get a conversation going with him.
“So what if I told you you were my first real person I’ve tattooed?” You asked him and he chuckled softly, shaking his head.
“I wouldn’t believe you, I was looking at some of your work in the front while you drew it up, You’re really talented,” he smiled and you quickly looked down before his smile became the next distraction you didn’t need right now.
“Well thank you… I could say the same to you,” you responded as you began filling the tattoo gun with ink.
“Plus, I think I’ve seen you in here before, you getting your reps in,” he responded and you couldn’t help but stop what you were doing to look up and smile at him for a moment. From this angle, he was looking down at you with his big brown eyes. His broad frame intimidating yet calm.
“Oh yeah? Well, I started a couple months ago. Have you always come to this shop?” You asked nonchalantly even though you hoped and prayed he would be back at some point.
“Yeah, since I started living here so, a couple years now,” he yawned. “Steve’s my guy.”
“Hmm,” you hummed in response as you continued inking up his legs, small grin on your lips. “Not for long.”
You were working your way down and needed to get closer to the side of his inner thigh. As you began to tattoo that spot, you noticed him shift in his seat a bit, gripping onto the chair more now.
“You okay?” You asked him.
“Yeah, yeah, might need a break at some point though,” he stated. “My legs are usually… sensitive.”
You smirked up at him. “Break already?”
“Ha-ha,” he replied teasingly. “It’s not an easy pain.”
“I understand. “You need anything right now?” You asked him, your flirtatious eyes were clear now, and he grinned slowly.
“I’m good, for now,” he replied, scanning your expression. “Thanks.”
You continued your work with a great deal of silence between the two of you. He remained focused on his phone and you remained focused on your piece.
“Steve might kill me for cheating on him…” he stated, breaking the silence after almost a half an hour.
“What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him… for now,” you smirked, looking up at him.
“Well well well, how’d you get the apprentice to convince you to give you a tattoo?” You heard Steve’s voice ask.
“Ahhh what’s good Steve,” Jayson greeted him with a handshake.
“I’m just messing, she’s amazing that Miss. Y/N, but don’t go stealing all my clients now,” he said with a wink before walking off to the back.
Steve had been an incredible mentor and you were grateful for how much he had taught you.
Jayson gave him a friendly smile and it was quiet again between the two of you now as you made progress on his piece.
“So about that penis you tattooed before…” Jayson began and you quickly shot your head up at him at his curiosity.
“What’d they get tattoo on it? He finished.
“You won’t believe this but… they wanted a tiny dick on their dick,” you replied and he laughed.
“What the hell,” he laughed, bringing his palm to his forehead before running his fingers through his hair.
“Yeah, um-“
“Did it have to be- uh… stiff?” He asked and you couldn’t help but giggle at how curious yet uncomfortable he was.
“ It was on an off,” you replied quickly.
“My god- I’m so sorry,” he said while shaking his head.
“It’s okay,” you giggled. “I still love this job. Everyday is different. And when I get to do meaningful tattoos like this one- it means a lot.”
He smiled at you before licking his lips, eyebrow twitching at the pain of the needle.
You felt your throat dry at the sight as you swallowed before you spoke. “How old is your son?”
“He’s 5 now,” he replied.
“And how old are you?”
“24,” he replied.
“Ahh, me too!” You grinned, mentally slapping yourself for saying that.
“How’d you get to practice?” He asked.
“Lots of drawing… a lot of it.”
“Hmm,” he responded, keeping his eyes locked on the needles going in and out of his skin.
“What about you? What made you so good at basketball?”
“Same thing, practice,” he chuckled. “It was my dream to play since I was a kid.”
“That’s sweet, you should be proud of yourself,” you smiled, continuing to work your magic.
“I am,” he smiled confidently. “Wait- how’d you know that’s what I do?”
“Well um, your height was kind of a dead giveaway. Plus, I don’t live under a rock.”
“Damn,” he chuckled. “Okay miss.”
“Haha my fault, I didn’t mean to come off sassy. Is this your hometown?”
“No, I grew up in Missouri. What about you?”
“I’m from here, yeah,” you replied.
“You like it?” He asked.
The curiosity in his tone made you feel warm inside.
“It’s okay, but I love that with this job I really could go anywhere. So I can’t wait to get out of here.”
He chuckled in response, unable to give a good answer as his face scrunched in discomfort as you dragged the needles through his leg.
“You’re doing great,” you smiled up at him. The slight gleam in his eye increased by your encouragement.
“I’m going to have to get more in between your legs for your inner thigh…are you comfy with that?”
“Yeah that’s okay,” he replied quickly.
He spread his thighs out and you slowly admired his tan and lean long legs through your lashes and the way they looked in your chair. You felt your cheeks grow warm as you tried to regain focus on the tattoo. Yeah his leg was blistering red from the endless stabbing of the needle but he looked incredibly fit. You wondered what his body looked like under that fabric.
“So do you have a boyfriend?” He asked, snapping you out of your thoughts.
“W-what?” You asked, shutting off the needle to make sure you heard him correctly.
He chuckled nonchalantly, “I said do you have a boyfriend? I mean, it must be kinda tough tattooing other guys the way you said you do and him not being jealous,” he chuckled, scanning the look on your face as you loosened up.
“Oh- haha, right,” you nod. “No, I’m very much single.”
“Oh, I see,” he responded with a nod, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth in a thoughtful manner. “Sorry- that was kind of a personal question.”
“It’s fine,” you smiled sweetly. “Do you have a girlfriend? It must be hard for her watching you get all the attention from women,” you smirked to yourself without looking up from the ink, dabbing it and wiping it as you continued.
“No, I’m also very single. Pretty focused on the game right now and taking care of Deuce,” he replied calmly.
“Hmm, I have a hard time believing that,” you chuckled, standing up to stretch your limbs for a moment.
“Why’s that?” He questioned, smirk tugging at his lips and he crossed his arms. His golden skin almost glowing against the hoodie color he wore.
“There’s not a doubt in my mind there’s not a woman in your life right now,” you retort, taking a sip from your water.
You had always suspected that NBA players are exactly that as you’ve seen; players. From long conversations you’ve overheard at the shop of men talking about all the women they dated. He was definitely capping.
“Well, I’ve dated a couple of women, for sure. I’m not a perfect man. There’s women out there who want you for who you are or just want you for your money, a chance at fame. It’s an unfortunate circumstance to be in, especially in my position.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say unfortunate is the right word,” you replied and soon regret it. You don’t know what it’s like to be in his shoes and yet, here you are challenging him.
“Oh you think so?” He smiled playfully. “How would you describe it then?”
“Well, I guess I wouldn’t fully understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but it must suck only being wanted for your money.”
“Yeah, well,” he exhales. “There’s only so much you can do. I can either keep searching or just wait for the right one to come along. When you’re basically defined by your financial status, everything is so different.”
You nod in agreement, unsure on how you got on a topic so deep.
“Well, you’re still young. There’s time,” is all you can say. How far do you push it with a guy you just met but no so much about already?
“Yeah,” he lets out a big sigh. “Not gonna lie I’m feeling a little nauseous.”
“Did you eat?” You giggled.
“Not enough,” he chuckled.
“Let’s take a break then,” you smiled.
•••
Lit lit. I loved this. Still figuring out where I want to go with it but I’m excited for this new beginning 😊😊
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I am so, so sorry. 697 words, Coffee Shop AU, strangers to lovers, first date
She settles into a window seat with her laptop and cup. The steam from it rises into the sunlight, tinted aqua by the sheer curtains, and curls on invisible currents. There’s not too much chatter for 10:00 am, but it’s the perfect amount of background noise as she opens up her email and gets to work reviewing all her notes for the latest client.
There’s just the basic information so far. She’d only questioned the client yesterday, so now it’ll be on to finding witnesses. Standard break-in. Curiously, only an expensive watch was missing. The safe in the bedroom was never touched, nor were any of the artisan vases on the mantle.
“It was a gift from my past marriage,” the client had said. She’s got one guess off the bat of what happened to the watch. Wife, watch, garbage truck. But saying so on nothing more than a well-experienced but still-unfounded prediction is bad detective work, so here she is poring over the documents.
She’s just finished rereading the client’s testimony when there’s a commotion at the front counter. A woman stands there, coffee in one hand outstretched, lid in the other as she waves it angrily. Her voice grows louder the more incensed she gets, and soon every word out of her mouth can be clearly heard by everyone in the room. The poor barista is new and looks terrified.
When it’s clear the woman is not going to stop her tirade any time soon, she gets up to go help the barista. Someone else seems to have the same idea, as another woman joins her on the way up to the counter.
“Hey, what’s up with your coffee?” she asks.
The yelling woman pauses for just a second, then turns and starts up again.
“I ordered a venti macchiato with oat milk and this is NOT a venti,” she rants.
The woman who also walked up is unimpressed, but waits for the yelling woman to pause to breathe before speaking. “They switched to different cups last week,” she says coolly. “That’s the new venti cup.”
Venti Macchiato looks down at her cup, then back to Cool Woman, caught off guard.
Cool Woman just raises an eyebrow.
“Well, a warning or something would’ve been nice,” Venti Macchiato snips, and then she turns on her heel and walks out.
“Are you alright?” Cool Woman immediately turns to the barista and asks.
“Fine, fine, thank you,” she says. “Can I get you something? On the house.”
Cool Woman hums. “How about one of those muffins?”
As the barista gets the muffin for Cool Woman, she heads back to her seat at the window. On to the evidence. No broken locks, no broken windows. The wife is looking ever more suspect.
“This muffin is huge. Want to share it?” Cool Woman sets the plate on her table with a smile. She’s beautiful, sitting in the soft blue light.
“I’d love to.” She sets her laptop aside and picks off a piece. It’s banana. Not her favorite, but it’s a small price to pay for having this stranger at her table.
“Nothing like being screamed at to start off your morning, yeah?” Cool Woman says wryly.
“It’s a cup, you know? No need to get all up and arms about it. Maybe try politely asking for a new one, or just drinking it,” she rambles.
Cool Woman is just as cool as she seems. As noon approaches, they talk about their jobs (attorney and private investigator. How similar) and find their love for video games in common. She finds that she could sit there all day just talking, but she realizes she has a witness appointment in half an hour, and it takes 20 minutes to get there.
“I’m really sorry, I have to go to an appointment,” she says as she stashes her laptop in her bag.
Cool Woman smiles. “No problem. Hey, maybe we could get lunch some other time.”
She nods and scrambles for her notebook, scribbles her phone number down, and holds it out. “I’d like that.”
“Hey, wait!” Cool Woman calls.
She turns.
“I never got your name.”
“layton-heritage-posts.”
Cool Woman smiles. “aceattorneyheritageposts.”
@aceattorneyheritageposts HERITAGE BLOG YURI IS REAL!
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Locked In Mind
Robert Fischer (Inception) x female Reader
note: Welcome to my third Cillian Character fanfic, hope you like it :) I love plots like Shutter Island and tried to do something similar here & it‘s also a story about parasocial relationships and unrequited love.
summary: The reader is hopelessly in love with her boss Robert Fischer, but he doesn't seem to be interested in her. By an unexpected coincidence, they meet in the city and his sudden intense affection for her confuses her. The reader begins to suspect that something is wrong, and when she finally uncovers the truth about her encounters with Fischer the heartbreaking reality is revealed to her.
word count: 5000+
Masterlist
warnings: mental illness, depression
you don‘t have to watch the movie to understand the story.
It was just half past seven when she heard the familiar footsteps in the corridor approaching the office next door. A key was inserted into the lock and a moment later the door opened.
Glancing around to make sure her workspace wasn't too messy, she threw an old paper cup into the bin before her boss poked his head through the door.
"Good morning, Miss YN, so busy already?" he asked with a tired smile. "It doesn't reflect well on me as a boss to have my assistant here before me. I'm sorry, Monday mornings are always a bit stressful for me."
"No problem, Mr Fischer. I've already sorted the mail for you, it's on your desk," she said kindly, watching him as he took off his coat and hung it on the coat rack, a little damp from the rain.
"Thank you, I can count on you."
He was a very elegant, handsome man, about ten years her senior, with dark hair, blue eyes, high cheekbones and an elegant black suit. She must have stared at him a little too long, because he turned to her with a questioning smile.
Immediately her cheeks flushed and she turned back to her computer screen, but by then Mr Fischer had already approached her and placed some documents on her desk. "Please scan them all and email them to Mr Parker, he's been waiting for them for days," he said to her. It would be best if we sat down together later and quickly discuss my tasks for today, there is a lot to do. If I'm not mistaken, I have a client meeting at three today.
"At two, sir," she corrected him, handing him a planner with today's date thickly underlined.
He started to grin. "You see, this is exactly why I have an assistant."
Fischer disappeared into his office.
She sighed slightly and went to work scanning the documents. She had been working for Fischer Morrow, one of the world's largest energy companies, for barely a month. Their headquarters had moved from Sydney to London after the death of their CEO, Maurice Fischer. Her current boss, Robert Fischer, was a direct descendant.
She liked Fischer Jr a lot. He was friendly, supportive and didn't get angry when things didn't go to plan. But in some ways he always seemed so unapproachable. For example, he never talked about his private life and YN had no idea who he was outside of work. Then again, he was her boss and his private life was none of her business. But deep down she admitted that she was very interested in him.
The days flew by and she finally felt as if she had been employed by Fischer Morrow for an eternity. But who Robert Fischer really was remained a mystery.
One evening, as she was about to leave, she quietly opened the door to Fischer's office. He was sitting in front of his computer, his chin resting on his hands. "Have a nice evening, Mr Fischer." He jumped slightly, obviously not having heard her come in, but then he smiled. "Thank you, you too."
YN looked at her watch. "It's almost half past seven, don't you want to finish your work soon? Don't you have a wife waiting for you?"
Mr Fischer shrugged. "I've been divorced for a few years now, and I only see my daughter at weekends. The only thing waiting for me is an empty, dark apartment."
YN held her breath. It was the first time he had told her anything about his private life. But in the same second, he seemed to regret his words.
"No one waits for me either," she said. "Except for my cat."
Fischer raised an eyebrow with a smile. "At least that's something."
Finally she said goodbye and left the office. But all the way home, she kept thinking about her conversation with Fischer.
Was he perhaps as lonely as she was?
Tired, YN lay in bed. She didn't even have the strength to change her clothes and remove her make up. Although she wanted nothing more than to get out of that itchy, uncomfortable dress and tights. A soft meow sounded beside her and she felt something soft brush against her arm. Smiling, she pulled the cat closer and buried her face in its white fur.
Since leaving her small home village for London, she had no one to talk to. Her old friends had all left her and moved on with their own lives. Robert Fischer was the only one she spoke to regularly, though it was far from a friendship. With the cat in her arms, she turned to the other side. But what if she had feelings for him?
Maybe she should tell him. But wasn't that too much? He was still her boss, after all, and there were probably plenty of women who were interested in him.
She quickly pushed the thought aside and closed her eyes.
Robert Fischer turned curiously when he heard the quick clicking of heels in the corridor. Panting, his assistant opened the door and dropped her bag on the desk.
"Miss YN, are you okay?"
Her hair was messy, her coat hung loosely over her shoulders as if she hadn't had time to put it on properly, and her lipstick was a little smudged.
"I… overslept," she said, panting. "I'm sorry."
Fischer looked at her with a raised eyebrow. "It's okay. But it shouldn't happen again."
"Of course not, sir," she replied immediately.
He quickly disappeared into his office and returned with a thick stack of papers and a folder.
"Would you be so kind as to sort these documents alphabetically for me? They've been on my desk for days. I know it's not an exciting task."
She nodded and took the heavy pile from his hand. Fischer thanked her and hurried back to his office.
Sighing, she set to work. But with each page, she found her concentration fading and her mind wandering. Her head ached, her eyes burned and she felt incredibly tired. But she tried not to show it, kept working as hard as she could and finally put the sorted file back on Mr Fischer's desk.
Exhausted, she walked back to her office, sat down in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She was shivering and her ears were ringing. Was it because she had forgotten to take her medicine today?
"Miss YN?" she heard her boss' voice.
She turned immediately and forced a smile. "Yes, Mr Fischer?"
"I have an job interview scheduled for ten, would you be so kind as to prepare the conference room for it?"
"Of course, sir."
He stopped halfway and looked at Victoria questioningly. "Are you okay? You look so pale." She nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Everything's fine, Mr Fischer." Fischer looked at her, raised his eyebrows, then handed her the key to the meeting room and disappeared back into his office.
A strange feeling of dizziness spread through her head as she walked down the long corridor leading to the conference rooms.
What was wrong with her today?
When it started to get dark outside, YN finally turned off her computer and grabbed her bag. The strange dizziness had improved during the day, leading her to conclude that she simply needed a break from work. Fortunately, it was Friday. She knocked gently on Fischer's door, as she always did before leaving, to wish him a pleasant evening. He was sitting there as usual, his chin resting on his hand, deep in thought. He glanced up briefly and nodded politely, noticing her in the doorway. He looked stunningly handsome today, even after this long and exhausting day.
"I didn't ask you how the job interviews went this morning," she asked curiously. Fischer shook his head. "Terribly," he said. "None of these people I'd want in my company." His voice was cold and dismissive, and for a moment she thought he was referring to her, even though she knew he meant someone else. She smiled awkwardly and shrugged slightly. "Well, maybe the next one will be better."
Fischer remained silent.
"Have a good weekend, Mr Fischer."
"You too, Miss YN." He gave her a friendly smile.
"Do you have any plans for the weekend? I know a good restaurant, would you like to join me?" The moment she realised what she had just said, she bit her lip, her face turning red. Had she completely lost her mind? She desperately hoped he hadn't heard what she'd asked, but it was too late. She could see Fischer raise his eyebrows in confusion and stare at her.
"No, Miss YN. I'm not interested. I keep my work and personal life strictly separate." She immediately looked down, embarrassed. Thoughts raced through her mind like a rollercoaster and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. "I'm sorry, Mr Fischer, I shouldn't have asked you that." She finally grabbed her bag and left the office without another word, feeling Fischer's gaze on her back.
It was drizzling lightly as she walked through the busy streets of London. The cold air did her good and she felt her head clear a little.
Why had she done this? It had been clear from the start that a man like him would reject her. But the words had come out of her mouth as if she had completely lost control. She felt a tear roll down her cheek and quickly wiped it away. She didn't want to have a mental breakdown in public, even though it felt like Fischer had torn her heart into a thousand pieces. Suddenly the strange dizziness returned and her vision blurred slightly. The sounds of London became muffled, as if she were incredibly far away.
Miss YN, wait!" she suddenly heard a voice behind her that seemed to be getting closer.
She turned around. The dizziness had disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Startled, her eyes widened as she saw the person in front of her - it was Mr Fischer. What was he doing here? Had he followed her? She tried to speak, but all she could manage was a hoarse stutter.
"I wanted to apologize, Miss YN. It wasn't very nice of me to brush you off like that," he said with a gentle laugh. His voice sounded strangely different, softer than usual. Wordless and spellbound, she stared into the pair of light blue eyes before her, apologetic and gentle in their expression. She knew Mr Fischer had blue eyes, but she'd never noticed how incredibly bright they were.
"It's okay, don't worry," she managed to say, her knees shaking with excitement.
"No, no, Miss YN. I'll think about the dinner offer, okay? Just because we work together doesn't mean we can't have dinner together, does it?" Fischer suggested, and she nodded slowly, then smiled.
Why this sudden change of mind?
"Well, see you soon." He waved goodbye and YN, still completely confused, raised her hand in response. But before she could form another thought, he had disappeared into the crowd.
Carefully, YN pressed the shutter on her old camera, focusing the lens on the small lake in front of her. Satisfied, she lowered it. She was confident that this snapshot would turn out well. This park was a place she often visited to clear her head and pursue her passion, photography, as it offered many beautiful subjects. Especially now, in autumn, when the trees were covered with colourful leaves and the silence was slowly descending, with only the occasional pedestrian passing by.
Her dizziness had eased a little, but not completely. Fortunately, it was Saturday and she had the whole day to herself. YN sat down on a bench under a tree that looked to be at least a hundred years old.
She sat there for a while, lost in thought. Eventually she got up and made her way to the West End. The streets of London were noisy and busy as she walked, looking for a warm place in a café and something to eat. Crowds of people rushed past her, music played from somewhere and loud voices filled the air. Exhausted, she rubbed her temples. Maybe she should have stayed home and rested.
Suddenly she held her breath as she spotted a familiar face in the crowd. Dark hair, high cheekbones and piercing blue eyes. Fischer. But before she could think, he had already noticed her and started to smile at her.
"Miss YN, how nice to see you! What a coincidence!"
It was the first time she had seen him in his casual clothes rather than one of his business suits. But this was no less elegant and stylish. He was wearing a well-fitting black coat, a grey knitted jumper underneath, black trousers and leather shoes. It was so strange to see him outside his office at Fischer Morrow Company. Suddenly he didn't seem so unapproachable and distant anymore.
"What are you doing here?" she asked curiously.
He paused for a moment. He seemed to be considering whether or not to tell her.
"I brought my little girl to her friend's house for a sleepover. She's been asking me for weeks because her mum won't let her."
"So you're a cool dad," YN replied.
Fischer rolled his eyes. "I'm the one who lets her get away with everything. We had to turn back twice because she realised she had forgotten her favourite stuffed animal and her toothbrush."
She laughed softly. In a strange way, she enjoyed him talking so openly about his life.
"Oh wow, that looks amazing. It's quite old, isn't it?" Mr Fischer pointed to the camera around her neck. "From the 1960s. But it takes incredibly good pictures for that time," she explained. Fischer seemed genuinely impressed. "Do you have more like it?"
"I have quite a few. From the 50s to the 80s, actually, and of course some modern digital cameras. Photography has been my passion since I was a child," she explained. Fischer looked at her with an interested smile. "So there's actually film in there that needs to be developed?" she nodded in confirmation. "Some photo shops still offer that service, yes."
Mr Fischer seemed genuinely interested in her hobby, asking her questions about it as they walked side by side through the streets of London. She felt incredibly comfortable in his presence and hoped he wouldn't leave so soon. Finally he pointed to the camera again. "Would you take a picture of me, please? I'd like a 60's style photo of myself." YN's heart began to race in her chest. What had he just said?
"Of course, Mr Fischer," she replied nervously. "Robert. My name is Robert," he replied. Suddenly, she stopped in her tracks, completely surprised. No one at Fischer Morrow Ltd called him by his first name, and outside the company she had only heard his uncle, Peter Browning, call him Robert.
"Let's find a nice spot for the photo," he said, letting his gaze wander until it settled on a beautiful fountain.
Carefully, she picked up the camera, took a few steps back and held it directly in front of Robert's face. "Smile, please," she instructed him, finally pressing the shutter.
A pedestrian who had just passed them looked at YN with a confused expression and shook his head. Frowning, she looked after him before carefully tucking the camera into her handbag.
Are you hungry?" asked Robert. "We could go to a restaurant."
Surprised, she looked at him. "I don't know…" she said hesitantly, chewing her lower lip. In fact, she had never expected to be asked such a question.
He looked at her with raised eyebrows and she could see the disappointment in his eyes. Finally, she worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.
"It's just… To be honest, you told me yesterday that you were someone who kept your work and personal life strictly separate. Maybe it would be better if we did. After all, I'm your employee."
As much as she wanted to spend time with him, she was afraid of developing any more feelings for him. Robert nodded slowly and shoved his hands into his coat pockets.
"I really like you. I just never wanted to show it, that's why I was so reserved with you and told you I wasn't interested in you".
She closed her eyes and let out a sigh as a ton of thoughts went through her head. Robert finally nodded at her with a slightly disappointed look on his face and turned on his heel.
"Wait!" she called after him.
He stopped immediately and looked at her hopefully.
"Let's give it a try, shall we?"
YN… is that a French name?"
Robert's voice sounded slightly tipsy as he grinned curiously at her, twirling his wine glass casually in his hands. The plate in front of him was empty and he had now carefully placed the cutlery on it, waiting for a waitress to take it away.
He had taken her to a rather fancy and expensive place, the walls were dark wood panelling, the chairs were covered in red velvet and soft jazz music was playing on one of the radios. Robert looked hauntingly beautiful that night. His skin seemed incredibly soft and flawless, his jawline even more prominent, and his blue eyes shone almost ghostly in the dim light, almost like he wasn’t real…
She smiled, nodded and took a sip from her glass. "My father is French. I grew up in France but moved to England when I was 15."
He nodded with interest, rubbing his chin with his forefinger.
"And you? I heard you're Australian," she asked curiously.
Robert laughed and ran a hand through his dark hair. "Well, my accent makes it obvious."
YN blushed and looked down at her plate. What a stupid question.
But Robert didn't seem to mind too much, because he started talking about his life in Sydney, how he had finally moved to London after his father's death, and she listened with interest.
But suddenly he stopped and looked at her thoughtfully. "But I'm probably just boring you."
YN immediately shook her head. "No, you're not," she told him. "I find it really interesting to find out all this about you."
At that moment a waitress came to their table with a smile and asked YN in a friendly tone if she had enjoyed her meal. But the waitress paid no attention to Robert, YN noticed with surprise. Perhaps she was just being extra polite to the lady.
YN's date pulled out a black leather purse and rummaged through it. Quickly, YN pulled a few notes out of the bag and handed them to the waitress. "Keep the change," she said.
The waitress looked at her with wide eyes, "Thank you, ma'am," she said gratefully, "have a nice evening.
Then she turned and left the table.
"You didn't have to do that," Robert said. "As a gentleman, it's actually my job to pay."
She shook her head in amusement. "I bet that's never happened to you before, has it?"
Robert shook his head and took the last drink from his glass. There was a moment of silence between them.
"All right. So what's the plan for the rest of the evening?"
She looked at him in surprise. As soon as he said the words, she felt a tingle in her stomach.
The church clock struck twelve as she crossed the street hand in hand with Robert. It was freezing, and she had pulled her scarf so far up her face that only her eyes and nose were visible. Her date looked at her with amusement. "Are you going to rob a bank?" he asked, laughing out loud.
"Shh!" she snapped at him, putting her fingers to his lips. "You'll wake up the whole neighbourhood."
Although it was quite dark and she could only make out Robert, she knew that his typical mischievous grin was back on his face. She pulled him firmly behind her until they reached the small white building.
"Is this where you live?" Robert asked.
She put her finger to his lips for a second time until Robert stopped talking and looked silently into her eyes. Her heart was pounding in her chest as she finally stood on her toes, put her arms around his neck and placed her lips on his. Robert returned the kiss without hesitation and gently pulled her into his arms. YN could hardly believe what was happening. It was everything she had secretly wanted for months. They remained like this for a moment before she finally let go of him and reached for her key.
She felt for Robert's upper arm and finally pulled him into her apartment, closing the door behind him. She immediately wrapped her arms around him and began to kiss him again. His lips were a little cold and tasted of wine. Together they stumbled backwards into her bedroom, taking off his coat, which she tossed carelessly to the floor.
Robert's fingers stroked carefully along her hip and fumbled a little with her belt while she was busy planting little kisses on his neck. With slightly trembling hands she pulled his jumper over his head and Robert took her hand.
"Are you nervous?" he wanted to know. She remained silent.
"Don't be," he whispered softly into her ear, taking her in his arms again and pulling her onto the bed. Breathing softly, she clung to his chest, leaned back and finally closed her eyes as she felt his warm skin against hers.
The sun shone through the half-open curtains, creating a narrow, bright streak across the floor. Blinking, she opened her eyes and stretched. But immediately a sharp pain shot through her head again and she held her forehead tiredly. Confused, she sat up and tried to remember what had happened yesterday.
But when she heard soft breathing next to her, she turned quickly and all the events of last night came back to her. Smiling, she looked over at Robert, snuggled up next to her in her beige blanket, sleeping peacefully. Tenderly stroking his messy hair, she lay down beside him again and then began to caress his chest. Perhaps what they had done was wrong. After all, they were two people who should never have fallen in love. But it had happened, and it felt so right. They remained in this position for some time, Robert asleep and YN lost in thought.
Her eyes swept through the bedroom until they settled on a small white box on her dresser. Quickly sitting up, she reached for it and put a small pill into her mouth. Eventually, Robert began to move a little beside her, opening his eyes tiredly. Smiling broadly, she gave him a small kiss on the tip of his nose.
"Good morning," she whispered.
"Good morning," Robert murmured in a raspy morning voice.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"Yes, wonderfully." He yawned loudly and took her into his arms as she laid her head lovingly on his shoulder.
"Wait, what time is it?" he suddenly wanted to know.
"Quarter past ten, why do you ask?" she replied.
"Shit," Robert muttered as he let go of the hug, jumped out of the bed and started to pick up his clothes, which were strewn all over the floor.
"Wait, wait, where are you going?" she asked, looking at him in confusion.
"I should've picked up my daughter by now," he replied, hurrying to get dressed.
Sighing, she pulled the blanket around her a little tighter. "Can't it wait? Can't you stay for breakfast?"
"I'm sorry, but I'm sure she's already waiting for me.“ Robert dodged her questions, grabbing his coat on the floor and sighing when he saw her disappointed look.
He walked slowly towards her, stroking her chin with his finger, and finally whispered: "We can catch up later." Then he put a soft kiss on her lips before turning around and disappearing through the door. She sank back into the pillows and pulled the blanket over her head.
The rest of Sunday flew by. Mostly because her mind was on Robert and she could hardly wait to see him again tomorrow at work. She had probably never looked forward to a Monday in her life as much as she did that day.
The next morning, YN carefully applied her lipstick and looked at herself in the bathroom mirror. She noticed that the collar of her white blouse was a little crooked and quickly adjusted it. She wanted to look her best for Robert today, so he wouldn't change his mind and lose interest in her.
Humming softly, she put on her black high heels and grabbed her handbag. She quickly put another pill into her mouth and put the box in her bag. Her headache was completely gone and her head finally felt clear and light again. In a good mood, she breathed in the fresh morning air and made her way to work.
Her heels clicked on the floor as she walked down the familiar corridor of Fischer Morrow. The lights were on in Robert's office. She ran a final hand through her hair, smoothed her blouse and opened the door to her own office.
The air was stuffy and hot. Coughing, she ran to the window and opened it.
"Good morning, Miss YN, I hope you had a nice weekend," a familiar voice sounded from behind her.
Startled, she turned to see Robert's face as he stuck his head through the door, as he always did.
Why didn't he call her by her first name? Confused, she stared at him, trying to form a clear sentence. "But… But… we spent it together…" her voice finally broke. Her head suddenly hurt again.
He seemed so different again. Not the Robert she had spent the weekend with, not the one who had apologised for being too rude to her, not the one who had made her laugh and told her about his life. He seemed more like the one she had worked with for months, the one who never revealed anything about himself.
"Miss YN? I haven't seen you since Friday, when you left my office after… asking me that question."
Her heart almost stopped. Suddenly her knees gave way and she sank to the floor.
"Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell?" Concerned, he bent down to her. "Do you want to go home and rest?"
She nodded slightly and wiped a tear from her eye, which had turned her fingers black from the carefully applied mascara. Then she got up and left the office.
At home, she lay motionless on her bed, tears streaming down her cheeks. She couldn't think straight and her throat felt incredibly dry. The door to her room, which was only ajar, opened gently and something small and white slipped through. Sniffling, she stretched out her arms and lifted her cat onto the bed.
Everything that had happened that weekend had been fake. She had made it all up. And all of this happened because she had forgotten to take the pills she was taking for her delusions. Robert hadn't really followed her on Friday evening; it was all a figment of her imagination. While his real self was still sitting in the office, probably not thinking about her at all. Everything suddenly made sense: why Robert looked a bit different, why his voice sounded different, the waitress who ignored him on Saturday because she couldn’t actually see him, the pedestrian who gave her a confused look because she was talking to herself while taking the photo.
The photo.
She immediately got up, put on her shoes and walked to the photo shop where she had left the film to be developed. Her heart raced as the staff handed her the envelope with the photos. Trembling, she finally grabbed the Saturday night photo, without looking at it herself, and held it up to the staff's face. "What do you see?" she asked.
The young man looked at her in confusion, but remained polite. "The fountain at Piccadilly Circus. Great picture, it turned out really nice."
"Anything else?" she asked.
"No, ma'am," he replied, and it felt like a slap in her face. Fischer had never been there with her. Only her lonely and sad mind had led her to believe that he was interested in her and loved her. Tears welled in her eyes and she left the shop without another word. When she got home, she immediately took the white box of pills from her handbag, rushed into the kitchen, opened the box and poured the pills into the bin.
Crying and with burning eyes, she finally lay down on her bed and buried her head in the pillow as her cat purred softly beside her. She must have stayed like that for hours, as the sun began to set again outside her window. When she finally lifted her head and wiped the tears from her face, she saw a dark-haired man sitting beside her bed, looking at her lovingly with his pale blue eyes. A smile suddenly appeared on her face and she began to laugh, pulling the man into a tight embrace.
some explanations because i know that story is kinda mind-fucking:
• Is Robert Fischer all a creation of the readers mind?
- No he actually exists, he’s her boss and she‘s in love with him, so she imagines dating him.
• When is he real, when is he fake?
- The version Robert Fischer in the office is real, he turns her down when she asks him out, leaving YN heartbroken. The moment she leaves the office, she starts to imagine what it would be like if he apologised to her, so the man who follows her is just her imagination. The real Robert Fischer is still in his office at Fischer-Morrow.
When she visits the city on Saturday and meets "Robert" and goes on a date with him, it's also just her imagination. That's why other people react to her with confusion, because she's basically talking to herself all the time. On Sunday morning, when she wakes up next to him, he's still fake. When she takes her pills, he quickly "disappears" (he says he has to pick up his daughter...) because they stop her delusions.
On Monday morning, when she gets back to her office, the real Robert Fischer is there again, who hadn't seen her since he had rejected her on Friday evening.
When she gets home, she throws away her pills and her delusions begin again. The man who sat next to her on the bed and comforted her is again the imaginary version of Robert.
#cillian murphy#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#cillian murphy x y/n#cillian murphy ff#robert fischer#Inception#robert fischer fanfiction
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Like a Dream
CW: language, sexual references, light drinking
AN: Happy Yulemas @goddess-aelin!! Or I guess New Year’s now… this is very late but I hope you enjoy it all the same, and I hope your holidays have been lovely ❤️
8047 words
“I’m sure you’ve wondering been wondering what this is about.”
Rowan shifted uncomfortably. Lorcan, his boss, had requested his presence in his office several hours ago, and the day had passed with relatively little worry.
Even upon seeing Aelin Galathynius, someone whom he very much did not want to be in the same room as, waiting in Lorcan’s office as well, he hadn’t felt concern. It was probably just an update to policy or something similar. Hell, maybe the coffee machine had broken and Lorcan wanted them to inform their departments.
But then Lorcan had greeted them, and asked them to sit, and stated that he knew they’d been curious about the topic of this summons.
And a pit of anxiety had opened in Rowan’s stomach.
Lorcan Salvaterre was not a man to make small talk. He didn’t wait for others, he didn’t bother with light conversation, and he wasn’t friendly.
Which meant he was about to tell Rowan and Aelin something that they wouldn’t like, and not a small thing like they’d have to coordinate a client together or share the break room sometimes, because Lorcan had no trouble breaking bad news. Something worse, something bad enough to have the bluntest man Rowan knew stalling to conversation.
Rowan took a deep breath and said, “What is it?” He didn’t dare look to Aelin beside him.
Lorcan leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desk. “You both know of Dorian Havilliard.”
Of course they did. He was one of the biggest names in romance writing in the country. Their publishing house had been trying to get him to switch over from Hamel Inc. for years, but they’d had no luck.
“Yes,” Aelin said, and Rowan jolted at the sound of her voice. He finally risked a glance and was met with startling blue eyes rimmed in gold.
Rowan looked away.
“Well, as you know, Terrasen Publishing has been working on him for years.”
Rowan’s fingers tapped against his thigh impatiently as Lorcan restated what he already knew.
“We’ve finally convinced him to discuss the possibility of switching over.”
Considering the meeting, Rowan was hardly surprised. It also made sense for the two of them to be here; Rowan was head of the editorial department and Aelin was his counterpart in publishing. Together, they represented most of the publishing house and were often paired together when it came to potential clients.
It was the easy explanation for this meeting that had Rowan on edge. This didn’t make clear Lorcan’s apprehension.
“And what do we need to do?” Rowan asked cautiously.
Lorcan sighed. “Mr. Havilliard is working on his next book. He predicts the first draft will be finished soon; he’s using his Yulemas vacation to get it completed. And he doesn’t want any delay on the editing process, which means if we haven’t convinced him to switch contracts by the end of his vacation, he’ll remain a part of Hamel Inc.”
A sinking feeling formed in Rowan’s gut.
“He’s leaving for his vacation tomorrow,” Lorcan continued, “and even if we could have managed a short meeting before then, he needs more time with us to discuss logistics and a contract for him. He needs time to see everything we have to offer.”
“I’m sure he’d be open to discussing it over Zoom or even email,” Aelin suggested, and from the waver to her voice Rowan guessed she’d caught on as well.
“Mr. Havilliard is traveling to a resort in the mountains for his vacation, where there will be no cell service. He says the lack of distraction helps him concentrate. He graciously offered two fully paid tickets for any of my employees who would like to join him. You two will be traveling with Mr. Havilliard on his Yulemas trip. You leave first thing in the morning.”
Silence washed over the office as the pair of them took everything in. Rowan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“I don’t recall expressing my desire to join him,” Aelin protested.
“Me neither,” Rowan managed.
Lorcan sighed once more. “Look, let’s face it. You two aren’t going home to your families for Yulemas and you don’t have any significant others to celebrate with. Everyone else, including myself, is not completely void of a social life and has plans for the holidays. You two are lonely as shit and I’m taking advantage of that.”
Aelin’s mouth had dropped open at some point during that little spiel but Rowan was used to Lorcan’s blunt transparency. He was honestly relieved that Lorcan had given up on trying to break it to them slowly. He liked the man, even—if he could manage to overlook the fact that he was being asked to spend his holidays on a work trip with his least favorite coworker.
Okay, maybe he didn’t like Lorcan so much after all.
“You can’t just,” Aelin spluttered, “I, my vacation, it’s my time off, you can’t…”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Galathynius, but this was his only offer and we’re in no position to deny him. If it helps, Mr. Havilliard alloted only a certain amount of time to meet with you as he wants most of the time to write his novel. And as I mentioned, he paid for the tickets and everything else that comes along with them. You’ll be spending most of your Yulemas holiday in a high-end resort doing whatever the hell you like. I’d say it’s a step up from whatever you were planning to do instead.”
Rowan leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Surely not both of us need to go.”
Lorcan glared at him. “Please explain to me the publishing process that Mr. Havilliard will be subject to.”
Rowan just blinked at him.
Lorcan turned to Aelin. “And do you know anything about the editing process?”
“You just… do grammar checks and stuff.”
Rowan cringed at the crass oversimplification of his job.
Facing both of them now, Lorcan said, “He needs every specific detail of every process. Neither of you can do that on your own. Both of you are going. That’s final. Now go home. I’m giving you the rest of the day off to pack, and I’ll email you the information of where you need to go tomorrow morning and at what time. Are we clear?”
Aelin nodded mutely. Rowan was pretty sure he felt himself do the same.
He lived in hell.
First he’d been transferred to a different publishing location six months ago as part of a promotion, only to find an enemy on the very first day. He’d smiled at her and was met with uncalled for distain and malice. The months had passed torturously slowly as the woman who’d shown him so much unkindness on the first day was constantly by his side, coordinating clients, attending work parties at his side, acting as a liaison. And throughout it all she was constantly either bickering with him, or ignoring him, or silently scowling at him. He just couldn’t figure her out.
But of course that wasn’t enough. No, now Rowan was being sent on a Yulemas vacation with Aelin, just the two of them and some eccentric smut writer who would be spending most of his time locked up in a room writing, which left Rowan and Aelin. In a resort with no cell service. Alone.
Only Hellas himself could have been so cruel as to put him in this situation.
—
Aelin dumped her bag in the back of the car with a little more force than necessary. She knew she was pouting, and she knew it wasn’t a good look on her, but how the hell else was she supposed to react to being shipped off on a work assignment for the entirety of Yulemas?
Of course they’d been given a rental car to drive together, just the two of them. Just Aelin and Rowan, a shitty GPS, a map for backup, and six months worth of loathing.
What fun.
“Are you ready?” Rowan asked.
Aelin looked up and was met with something slightly more passive than a scowl. She nodded, breaking eye contact, and slumped inside the passenger seat.
A moment passed before Rowan opened his door and got in the driver’s seat. Aelin didn’t look over, focusing out the window on some obscure building as he set up the GPS, then buckled in and put the car in drive.
This couldn’t possibly be more uncomfortable for her. All of this was just one more thing to torture her after another. But honestly, Aelin couldn’t say she didn’t deserve this. This was probably the gods’ way of cursing her for being such a jackass to Rowan that first day, and failing to apologize every day since.
Why couldn’t she just have the holidays to herself?
The first two hours passed with little fanfare. At one point Aelin had turned the radio on, almost driven insane by the silence, and the soft tunes of some laid-back pop music—not her first choice, but she wasn’t going to risk Rowan’s objection with anything more flamboyant—had helped to ease the tension.
At the halfway mark Aelin asked Rowan if he wanted to switch, but he gruffly told her the driving was a nice distraction. From what, he didn’t say.
So Aelin pulled out a book and spent the following hour consumed in the pages. The turns became sharper after that and she had to put her book away for fear of becoming carsick. Aelin then glanced at the GPS and saw their estimated arrival was still nearly an hour away.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to drive?” Aelin asked, desperate for something to do.
Rowan glanced over at her. “No thank you, I’m okay.”
Frowning, Aelin turned back to the window and watched the trees fly by. She eventually zoned out as the scenery became greener and the atmosphere much more frigid.
The road become steeper and icier, and their pace slowed to a crawl. Aelin’s boredom became unease, and she gripped the sides of her seat a bit tighter.
The remaining time passed uneventfully: no conversation, no accidents, no nothing except for silence and staring. Finding the resort was fairly simple, and parking was as well. The moment Rowan slid the gear into brake, every muscle in Aelin’s body relaxed. “Thank the gods,” she muttered.
Aelin climbed out of the car. The door shut with a satisfying slam. She stretched her legs, unsure of where they were meant to go from here. Before she could say anything to Rowan, a man exited the large log-themed building and began to make his way over. As he approached, Aelin realized that this was Dorian Havilliard, not some employee. He must have been notified of their arrival somehow; Aelin decided not to ask.
“Welcome!” he called, and Aelin couldn’t help but smile. She waved as he continued to step through the thin layer of snow that coated the ground.
Dorian definitely fit the manic writer stereotype; he wore a sweater vest and wire-framed glasses, and he actually had a pencil—did writers even use those anymore?—tucked behind his ear.
“You must be Ms. Galathynius and Mr. Whitethorn. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Pleasantries were exchanged, and Aelin felt she and Rowan did a decent job of pretending their Yulemas vacations hadn’t been stolen out from under their noses. Dorian’s grip on her hand lingered for a bit longer than necessary when they shook hands, but otherwise he seemed like quite the gentleman, and Aelin found herself thankful that at least their client wasn’t a douche. She’d had plenty of less-than-friendly clientele and was glad Yulemas wasn’t entirely ruined with another.
Really, Aelin hadn’t wanted to meet Dorian. She’d come face-to-face with several authors whose writing she enjoyed and their rudeness had ruined the reading experience for her. Hopefully Dorian remained polite and she didn’t lose the will to read his books.
“So when will we have our first meeting to discuss? Immediately?” Aelin asked.
“I figured you’d want the first day off as you’ve been traveling for so long.” Aelin really just wanted to get this over with, but she could hardly contradict the man. “You two will meet me in my room at nine tomorrow morning and we’ll begin. I’ll show you to your rooms in the meantime.”
Rowan thanked him while Aelin reached for her bags. Rowan turned around to do the same, but Dorian stopped them both.
“We can have someone take that in; you don’t need to worry about it.”
“Oh, that’s okay,” Rowan said. “I only have one bag.”
Aelin had two for the ten-day trip, but neither was particularly large. She certainly wasn’t in need of a fucking bellhop. “We’re good, really.”
Dorian protested a bit more—he didn’t seem like a man used to doing much on his own—but finally allowed them to take their own luggage. He led them inside a massive lobby/commons room that Aelin didn’t get much of a chance to take it in before they were whisked up a grand staircase, not stopping to check in. They followed Dorian down a well-lit hallway that was surely adorned with enough gold to buy a house. Finally, they stopped in front of a doorway near the end, spaced out from the handful of other doors they’d passed.
“Here’s you go.” Dorian inserted a key in the door and pushed it open.
“Oh, which of us…” Aelin trailed off when Dorian looked over.
“Whose room is that?” Rowan finished for her.
“Both of yours,” he replied simply.
No. This could not be happening. Dorian had said rooms, hadn’t he? Plural? Or maybe he meant rooms as in the bedroom and… the sitting room?
Apparently dissatisfied with their expressions, Dorian continued. “I arranged for one room to be shared; they had limited bookings left when Mr. Salvaterre and I arranged this agreement and I figured you wouldn’t mind, as there is plenty of space to claim as your own.”
As if they were in any position to deny him.
“That’s fine,” Aelin assured him. “Thank you again.” She flashed her fakest smile.
Seeming satisfied, Dorian smiled back. “I’ll leave you to it. Remember, our first meeting to discuss logistics will be tomorrow morning, at nine. My room number’s with the informative pamphlet I gave you.”
“We’ll be there,” Rowan replied. The pair of them exchanged farewells, and then watched as Dorian sauntered off.
“So.”
Aelin glanced over at Rowan. “Um.”
He looked conflicted. “Which bed do you want?”
Aelin sighed, brushing past him and stepping inside the room, their room, at last. “I guess that one?” She pointed at the bed on the left of the room at random.
To be fair, there was a decent bit of space between the beds. And the room was enormous. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcasing the beautiful snowy mountains were framed by plush curtains. Carved wooden furniture that Aelin assumed was genuine was placed tastefully around the king-size beds. A wide open doorway led to what appeared to be a sitting room and another open door showing a hint of tile probably connected an oversized bathroom. Aelin figured it’d have some kind of jacuzzi or gods knew what else in there.
It began to truly sink in why Terrasen Publishing wanted Dorian Havilliard so badly. The man knew how to make money.
“So what are you planning on doing first?”
Aelin glanced over. “I’m not sure… I don’t really know what these kind of places have. Like, skiing?”
Rowan shrugged. “I don’t know either. I might just read a book.”
Aelin nodded tersely.
In an effort to distract herself, Aelin pulled the key out of the door and shut it, then set it on a table. She carried her things to the bed she’d pointed at and arranged them neatly on the wooden bedside table, then, with nothing left to do, turned to Rowan.
“Do you want room service for dinner? I’m about to order something.”
Rowan looked up from his book. “Uh, yeah, I’m getting kind of hungry. Is there a menu?”
“Yeah.” Aelin stood and walked over to his chair, handing him the resort’s restaurant’s menu, which allowed room service.
Rowan reached for it and his thumb brushed Aelin’s hand. She jerked away.
Frowning, Rowan started at where their hands had met. “Why do you always…”
“What?” Aelin asked defensively.
Rowan sighed. “Look, this isn’t going to be fun for either of us, but can we just try to be civil? So that this whole trip isn’t as miserable as humanly possible for the both of us?”
“We don’t need to be civil. We can just go our separate ways, okay? You can stay in here and I’ll eat in the other room.”
Rowan rubbed his temples. He looked like he was figuring out how to phrase what he said next. “I don’t understand why you’ve always acted like this, Aelin, why you can’t just behave like a regular person. You’re always trying to stay as far away from me as possible and when you can’t avoid me you treat me like scum under your shoe. I just don’t get it.”
“Is that a question?” Aelin asked, avoiding eye contact.
“Yes, that’s a fucking question,” Rowan snapped. “Why do you hate being around me so much, Aelin? What have I ever done to you?”
Aelin deflated at that. Her shoulders slumped as all the fight drained out of her and she sank into the chair beside Rowan.
“I caught my boyfriend cheating on me the night before you started at Terrasen Publishing.”
Rowan’s lips parted in shock and understanding, but Aelin didn’t stop.
“That first day, I was cruel to you. I didn’t just cold-shoulder you or glare. Lorcan told me to show you around and acclimate you the publishing house and you were right there and I—”
Aelin cut herself off and squeezed her eyes shut. She opened them and looked down, too afraid to meet Rowan’s eyes.
“I was nasty to you, I spent the day belittling you and making you feel uncomfortable, just throwing all the shit on you I could because all I really wanted in that moment was for someone else to be as miserable as me.
“And I was so… I don’t know, embarrassed? That you’d seen me vulnerable, even if you didn’t realize it, so I just started avoiding you. That way I treated you that first day reminded me of the worst parts of myself and I just wanted to forget about it, but we were always forced to work together.”
“Aelin… why didn’t you just explain to me the next day what had happened? Or at least told me you’d had a rough day if you didn’t want to share the whole story? It didn’t have to go on like that.”
Aelin’s finger twisted around a hole in her jeans anxiously. “I’m not good at apologies, Rowan. And the longer it went on, the harder it got to think about explaining.”
Moments passed. Aelin kept her eyes down, barely keeping herself together with sharp breaths as she waited for Rowan’s response.
Finally, it came.
“I forgive you.”
Aelin scoffed. “No, you don’t.”
“You don’t know me, Aelin, and you have no right to tell me what I do and don’t mean. I forgive you,” Rowan repeated. “I’m not saying you treating me the way you did was excusable, or that all those months of bitterness can be forgotten. But you’re apologizing now, and that counts for something.
“Look, you heard what Lorcan said. We’re at a high-end resort at no expense to us. We aren’t working the whole time. I know it’s not an ideal situation, but it could be a hell of a lot worse. Let’s try and, you know, start over?”
Aelin finally got the nerve to look over and was met with the intense stare of Rowan’s pine green eyes. Her fingers stilled against her thigh.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” she rasped.
Then Rowan smiled, and something deep inside Aelin’s chest began to thaw.
—
“Where should we start?”
Rowan opened his mouth to respond to Dorian, but before he could Aelin reached for her bag and retrieved a small binder.
Aelin pulled a stack of stapled papers out of her binder. “I brought a sample contract to go over with you; it’s all very adaptable to your needs but in preliminary form it still lays out the rudiments.”
Rowan blinked in surprise. He hadn’t thought to do anything other than show up, and here Aelin was with her organization and a whole fucking binder despite the one night to prepare. Though, Rowan really shouldn’t be as disbelieving as he was; he may have his strengths in overseeing the editing process but Aelin’s strong suits were people and deals.
Dorian nodded at her, and Rowan leaned back, ready to watch Aelin do what she did best and answer any questions about the editing if needed.
The next hour passed with less misery than Rowan had anticipated. Watching Aelin negotiate with an expensive client-to-be like some kind of lawyer was… impressive. To say the least.
Dorian was rushing them by the end of the meeting, seeming keen to return to his new novel, but they’d gotten a decent bit of talking done. Feeling satisfied with their work—or rather, Aelin’s—Rowan followed Aelin from Dorian’s lavish hotel room, even more grand than their own, and out into the hall.
“Do you want to do something together today?” After hearing why Aelin had always acted the way she had, it had been easier to look past her actions and closer at her. They’d spent the evening eating room service dinner in bed and talking—not about anything too personal, but about their work and their hobbies, interests, all the like. Rowan was pretty sure he’d learned more about the prideful woman last night than he had over the course of six months of working together.
Aelin looked over at him, a surprised smile pulling at her lips. “Like what?”
Rowan shrugged. “Like ask the front desk what kind of rich-people activities they offer.”
Aelin laughed, bright and melodious. “I’d like that.”
Upon walking to the front desk, the pair was informed they could go skiing or snowboarding, go snowmobiling, swim in the indoor pool or jacuzzi, ice skate, relax in the spa and/or get a massage, visit the bar, exercise in the full-size gym, or do a number of other activities that Rowan hadn’t even heard of before.
The front desk attendant, Yrene, sent them a friendly wave as they walked away.
Rowan, mouth hanging open, glanced over at Aelin, who snorted at his expression.
“Is it all really paid for?” Rowan hissed. “Fully?”
Grinning maniacally, Aelin nodded. “I read in the pamphlet Dorian gave us that to go skiing or snowboarding you need to have brought your own equipment, but everything else is entirely paid. We can do anything.”
“Maybe I’m not so mad at Lorcan after all,” Rowan murmured.
“So what do you want to do?” Aelin asked, looking more excited than he’d ever seen her.
“You pick,” Rowan said.
Aelin bit her lip. “Ice skating?”
He smiled. “Have you been before?”
She shook her head. “You?”
“A couple times. It’s been years though.”
Aelin nodded and grinned again, and then they were walking back to their room to get coats.
Ten minutes later left them outside next to an iced over pond bordered on one side by the resort, another side by a rock overhang that sheltered the space from the wind, and the rest by a grove of massive conifers. The frozen pond was almost perfectly circular and surrounded by an iron handrail. It seemed like a convenient, authentic location, but Rowan guessed at least some of the details aside from the rail were artificial.
Rowan had no idea how many guests were staying in the resort, or what they spent their days doing, but apparently none of them were interested in skating. The enclosed outdoor area was void of all life aside from Rowan and Aelin.
They’d been provided with skates and then showed out the door. Aelin had been bouncing with energy, seeming quite youthful, and Rowan had realized this was the most unguarded he’d ever seen her.
Rowan watched as Aelin eagerly stumbled toward the rink, her hands out to keep her balance. She placed one blade on the ice, sliding almost immediately.
Aelin fumbled around for a moment, then gave up trying to skate and clutched to the handrail. “This is not as easy as it looks on TV.”
“You’ve only just started. Give it some time.”
She blew a stray tuft of bangs from her face, no less determined. Rowan watched in amusement as Aelin started clopping around the perimeter, most of her body weight on the handrail.
Rowan stepped onto the ice himself. It was a little tricky at first, but after a few minutes his body had remembered how to move and soon enough he was skating upright, albeit with a wobble, decently enough.
The thump of Aelin hitting the ice caught Rowan’s attention and he looked over to find her sprawled out on her back, a pout on her lips.
Rowan chuckled. He skated a smooth line across the ice and Aelin glowered at him from below.
“Having fun?” he asked.
Aelin frowned as Rowan extended his arms. “Yes,” she said stubbornly. She reached for him, clasping her hands in his.
“Careful,” Rowan murmured, holding them both steady as he adjusted his weight and pulled her to her feet. Aelin swayed, but Rowan’s grip was firm.
He could feel Aelin’s grip loosening when she regained her balance, trying to let go, but Rowan kept his hold on her. “What—”
“Let me help,” he interrupted. Rowan tugged her forward and she gasped, but didn’t fall.
Rowan skated backward a few more feet, letting Aelin get a feel for her balance and how her feet needed to move. Her body relaxed a bit as she accepted his help, trying to move her feet in time with his.
As Rowan skated back and Aelin stared at the ground in concentration, he watched her. Her hat was askew and her bangs were falling into her face again. A determined little frown resided on her lips.
After a few laps around the rink, Aelin’s grip on Rowan became less lethal and her feet began to move more steadily. Something had clicked for her, it seemed.
Aelin looked up from the ice and their eyes met.
“I really am sorry for how I’ve treated you,” Aelin whispered.
“I know,” Rowan said simply, and Aelin’s returning smile was answer enough.
“Ready to let go?” he asked.
Aelin nodded, and Rowan watched with a warm heart as she released him and tried moving on her own, one hand hovering over his just in case.
—
Aelin woke shivering.
Her eyes snapped open and she recounted her surroundings, processing the stack of blankets on top of her and the heavy, thrumming feeling of cold.
Aelin slipped out from under her mound of covers, wincing as she was surrounded by freezing air. She stumbled over to the radiator.
There was some kind of error symbol in the corner. Frowning, Aelin tapped at the buttons, unsure of how to use such a high-tech system. Only a thin hint of residual heat emitted from the thing.
“Dammit,” she murmured.
How was she supposed to stay warm in the mountains at night with no heat? The past few days of ice skating—Aelin had insisted on going every day, getting better with each try—had chilled her but not severely. It was the nights that Aelin couldn’t handle, and this one was even worse than the last. She’d already pillaged every spare blanket Rowan hadn’t claimed and still she’d woken feeling a chill in her very bones.
Trying the stay quiet, Aelin reached for the closet doors and started sifting through the various linens. Finding nothing, Aelin rifled through the drawer below, only coming across towels.
Aelin was just reaching for a whole stack of towels, too desperate to care about propriety—and honestly, these towels were nicer than any of Aelin’s bedding at home—when a voice rasped, “What are you doing?”
Aelin winced, not wanting to have woken him. “I can’t find any more blankets,” she whispered.
“That’s because you already have seven on your bed.”
Aelin shot a glare in the general direction of Rowan’s bed. “I’m cold.”
She waited for a witty retort, but all she got was the rustling of his covers and a faint silhouette as Rowan sat up. “Come here.”
“What?” Aelin asked cautiously.
“Come here,” Rowan repeated.
Rising clumsily and kicking the drawer shut, Aelin walked toward Rowan’s bed. She hesitated when she reached him.
Rowan moved over, making space beside him. In the dark Aelin couldn’t make out his expression, but she could see him gesture beside him, faint but unwavering.
Still tentative, Aelin slowly eased onto the bed, breathing rapid. She didn’t dare say a word as she lowered herself onto the bed, jerking backward when her leg brushed Rowan’s.
Maybe he was still half-asleep, or maybe he really didn’t see this as anything odd, or maybe a wave of confidence had washed over him, but Rowan only wrapped an arm around Aelin’s waist and tugged her flush against him, every curve and edge of hers pressed against hard muscle.
Aelin was pretty sure she gasped at the contact.
He pulled his covers over her, cocooning her in warmth. “Still cold?” Rowan asked, and Aelin bit her lip as his breath tickled her ear.
“No,” she whispered.
“That’s good.”
“Mm.” Aelin lay perfectly still as Rowan’s arm went farther around her waist, his hand sliding underneath her from the other side. Getting comfortable.
“Your heart’s beating very fast.” Rowan’s voice was still gravelly from sleep. Aelin told herself the shiver that followed was from the cold.
“No, it’s not.”
“It’s definitely is.”
Aelin could hear the smugness in his voice. “Shut up,” she hissed.
He let out a soft, rumbling laugh, and the vibrations traveled down Aelin’s spine. He didn’t say anything more, though, and Aelin pressed her head against Rowan’s chest, seeking his warmth and trying to relax.
It took a while for Aelin’s heartbeat to slow and her heavy breathing to subside, but when sleep finally washed over her, it was more deep and peaceful than it ever had been.
—
Morning hit Rowan in the form of a head of blonde hair.
Blinking away the sleep, he looked over at Aelin, curled into his side. Her cheek was pressed up against his bare chest. His own arms were wrapped around her waist, holding her securely.
The drowsiness had obliterated his restraint.
Trying to process the fact that Aelin was really here, in his arms, rather than in some twisted wet dream, Rowan gently let go of her. He scooted away, wincing when Aelin whined sleepily and reached for him.
Climbing out of bed, Rowan rubbed his temples. What was he doing with Aelin? What did all this mean?
“Rowan?”
He pressed his eyes shut and let out a heavy breath, then turned. “Morning.”
“Mornin’,” Aelin slurred.
“We have another meeting with Dorian today. We should get ready.”
Aelin groaned in protest, pulling the covers over her head. Deciding to give her a few more minutes, Rowan checked the time and then grabbed a towel from the linen closet, headed for a shower.
It wasn’t as cleansing as he’d wished it to be. Rowan had thought the cold water would wash away all the inappropriate thoughts, the twisted emotions, the smell of Aelin’s perfume. But ten minutes later he was wrapping a towel around his waist and the confusion lingered.
Rowan left the bathroom to grab some clothes, noticing Aelin’s sleepy gaze snap straight to his bare chest, then his arms. Pretending he didn’t notice, he reached for clothing out of his unpacked bag, then retreated back to the bathroom.
Aelin had finally gotten up when he emerged, and was reaching for an outfit from the neat little stacks she’d set up next to her own bed. They exchanged a heated stare and Rowan wasn’t entirely sure of what he read in Aelin’s expression.
She waltzed past him to change in the bathroom, and he just grabbed some notes on the past few days with Dorian to distract himself.
They’d had three meetings so far, spaced out every other day. The first had been a day of covering the basics of the contract, and the next two had been full of negotiations, shaping Dorian’s potential contract into something he could agree to. Aelin and Rowan had been discussing yesterday and come to the conclusion things were wrapping up in Dorian’s mind; the contract-to-be was close to being fully edited to suit his needs. He was going to give them an answer on switching publishers soon, one way or another.
After each meeting, and on all the off days as well, Aelin had dragged Rowan outside to practice skating, and each time he got a little more emotionally confused. Sure, she’d apologized, and his forgiveness was genuine, but that didn’t mean he could just brush right over everything. A week was hardly enough time to go from hating someone to… not hating that person. Rowan shouldn’t be—
Rowan stopped that thought. So much for distracting himself.
He let out a frustrated growl, clenching his fists.
“You okay?” a voice asked, and Rowan cursed himself to hell for not noticing her leave the bathroom.
He turned to find Aelin leaning against the doorframe, dressed in a cream sweater and jeans.
“I’m fine. I was just thinking about Dorian. Lorcan will be pissed if all this was for nothing.”
Aelin’s face said she didn’t believe a word of it, but she didn’t pursue it. Instead she asked, “Do you think he’s finished the book?”
Rowan shrugged. “He said he was getting close a couple of days ago. He could be. He might even give us the draft today if he’s finished it.”
“If he’s going to sign with us,” Aelin added, wandering over to a dresser.
“Yeah.”
“Are you going to start editing right away if he gives you the draft?”
Rowan gave another shrug. “Probably. Or maybe I’ll be able to stretch out the last few days of this vacation and pass it off when we get home.”
“Why?” Aelin reached for a pair of earrings, gaze on a mirror as they made small talk.
“I don’t often edit romance books. That’s Fenrys’ job.”
Aelin sent a smirk in his direction. “Ah, yes. You’re the historical fiction editor. How could I forget?”
“What’s funny about that?” Rowan asked defensively.
“Nothing at all,” Aelin replied, but she couldn’t keep her laugh in.
Rowan sighed. “Historical fiction is good. It offers a realistic perspective on time frames and events that deserve to be delved into. You shouldn’t be laughing.”
Grinning fiendishly, Aelin finished with the mirror and crossed her arms. “If you say so.”
Rowan just shook his head, shooting her an exasperated glare and nodding toward the door. “You ready?”
The walk to Dorian’s room wasn’t tense or silent, but it wasn’t as open as previous conversations between them had been. Aelin had likely picked up on Rowan’s weird mood, he thought with an internal cringe, and they were both nervous about the book deal as well.
Dorian greeted them and showed them into his sitting room as he’d done every other time. He had set out tea again, a habit of his, and Aelin accepted a cup graciously. Less inclined toward the substance but never wanting to offend a potential client, Rowan sipped his as well.
“I’m sure you’ve both realized that my mind is made up by now.” Dorian clasped his hands together and let the suspense linger.
Geez. This man knew how to be unnecessarily dramatic. Then again, maybe the millions his books had made had earned him the right to be a little sensational.
“Yes, we figured,” Aelin replied smoothly. “Is it good news?” Rowan could tell she was just as anxious as him, but Aelin was a hell of a lot better at hiding it.
Dorian smiled. “For you, quite. I made some last edits to the contract. You can look them over here, and if you find everything satisfactory, I’ll sign.”
Relief washed over Rowan in waves. He may have been lying to Aelin earlier when he told her that was what was on his mind, but he truly had been concerned. If Dorian had declined their offer and renewed his contract with Hamel Inc., Lorcan would be furious.
“Then I’ll give you the first draft of my new novel,” Dorian continued. “I finished looking over it yesterday so it’s very rough around the edges, but all the same, you can start editing right away if you so choose.”
Rowan nodded, and Aelin asked for the contract. They looked over it together, finding only minor changes that were acceptable to them. Dorian signed with an expensive fountain pen, and Rowan and Aelin released their bated breaths.
The whole meeting was a whirlwind of suppressed celebration and shared grins between the pair. Dorian sent them off with the draft, and they left, almost skipping down the hallway. As soon as Dorian’s room was out of earshot, Aelin let out a squeal and Rowan whooped.
“Thank the gods,” Aelin exclaimed, raising a hand for a high five.
Chuckling, Rowan met her hand. The contact felt like an electric shock, but Rowan ignored his confliction. They’d gotten one of the best-selling authors in the country to sign with their company. Today was not a day to be moping.
“Let’s go to our room,” Aelin said. “I want to read it.”
“Isn’t that my job?”
Aelin shrugged. “I can help.”
Rowan squinted. “Why?”
“Well…” Aelin looked away. “I’ve been waiting for book four in this series since January.”
Rowan let out a surprised laugh. “Oh, don’t tell me.”
“Shut up,” Aelin hissed.
“You read…” Rowan looked down at the draft. “The Toxic Heaven series?” he asked, scoffing at the title. He hadn’t even realized this thing was part of a series until now.
Aelin frowned. “It’s good. You can’t judge me. And don’t tell me you haven’t read any of them.”
“Um, no. I definitely have not.”
“None?” Aelin gasped.
Rowan crossed his arms. “I’m the boring historical fiction guy, remember? I don’t read this garbage.”
“It’s not garbage,” Aelin snapped, tugging the pages from his grip.
“Hey, that was definitely meant for me.”
“You’ll get your turn soon enough. Just give me a day or two.”
Shaking his head with a smile tugging at his lips, Rowan followed Aelin down the hall and back to their room.
—
Aelin got through the entire draft that day. She had allowed a break for ice skating; she was enjoying it immensely and was actually becoming decent. Other than that though, her eyes were glued to the smutty masterpiece all day long. Rough around the edges, sure, but it still had Aelin blushing.
Rowan had sent her amused glances throughout the day, which she’d pointedly ignored.
Flipping the last page, Aelin closed her eyes and grinned to herself. The main characters, who’d broken up in the last book, were back together. There was I’m-mad-at-you-but-I-still-love-you sex, makeup sex, fluffy sex, dirty sex. And Aelin refused to be embarrassed about enjoying it.
“That good, huh?”
Eyes opening and darting to Rowan, Aelin sent him her meanest stare. “You should try it you know. Maybe you’d get some if you paid enough attention.”
“Who says I don’t already get some?” Rowan’s voice was soft.
Oh, this was dangerous.
“I don’t know,” Aelin said, much more casually than she felt. “I don’t know a whole lot of people who are into historical fiction fanatics.”
Rowan crossed his arms, and Aelin tried not to stare at his bulging muscles. Had the room been this hot earlier?
“You’re ridiculous, you know that? I don’t think there’s a rule that says what I like to read means I’m clueless around women.”
Aelin opened her mouth to retort, but noticed something behind him. “Is that champagne?”
“Yeah, I figured we deserve to celebrate after landing that deal. I didn’t want to interrupt your reading, though,” he added with a grin. “Should we have some?”
Aelin ignored the jest and nodded. “We should.”
She sat up on her bed while Rowan popped the cork poured the alcohol into champagne glasses. He brought two over, sitting next to her on the covers. “You know, not only were we harassed into a work trip over Yulemas, which I’m pretty sure is illegal, we also got a famous author to sign with us. I feel like there’s got to be some kind of raise coming our way.”
Aelin laughed. “Gods, I hope so.” She took another sip of champagne, savoring the way it warmed her as it moved down her throat.
“What is all the fuss about Dorian Havilliard, anyway? There are only so many ways to write porn.”
“You clearly have no creativity,” Aelin replied. She picked up the draft and held it up. “He’s quite decent.”
Rowan squinted. “Let me see that thing.”
Aelin shook her head but he reached for the papers in her hands too quickly for her to draw them back. Rowan set it on his lap and flipped to a random page. “‘Celaena whimpered as Sam fucked her. Gods, she wanted to hate him, and maybe she did, but she could never hate his large, pulsating—’”
Aelin threw a pillow at him. “Stop it.”
“This is shit.”
“It’s not,” Aelin hissed. “Put it down and let Fenrys edit it when we get back.”
Rowan rolled his eyes. “I never realized what poor taste you have.” He tossed the draft on the bedside table.
“You’re just provoking me.”
Rowan scoffed. “Trust me, I may know nothing about writing smut, but I assure you there are better words to describe a cock than pulsating.”
Aelin sat up beside him. “Do you ever read smut, Rowan? Or do you just criticize people for having more game than you?”
He snorted. “I prefer doing over reading when it comes to certain things.”
Aelin felt her face warm. “Well… that’s just great for you.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow.
Aelin took a sip of champagne to occupy her mouth before she could say anything more humiliating, but Rowan didn’t let it slide.
“Do you ever get laid or is it all fictional?”
“That’s none of your business,” Aelin blustered.
“I entirely agree, but you’ve already asked me. I feel like it’s only fair.”
Aelin scowled. “Of course I do.”
“And when you do is it more or less pleasurable than reading Toxic Heaven?”
“Now you’re just teasing me.”
“Oh, I definitely am.” Rowan’s eyes darkened. “We’ve been dancing around each other all week, Aelin.”
Her toes curled. “I guess we have.”
Rowan plucked the glass out of Aelin’s hand and set it with his on the table. “Tell me you don’t want this.” Their knees bumped.
“I do,” Aelin whispered, shivering when Rowan’s hand found her hair, gently tugging on a strand of blonde. He leaned closer and Aelin felt her breath catch.
Rowan’s other hand fell to her thigh, sliding up slowly, giving her every chance to say no. His lips were now so close to hers, their eyes locked.
Rowan closed the last half inch but just before their lips could meet, Aelin turned her head to the side. “Um.”
Rowan leaned back.
“I’m sorry.” Aelin stood up.
Rowan rose beside her. “You don’t have to apologize, Aelin. It’s okay.”
She glanced at him, then looked away, nodding silently.
“If something’s wrong I can—”
“It’s not you, Rowan. It’s not your fault. I just can’t.”
He nodded, not asking her why. Aelin appreciated him for that more than she ever had before.
“Do you want me to go?”
“No, you can stay.” Aelin felt a tear slide down her cheek.
She could feel Rowan’s hesitation. “Aelin, I’m sorry I tried to kiss you, I shouldn’t have done that. We can pretend it didn’t happen if that makes you feel better.”
Aelin shook her head, blinking away more tears and feeling ridiculous for crying. “I don’t want to forget. I just don’t want it to happen. It can’t.”
“Why not?” Rowan’s voice was gentle, soothing.
“Because,” Aelin threw her hands up in defeat, “If we do anything now it’s going to be some short-lived fantasy that ends the second we’re home. And I don’t want this to be like some fucking dream that I—” Her voice cracked. She finished the sentence in a whisper.
“That I wake up from.”
Silence washed over the room. Aelin could barely hear anything over the pounding of her own heart, anyway.
For once, Aelin didn’t look away from Rowan. She started straight at him, watching, waiting.
He stared back at her for what felt like an eternity, unmoving. And then all of a sudden Rowan wasn’t still anymore; he was moving forward, and his hands were on Aelin’s face, and then his lips were on hers, and the rest of the world faded into grey.
Kissing Rowan felt like this whole whimsical, expensive vacation had felt. Like some kind of magic thing that was unexpected but not unwelcome, frustrating yet so freeing at the same time. Like every moment she’d had with Rowan prior, honestly.
One of Rowan’s hands fisted in her hair and the moan that left Aelin’s lips sent her mind straight from convoluted metaphors to the rush of heat headed straight down.
Before Aelin could drag him back to the bed and jump him like every molecule of her body was begging her to do, Rowan pulled back.
“I don’t want this to end either, okay?” Rowan was panting. “All the months we spend bickering because of one misunderstanding, one bad day, have been dissipating over the past week. I misjudged you, Aelin. And now that I’m no longer blinded by the idea that I dislike you, I’ve seen that you’re not somebody that I want to have a vacation with and then forget about. I want to get to know you better, I want… I want this to continue.”
Aelin looked up at him in shock. She nodded faintly. “Me too.”
He flashed a smile then, wide and genuine, and Aelin couldn’t help but grin back.
“I hope this means we get to go on a date,” Aelin murmured.
“Oh, it most certainly does.” Rowan pecked Aelin on the lips again, and the casualness of it sent butterflies off in her stomach. “I hope someday I can live up to the standards Dorian’s novel has put on me.”
Aelin choked on a laugh. “Gods. You’re horrible.”
Rowan twisted a finger around a lock of blonde hair. “You know, you’re going to have to put up with a lot of teasing if you really want me. And gods, imagine what the people will say about you dating a historical fiction editor. It’s not too late to back out.”
Aelin shoved him playfully. “I wouldn’t back out for the world.”
She’d meant it to match the joking mood, but it came out serious. Rowan stared at her silently, then moved impossibly closer. Their noses bumped.
“I wish that first day had never happened,” Aelin whispered. “We wasted so much time.”
“I regret nothing,” Rowan said. “Because things worked out so that I’m here with you, right now, and it was more than worth the wait.”
Aelin beamed at him. “And you say you don’t read romance novels. Who taught you how to charm a lady so well?”
Rowan laughed. “Not everything can be found in a book, Aelin.”
“You’re wrong,” Aelin murmured.
Rowan hummed. “I think I could teach you a few things Dorian left out.”
“Oh yeah?” Aelin tugged Rowan toward the bed. “Like what?”
Rowan grinned ferally. “Let me show you.”
They were laughing as they hit the bed.
———
Tag List:
@aelin-bitch-queen
@autumnbabylon
@charlizeed
@evolving-dreamer
@feysand-loml
@flora-shadowshine
@gracie-rosee
@infernoqueen19
@julemmaes
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@live-the-fangirl-life
@midsizewitch
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@realbookloverproblems
@rhysandswingspan
@rowaelinismyotp
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@sexy-dumpster-fire
@sleeping-and-books
@story-scribbler
@swankii-art-teacher
@thegreyj
@the-lonelybarricade
@thenerdandfandoms
@yesdreamblog
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The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 69 - Just Desserts
The Hot Girls take a break from fitness and have some brunch at a bar near their gym.
Ophelia's life update isn't the most cheery, but she's glad to have the support of her friends.
Libby: Feefs, I'm so sorry.
Becca: What a creep. Don't worry, guys like that always get what they deserve.
Ophelia: I hope so, but things don't always work out like they do in your books, Becca.
Becca: Don't remind me. Still waiting for Travis to tell me he's a secret prince.
Summer: Hector Laurent… That name sounds familiar. Guess I've heard you talk about him.
Ophelia: Well, I'd like to stop talking about him. He's not going to live rent-free in my mind.
Libby: Good for you, girl! Summer, how was the honeymoon?
Summer: It was perfect. I just wish I had one more vacation day from my doofus coworkers.
Libby: Aww, it can't be that bad!
Summer: My one caterer Mila is really getting on my nerves, considering how many complaints we get about her not actually cooking at her catering gigs.
Summer: Speaking of work, I've gotta head out. I've got a couple meetings at work today, so I'm going in early.
Ophelia gets up to hug her.
Ophelia: Bye, good luck!
Summer: Thanks, girly pop. Let us know if you need anything. Love you!
Summer got promoted to Head Caterer at Make-A-Dish shortly before she got engaged to Mark. She's settled into the role quite nicely. She loves bossing people around!
As she finishes up a call, Mila walks into her office.
Mila: Excuse me, Summer, but a potential client is here to see you.
Summer: I don't have my calendar pulled up. Did they give you a name?
Mila: Hector Laurent.
Summer: HECTOR LAURENT?!
That's why the name rang a bell.
Mila: I-I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?
Summer: For once, no. Send him in. I'm eager to talk to him.
Mila: Yes, ma'am.
Hector comes in, pleasant as ever.
Hector: This is a lovely office Miss…?
Summer: MRS. Eggleston. You must be Hector Laurent. I've heard a lot about you.
Hector: Good things, I hope!
Summer doesn't react to his joke.
Summer: Pull up a chair. Let's chat.
If Hector notices the stink eye Summer is giving him, he doesn't show it.
Hector: I've got a great business opportunity for you.
Summer: Enlighten me.
Hector: I run one of the most successful wedding venues out there and we're looking for a new caterer.
Summer: Fascinating.
Hector: This would be a great source of revenue for your catering team-
Summer: Oh, would it? I suppose technically it would be, since my employees would probably get a lot of money out of your pocket from harassment lawsuits.
Hector: Mrs. Eggleston, I-I don't-
Summer: Don't play dumb with me, Laurent. You thought word wouldn't get out that you tried to force your employee to woohoo you? If you think I'm sending my team into the lion's den, you're as stupid as that hat makes you look.
Hector: I think there's been a misunderstanding-
Summer: No, it's clear as day that you tried to take advantage of a woman you held a position of power over.
Hector: Who told you this? Was it Ophelia? You can't trust a word that harlot says!
Summer: Keep her name out of your damn mouth!
Hector: This is a highly unprofessional way to conduct business.
Summer: Good thing we're not conducting business then. Sounds like when this goes fully public, you won't have any clients for us to cater for anyway!
Hector: I'll gladly take my business elsewhere.
Summer: Good luck after the email I'm going to send out.
Hector: What's that supposed to mean?
Summer: Us caterers might be in competition with each other, but we do talk, you know.
Summer: No one going to send their employees to a known predator. I'm warning every restaurant from here to Sixam that you're not a safe client.
Hector: That's libel! I'll sue!
Summer: There was a witness to your misconduct. Plus, you knocked up an employee. You MADE evidence!
Hector: She didn't work for me at the time! My personal life has nothing to do with my business!
Summer: You sure made inappropriate workplace conduct your business!
Hector: You can't do this to me!
Summer: Blacklist you? Yeah, what kind of monster threatens to do that?
Summer: Now get the hell out of my office! Enjoy your time before you become a total pariah. And next time, think twice before messing with Summer Eggleston's friends, bitch!
Hector doesn't know what to do other than slink out of the office in shame.
Having no idea how much Summer just ruined a huge part of Hector's ability to operate his business, Ophelia has been blissfully working on improving her baking skill for New Skill Day. That better be a thank you pie for Summer, girl!
#The Sims#The Sims 4#The Sims 4 Legacy#The Lemon Legacy#TS4#The Sims 4 gameplay#sims 4#generation 1#ophelia#summer#becca#libby#hector#mila
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Going to You
I wanted to make this a longer project, but I don't have the time nor the energy to add to my WIP lmao. But either way, I really hope that people enjoy this cute little (not so little?) story about long distance friends meeting!! Also the banners I'm making for these are so trash but I'm rolling with it lol. As usual, let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for TOG!
Word Count: 2729
CW: cursing
Read on AO3
Rowaelin Month 2022 Masterlist
Day 3 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Travel/Vacation
~~~~~~~~~~
>> Look, it’s you! I appreciate you. *Attachment: a picture of a hawk trying to pick up a tortoise with the caption: ‘HAWKS. Born to make you feel smarter’*
<< Aelin.
>> Yes?
<< Shut up.
Aelin laughed out loud as she locked her phone and tucked it away into her pocket before walking into the conference room for her meeting. It was always nice to get a laugh in by teasing her best friend when her day was dragging , especially when she knew that he wasn’t going to get his feathers ruffled just from a simple joke.
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Aelin had to suppress another laugh. She wished that she could’ve seen his reaction in real time but alas, that was the way things worked with them — texts, phone calls, the occasional video calls.
She had met Rowan Whitethorn accidentally a year ago, and if she were being honest, she felt as though the fact that the two of them had met was simply a stroke of fate, not an accident.
It was one of many late nights that Aelin had been spending at work, waiting for a client to respond to her email, when she decided to waste time on Instagram, and as she got further and further down her scrolling spree, she came across book editor Rowan Whitethorn’s page about current popular books on social media and how social media was causing waves of trends amongst the book community. She messaged him about the video, something that she normally didn’t do. The most Aelin would do to interact with others online was like the reels and posts she would see.
She still didn’t understand why she had decided to click on his profile and message him, but that was what kickstarted their friendship. The four hour time difference between Terrasen and Doranelle made it so Aelin’s late night was merely Rowan’s early evening, and somehow they made it work. The single message had spiraled into a conversation that lasted for hours, and Aelin had left at nearly eleven that night, despite finishing the last bit of work an hour earlier. The next morning, she had awoken to a few more messages from Rowan, seeming incredibly hesitant as he wondered if they could continue the conversation.
Aelin wholeheartedly agreed.
Soon enough, the conversation had moved off of Instagram to texting as they shared phone numbers, and then whenever Aelin was driving home from work, she’d call Rowan and they’d talk on the phone, and on weekends, they would video call too. Within a year, everyone around Aelin had spoken to Rowan at least once and they all knew that he was her best friend. They were essentially penpals, but it was also so much more. Rowan was her rock, her home away from home, and every day she would look forward to the moments when they could get a few messages in.
To be fair, half the time the messages would involve Aelin teasing Rowan for being such a fussy, old man — she didn’t even care that he was thirty years old, four years older than her twenty six. There was one time where Aelin was sick enough to sleep through the day, and Rowan swore he thought she had gone up and died without telling him. Needless to say, he now had her cousin, Aedieon’s, phone number, and she had gotten herself a worrywart across the ocean.
It wasn’t as though she would trade that for the world, though, because even though she had never met Rowan in person, she was fairly sure that he was her favorite person in the world, and the feeling probably extended past friendship, but Aelin would be absolutely batshit insane to ever tell him that, especially over text .
But despite everything, she wanted to do something special for the two of them, so ever since Rowan had mentioned that he needed a weekend off away from his normal life, she decided that she would take it upon herself to plan the perfect little weekend vacation that they could use to meet up as well.
Aelin had booked the tickets to a small group of tourist friendly islands called Mistward last night and was waiting for the perfect time to forward the ticket information over to his email, and what better time would it be than to do it when he knew he couldn’t call her and chew her out because she was going to be in a meeting? Deciding to bite the bullet, she opened up her email, entered Rowan's email address, and hit forward before setting her phone on vibrate and pulling up a notes app on her tablet as the meeting began.
Sure enough, within minutes, her phone started vibrating. Discreetly looking down at her watch where the notifications were also coming through, all she saw was her name coming from Rowan, and she suppressed a smile at the thought of how angry he would pretend to be.
It took longer than expected to get back to Rowan thanks to the meeting running longer than the allotted forty five minutes, but Rowan had responded as soon as she did.
<< Aelin.
<< Aelin.
>> I thought you told me to shut up, so I did!
<< You did not just pay for two tickets to an island destination for this weekend.
>> I most definitely did, buzzard.
<< I can’t expect you to pay for me like that
>> Get used to it because if it were up to you, you’d never take a break
>> Says the woman working sixty hours a week?
<< Shush this is my moment to make sense
<< Just accept it! This is our moment to meet, Rowan
Aelin had to wait a couple of minutes before Rowan responded, and the entire time she was waiting, she tried not to chew her thumbnail down to the very nub, and thankfully she succeeded, but just barely.
>> Fine, but I’m paying for dinner.
<< It’s a date.
~*~*~*~*~
In mere minutes, she would be seeing Rowan Whitethorn for the first time.
In mere minutes, she would be touching Rowan Whitethorn for the first time.
In mere minutes, she would be with her best friend for the first time, and Aelin absolutely could not deal.
She never realized that it could be strange, the feeling of meeting someone for the first time despite having known such deep and sincere things about them.
She had known the pain of loss that he had felt when Lyria had died, just weeks after getting engaged to her, and he had understood the guilt she felt when Sam had died due to a drunk driver because he was trying to pick her up from a party one night.
Aelin knew Rowan, but it was incredibly weird to think about how she didn’t really know him at the same time? She didn’t know if he cracked his knuckles frequently like she did or if he liked to twitch his leg; however, she desperately hoped all of that would change over the course of the next two days.
The two were expected to land within thirty minutes of each other (which was a miracle in of itself considering the time difference of leaving on a Friday afternoon) and had decided to meet up at the baggage claim area, and so there Aelin was, sitting on her suitcase with her phone in hand as she scrolled through Rowan’s Instagram pictures, trying to visualize his small photos as a real, live human before deciding that the entire idea was stupid and she needed to get her shit together.
He was going to be here in…three minutes, and she felt the pterodactyls rushing her stomach. Oh god, she could not throw up here. That would be such a bad way to meet someone for the first time. Instead of thinking about all of the nerves, she focused on looking at her notes app and checking through the itinerary of what they were planning on doing. As soon as they got out of the airport, the plan was to get to the hotel that Aelin had booked where they had connecting rooms and immediately go out walking without a plan to find the little nooks and crannies of the area with the restaurants without lines going out the door. Those places tended to be more authentic and not geared towards tourists. Obviously, they were going to do all the touristy things later on during the rest of the weekend before they had to leave Sunday night for the flight. It was in the plan that they would be going to the Oakwald Wilderness Park and swimming in the local waterfalls. After that, they would also be going to the beach and just spending a while tanning in the sunlight, but for the most part, Aelin wanted the chance to relearn her best friend in person .
She was so lost in looking at her phone that she jumped when she felt someone touch her shoulder. Whipping her head around, she startled as she took in the man standing in front of her with a slight nervous smile. His tan skin was a contrast against the silver hair that Aelin had only seen through screens. The tattoo running down his left arm was exposed as well, another thing that Aelin had only seen in detail through her screen as he showed it to her through the camera. Finally, she looked into his pine-green eyes, and it finally hit her that the man in front of her was Rowan.
Her Rowan.
“Oh my god,” she breathed, standing and turning around at the same time, nearly tumbling off the suitcase. Rowan grabbed her gently by her forearms to steady her, and they stood there for a moment. Aelin was aware that they probably looked like a pair of idiots pretending to be in a movie, but it felt as though time had stopped for her as she took in Rowan until she had the presence of mind to speak.
“Hi, Buzzard,” she greeted with a smile, her heart filling up with emotions she was starting to parse through and understand was excitement and happiness and the nerves of seeing a man she liked. Rowan let go of her with a laugh, but he didn’t go far.
“Hey, Fireheart,” he greeted back, and she let out a laugh of relief. He was in front of her, and they were going to do this.
At first it was a bit strange to be talking to each other in person, but eventually they fell into a familiar rhythm of teasing each other and talking about literally anything. Even as they got settled into their respective hotel rooms, they left the connecting door open to scream across as they unpacked. Eventually they made their way out of the hotel and started walking around. There were moments that she wished Rowan would just take a hold of her hand, but the more rational part of her brain knew that it would be weird.
“So, this is weird, right?” she finally gave in and asked as they continued to dodge other tourists walking around the pathway as the sun was slowly setting, casting an orange glow over the buildings.
Rowan looked down at her with a smile. “Yeah, but it’s a good weird.”
“How is weird ever good?”
“I mean, you’re weird.”
“Excuse you,” she retorted in an offended tone and a hand on her heart. Rowan just laughed again, and Aelin couldn’t get over how rich it sounded in real life.
“I can’t get over how I can just reach over and touch you,” he explained, a genuine wonder in his expression as he poked her cheek gently with his index finger.
Swatting his hand away, Aelin hummed in agreement. “I’m mad that you’re so much taller than me.”
“It’s amazing how you’re so small, honestly.”
“I’m tall for a woman my age!”
“Is five feet tall?”
“You’re an asshole. I’m five seven!”
“Yeah, tiny,” he retorted as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side to avoid a bike rider that she hadn’t seen until he was basically past them. “And blind, apparently.”
A meek, “Shut up,” was all that Aelin could manage after being pressed up against the hard muscles and ridges of his body. She didn’t immediately move away, but he also didn’t let go of her as they finally found a small cafe type restaurant without too many customers inside.
Dinner was full of brushes of their hands as they passed dishes amongst each other, partially because it was accidentally, but also partially because Aelin still couldn’t believe he was in front of her. She had a sneaking suspicion that Rowen felt the same way because as soon as they stood up after he paid, he had laid a palm on the small of her back, and slowly, very slowly, the hand had moved to rest around her waist. There was a hesitation in his motion, as though he were waiting for her to move or to say something against it, but there was no part of Aelin that was against it. The lights of the night sky on the island, the fresh breeze, and the scent of the snow emanating from Rowan had her feeling the most calm and comfortable that she had in weeks.
They didn’t feel the need to spend the walk back to the hotel by talking, and instead just basked in the others’ presence. The rest of the trip followed a pattern where they would talk when they had things to talk about but it wasn’t as though they were under an obligation to fill the silence. The new thing about the two of them, however, was the touching. It was normal for Aelin and Rowan to leave calls or video calls on when they ran out of things to talk about, just to have companionship, and obviously they couldn’t touch through a screen, but Aelin wasn’t expecting that she would constantly be looking for an excuse to touch him. Rowan never said, either. They walked arm in arm through the Oakwald Park, and the thought of the lingering touches to her bare waist as they went swimming through the waterfall still brought heat to her cheeks.
When it came time for their Sunday night flights, Aelin didn’t want to go, but more importantly, she didn’t want to let Rowan go, either.
“I had a great time,” she said as they stood in front of a Starbucks in the airport. “I wish this weekend weren’t ending.”
Rowan raised his hands to cup her cheeks before softly rubbing circles with his thumbs. “Me neither,” he quietly said.
“Is it bad to say that I’ve had more fun with you over the last two days than I have in a really, really long time?”
“No,” he answered with a smile. “I did too. I also…don’t want to let you go. I want to keep you by my side.”
“Then don’t,” she responded with, as a last ditch effort. “I like you, Rowan. I really like you,” Aelin confessed.
Her heart filled with hope as she took in his responding bright smile. He didn’t respond, though, with words. The pterodactyls were back as his lips brushed hers gently once, twice, before pulling back when they called boarding for his flight.”
“I’ll see you soon, Aelin. I promise.”
He smiled at her before kissing her forehead and squeezed her hand once before he walked away, taking a part of her heart with her.
Until a minute later her phone pinged with a notification. Pulling it out, she let out a loud laugh as she looked at the email notification.
Congratulations, Mr. Whitethorn! We are happy to officially extend an offer for you to work in the Terrasen branch of our publishing house, starting in two weeks.
She didn't even finish reading the rest of the email before texting the man.
>> Rowan.
>> Rowan!
<< What?
She could practically hear the laughter in his voice.
>> You couldn't have told me this sooner?!
<< It was too much fun seeing you upset over me.
>> Rude.
<< I'll see you soon, Fireheart. Have a safe flight.
Aelin snorted even as she tried to stop herself from bawling like a dumbass in the middle of a very public airport.
>> You too, Buzzard.
Taglist: @thegreyj
#rowaelin month 2022#rowaelin month#aelin galythinius#rowan whitethorn#romance#best friends to lovers
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Why do agents like phone calls so much? It seems unique to that profession, I don't see that much phone enthusiasm from other industry people. I feel like from a logical standpoint email is much more efficient if you pitch something or talk about edits or something since you've got an overview and don't have to remember it all?
??? do they ???
I don't think agents particularly "like phone calls" much more than any other group of people does -- some like them, some are indifferent, some loathe them I'm sure. Some editors like them, some are indifferent, some loathe them I'm sure.
(And some editors -- not many, but SOME -- are ghosts on email and the only way of possibly getting hold of them is by phone. The same is also probably true of some agents! Not many, but some!)
Anything important that really you need to remember or reference again in the future will come via email. If anything is discussed in a call that requires further action, it should be memorialized in a follow-up email -- and if anyone ever calls you and says "I'd like to offer BLAH BLAH NUMBERS NUMBERS BLAH" (which happens to me quite often!) -- you just say, "Great, can you send that via email! Thanks!"
Personally, aside from weekly scheduled zoom agency meetings which I am not counting in this assessment -- I spend maybe 15-30 minutes per week on the phone, max. If there is the occasional week where I have an hour long call, there are also many weeks where I have no calls at all. I think the same is probably true of many agents.
On the flip side, I could spend easily five hours a day JUST doing email. Not reading manuscripts or contracts, not looking at royalty statements or editing or answering Tumblr questions -- JUST answering and sending email after email after blessed email. (I usually DON'T do it for five hours at a time, because I also do all those other things, but I COULD, and I still wouldn't be done, because it's never-ending.)
The only (ONLY) time I need to have a call or zoom with an author is before I offer to sign somebody -- "The Call" as writers call it -- so that they can get to know me, I can get to know them, and any questions they might have can be answered, etc.
SOME authors, it might surprise you to know, actually do really prefer to call or zoom to have "what's next" chats, and that's fine, I'm happy to do that if they want to, particularly if we haven't touched base in a while, so they can catch me up on whatever they are doing, and vice versa. It can definitely be helpful if you are workshopping ideas or something, because actually, that is an interactive and iterative process. If you are telling me about what your next project is, and I can ask questions and have a real-time conversation about it, and you are expressing your enthusiasm to me -- that might be more effective than a dry paragraph in an email, yanno? Enthusiasm is contagious! (But again, if anything important happens, or there are action items, that's what a follow-up email is for!)
That being said, not every author wants to do that, and that's absolutely fine, too. Aside from The Call and When A Client Asks For A Call, the only time I would ever want to have a call with an author or an editor is A) if it is something sensitive that I don't feel comfortable writing down for some reason, like, I need your social security number, or I need to tell you about a piece of HOT GOSSIP -- OR B) if it truly would be much faster than an email -- like we are having a back-and-forth conversation that needs to be finished quickly, and just picking up the phone and asking the three questions for ten seconds and getting the answers RIGHT THEN is easier than waiting for each of us to type, etc etc. Like please, let me get back some of my day from the tyranny of my inbox and just ask this in real time, thank you.
Finally: Any phone enthusiasm you think literary agents possess is, I promise, absolutely ECLIPSED by the passion that Hollywood people have for the phone. They LOVE to call anyone and everyone, ALL THE LIVE-LONG DAY, including after hours in NY because they are in LA and forget about the time difference. For something, for nothing, for any reason or no reason at all. IF they email, they tend to be extremely brief to the point of uselessness, because, no doubt, they are emailing from their phones in their cars while stuck in traffic. IT'S A NIGHTMARE, ACTUALLY.
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Sugar Mommy Ch 2
Warnings: language, minor SVU case talk.
Buy me a ko-fi?
Rita had been at the office working though another clients case, having sent an email for you to go down to the courthouse to pass some paperwork onto Barba for the Carla Gannon case. You’d spent the previous evening talking over the entire case with her, something in your gut told you the charges weren’t right, and it wasn’t just the fact that the defence happened to be your boss. There was something about this case that just didn’t sit right, and while you were waiting for Barba to finish up his testimony prep, everything came to light. You’d only managed to silently sneak into the courtroom he and Amanda were using for prep before the info dropped, your jaw dropping with it, managing to sneak out and leave the paperwork with Carmen before racing back to the office.
“Rita! Sorry, Ms Calhoun!” You nearly dove into her office, chest heaving, “We’re in the clear! Jesus…why is your office not closer to the courthouse? Sorry! It just feels a lot further in heels.” She couldn’t help the small giggle escaping her lips at the way you sucked in a heavy breath.
“You don’t need to apologize so much. Did Barba drop the charges?”
“No. But during their testimony prep Tiana admitted that Bauer was paying her to say that Shakir raped her! That he paid the other girls too, but way more than he paid her. Even if it’s just one out of three that’s a bad pattern, not to mention witness tampering and bribery.”
“Good girl. That law degree really is doing you good.” She smirked, “You overheard this, or did Barba tell you?”
“I don’t think they saw me, the courtroom door was open. I left the paperwork with Carmen, didn’t say anything to her. Oh shit..” Your gaze shot off into nowhere, “What if they try and cover this up? It’ll look like I’m just trying to stand up for your firm.”
“It will.” Rita moved from her desk, her hand squeezing your elbow softly, regaining your attention, “But they won’t try to cover this up. I know Rafael, he’s too good hearted. And if he doesn’t bring it up, I’ll put Tiana on the stand and remind her she’s under oath…or that we can pay more.” You let out a small laugh at that, entirely unsure if the woman was kidding or not. Your breath hitched as her hand trailed up your arm to your neck, “Your collar’s all twisted,” her fingers swiftly fixed it, not missing the way your cheeks flushed. A small smile on her face, “You know you look radiant in blue, you should wear it more often.” She moved back towards the desk, collecting what she would need or the Shakir case,
“Uh..thank you Ms Calhoun.” She smirked as she shouldered her bag.
“You can stop with the Ms Calhoun too, you’re allowed to call me Rita. Now c’mon,” She gestured towards the door with her head.
“What?”
“You’re coming with me to talk to Shakir. You heard the disclosure, I’m sure SVU will send their team in soon but I’d rather talk to him first. And in case you haven’t noticed, you’re my right hand.”
“Yes Ms Cal- Rita.” You corrected yourself, missing the third smirk from her as you followed her out of the office, quickly on the phone with Shakir, meeting him at his building’s gym before Amaro showed up.
Thankfully, Barba had done what was right, what was legal, and despite the other two claims sticking to their accusations, everything got dropped because their stories were the exact same and Tiana admitted to being paid. As it turned out there was a lot more going on in the Bauer household than originally expected, not that that was any of your problem.
You were just starting to pack up your desk when you heard the door to Rita’s office open, your attention still on the filing for a moment before you glanced up.
“You did great today Y/N, like I said, you’d make a great lawyer.”
“Thank you Ms Calhoun.” You flushed at the half glare she gave you return, “Rita..sorry.” Your face scrunched, “It’s an adjustment.”
“Well I think I owe you a drink in order to celebrate.”
“Oh, you don’t have to.”
“I insist. Please” Rita gave you a knowing smile. She knew you’d never say no to her unless she truly crossed a line, and the way your cheeks flushed, your breathing increased, the way you nearly froze when she reached out to touch you, she hadn’t crossed a line. In fact, she knew just how comfortable and accepting of it you were. You didn’t have to say it, she could read you like an open book, and did she ever love it. “It’s Friday, it’s not like you have anywhere to be tomorrow morning.” You laughed softly,
“You’ve got me there.”
“Good.” She shot you a grin as you gathered the last of your things, following her from the building. You ended up at the Top of the Standard, the penthouse lounge atop the Standard Hotel, somewhere you’d only ever dreamed of being before.
Rita ordered a bottle of wine, ensuring you to order whatever food you wanted despite the price, after all, you’d basically won the last case for her.
You reluctantly agreed, still feeling a little out of place, thankful the wine helped you relax, soon joking and laughing over things with your boss. Rita did her best to sensitively ask about your history, she was eager to know more about you, but didn’t want to press the wrong buttons. Thankful when you opened up to her, that your mother had left when you were very young, your Dad being your absolute rock until he got sick. She already admired you for that, but knowing that you were dealing with Harvard, with that level of schooling while you were the only child of a broken home, and your Father was so quick to get diagnosed after your graduation? There was no doubt he’d already been sick while you finished your education.
She felt her heart tighten when you admitted you were nearly certain he’d been sick for months before you graduated, but didn’t want to admit it until he’d seen his baby girl live her dream. You’d only wished he’d stayed alive long enough to see you actually become a lawyer. Her hand reached across the small table, grasping yours in a reassuring squeeze, your eyes met hers in a soft thank you before you changed subjects, and she smiled at the way that your hand didn’t immediately pull away.
Around midnight the server came over to ask about last call, you both denied, asking for the bill. Rita was obviously quick to shoot down you offers to pay, to even cover the tip. Not only had she invited you out, but it was in celebration of you making the close on a case. You could only give her a soft smile and a thank you while she signed the credit card receipt. You felt her hand in the small of your back briefly as you moved to the elevator, once downstairs she turned to you.
“You did a really good job this week sweetheart. I hope to see more of that in the future.”
“Of course.” You couldn’t help but blush as the pet name, whether it was work related or not. Rita gave you a soft smile, your hand a soft squeeze, her head gesturing towards the street.
“That would be your car. Let me know when you get home please.”
“Always.” You shot her a grin, “Thank you…so much.”
“Keep this kind of work up and you’ll get much better dinners than this.” Rita could only feel her heart flutter at the way you giggled, ducking into the car as you said good night.
Goddammit she hadn’t thought you’d be that kind of problem, though there was a lot of territory to cover before that. She wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what your opinions were, sure, it seemed like your heart rate started to race when she complimented you, that your breath hitched whenever she fixed a rumpled piece of clothing, the way your pupils dilated whenever she praised the work you did.
Who was she kidding? She knew exactly what she was doing, and she’d known since you’d joined the firm as a general assistant. The lingering glances, the small jokes, she’d always had a liking towards you, and she’d very much noticed your reaction to all of them. But now, she wanted nothing more than to dive right in, mentally reminding herself to hold back for a little bit until you were on the same page.
#rita calhoun#rita calhoun x reader#law and order svu#svu#law and order#sugar mommy#law and order special victims unit
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Regards, Loki - Chapter 7
Master List
Come Monday, Louisa walked into the office to some stunned faces. Everyone was so used to seeing her in almost raggedy clothes.
“Looks like someone finally decided to join fashionable society,” her boss remarked. “Did you rob a bank or something? Is that bag filled with cash you’re attempting to hide?”
She had to take a moment before responding, not wanting to berate her manager and end up losing her job. “No, I did not rob a bank, sir.” It was taking everything in her to not scoff at him. “Is there something I can help you with Mr. Price?”
He gave a half smile. It wasn’t hard to tell what was on his mind. “Nothing worth my time. Please make sure you finish those reports and have them for me by 3 pm.” Rather than stay to take more of his despicable comments, she moved past him to her desk and placed the bag of emergency clothes in the back of her bottom drawer. What she also noticed was her boss checking out her ass as she walked away.
Loki: How is your day so far? Was your new outfit a big hit?
Sigyn: My boss is such a creep.
Loki: How so?
Sigyn: I wore some of the new clothes today, and he asked if I robbed a bank, then stared at my ass when I walked away.
Loki: I’m so sorry, my dear. Men like him give the rest of us a bad name. I had a friend back in uni (we’ll call him Fandral to stay with the theme) who was like that. I’d smack him in the back of the head when he became too crude.
She went about the rest of her day filling out forms, generating reports, and making notes on trends she notices. Keeping an eye on the time, she made sure she had the reports to Mr. Price on time. Part of her wanted to go to his office to make sure he received them, but another part of her brain screamed not to, wanting to avoid more nasty comments.
Despite her wishes to keep him at arms length through the end of the day (and hopefully through the end of the week), he approached her desk about an hour before quitting. “It appears you’ve finally learned to submit reports more timely.” With only an hour left in her day, he asked her to organize the printed files in the big cabinet not only by date, but sort each date alphabetically by client.
“This needs to be done before you leave for the day. Upper management wants to make sure files we have can be easily located.” Before she could respond to him, he turned heel and went back to his office.
Instead of being able to leave on time, she was there until 8 pm as there were over a thousand files. The more she went through them, the more time she found it was going to take and swore her boss was out to get her yet again.
Loki: I hope the rest of your day was better than the beginning.
Sigyn: I wish. I’m finally about to leave the office.
Loki: You cannot be serious?
Sigyn: Serious as a heart attack.
Loki: You should do something for yourself tonight. Perhaps picking up some take away or have something delivered?
Sigyn: Good idea. I still haven’t been able to go grocery shopping, and I’m starving.
Loki: I’m not a fan of going to stores for groceries. Might I recommend a service that will pick up and deliver them to you?
Sigyn: That would be incredible.
He provided her the site. As she perused, she found everything she would have gotten at the corner store plus other items that looked amazing, like a stracciatella gelato she’d been wanting to try.
Loki: For the record, you are welcome to text or email anytime. No need to wait for me to contact you first.
Sigyn: I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you for recommending this site! I’m working on a grocery order right now.
Loki: I am glad to hear it.
Once she had her order together (which was only maybe a dozen items), they let her know the items could be delivered by 9 pm to which she agreed. That way she could put something together for lunch the next day rather than have yet another liquid lunch.
When the delivery man arrived at 9, he didn’t just leave the groceries at her door. With her permission, he brought them into her apartment and placed them on the kitchen counter. She thought he’d be expecting a tip either way. Instead he bid adieu and departed.
As soon as she finished putting groceries away, her doorbell rang again, this time with her chinese food. Quickly changing into comfortable clothes, she dug into her hot meal before heading to bed.
That night, she found herself dreaming she was in the labyrinth, broken branches and glitter galore. She found various hidden openings and tried to find her way to the castle, thinking this would probably be the closest she’d ever get to the real thing until she reached the two-door riddle. She let them recite their riddle and then asked them the same questions Sarah did, except she switched to whom she asked. She opted for the other door, she still found herself falling into an ublient. Apparently the entire thing was really a no-win situation.
She spent chunks of her workday thinking about that dream. Well, she was until her boss slammed some files on her desk making her jump. He placed his hands on his hip and cocked his eyebrow. “Am I paying you to daydream?”
Oh how much she didn’t like him. She got all her work done, timely, and he just berates her for fun. Of course, though, he was never satisfied. “I’m so sorry, sir. I promise I’m getting all my work done.”
“Good.” With a sneer and arrogance, he let her be.
That’s about how the next two weeks went. She’d respond to messages sent by ‘Loki,’ get nasty comments from her boss, and then spend her nights trying not to cry in bed. When responding to ‘Loki’, she tried to make sure she worded it so that he wouldn’t catch on to her being upset. He had enough going on, and she felt bad already for the number of things he’s tried to help with to make things better.
She had to admit she enjoyed her conversations with him, but it started to feel more and more strained, mostly from her side and hoped he wouldn’t pick up on it.
Cora, however, was tired of her trying to pretend everything was fine. She knew her better than that. So rather than call up and invite her to go out, Cora showed up at Lou’s door and practically dragged her to a club. While Lou refused to tell Cora about her problems, she allowed her to buy drinks and waited for Cora to skive off with a gent so that she could go back home.
#tom hiddleston#twh#tomhiddleston#twhiddleston#damn hiddleston#hiddlestoners#thomas william hiddleston#hiddleston#hiddles#loki#sigyn#tom hiddleston fanfiction#tom hiddelston imagine#tom hiddelston x reader#tom hiddelson#tom hiddleston x original female character#tom hiddleston x reader#tom hiddleston x ofc#tom hiddleston x you#james conrad#james conrad AU#james conrad x original female character#james conrad x reader#james conrad x ofc#james conrad x you#regards loki#lulubelle814
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Felt Sculpture Sales and Commissions TOS
I’ve been getting questions about this topic, so here’s the deets!
“Sales” refers to the price I put on my designs/fanart that I make on my own for fun.
“Commissions” refers to designs specifically requested by clients.
Each original piece I put up for sale will be One Of A Kind. (I reserve the right to make an exception to this rule unless the person purchasing the sculpture insists on maintaining OOAK status.)
Pricing, Payment, and Slot availability:
Given the material/time costs for needle felting, I’ll have a max of three slots open with regular updates on social media.
To request a slot or inquire about a purchase, you can either DM this blog or send an email to [email protected].
If slots are full, I will put you on a wait list of 5 names maximum. If commissions are closed, names will not be added to the queue.
Pricing (USD) is based on time, material, and shipping costs.
I do not have a set price scale; a complex design will have a higher price.
I will be using invoices to request payment. I accept Paypal, CashApp, and Venmo.
Payment in full must be completed before your piece is shipped out. I will provide you with photo evidence that your item is being shipped and a tracking number. Packages will require signature on delivery.
Terms of Sales:
When I put something up for sale, it's always first come, first serve.
Inquire about purchase via my email only: [email protected] (gotta have that timestamp!).
Those making a purchase will first be required to fill out a form detailing their payment/shipping information.
Payment in full must be received before your piece is shipped.
Terms of Commissions:
Commissioners will be required to fill out a form to secure a slot and receive a price quote.
Please note that not every design is felt-able; I am more than willing to work with you on how to realize your vision in some form or to come up with an alternative. I’m also willing to make one of my original designs as a commission.
After I’ve given the final quote, commissioners will be required to put down a 30%, non-refundable* deposit in order for me to start work on the piece (*View disclaimer for exceptions).
Commissioners will be given several opportunities to review the design and request changes.
I must receive payment in full before your piece is shipped.
Specialties (what I can or can't do):
Most of my experience is with fantasy creatures, Pokemon, and stylized animals. I’ve done a couple of humanoids but they were also stylized.
Simple, blocky shapes are easiest in this medium, while small details usually require other materials if they are doable at all. Please keep that in mind if you are considering a commission.
Requests for ultra-realistic animals/pets are a bit out of my comfort zone; I’m less likely to accept those.
Disclaimers and Terms of Use:
I reserve the right to refuse a commission request for any reason.
Listed prices of sculptures for sale are non-negotiable.
Time spent working on projects can vary depending on complexity. I will not accept full payment until the piece is complete. Please allow at least a month for completion.
I will not charge more than my final quote if a piece takes me longer than expected.
Deposits on commissions are non-refundable EXCEPT in the case where I, the artist, must cancel the order.
When I have received full payment and shipped the finished artwork, that transaction is considered completed upon delivery and non-refundable.
I retain rights to my original designs. Use of these designs for resale or profit is not allowed.
I may post my work online for promotional purposes.
Clients may post photos of my work; proper credit is required (@lithping or @lithpin on tumblr).
Terms of service are subject to revision. Last updated March 21, 2023.
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I gotta get this out of my brain or it's gonna fester.
Anyone who says anything to the effect of social support systems enabling lazy people who just want a nice lazy lifestyle, or who harps on beneficiary-bashing policy and deciding that we're bottom feeder leeches who need more scrutiny or we'll lie to get money, needs to fuck off and preferably go die in a hole. The experience of trying to get taken seriously as someone with invisible disabilities in even Aotearoa New Zealand's system is dehumanising at best and if I could go to someone else or find something else I would in a heartbeat.
For the last several months I've been trying to move from Jobseeker with medical exemption (which the previous National Party government put almost all disabled clients on and their new government intends to attack anyone on "Jobseeker" if they're not jobseeking despite it being THEM who made it completely incorrectly named) onto the Supported Living Payment, which is the only other option for disabled people. Trouble is, our outgoing left-wing government never fixed that whole problem the Nats made and the criteria for being on the Supported Living Payment, ie the poverty-level scraps afforded those deemed worthy, seems to be that if you're not dying, fuck you.
So my case gets sent to a bureaucratic panel of people I've never met, never will meet, and who know almost nothing about me, who might just be tired after a long day and can't be bothered dealing with anything complicated, whose job it is to decide if I'll be able to afford to get by when I move out.
Oh, and the system has never been properly managed or funded so basic shit like letting me know I needed to give them more information didn't happen until I phoned them after three months of waiting. So I did as best I could, except of course the public health sector is strained at best and no referral for someone who doesn't need in-home care or something is ever going to be taken. So I had to basically get bootleg diagnosis of autism from an only tangentially related youth specialist. Then they needed me to sign a form letting them talk to said specialist and send in a letter explaining to them why I think I'm worthy of support. Got nothing back from that.
Yesterday, I went in for an appointment to figure out shit like moving out. Because y'see, it's almost impossible to afford to on Jobseeker, even with the unintuitively named Temporary Support Payment which I'll be able to get if I get rid of two thirds of my savings. Case worker was twenty minutes late, which was a pretty indicative sign I'd say. And while it wasn't the subject of that appointment, the transfer to SLP came up, so it was discussed briefly.
Before I could even finish my sentence trying to explain to the case worker how my combination of anxiety and autism disable me, the case worker interrupted me and condescended to me over 'everyone has that' style shit before I could even try to explain the difference, and condescended about how everyone deals with that and how can it possibly stop me from working. Remember that severe anxiety as well as autism? Yeah, killer combination, welcome to meltdown town, because that woman had just indicated she was never going to take me seriously, never going to listen to me, would always attempt to gaslight and nitpick me of my life experience in order to find an excuse to deny me support, and my entire financial future depends on my being taken seriously. I couldn't talk for almost the entire remaining appointment, was crying and hoping the snot wouldn't stain my mask visibly, and I had to try to communicate over text by showing her my notes app and try to salvage it.
Obviously, not possible because that's incredibly slow. I was able to show her a maximum of two sentences over that method the entire appointment. What she resorted to was 'okay, I'll send you the questions the SLP team have over email and you can reply to the email via text okay?' Which, credit where credit's due, that's not a bad impulse. That's about the only good thing.
So I go home, stressed and on the verge of bursting into tears the entire time on the bus, and when I get home I write out a long reply email explaining my difficulties, explaining my reaction and asking that she please use it as an example of my fragility to the team, and answering the four questions in as much detail as I could, all with a headache, stressed, still on the verge of tears, and physically disoriented by how overwhelming it all is.
I got a reply to the email today. Decision made. And I learned through a forwarded email whose sender couldn't be bothered punctuating it properly or using my name instead of just calling me "client" (not even the client, just "client") that I will not be moved to SLP, that these fucking CUNTS think my severe anxiety and autism might just go away so I need to get a medical certificate for it every three months to prove my brain hasn't spontaneously started working properly, oh and they asked the case worker to refer me on to a supported employment service despite me telling them over and over that under almost no circumstances would I be capable of working and that even if I did get put into work I wouldn't be able to take basic care of myself at the same time.
I have never in my life felt so dehumanised, not listened to, and reduced down to a few check boxes and some questions those fucks obviously didn't even read. That's all I am to them, and they can't be assed to even use my name or use proper grammar in the correspondence referring to my entire life situation that hinges on their goodwill. I fucking WISH I wasn't dependent on this disgusting, dehumanising, soul-crushing system. I WISH WINZ had competition, so they'd have to treat people like people or they'd go to someone else. I fucking WISH that this system wasn't designed to press everyone even remotely possible into the workforce no matter how harmful it is because their guiding star is that if you're not productive you're barely worthy of a sub-poverty support payment so you can eat - and it might not even be enough for that if you want a roof over your head at the same time, because we've got a combined housing crisis that's lasted a decade now and a cost of living crisis.
Anyone who thinks we need more scrutiny can get fucked.
You know what else I wish? I wish I was physically disabled. It's just like with the emotional abuse I suffered under my parents. They never did anything more than slap me, which wasn't illegal at the time. I don't have a single scar, or notable bruise, or anything. All I have is a broken mind which didn't even have the decency to properly record it all, so instead I end up with memory problems and the inability to even properly explain it. Nothing to point to and say 'look, that's it.' It's the exact same with this. I can't prove a single fucking iota of it. I can't get a single bit of it taken seriously. Because IT'S ALL IN MY FUCKING HEAD. ALL OF IT. I FUCKING WISH I HAD A SINGLE CRUMB OF PROOF, EVEN THE TINIEST THING TO POINT TO AND SAY 'LOOK. YOU CAN SEE I'M BROKEN.' BUT NO.
I have so much fucking anger in me, but most of all for my own existence (and second for the disdainful evil of the social support system). Why did I have to be handed the fucking defective brain, but one that's just broken enough to ruin my ability to be a functioning human being, and not broken enough for anyone in a position to help to believe me and take me seriously? I'm sitting here feeling like every single other person I've met got a handbook on how to be human but I didn't get mine and meanwhile this condescending fuck of a case worker is going on about how everyone has schedules.
Why do I have to be dependent on people who have a disdain for the concept of people like me existing, to whom I can't explain or prove anything about why I need their support, people who think my permanent broken brain shit might go away in three months, but whose support I will always need. There's no room for hope or humanity in these systems for us. Frankly, it's a marvel I'm not suicidal.
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Like a Dream (preview)
HAPPY HOLIDAYS @goddess-aelin!! It’s Yulemas Swap time :) Unfortunately I’m sick right now so the time I’d set aside yesterday to finish everything up turned into resting time, so I’m giving you a preview today and a promise of the full fic within the next few days! I debated rushing the rest of it out today but I wanted to do a good job for you so hopefully this is okay. Have a lovely Yulemas ❤️
———
“I’m sure you’ve wondering been wondering what this is about.”
Rowan shifted uncomfortably. Lorcan, his boss, had requested his presence in his office several hours ago, and the day had passed with relatively little worry.
Even upon seeing Aelin Galathynius, someone whom he very much did not want to be in the same room as, waiting in Lorcan’s office as well, he hadn’t felt concern. It was probably just an update to policy or something similar. Hell, maybe the coffee machine had broken and Lorcan wanted them to inform their departments.
But then Lorcan had greeted them, and asked them to sit, and stated that he knew they’d been curious about the topic of this summons.
And a pit of anxiety had opened in Rowan’s stomach.
Lorcan Salvaterre was not a man to make small talk. He didn’t wait for others, he didn’t bother with light conversation, and he wasn’t friendly.
Which meant he was about to tell Rowan and Aelin something that they wouldn’t like, and not a small thing like they’d have to coordinate a client together or share the break room sometimes, because Lorcan had no trouble breaking bad news. Something worse, something bad enough to have the bluntest man Rowan knew stalling to conversation.
Rowan took a deep breath and said, “What is it?” He didn’t dare look to Aelin beside him.
Lorcan leaned forward and laced his fingers together on the desk. “You both know of Dorian Havilliard.”
Of course they did. He was one of the biggest names in romance writing in the country. Their publishing house had been trying to get him to switch over from Hamel Inc. for years, but they’d had no luck.
“Yes,” Aelin said, and Rowan jolted at the sound of her voice. He finally risked a glance and was met with startling blue eyes rimmed in gold.
Rowan looked away.
“Well, as you know, Terrasen Publishing has been working on him for years.”
Rowan’s fingers tapped against his thigh impatiently as Lorcan restated what he already knew.
“We’ve finally convinced him to discuss the possibility of switching over.”
Considering the meeting, Rowan was hardly surprised. It also made sense for the two of them to be here; Rowan was head of the editorial department and Aelin was his counterpart in publishing. Together, they represented most of the publishing house and were often paired together when it came to potential clients.
It was the easy explanation for this meeting that had Rowan on edge. This didn’t make clear Lorcan’s apprehension.
“And what do we need to do?” Rowan asked cautiously.
Lorcan sighed. “Mr. Havilliard is working on his next book. He predicts the first draft will be finished soon; he’s using his Yulemas vacation to get it completed. And he doesn’t want any delay on the editing process, which means if we haven’t convinced him to switch contracts by the end of his vacation, he’ll remain a part of Hamel Inc.”
A sinking feeling formed in Rowan’s gut.
“He’s leaving for his vacation tomorrow,” Lorcan continued, “and even if we could have managed a short meeting before then, he needs more time with us to discuss logistics and a contract for him. He needs time to see everything we have to offer.”
“I’m sure he’d be open to discussing it over Zoom or even email,” Aelin suggested, and from the waver to her voice Rowan guessed she’d caught on as well.
“Mr. Havilliard is traveling to a resort in the mountains for his vacation, where there will be no cell service. He says the lack of distraction helps him concentrate. He graciously offered two fully paid tickets for any of my employees who would like to join him. You two will be traveling with Mr. Havilliard on his Yulemas trip. You leave first thing in the morning.”
Silence washed over the office as the pair of them took everything in. Rowan opened his mouth, but no words came out.
“I don’t recall expressing my desire to join him,” Aelin protested.
“Me neither,” Rowan managed.
Lorcan sighed once more. “Look, let’s face it. You two aren’t going home to your families for Yulemas and you don’t have any significant others to celebrate with. Everyone else, including myself, is not completely void of a social life and has plans for the holidays. You two are lonely as shit and I’m taking advantage of that.”
Aelin’s mouth had dropped open at some point during that little spiel but Rowan was used to Lorcan’s blunt transparency. He was honestly relieved that Lorcan had given up on trying to break it to them slowly. He liked the man, even—if he could manage to overlook the fact that he was being asked to spend his holidays on a work trip with his least favorite coworker.
Okay, maybe he didn’t like Lorcan so much after all.
“You can’t just,” Aelin spluttered, “I, my vacation, it’s my time off, you can’t…”
“I’m sorry, Ms. Galathynius, but this was his only offer and we’re in no position to deny him. If it helps, Mr. Havilliard alloted only a certain amount of time to meet with you as he wants most of the time to write his novel. And as I mentioned, he paid for the tickets and everything else that comes along with them. You’ll be spending most of your Yulemas holiday in a high-end resort doing whatever the hell you like. I’d say it’s a step up from whatever you were planning to do instead.”
Rowan leaned back in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair anxiously. “Surely not both of us need to go.”
Lorcan glared at him. “Please explain to me the publishing process that Mr. Havilliard will be subject to.”
Rowan just blinked at him.
Lorcan turned to Aelin. “And do you know anything about the editing process?”
“You just… do grammar checks and stuff.”
Rowan cringed at the crass oversimplification of his job.
Facing both of them now, Lorcan said, “He needs every specific detail of every process. Neither of you can do that on your own. Both of you are going. That’s final. Now go home. I’m giving you the rest of the day off to pack, and I’ll email you the information of where you need to go tomorrow morning and at what time. Are we clear?”
Aelin nodded mutely. Rowan was pretty sure he felt himself do the same.
He lived in hell.
First he’d been transferred to a different publishing location six months ago as part of a promotion, only to find an enemy on the very first day. He’d smiled at her and was met with uncalled for distain and malice. The months had passed torturously slowly as the woman who’d shown him so much unkindness on the first day was constantly by his side, coordinating clients, attending work parties at his side, acting as a liaison. And throughout it all she was constantly either bickering with him, or ignoring him, or silently scowling at him. He just couldn’t figure her out.
But of course that wasn’t enough. No, now Rowan was being sent on a Yulemas vacation with Aelin, just the two of them and some eccentric smut writer who would be spending most of his time locked up in a room writing, which left Rowan and Aelin. In a resort with no cell service. Alone.
Only Hellas himself could have been so cruel as to put him in this situation.
———
Tag List:
@aelin-bitch-queen
@autumnbabylon
@charlizeed
@evolving-dreamer
@feysand-loml
@flora-shadowshine
@gracie-rosee
@infernoqueen19
@julemmaes
@leiawritesstories
@lemonade-coolattas
@live-the-fangirl-life
@midsizewitch
@morganofthewildfire
@mybloodrunsblue
@nehemikkele
@realbookloverproblems
@rhysandswingspan
@rowaelinismyotp
@rowanaelinn
@sexy-dumpster-fire
@sleeping-and-books
@story-scribbler
@swankii-art-teacher
@thegreyj
@the-lonelybarricade
@thenerdandfandoms
@yesdreamblog
@rowaelinyulemasswap
#rowaelin#tog#like a dream#snippet#YULEMAS SWAP!!#i’m so sorry but i promise the full fic very soon#i will have plenty of time tomorrow and the day after and i’m already feeling better
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