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harryistheonlyoneforme · 8 months

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maison*

warnings: smut, sleepy sex, creampie, cockwarming

summary: in which harry returns home after being away and just wants to be close to his wife

pairing: ceo harry x reader

a/n: maison is the french word for home

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yn stirs awake as she feels the bed dip beside her, jostling her body just a bit. her eyes are still closed despite her being mostly awake, and she nearly jumps out of her skin as she feels warmth hover over her before arms are being wrapped around her. she finally pops her eyes open when she can feel harry breathing against her face, something she absolutely hates.

“i’m sorry, honey. didn’t mean to wake you, just wanted to love on you a bit,” he apologizes, but she knows he can’t feel too bad as he begins peppering sweet kisses all over face and down to her neck. he smiles against her as she huffs halfheartedly, taking a glance around the room and seeing that the sun is out, but not too bright. she knows that his flight landed at 5am, so it should be around 6 now.

“‘s too early,” she groans, but she can’t stop herself from reaching up and playing with his hair a bit, following his head as his kisses get lower and lower the more feverish they become. she has a bad habit of falling asleep straight out the shower without putting clothes on, and for once harry doesn’t give her a lecture about if something happens while she’s sleeping; this time, he uses that to his advantage.

he hums against her skin before nipping at her bare shoulder. “never to early to love on my wife, missed you so much,” he mumbles. he’d been gone for an entire week in another state for a press conference, and they’d only been able to sneak in some brief calls in between speeches and before he heads to bed. all of the fancy dinners and boring conversations only made him miss her that much more.

she wraps her arms around him but ultimately loosens her grip when he goes lower, his kisses traveling to the dip between her breasts. her breathing is picking up now, her back arching up into him just a bit when he ghosts right over her nipple, but his lips move to the skin right around it. that pulls a whimper from her chest but he doesn’t pay any attention to it as he moves lower and lower, past her belly and her hips, until he’s eye level with her center but he doesn’t do anything.

“missed you too. please, do something,” she’s growing desperate now, the amount of teasing irritating her just a bit. he woke her up but is teasing her, it’s unfair.

“yeah? y’gonna let me make you feel good? gonna let your husband take care of you?” he rasps, feeling his cock twitch against the sheets. she only whines and nods in agreement, bucking her hips to meet his mouth.

“yes, i want that,” she gasps, feeling him gently nip at one of her dampening folds before spreading her open to get a good look at her clit. she shakes her head at that, though, tapping his shoulders to get his attention. “no, don’t want you to eat me out, need you inside,” she explains, and harry grunts in annoyance as he’d take any excuse to have his face between her thighs but he can never say no to her.

“y’such a brat,” he rasps, but his words hold no weight as he slips his boxers down his legs and kicks them somewhere at the foot of the bed. he begins to move up her body until he’s lying beside her. “roll over, gonna take you like that,” he instructs. she’s immediately turning over until they’re face to face and getting comfortable, and harry wastes no time in propping her leg up over his hip. angling his hips, he swipes the head of his clock through her folds, pulling a whine from deep inside her chest.

pressing his lips to hers, he lines himself up with her before inching in slowly, the both of their mouths falling open at the slight stretch. she feels so warm around him and he makes her feel so full. he gives her a moment to get accustomed to him before he’s holding onto her hip and pulling out just a bit and pushing back in m, even deeper. that single thrust sends her reeling, her hands flying to his shoulders for a bit of stability as he starts to fuck her.

“feel so fuckin’ good around me, ‘s unreal,” he gasps against her lips, pressing kisses to her open mouth. the moment the praise leaves his lips, the loudest moan he’s heard all night falling from hers. she couldn’t speak even if she wanted to, the way he’s filling her so deeply taking her breath away. the two fall into silence as harry keeps an eye on her to monitor how she’s reacting to him, save for the sounds of their moans and grunts with each meeting of their hips.

he knows she’s close when she gets this deep furrow in her brows and her leg twitches slightly against his hip, but he doesn’t even need to coax it from her any longer as she just tenses up against him and locks down on his cock with no further warning.

“that’s it, angel. i’ve got you,” he coos, holding her tight against him as she finally lets go, the evidence of her orgasm being the ring of arousal she leaves at the base of his cock when she does. his thrusts never falter as he works her through the entire thing. not until he can feel the beginning of his orgasm creeping up on him. “feel so good around me, gonna fill you up,” his words are choppy as his cock begins to twitch inside of her.

he can’t even provide her with anymore words as his orgasm takes over, a broken moan leaving his lips as his cum leaves his tip in warm spurts, her still fluttering hole milking him as he fills her. he continues gently rutting into her until he has no more left in him, slumping against the pillow when he’s finished. he doesn’t want to pull his softened cock from her but he knows the position will get unbearable after a while, so he makes the decision to move them.

holding her tight and rolling them over, harry maneuvers them until he’s on his back with her stop him, making sure he stays inside her the whole time. the angle change makes her whine in overstimulation but he’s shushing her with a kiss to the top of her head. “i know, ‘m sorry. just gonna stay like this now, i won’t move again,” he promises.

a chill runs through her body and she starts to shiver against him, causing him to frown slightly before reaching for the blanket to cover them with. once she’s warm, she’s out against his chest in mere minutes, her soft snores tickling the light hairs on his chest. he just takes a few moments to admire her, his eyes taking in every single one of her features as his eyes get heavier and his breaths begin to even out. the last thing he sees before he succumbs to the slumber is the little subconscious scrunch of her nose as she feels his breath on her face, and a small, lazy smile forms on his face as his head falls back onto the pillow.

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icanthocusfocus · 10 months

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Hey tumblrinas (and redditors). Random question but does anyone have Steve Huffman’s address? Totally fine if you don’t. Hypothetically if someone did have Stevie’s address, and they responded to him on Reddit WITH that address, what would happen?

#reddit #steve huffman #reddit migrants #reddit migration #protest #doxxing #ceo aesthetic #advice #questions #accessibility

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iamzainrefat · 1 year

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65 Digital Marketing Tools To Simply Your Life

(Instant Bookmarked it)

SEO

1. Google Search Console

2. Keyword Planner

3. Moz

4. Ahref

5. Semrush

6. Keyword Everywhere

7. Ubersuggest

Paid Advertising Tools

8. Google Ads

9. Facebook Ads Manager

10. Wordstream

11. Bing Ads Editor

12. AdEspresso

Analytics & Reporting Tools

13. Google Analytics

14. Kissmetrics

15. Zoho Analytics

16. Spring Metrics

17. Social Blade

18. Iconsquare

19. Facebook creator studio

Social Media Marketing Tools

20. Buffer

21. Hootsuite

22. Sprout Social

23. Buzzsumo

24. Mention

25. Facebook Business Suite

CopywritingTools

26. Hemingway Editor

27. Grammarly

28. Thesaurus

29. Wordcounter

30. Subject Line Tester

31. Copi ai

32. ChatGPT

33. Wordtune

Graphic Design tools

34. Canva

35. Adobe Photoshop

36. Adobe Illustrator

37. Figma

38. Gravit Designer

39. Corel Draw

40. Pixlr

41. Gimp

42. Crello

43. Snappa

Email Marketing Tools

44. Mailchimp

45. SendinBlue

46. Hubspot

47. Hotjar

48. Getresponse

49. MailerLite

Video Editing Tools

50. Adobe Premiere pro

51. Shotcut

52. Filmora

53. Veed io

54. Blender

Marketing Automation Tools

55. Hubspot Marketing Automation

56. ActiveCampaign

57. Drip

58. Autopilot

59. Marketo

60. Zapier

Branding Tools

61. Adobe Spark

62. Tailorbrands

63. Brandmark

64. Namecheap

65. LogoMaker

#marketing #google #advatising #digital business #self improvement #search engine optimisation company #ceo aesthetic #digitalmarketing #website design #ecommerce #programming #mobileappdevelopment

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sushijimaaa · 1 year

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WIP

“Seriously,” Lo’s voice was laced with mischief, a smirk playing on his annoyingly stupid face. “C’mon now, love. Quit trying to make this all my fault. You and I both know that you were into this.”

#ocs #oc stuff #oc #oc headcanon #head canon #WIP #quotes #lovers #boys #sunshine bf #grumpy gf #enemies to lovers #rivals #architect #architecture #ceo #ceo aesthetic

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youtuber-shoryu-itazu · 1 year

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#music

#音楽好きな人と繋がりたい #投資 #投資家 #プロフェッショナル #作曲家 #ピアニスト #instagram #ceo aesthetic #‘mainstay’ retailer is ’10 years too late’ to fix ‘hemorrhaging wound’ after ceo revealed it’s on the brink of collapse

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amaretrapp · 1 year

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2023 What Will It Be…….

It’s a new year so it’s time to start new. Know that you can control small parts of your future. It’s time to start a new era of yourself. Know that you are powerful. You are strong. You can do whatever you set your heart to do. As long as we stay positive and keep striving for our goals anything can happen. Also let’s remove anything that’s negative out of our lives. If we have individuals that are not doing anything for us but giving us a toxic relationship/environment, it means that it’s time for them to be removed. Surround yourself with people who are clapping for you instead of hating.

#loveyourself #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #level up #getting your life together #powerful woman #you are in control #know your worth #you are beautiful #you are worthy #Spotify

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designerdollar · 1 year

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Don't relegate valuable personalities to such cheap slums.🍁 _𝓀𝒶𝓏𝒾 𝐹𝒶𝒾𝓏 𝒜𝒽𝓂𝑒𝒹

@designerdollar

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csuitebitches · 3 months

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Level Up Pyramid.

I will never stop yapping about how important it is to get your basics right. If your base routine is not solid, no matter what you add on to it, it will never be sustainable.

most of us get motivated in the middle of the night, build an elaborate routine that we’ll follow for less than 2 days and we’re back to square one.

I get so many asks about girls getting stressed over their routine and how they should solve the issue. If your routine is stressing you out, you need to cut. It. Down.

this is a pyramid that will teach you to get the basics down and in what order.

if your foundation is strong, your base routine will be an unshakeable of your life. if it is an unshakeable part of your life, you will slowly but surely get better at those things. as you get better at those things, your confidence will increase. as your confidence increases, you will be ready and motivated to take on more challenges.

#c suite #strong women #powerful woman #ceo aesthetic #personal growth #productivity #getting your life together #that girl #balance #Routine #confidence #level up #glow up #2024

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harryistheonlyoneforme · 1 year

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Just A Little Taste*

pairing: masseuse harry x reader

warnings: smut, oral(female receiving), swearing

Walking into the front door of the massage parlour, YN is greeted by the smell of flowers and essential oils as she proceeds further into the building. Everything around her is white and organized, not a single thing stained or out of place. She’s a little afraid to walk on the clean, shiny floor, not wanting to scuff it up or get it dirty.

Her hands are shaky with nerves as she makes her way to the front desk to see where she needs to go. The older woman, whose name tag reads Jessica, greets her with a bright smile.

“Hello, welcome! What can I do for you today?” she asks, her white manicured nails tapping against the counter lightly to the rhythm of some sort of elevator music that is playing in the lobby.

“Hi, I have an appointment for 2:30. My name is YN YLN,” she greets back, wringing her hands together as she awaits further instruction.

Jessica nods and turns to her computer, typing away until she nods and hums in recognition. “Alright, I see you on the list. I’m going to go ahead and get you checked in and then you can take a seat over there on one of our couches. Someone will be out very shortly to escort you, and I hope you enjoy your time,” she explains, YN thanking her with a smile before walking away.

She takes a seat on the empty couch, and it’s so soft she could fall asleep right then and there. Trying to stay awake, she decides to grab a magazine from the large stack beside her. Getting the first one, she opens it up, seeing that the main article is about chakras and the importance of female orgasms. Her entire neck and face heat up, but she’s unable to put it down, genuinely intrigued by the words on the page.

There are masturbation tips, best sex positions for orgasm, and even sex you coupons. She takes one out and slips it into her purse, ready to put it to good use later. Not long afterwards, a woman steps out from a hallway and heads over to her with a blinding, gorgeous smile on her face.

“Hello, YN. I’m Emma, and I’ll be escorting you to your private room if that’s alright with you,” she says, and YN is greeting her before gathering her belongings and standing up to follow the energetic woman.

The two make polite conversation as they walk down a long white hallway lined with rooms until they get to the very end, into a room that looks like a fancy suite.

On the way into the room, her steps falter as she reads the name on the door. ‘Harry Styles’. There’s no way she booked a man, is there? Thinking back to what she booked, she hangs her head in frustration as she realizes it said ‘H. Styles’.

Interrupting her thoughts, Emma gives her another bright smile. “Well, this is it. All you have to do is undress completely and place the towel over your backside. Mr. Styles should be in shortly, I hope you enjoy,” she exclaims, leaving behind one last blinding smile before she’s leaving and giving YN the privacy she needs. A sigh leaves her lips as the door clicks shut.

This can’t be real life she thinks as she undresses shakily, grabbing the soft towel from the table and lying down on it, placing it over her body.

YN is lying face down on the massage table in the freezing cold room, shivering with just a fluffy white towel covering her backend. Nerves fill her body with each inhale, her heart hammering inside her chest.

As she tries to calm herself down, she runs her fingers over the leather of the table, the slight scratching acting as a distraction. She’s especially nervous because she’s never gotten a full body deep tissue massage, and the fact that she’d accidentally booked a male was plaguing her mind. She decides to close her eyes and relax against the table, trying to clear her mind.

No later than a minute after she closes her eyes, her body tensing up once more as she hears the door slide open and her nose is filled with the scent of cologne. It isn’t too strong, but it isn’t too faint either. The scent makes her body visibly relax, and she hears a deep chuckle from across the room.

“Y’like the cologne, eh?” the smooth voice speaks from behind her. YN literally almost moans out loud at the deep timbre, his accent mixed with the cologne making her head spin. She nods against the table and subtly -or so she thinks- squeezes her thighs together, trying to prevent a lot of wetness from forming between them. It’s pathetic, really, how she’s instantly at this man’s mercy and she hasn’t even seen his fucking face.

What she doesn’t know is that Harry was floored the second he entered the room and saw her lying there. He doesn’t know what it is about her, but there’s something so enthralling that makes him unable to take his eyes off of her. And when he saw her clench her thighs together at his voice, it stroked his ego so well and he had to refrain from pounding her into the table right then and there.

He walks around to the end of the table, his eyes on the swell of her ass. Heat bubbles deep in his belly as he sees that she doesn’t have the towel on correctly, giving him a glimpse of her bare ass and vagina.

Before he makes a decision he’s going to regret, he plucks the towel down a bit to cover her up and clears his throat.

“So, I’m Harry, and I’ll be your masseuse today. What brings you in, darling?” he asks, preparing his cart with all of his oil.

YN’s eyes nearly roll back into her head at the pet name, words escaping her for a moment before she’s finally processing his words.

“Well, um, I’ve been really stressed lately, and tense all over. My friend could tell I was having a rough time, so she suggested I go and get a massage, so that’s how I ended up here,” she responds shakily, trying to keep her voice level.

“Ah, I see,” he hums, popping the cap on the oil. “Are there any places you want me to focus on specifically? I’m going to work on all of the tense places I can feel, but if you feel that there are any places that need special attention, just let me know now,” he speaks, pouring some of the slightly warm liquid into his hand.

“The only places that have been bothering me are my lower back and my thighs,” she responds and Harry nods even though she can’t see him, rubbing his hands together.

“Alright, I’ll keep that in mind. Is it okay for me to start?” he questions, and she nods her head. “I need your words, darling. Consent is key,” he teases.

“Yes, you can start. Sorry,” she corrects herself, embarrassment flooding her mind.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, pressing his hands into her lower back and massaging there. The combination of his praise and his fingers have her moaning out loud, her body relaxing. “Y’like that, hm? I bet, it’s real tense right in here,” he grunts, digging in a bit harder.

He takes his time and works out each knot in her lower back, seeing her relax with each press of his fingers. When he’s done, he moves to the centre of her back, repeating his actions.

“You’re so tense,” he says, rubbing out each knot in the centre of her back before doing her neck and shoulders, ready to move down to her thighs.

Getting a bit more oil, he rubs it in before moving down further, placing his hands on her thighs and starting to rub gently. By the time he’s done, he doesn’t even need to squint his eyes to see the wetness glistening i’m front of him.

“I’m also sensing some tension right in here,” he murmurs, lightly rubbing over her ass. “Is it okay if I continue?” he asks, getting permission from her.

He spreads her ass cheeks open a bit to get some oil all over, a moan bubbling in his chest as the action separates her folds, a string of wetness connecting them. All he wants to do is lick between them, just a little taste. And he, not being one to shy away from an opportunity, asks her if he can.

“Can I taste you?” he asks bluntly, hearing a gasp leave her lips.

“I’m sorry?” she asks, taken aback by his words. There’s no way he just said that, right? To her?

“You’re so fucking gorgeous and I’d really like to eat y’pussy. If that’s okay with you, of course,” he answers, letting go of her ass cheeks and letting them fall back together.

A moan leaves her lips at how blunt he is, nodding her head. “Fuck, please do,” she answers, and he wastes absolutely no time before he’s spreading her ass cheeks once more and diving in. He licks a bold stripe up her dripping folds, moaning at the taste of her. Her puckered hole is right in front of his face, but he leaves it alone, not knowing if she’s comfortable with that.

Pulling away, he licks his lips as he basks in the taste of her on his face. His cock is rock hard and he’s give anything to fuck her, but he needs her to cum first.

“Can you get on y’back for me, please?” he rasps, desperate to see all of her. She nods and flips over, and Harry’s cock is twitching violently and leaking precum at the sight of her perfect breasts, and her legs open wide, waiting for him. Trailing his eyes down further, his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head as he sees a bit of hair residing on her pubic area, and he can’t resist reaching up to touch the coarse hair.

He wants so badly to see his cum paint the little hairs white, but that’ll have to wait for another time. Getting into position, he places her legs on his shoulders before instantly mouthing at her again, sucking gently on her clit. Her whines and moans spur him on, and when she starts to grind against his face, he looks up her body to watch her movements.

Seeing her hands playing with her nipples, he shakes his head against her slightly before reaching upward and moving them out of the way, taking over. He pinches them lightly between his fingers, tweaking them slightly. The action mixed with his mouth working wonders between her legs as her back arching and her hands holding onto either side of the table, her grip tight.

“Fuck, I’m about to cum,” she warns, her voice getting higher in pitch with each swipe of his tongue. He groans into her at her words, hoping it’ll get her there faster, and it does. At the feeling of his voice vibrating through her body, she’s tensing up and her orgasm is flooding his mouth. He drinks down ever drop, savouring the taste of her. When she whimpers in overstimulation, he’s pulling back slowly and hesitantly, still wanting to taste her.

He rubs up and down her bare sides, helping her come down from her orgasm with his gentle touch. The second she comes down, she’s letting out a breathy laugh, making Harry look at her in confusion.

“If I get treated like that every time, I’ll definitely be coming back soon,” she explains, making Harry let out a loud belly laugh at her adorableness.

“You will, just ask for Harry when you book the appointment,” he says cheekily, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to her lips. She deepens it before she’s whimpering against his lips at the taste of herself. She grinds against her gently and bites down onto her lip, but not hard enough to hurt.

Pulling away, YN reaches for the waistband of his pants, looking to him for permission.

#harry styles fic #harry styles fic rec #harry styles smut #harryistheonlyoneforme #smut #harry styles filth #dbf harry styles #harry styles #harry related writings #masseuse harry #masseuse harry styles #ceo au #ceo aesthetic #ceo harry styles smut #dbf harry #dbf!harry #oh-sofarfromhome #reblog #fic rec

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venompinks · 3 months

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LISA ★ CEO OF LLOUD

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running-with-kn1ves · 2 months

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Can we get part 3 of CEOx reader? That story is so good‼️‼️

A/N: had a lot of reqs for Edira which really surprised me! Here's a short thang for her <3

CW: Toxic forced relationship, power imbalance, burns via coffee, blackmail and possessive behavior.

Synopsis: your boss-slash-lover-slash-blackmailer returns from a business trip acting more off-putting than usual. Comfort angst ensues.

The humdrum of life can drone on quite monotonously, with the same routine and the same budget and the same people always surrounding you. Lucky for you, the moment you started feeling an inkling of typicality, of normalcy in your stressed and starved life, something swung in through the window and began breaking every peace of solitude and calmness you had established. Fate, or otherwise established as Edira-- you're melogomanic, secretly needy and outwardly aloofly intimidating girlfriend-- snatched away the livelihood you once knew as that of the common fool.

It was first her schemes in pretending to play “date”, and then her idea to move in together. You, an office worker with the resolve of a clownfish, were now put into close proximity with her 24/7. From a tense and barking boss at work, to a wordless romantic in her luxury minimalist penthouse, the struggle to keep up with the sudden workload of being her assistant and her stress-relief of a partner was almost too much to manage. Coffee, kisses, shoulder massages, copied papers of last month’s expenditures. The work didn’t end, and if it did, something was wrong.

Today, you had finally gotten a morning alone without the battering Edira suffocating you awake with blonde bed hair and slightly conscious nips at your shoulder. She had been away at a work conference with the heads of smaller company branches. You would have been brought along with, if Edira didn’t fear so much for the collapse of her corporate tower without one of you manding the deck. So you stayed, one night of freedom, one morning of peace.

You expected her to be gone for the rest of the day, coming back mid-afternoon like she had said, returning to the apartment to unpack her small gatherings. However, your opening of her opaque office door this morning left that reality checked.

“Edira?” You choked, holding a half-empty cup of coffee. You swallowed down your surprise, hoping she didn’t hear the small disappointment at the end of your tone.

“Yes?” She sighed, sounding…off. She usually had a wild rant to get off her chest when she was away, every person in the city managing to piss her off or step on her toes.

“I thought you’d be at the apartment.” You shut the door behind you, taking in the mess of paperwork all over her desk. Yikes, she was going to need more than a drink to de-stress her tonight. “Remember, I told you I had things handled here.”

You walked to her office chairs, ones that were hardly ever used unless for soon-to-be-fired employees. Or in your case, to be straddled, or do the straddling in.

You were about to sit, putting your coffee mug down. But Edira rose as soon as the glass cup reached her dark cherrywood desk, pushing past her swiveling chair, brushing hair out of her face as she naturally stomped away. Her heels made a certain muffled thump that you had learned to predict, the kind that you could hear from across the hall and gain a spike in your heart from. She opened her office door with a ripping harshness that made you think she'd start chasing someone down. You swiftly followed after her down the hall to the front of the rows of cubicles her underlings made their homes in.

You were practically jogging to catch up to her, making it all the more startling when she made a sudden stop at where she usually addressed the office team. Your face hit the back of her smooth linen blazer, hot coffee spraying down your arms and onto your chest. Having held your sizzling mug out in front of you to avoid spilling, you didn’t foresee such a violent halt throwing you off balance, the mug falling from your hands to ‘clink clink’ onto the rug.

“Please don’t break---” You whispered before it had dropped, missing the flying coffee stinging your chest and fingers. Cleaning up glass off the office rug would be an experience of shame you didn't want to face. Your mind worried about another one of Edira’s chastisements for this mistake, now that her sour mood was deepened more than usual.

The commotion and noise of your spill stopped Edira in her stomping tracks, turning to look back at you for the first time. She saw your baby blue blouse doused in brown, your fingers shaking as you bent down to pick up the empty mug.

You started to feel the burning, like ant bites covering everywhere but weren’t able to be rubbed off. You tried to stop the stinging on your fingers by rubbing it against your pants, but your chest was burning hot.

“What did you do?” Edira asked, the room going silent. Your coworkers winced at the sight of you, the others holding their breaths with wide eyes and wondering what the Queen of Chaos was going to yell at you for now. As if they weren’t all held to ridiculous standards, hers for you were impossibly high, and it showed in more places than just your shared cold penthouse.

“Just spilled…” You mumbled, wondering how you were ever going to get this dark stain out of the polyester covering the floor. It was already drying, not much stickier than the rest of you. You stayed on the ground, trying to rub it out with your sleeve. It was getting cold and fast; you didn’t have one of those wet vacuums, paper towels wouldn’t soak up all that had been embellished into the rug by now. Were you going to spend another night in the office? Paperwork, coffee-- your only friends, and this spilled disaster the only thing you’d see until the sun. The silent creaks of swivel chairs and a dropped pencil didn’t distract from the eyes on you, Edira still looming over as she watched your sleeves turn a dirty brown. “Won’t come out…”

The tears came before you could stop them, mouth forming a permanent frown as your nose scrunched. ‘Don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry don’t cry--’

“Get up.” Edira was down next to you, a knee and a heel blocking your view as she held her hand out to you. She didn’t sound pissed, like before. Or even more so like you had expected because of this fiasco.

“But the rug--”

“I’m not going to let you stay huddled on this floor..-- what are you looking at, get back to work!”

You felt her manicured fingers place onto your shoulder, the other hand jabbing a finger at one of her underlings.

You did as she said, looking at the spill as your knees quaked to get up.

“You’re a mess, look at your neck,” She turned your ashamed head, your eyes never leaving the floor. “This might be worth a hospital trip.” She mumbled, sounding more caring than you had ever heard her once before.

Man. your first night alone, first morning of peace, and you managed to make a fool of yourself. Edira pulled your elbow, keeping you close as you slowly walked with her back to her office. The trickle of keyboard typing came back as natural as birds singing at dawn, a phone ringing with desperate need as someone came walking by you.

You kept your eyes down; the burning on your collar and fingers now a buzzing numbness. Edira opened the opaque door with her name in golden, ushering you inside with a firm hand on your back. You dragged your feet coming in, wondering if maybe now you could cry.

Edira shut the door as soon as you were far enough in, barely missing you by a hair.

“Guess this is what happens when I'm gone for too long, hm. You turn into jello, unable to hold a cup?” She sighed, having to pull your arm to shove you next to one of the chairs in front of her desk.

“..Sorry…” You mumbled, but you couldn’t really care less, numbing yourself to the beratement that was only a mere few seconds away.

That feeling to cry subsided, but a heavy weight filled your chest, and now you just wanted the day to be over. But it was only 9:55, an hour not yet having even gone by. How were you going to sit here like this? If Edira had any ounce of the “love” she swore to the media she had for you, or even an inch of sympathy, maybe she’d spare you the echoing shouts your coworkers often heard for mistakes like this.

But she ignored your sad apology.

“Here, let's get you cleaned up,” She murmured to you, like a wild beast with her hands out in front of her. She slowly placed them on your shoulders, making you sit on the edge of her desk. “Get out of these dirty clothes; at least this is an excuse to see your body after a day of solitude. Only had scruffy faces and wrinkles to look at lately.” She tried to joke, scoffing at her own words as she watched you frown.

She was more silent than you had expected, angry aura not seeping out of her like when she usually attempted to hide it.

“...Aren’t you gonna get mad?” You fiddled with your dirty shirt hem, your ironed collar falling off to your shoulders as the buttons Edira undid came to an end; with the last piece she unbuttoned, you were practically naked --save for your pants-- in her office.

The only thing that could make this day worse is if someone walked in.

“Please don’t wait for my sake, I don't think i’ll be able to take it later.”

You just wanted to hear her complain, hear her say how much of a fuckup you were and then have her avoid talking to you for the rest of the day.

“I’m not that mad..” She said, a warm, white washcloth rubbing at your forearm. When did she get that? While you were moping?

The flesh of your wounds was darker, stinging each time the rough cloth rubbed against it. “It was an accident. Besides, it was probably my fault.”

Wait. Did she really just say that?

You wanted her to say it again, to finish it off even with an “i’m sorry I made your life this way,” but anything of that sort was not even close to being on the table.

You hesitantly kept your accusatory thoughts at bay. “Why do you say that?”

Edira sighed, turning over your half-clean arms. “Because, I was being a bitch. acting all pissed off and making you walk on your tippy toes around me. If you haven’t figured it out already, the meeting in Portland didn’t go well. At all.”

Wow. Did she really call herself a bitch? You knew today was not going like how you expected, but this was a different kind of a surprise.

“I don’t feel bad about you not calling me at all last night, though. You know better than that.”

You felt her lean in close to your ear, breasts pulled tight in her office shirt that was pressed against you.

“Gonna have to make it up to me tonight…. I missed that pretty little mouth of yours more than I thought I would.”

You looked down at her, Edira’s face lower than yours and dangerously close to your naked, burned chest. Through blonde lashes she looked at you, tongue at the corner of her mouth.

“Don’t say that, unless you mean it. I’m just a ploy to you.” You said bitterly.

Her pinkish tongue came to perk between soft lips, devilishly teasing the hot spot on your skin. You winced a tad when she poked it with her tongue, only to run it up the coffee-covered spot to your shoulder.

“What do I have to do to make you believe it, pet?”

One hand pressed into your thigh with the rag, the other holding your neck as she cleaned you.

A strong ‘hmph’ left her ajar lips, French tips undoing the top of her blouse.

“What are you doing?” putting a hand to her collar you looked at her, bewildered.

“What? We don't have the floor meeting for another hour..” she undid the top buttons despite your hand on her breast, feeling the lacey bra underneath. “Never taken you in my office before.. sounds like fun.”

“But, wait, my--ive got like, first degree burns--” You tried to push your knees together, keeping her at a distance as you sat on the dark desk. It was surprisingly clean, a neat stack of papers on the opposite end with her laptop sitting perfectly on top; this wasn't how it looked when you first got in here. “Don't tell me you were planning this.”

Your boss's hands entrapped your sides, her knee coming up against the desk. She was cornering you, making you scoot farther onto the cherrywood with a vicious look In her eyes.

“You know me, I'll be as gentle… as I can, sweetling.” Her fine teeth nipped at your ear, running past it to press soft kisses to your hot skin. She ran a hand down your bare back, sending prickled shivers just to set you on edge.

“Just stay quiet, baby. Can't let them hear you,” she tiptoed delicate fingers down to your navel, past your belly button to your lower abdomen. “unless you want them to.”

You shoved at her for a moment, Scooting directly down the desk to escape her; Edira merely stared back through her dark, deep eyes. With an anticipating lick of her upper lip, she pounced.

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sexy-celestial · 2 years

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Nothing I want more than a SUCCESSFUL business.

I dream about my marketing and how I want to appeal to my target audience. How my sales are organic and grow organically because the word of mouth and how people rave about using it.

I dream of the graphics and creating the most unique images to promote to my product. Each drop is a story I want my customers to relate to.

I want billboard after billboard. I want commercials. I want magazine articles. I want ads all over social media. I want my business to have so much exposure.

I want stands and storefronts. I want my items on display. These products deserve to be seen and used by the world. I want a storefront so unique that it’s featured worldwide.

I want to be a inspiration to the audience watching me. I want to set an example. I want to show that authenticity and individualism is what set’s you apart. Don’t be conformed to being like everyone else.

I’m ready to have a office and warehouse. I can see myself now fulfilling orders and handling meetings. I want to fully attract the right team of people to help grow and run my business better.

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vintagepeoms · 4 months

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༺🗒📃🕯️🧾༻

#office #office siren #aesthetic #lawyer #ceo #waifspo #femme #femme fatale #girlboss fr #girlblogger

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expulence · 3 months

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tokyoundone · 11 months

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youtube

Chapter 1: Arrival, Aoyama Crossing, Aaryan Shah- Renegade

Seta asked the taxi driver to stop off a few blocks early at the cross-section of the busy Aoyama district, recoiling as the stifling heat slammed into her. Several Tokyo summers later, it hadn't gotten any easier. She took in a deep breath of muggy air and adjusted her jumpsuit, pulling the burning, gold necklace away from her skin. The faint scent of tobacco lingered on her fingers from the change the driver had offered in his neat, white, cotton gloves.

Glancing around she searched for bearings, picturing the map she'd glanced at earlier in her flat. Tonight, she'd be meeting her boss and clients for a Friday get-together. A nice change from seeing the usual faces. In reality, after a long week of relentless meetings she'd rather have been heading to a club where a favourite DJ was headlined to spin. But it would have to wait. Work was work and Mr. Moriyama expecting her.

She peered up at the road signs, waiting for some kind of epiphany. The pretty Japanese Kanji stared back with a mocking gaze. She scanned the area again, oblivious to the looks thrown in her direction. Being distracted allowed passers-by ample time to drink in her natural beauty like an Asahi beer on a humid summer's day.

This night better be worth it, she muttered.

Her lithe frame felt heavy in the suffocating warmth. She looked down at her heels, wishing she'd changed into them once she'd reached the restaurant. Wishing she'd asked the driver to drop her straight there. Wishing she was somewhere else, altogether. She shrugged and smiled. There'd have been no challenge in that. She liked to make things a little difficult. To see what the Universe would throw in her path when she deviated from plans.

Soon, she'd be welcomed by cool, manufactured air, she consoled herself. She'd never wanted a hit of that air-con ventilation more than now. Licking her parched lips, she eyed up four potential side streets. And waited. Ten seconds passed by. She counted silently. 16, 17, 18...19. Three office workers appeared from one of the narrow alleys. She smiled and began moving again.

Usually, she gave the mostly all male parties with a few token office ladies, or 'candy floss' as she likened them, a wide berth. Tonight was different. She recalled Mr. Moriyama's promise earlier in the afternoon.

"Seta, may I remind you of tonight's event? I know there will be people looking forward to meeting you."

"You're just trying to get me to come to the party, aren't you, Mr. Moriyama?" she had asked, lifting her eyebrows in mock suspiciousness.

"Well, yes, of course, your company is always a delight. But I do believe you will have a good time, there will be some interesting guests present."

"More interesting than you? Unlikely!" she had replied.

How did he manage to always do it, she wondered in half admiration, half despair. He had roped her into another client event. Again. She knew the drill by now. Conversation, food, over-drinking, awkward 'flirting'- her cue to leave- followed by karaoke and usually some kind of scandal the employees would be gossiping about come the following week. And for her part, Seta always slipped away before the atmosphere got rowdy. Thirty minutes before the men in the group used alcohol as an excuse to behave out of bounds.

She had a radar for that kind of thing. The moment between three to four drinks verging on one drink too many. No, thank you. She had far better ways to entertain herself on a Friday evening. But she liked Mr. Moriyama; letting him down was not an option. And so here she was, in an exclusive part of Tokyo, instead of partying it up with like-minded clubbers.

She inhaled the heavy air and separated the hair matted to the back of her ballerina neck. She'd need a haircut soon. For a second time, she looked down at her sex on legs attire, wishing she could rip it off. To the roving eye her outfit looked closer to nightclub gear than semi-formal work garb. Tight. Form fitting. Risqué. It would not come without its complications.

Whenever groups of both sexes came together at social functions, the girls were either interested in or threatened by her. Usually both. Hopefully the ladies tonight were different and would not bite. She half smiled at her naiveté. Here's to tonight. She raised an invisible hand with an invisible glass to herself.

Earlier in the evening, back at her very studio-y studio apartment, she'd decided on the form-fitting, one-piece jumpsuit. It accentuated her shape, skimming her yoga-toned legs. Gold, thin heels added glamour and a hint of naughtiness to the covered up outfit. Her periods were on their way making her feel even more aroused than the other three weeks of the month.

Damn it.

She should have played with herself. Right on cue, she felt a throbbing at the thought of her own touch. And a sudden flutter of excitement at the prospect of tonight's event, surprising herself. Evenings such as this were a dime a dozen. Like drunk salary men splayed out on the trains in the early hours of a quiet Saturday morning. Lingers of their boozy Friday night hanging cheaply in the air. So why did she feel the sense of something good to come? Mr. Moriyama didn't usually bait her with the lure of interesting guests. He'd say, "Seta, I'll be there." She'd smile at his confidence and that was that. Arm officially twisted into acquiescence.

She opened the door of the izikaya. It was somewhere in-between a bar stroke dining style restaurant frequently crowded with Japanese office workers. A familiar sound greeted her from nearby staff.

"Irrashaimase!" Welcome!

With confident strides a young male waiter approached her, beating his female colleague to it. He was in his late twenties. Wore all black. A silver stud gleamed from his left earlobe. Eyebrows slashed with precise razor strikes. He was aware of his looks and casually scrutinized her in the usual way of assured Japanese men. Self-controlled with a mere hint of interest in the eye. Seta read between the lines: what was her business entering such an establishment unescorted?

He asked Seta if she was joining a group. She nodded yes. His eyes sweeped down to her provocative heels and she reluctantly readied to remove them. It would take away the sex factor of her figure hugging ensemble, the whole entire point in wearing the outfit but oh well. She looked around, searching for a line of box-sized, footwear drawers before she would step shoeless onto a woven, straw, tatami mat. None in sight.

Oh.

She got it. This was a modern-style izikaya. Wearing shoes indoors was permissible. He was admiring her body and heels, was all.

He returned her gaze as she looked up at him, a slight smile tweaking her lips. They shared a moment of bedroom conversation before the waitress hurriedly appeared, taking over.

She was into him.

With his eyes solely fixed on Seta, he gave her a slow smile. She took one last look at him, her eyes playful, as she followed the hostess towards the direction of her party group. He would be a fun distraction on a night with no other plans but the thrill of the chase didn't have the same draw as it had in her twenties. It was all too easy and her time far more precious.

Mr. Moriyama spotted her first, a broad smile spreading across his face at her impromptu arrival. In truth, he knew it was 50-50 whether she'd be a no-show. He was seated around a long, wooden table with another thirty or so invitees. Some she recognised. Others, not.

"Seta-san, you made it! Come and sit here, please." He ushered her to an empty chair diagonally across the table from him.

She gave a wide smile in greeting. The seats next to him were occupied. Of course. He was an excellent conversationalist and even better flirt.

"Moriyama-san, I turned up especially thinking I'd be your guest of honour!" she announced over the din of the music in the background. Her words both playful and bold.

He chuckled at her routine line. It never got old. She'd gently chastise him for dragging her to tiresome work parties and he'd eventually rearrange the seating to accommodate her by his side. Not that it took him much convincing. She was his favourite, foreign, female employee. All one of her. She grinned inside. It was a win-win for them both.

The eyes of the mixed group of men and women followed her as they sized her up. Who was the girl speaking to the boss in an over-friendly manner? She scanned the table in a compass-like perfect arc and nodded at the guests before sitting down and greeting the familiar gentleman on her right. On her left, a younger man, introduced as the rookie in the Client's company. Seta appraised him. Grimaced inwardly. His cheeks were flushed pink, eyes bloodshot. Poor guy looked like he had been drinking straight shots of whisky every single weekday with the older managers.

It shouldn't have been any surprise. She'd seen it all too many times before. New employees relentlessly put through their paces, receiving the dreary work the middle-managers passed up. To add insult to injury, forced to attend late night events with a bunch of older workaholics. As if a single guy in his twenties didn't have anything better to do with his time. She shook her head in sympathy. It would be a few years before he could even attempt to turn down frequent soirées with colleagues and clients which could see him out till past the last midnight train.

Seta imagined, for the umpteenth time, that young male workers did the deed and tied the knot early just to have an excuse not to socialise with their bosses on a nightly basis. In any other country people would change jobs to escape the clutches of tough bosses. Here they said, 'I do'.

She gave the young man a kind smile. "Hi, I'm Seta, pleased to meet you."

"Hello Seta-san, I'm Takeshi, nice to meet you," he said slowly.

"Would you like a strong drink?" she asked, her smile devious.

"No, please no! I think I'm a little drunk!" he spluttered, looking at her, anxious and in a daze.

"Maybe a little," she replied, the faint hint of mischief parked firmly on her lips.

It's okay buddy, I'll take care of you tonight.

If it occasionally slipped her mind to pour his liquor she was sure young Takeshi would be more than relieved. Come to think of it, he looked slightly green around the gills. Her thoughts were broken by a stare drilling into her. The intensity forced her to glance up and settle her bright eyes on a strikingly handsome man. He was in his mid forties, or thereabouts, she guessed. His gaze burned into her. Piercing enough to make her shift in her seat, forcing her to break the connection first.

In that brief moment she had sized him up to be a good looking, definitely married, upper-echelon man. Even with no ring on his finger. On looks alone, fully aware of his power. The probability near high he was sleeping with most of the younger females in his office. She didn't like being so presumptuous. At the same time sensing there was something different about him.

When she thought he was not paying attention, her eyes fluttered back in his direction.

By any standards he was undeniably gorgeous. Tall, slim, clean-cut. Dressed to an Omotesando slash Aoyama sophisticate with arresting black eyes ringed by a hint of midnight blue. On one side, he was flanked by a bland, forgettable salary man. On his right, a young, pulled together woman who snatched Seta's gaze. Her pupils dripped with disapproving icicles at the moment Seta had shared with him.

The man's eyes roamed back to Seta. She averted her stare immediately, just in time, sensing both his and the girl's scrutiny. She held her breath as her pulse beat faster. Excited and unsettled in one go. She was unfazed by male attention, usually. What was happening here?

She focused her attention on the remaining guests. Making her introductions she engaged in routine pleasantries, her mind half present. She could hear the girl fawn over hot man. Giggles a little too loud, cooing noises at all the appropriate moments. She rolled her eyes internally at the girl's basic games. Steering his attention away from Seta.

"Takeshi-san, would you give me a brief bio on everyone around the table, please?" she asked, nonchalantly.

"Will this party end soon?" he asked, like a lost little boy, desperately seeking an escape.

Seta brought her gaze back onto him. Poor chap was inebriated, over the edge into no-man's land. "Maybe after you tell me about the guests, you'll wake up, and find this was all a dream..." she encouraged, humour laced in her tone.

"I think I've had a nightmare every day this week," he said quietly, trying to focus on Seta.

She chuckled unexpectedly. So he had been out every night of the week. Unlucky. At least he'd kept his humour in tact.

"You know Mr. Moriyama, right?" he continued, pleased he had made her inadvertently laugh.

"Yes," she announced simply, hoping to hurry him on to more important matters.

"Sitting next to him is..."

Seta nodded her interest throughout Takeshi's monologue as he dutifully described the key people around the table.

Finally, her ears pricked up.

"But you're probably interested in that guy over there. Everyone is. That's Matsunaga-san, he has a big stake in our company, lots of companies, in fact. I'm not sure why he's here tonight, he's an important man, we hardly ever see him, there must be a reason he's here." He turned to squint at her, focusing his bleary eyes. "And next to him is..."

Seta listened quietly. For a drunk guy, he had his wits about him. How had he figured out Seta's interest? Was it that everyone was curious about the man in question and it was an educated guess? Perhaps he was pretending to be more drunk than he actually was to manage the drinks coming his way? Clever boy, she thought.

So, Mr Hot stuff was an entrepreneur. Definitely not new money, she speculated. He had the grace and entrenched confidence of Japanese aristocracy. It was the way he held her stare, completely in command of himself and the room. In the cut of his two-months'-booked-in-advance Aoyama salon haircut, the smooth texture of his well-nourished skin, the ease of his straight posture. A custom designed Masahiro Kikuno watch with a silver circular face held together by a tan leather strap completed his look.

Yes, this man had been bred for the high life. Why was he here? Surely he had more pressing matters to attend to on a Friday night? She thought about the DJ set she was missing, her escape not as vital as it had felt thirty minutes earlier.

She got up and excused herself. His eye-line following her as she left the table. A few minutes composure was all she needed. Her brain scrambled to connect the dots. As she walked out, the waiter glanced her way. She returned his stare in recognition but the moment had passed. Seta's thoughts were on the man with eyes that had undressed her soul.

In the restroom a couple of twenty-something girls were laughing tipsily as they preened in front of the mirror. Their brassy, dyed bronze hair glared offensively bright under the soft lights. They were not part of Seta's group.

"Kawaii," cute, one said to Seta.

Seta smiled politely in response. The girl peered at her breasts then spoke in Japanese to her friend. Not knowing that Seta could translate oppai. And so much more. She kept up the pretence, putting up with the rest of the conversation behind the bathroom stall.

"Did you see the size of her boobs?" the girl groaned to her friend, not letting up.

Seta waited. Geez, this was awkward. The one place she had escaped to, to gather her thoughts. The sound of makeup bags resigned her to being stuck behind the cubicle for the long haul, missing the DJ set entirely. She shook her head in frustration. No. Tonight was her treat after a relentless week of meetings upon meetings. Choice made, she opened the wooden door, heading for the wash basin furthest away from the duo. The boobs-obsessed girl focused her attention on Seta once again.

"Nice, big oppai." She pointed at the same time.

Seta guessed she didn't know the word for breasts in English. She also looked to be very drunk. Conversations like this did not occur in sober Tokyo.

"Silicon." Seta pretended, racking her brain for the Japanese word and coming up blank. "Nise no oppai," fake boobs, she shrugged for good effect in case the girl had not understood.

They were bigger than her usual normal, one period size larger to be exact. In the West they wouldn't be considered a thing. By Japanese standards, however, they were outrageous. The combination of her slight frame and jutting out breasts, erotic heaven for the natives. The manga syndrome, she called it.

The girl looked back, surprised. Seta wasn't sure whether it was because of her 'frank' admission or that the girl had never met anyone with 'fake' boobs before. She stifled a giggle and smiled sweetly on her way out. Maybe letting her cop a feel would have been the icing on the cake. She smiled at the image.

Walking slowly to her party group she pulled her shoulders back to accentuate her very natural oppai to full effect, wishing she'd checked her appearance in the mirror. Strange, it wasn't something she usually did.

As she reached the sounds of the rowdy party in full swing, she abruptly stopped in her tracks. Green gilled young man was nowhere in sight.

The entire seating arrangement had conveniently changed.

In Takeshi's seat was him. His back to her, she admired the cut of his bespoke Sartoria Ciccio tailored suit designed specially to hug his athletic frame. Glancing around, desperate to find another unoccupied seat, she caught Mr. Moriyama's laughing eyes. She gave him a look only he could interpret: very naughty Mr. Moriyama. He smiled at her as if tipping an invisible hat, ready to watch the cinematic moment unfold.

The man turned and stood up. Looking directly at her, he opened the empty seat to his right. Had he heard her heels or was it the cool stare of fluff girl that had given away her presence? She nodded courteously, locking eyes with him. He waited until she was seated before taking prime position next to her. No escape. He put out his hand and Seta accepted, trying to steady her galloping heart.

"I thought you'd left." He spoke to her in clear, almost accent-less English.

Fluff girl's entire focus was on the pair. Seta hoped she didn't understand a word of English. For a brief second she considered putting on an obscure accent. Not coming up with anything plausible, she took a deep breath and fully turned to him.

"Ah, not just yet, I have a quota to fill to please Mr. Moriyama." She looked at a non-existent watch on her wrist. "Only thirty minutes to go."

"Does he know?" His eyes twinkled at her playfulness.

"He will soon." She smiled, her teeth grazing her bottom lip into a fuller pout. "Your cologne, does it have a name?" she continued.

"It's Chemistry."

"The cologne or the reason you're sitting here next to me?" she said, taken aback at the forwardness of her own cheesy line.

He smiled back. "Both. I'm Koji, by the way."

"I'm Seta," she said. She had not expected that comeback. The intensity between them was palpable. Her heart was racing at the higher 185 revolutions per minute of a Drum'n'Bass track.

"I know." He looked at her, his eyes unwavering.

She cocked her head at him. "What else do you know?"

"That instead of alcohol you're pouring water for Takeshi-san. That the waiter likes you. And that Moriyama-san is very interested in our conversation."

"Only Moriyama-san?" she asked, glancing across the table. There was one other person, at least, taking a keen interest in their exchange. She changed the subject effortlessly, impressed by his observations. "How long have you known Mr. M?"

"A while. I don't usually have time for events like this," he added as if understanding her need for clarification.

"I wondered why we hadn't met before. What brought you here tonight?"

"The recommendation of an interesting guest being present."

"What a coincidence." She glanced from him to Mr. Moriyama, and back, wondering what was going on.

"Koji-san!"

Seta prickled as the girl's voice shattered the peace. By stealth she had made her way to their side of the table and was tugging on Koji's sleeve with puppy dog eyes. A calculated ambush if Seta had ever seen one.

Before Koji could be dragged away, leaving Seta hanging high and dry, she politely excused herself making her way back to the sanctuary of Moriyama-san. She concentrated on her elevated heart rate and casually glanced away as Koji's attention turned to Miss. Fluff. A trickle of sweat glided down her lazered, 1000-yen-a-shot, armpits. She had a feeling she'd be playing musical chairs all night.

Had Koji sensed the tingles running up and down her spine? And the way her breath had caught even though she'd tried to play it cool? He was even more beautiful than she'd initially thought. With his stylish hair cut in an atypical salary man way, he was more akin to a creative. Someone in the design or film industry. Maybe an actor or singer. She remained silent for a long while. Waiting.

"Your impression of Koji-san?" Mr. Moriyama finally asked, smiling at her in an all-knowing way.

"He's one of the junior staff, isn't he? Why is he here tonight?" she replied in a dead-pan voice, the glint in her eyes giving her away.

"Junior staff? Ahahhhahah! I wonder what Koji would think of that description. I'll have to inform him, later." His head bobbed as he chuckled.

"Why is he here tonight?" she raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips mischievously.

"Maybe I mentioned you a few times too many. My very big mistake."

Seta smiled generously at his delicious flirtations. He was undeniably a charmer. He would have had women lined up, eating out of the palms of his hands when he was younger. Still, now.

Eventually, she decided to make herself scarce under the guise of another important event. The group was becoming increasingly boisterous. Ties off. Faces red. The girls flirting outrageously with the eager men. It was the ideal moment to leave without any eyebrows raised. And a stealth exit to escape the intense pull of the man sitting across the table from her.

She looked at her phone. The DJ's set would be almost over. Through his protests, she quietly said her goodbyes to Moriyama-san and, without a further glance in Koji's direction, discreetly left the table. On her way out, she asked the waitress to order her a taxi. She gave a silent thought to young Takeshi. Hopefully he'd make it through the night without her by his side.

To while away the time, she used the bathroom a second time. She felt restless. Her insides on edge. She would have liked to have talked longer with Koji were it not for the unwelcome attention it had garnered. His obvious bee-line for her had amplified that. Tongues would be wagging Monday morning. She shook her head. She had no interest in getting involved with a guy who was banging his secretary and, most likely, married, too.

She took in a few deep breaths. Trying to ease her heart rate. Touched her chest. Racing. She closed her eyes to refocus. It was time to have fun with her music after a long week of meetings on loop.

Breathing deeply, three seconds in, five seconds out, she made her way to the exit. Ready for the onslaught of sweltering heat. The waiter was out of sight. She exhaled relief. The sound overtaken by her heels click-clacking on the concrete floor. Her eyes lifted up from a final glance down at her outfit. Stepping out the building, she stopped in her tracks for the second time on this unexpected night. The suffocating heat momentarily forgotten as she locked eyes with the man she'd escaped minutes prior. Despite her mounting excitement, she peered at him languidly, head cocked to the side.

"You're leaving so soon," he said, one hand casually placed in his trouser suit pocket.

She nodded. The air still except for the crackling sound of heat.

"May I invite you to dine with me this evening," he continued.

"I thought we just had dinner?" she replied, referring to the myriad dishes that had been on rotation at their table. "Unfortunately, I have plans tonight," she added.

"What might those plans be?" he asked, persevering.

"A club."

"Moriyama-san mentioned another important event," he replied, his stare intense.

Seta's smile tweaked at the corners. He certainly did his homework. "It is an important event, I just thought it more polite not to reveal it was a dancing one."

Koji laughed out loud encouraging a chuckle to escape her, too. He had a nice laugh, genuine and deep.

"Which club are you visiting?"

"Harlem."

"Like Harlem in New York? I'll keep your little secret if I can join you," he replied, not missing a beat.

"What about your girlfriend?"

"Girlfriend?"

"The girl sitting next to you."

"Risa? She's one of the office ladies."

"Are you sleeping with her?" She cut to the chase.

"Seta-san is direct." He locked eyes with her squarely, revealing not anything.

She did not drop his gaze. She waited.

"I am not," he answered, filling the silence between them.

"Have you slept with her?"

"In the past."

The past? Like, a few hours ago? Yesterday? Last week? How past?

"I don't think she thinks the same," she said, her voice steady.

She sensed movement behind them. An Alaskan shiver ran down her spine. The stifling heat almost a figment of her imagination. She turned to locate the stare. Of course. Koji's chaperone. Risa's plastered smile masked the displeasure behind her eyes. She called out to Koji in her xylitol sweet voice, needling him to come back and join the party. Seta did not wait around to hear further. She looked at Koji.

The past?

Unfinished business existed with little miss ice queen. She gracefully manoeuvred round him and, without a backwards glance, slid into the taxi, leaving the heat, and the man who had made her heart race, behind.

#tokyo romance #wattpad story #wattpad author #japanese boy #tokyo love #ceo romance #ceo aesthetic #Youtube #aaryan shah #renegade #slowed and reverb

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