COMPLETED 18+‼️Imagines of Y/n & Pedro Pascal character or Pedro himself.
Do not read unless you are 18+.
Most of them are my favs from Tumblr.
Mature content are in this book.
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Summary: You are Dave York's secretary when he first joins the agency and God you hate him almost as much as you want him. He's a hard man and ruthless killer and he doesn't do emotions. Taking you on an op that goes south, something breaks and everything changes.
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You hate your boss just as much as you want to fuck him, and God did you want to fuck him. He was rude, harsh and often snapped at you like you were one of the men under his command when he was doing God knows what, God knows where in the military. Now in the private sector with the freedom to choose what he wanted to do, i.e. kill, and a chip on his shoulder the size of Alaska. Too bad you often thought about how good he would fuck you, how hard and deep he would go, how sore you would been when he got done with you. "Hey! Are you fucking listening?" You looked up at the scowling face of Dave York, his eyes hard and annoyed. Yeah, it was fucking horrible to be so turned on by such an asshole.
You swallow harshly, squeezing your thighs together to quell your naughty thoughts as you look at your boss, giving him your attention. "Ye-yes sir. Sorry I was, um, I was listening" You promise and he snorts, "what was I just saying then?" He challenges and you bite your lip, panic in your eyes but you try to act cool. "Um, something about- about the new job?" You hazard a guess and judging by his narrowed eyes, you were wrong.
It was a good thing he liked your tits because you were pissing him the fuck off. Dave's nostrils flared, annoyed to have to repeat himself. "I said that the financial report from the last op never got sent to my email." He repeatedly slowly, grinding out the words from between his teeth. Why the agency thought he needed a secretary was beyond him. His team could handle their own shit, just like they had when they had the flag on their shoulder. Only difference now was the pay was better. When you jumped guiltily and looked at your computer horrified, he let himself look down the front of your shirt, imagining the swell of your breasts covered with his bite marks.
"I'm sorry sir. I- I did send it to the-" You say while trying to find the email on your computer in the sent file. "Oh" You murmur lamely, a shiver running down your spine and you wonder what his reaction will be with your next words. "I, um, I didn't hit send. It was in my drafts. I'm sorry Mr. York, It's just- you asked me for a coffee and I was going to send it but-" You cut yourself off and gather the nerve to look at your boss. "I'm sorry" You whisper, unable to deny the slight tinge of fear when those dark eyes fix on you.
Dave scoffs, shaking his head and glares at you, his blood racing when he sees the fear in your eyes. He wonders if you are the scared little mouse you appear to be in bed. Too timid to be any fun, maybe the first fuck. But after that he would lose interest. You would probably flee in terror at some of the things he had imagined doing to you. His cock twitches in his pants at the thought of one of them. Bending you over your desk and shoving his fingers into what he was sure was a tight little ass, only enough to start to make you squirm, before replacing them with his cock and making you scream. "Stop fucking up and maybe you can keep your job." He hisses, turning on his heel and walking away.
