#inappropriate work attire...

[gayrobos]

red was right creamy orange bd is good

[skyahri]

One Bed |Naruto Men X Reader| HC

Characters: Sasuke Uchiha, Kakashi Hatake, and Shikamaru Nara.

Summary: Classic one bed trope.

Warnings: Kissing. Bed sharing. Lead up to smut but no smut.

- - - - -

Sasuke Uchiha

It was shortly after the war.

The village was still recuperating from the loss, as was every other village, but there were still missions that needed to be fulfilled.

You were off to do some security work for the Daimyo, who had specifically requested the two of you to watch over his land while they rebuilt.

The only issue was that upon arrival, it wss revealed you'd be sharing a single room.

"You aren't the only ones to have suffered during the battle. Half of my property was destroyed!"

There wasn't much you could do, so you bit the bullet and followed one of the Ladies in Waiting to where you'll be staying.

One room? Whatever. One bed? Absolutely not.

You protested. It was inappropriate, even if you had known Sasuke for well over a decade at this point.

"We are low on resources at the moment, Y/L/N-san, Uchiha-san. It's why we have asked for your assistance in the first place."

You looked at Sasuke, who just gave you the same bored expression he always has.

You thanked the woman and began getting settled in your room. Sasuke offered to sleep on the floor, which you told him not to bother with.

You'd likely be here a few weeks, so it'd be best if you were both comfortable.

Sasuke was nice enough to let you shower first, which you'd gladly taken after two days' worth of travel.

He waited patiently for you to finish so he could prepare for bed as well. It was late, almost midnight, and he was tired.

It was awkward the first night. You'd slept uncomfortably back to back with this weird air around you.

You'd put on your most conservative pair of pajamas despite how warm the room was, and that only made things worse.

The second night wasn't much better.

But by the third night, you both grew tired of the tension. It was difficult to be fully rested when you'd slept terribly, so you formed some kind of unspoken, mutual respect for now.

You'd opted for your normal nighttime attire - a pair of shorts and thin t-shirt. You already felt better.

Sasuke, on the other hand, had been grateful for your prudish clothing. He had never said anything before, not that he had the time to, but he'd always been attracted to you.

Your revealing pajamas were not helping his comfort, so while you slept better that night, he did not.

Nor the next night.

Or the night after that.

By then, you'd become very aware of his antics. On top of being physically aware that he wasn't sleeping, you'd also become annoyed by his poor attitude.

He was already an ass as is, you really didn't need him sleep deprived on top of it.

So that night, as you lay in bed next to him, you roll onto your stomach and prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

"What's your problem?"

"I don't have a problem."

"Really? Could've fooled me."

He tsked at you. Why'd you have to be so annoying?

You pushed yourself up so you'd be sitting on your knees, your hands flat on the bed so you could still lean forward to talk to him.

His eyes darted down to your chest before looking away entirely.

No way. There was absolutely no way.

"Are you... bothered by my clothes?"

"Don't be stupid." He snapped.

You tried to suppress a knowing smirk but failed.

So you leaned forward and kissed him.

Despite his surprise, he immediately responded to your kiss, going so far as to roll you over onto your back so he'd be on top of you.

"Maybe I am a bit bothered."

Kakashi Hatake

This is Kakashi’s first Kage Summit, and he asked you to be his plus one.

You accepted with no hesitation. You were anxious to get out of the village since the war ended and going out with Kakashi was sure to make it all the more interesting.

The summit was boring. That's a good thing compared to the last summit, but it still made you want to gouge your eyes out. They discussed the status of their villages and what sort of issues they'd been running into, blah blah blah.

When it was nearing midnight and everyone was growing tired, they agreed to call it a night and resume in the morning.

Everyone went to their respective quarters, but when you got to the Leaf Village's wing, there was only a single room with a bed.

Apparently, during the rebuild, they'd slipped up and only added a single room instead of the usual two, and no one had noticed (Thanks Sasuke).

It wasn't too big of a deal. You'd known Kakashi since your Genin days and slept in the same room plenty of times.

You were a bit surprised when he actually got into bed with you though.

Despite all those sleepovers, this was the first time you'd actually slept so close together.

You stared at him. Not on purpose, just happened to be doing so while your mind was racing.

"Is this an issue? I can sleep on the floor."

You shook your head.

"You sure? You were giving me quite the look."

"I was just... wondering what you'd look like under the mask."

You lied. You couldn't tell him how you were thinking about sleeping in bed with him and it's implications.

He snorted and did something that completely caught you off guard.

He pulled down his mask.

You blushed. How could you not? All these years, and he chooses now, the most random moment, to finally reveal such a wel kept secret.

And then he does something else that yo weren't expecting.

He leans forward and kisses you. You kiss back. He pulls away after a minute.

"I've been waiting to do that since we were teenagers."

You laugh at him, then pull him in for another kiss.

Shikamaru Nara

Shikamaru, being the lazy man he is, put off booking a room to stay in for so long that there was only a single room left st the inn.

You'd scolded him, and he took it, knowing he should've done it when he'd gotten the mission report.

The room was on the smaller side and contained only a single bed and dresser.

Neither of you were interested in sleeping on the floor for the next week, so you agreed to share the bed.

Something you wouldn't have done if you'd known Shikamaru was such a... uncharacteristically chaotic sleeper.

Seriously, he moved around more at night than he did during the entire day. Maybe it's all the pent up energy.

Within an hour of him knocking out, he was already sprawled out across most of the bed, leaving you two options: sleep on the edge or lay on him.

You tried to sleep in the bit of space he hadn't taken, really, but it seemed he was basically drawn to you.

You caved, allowing whatever was going to happen to happen, too tired to fight it any longer.

When Shikamaru eventually woke up, you were on his chest, one arm thrown over him and peacefully sleeping.

He got flustered and quickly tried to get out from under you, waking you in the process.

He was able to dart away without much suspension. Or at least he thought.

The next night was the same, minus the internal battle you'd had prior.

When Shikamaru woke up to the same dilemma, he decided it was best to fall asleep after you.

That night, he'd stayed awake under the guise of a mission report update for the Hokage.

You'd simply shrugged and gone to bed.

He followed when he was sure you were asleep, making sure each of you were on your respective sides of the bed.

He was surprised when he woke up with him on top you, head on your chest as if it was the most casual thing to happen.

He'd begin to stammer about, but stopped when you'd groaned.

"Settle down, would you?"

"I was just-"

"It's not that big of a deal, Shika, just go to sleep."

He listened to you, despite not understanding what was actually going on.

In the morning, he attempted to talk to you about it, but the conversation didn't quite go as planned.

"Yeah, you're a cuddler. Not much I can do about it, so it's whatever."

From then on, it slowly became more natural for your nights to get more personal, even once you'd gotten home.

[noyasmashing]

Daichi getting dommed by his girlfriend?! Since he's in the police maybe his girlfriend is a detective or some form of government official that works with the police all the tine!!!

★ BAD BOY. daichi!

౨ৎ :: masterlist. reblogs are appreciated.

• warning: daichi + fem!dom reader, male penetration/fingering, mommy kink, cum eating, daichi has the “asian flush”

Daichi really wasn’t the one to drink. Actually, he shouldn’t be drinking. He lacked the enzyme that broke down alcohol once consumed. He wasn't suited for it, plain and simple. However, there were exceptions to his rule.

More often than not, he found himself holding a drink at parties, and tonight was no different. After months of tireless investigation, the combined efforts of the police officers and detectives had finally paid off, solving a particularly complex case. As a well-deserved reward, the team decided to treat themselves to a celebratory night out. They reserved a cozy private room at a highly-regarded restaurant, famous for its exceptional craft cocktails.

Their boss, in a thoughtful gesture, had arranged for everyone's drinks to be pre-ordered and paid for, ensuring that the team could relax and enjoy each other's company without worrying about the bill.

Daichi's concern about his metabolic issue flared up as he was handed a cold drink. However he disregarded it. After all, it was only natural that he felt compelled to partake, he didn’t want to seem stuck up, or rude. He started out with small sips, attempting to feign enjoyment.

No one had even noticed, he had gone almost the entirety of the party without even finishing half. Fortunately, everyones attention was diverted by a heartfelt speech from their respected superior officer, acknowledging the team's hard work and dedication.

As the party continued, Daichi's attention was divided between the celebratory speech and your persistent touch. Initially, the gentle rubbing of his thigh was a reflexive response to his coworkers' congratulations. But as the atmosphere mellowed, your hand remained, sending sparks of sensation through his body. The fleeting touches near his upper thigh were maddening, making him feel like he was losing control.

You couldn't help but notice his gaze lingering on you throughout the night, his eyes drawn to the subtle details of your attire - the short skirt, the blouse that teased just enough to hint at what lay beneath. It was clear you were deliberately drawing attention to yourself, and Daichi couldn't help but be captivated by your presence.

“Shall we take care of your issue in the bathroom?” you whispered in Daichi's ear, your voice dripping with teasing intent.

As he tried to maintain a stoic expression, you couldn't help but giggle at his failed attempt to hide his emotions. His temples flexed in frustration as he remained silent, his grip on your hand tightening under the table.

“You know we can’t do that.” He reasoned, tuning to meet your gaze, just for a moment.

You purred out, “Suit yourself,” in response, your eyes never leaving his face. Before smoothly turning to another detective and launching into a conversation about a different case you were working on together.

Daichi turned to look at his own friends, but struggled to process any of their words, his mind consumed by a maelstrom of inappropriate thoughts. In a desperate attempt to shake off the tormenting sensations and clear his mind, Daichi turned his attention to his drink, downing the remaining contents of his glass with a swift motion. The sudden rush of liquid warmth doing little to calm his racing thoughts.

As he struggled to clear the unpleasant aftertaste of his previous drink, Daichi's eyes fluttered open to find the group surrounding him, refilling their glasses.

Before he could process the situation, the room erupted into a chorus of cheers and toasts, and someone was pressing another glass into his hand. With a sense of obligation, Daichi reluctantly accepted the offering, not wanting to be rude or spoil the celebratory atmosphere. As he added the new drink to his already-lively mix, Daichi couldn't help but lament the fact that he had now consumed two cocktails.

As the surprise toast came to a close, the room began to empty out, with many people saying their goodbyes and departing the restaurant. Daichi noticed your growing impatience, and he felt his own unease mounting. He tried to sound nonchalant as he suggested, "Uh, m-maybe we should get going?" His words were laced with a subtle sense of desperation.

Your hand had been resting on his knee for a moment, but then it drifted away, your gaze flicking to your watch as if checking the time.

You nodded curtly, responding with a, "About time," and turning your attention back to him. "Do you have the keys?" you asked, your tone tinged with a hint of concern as you took in his flushed appearance. Without argument, Daichi handed over the keys, preparing to bid farewell to his coworkers and make a hasty exit.

As you both rose from your seats, Daichi's hand instinctively reached out and grasped the back of your jacket, his fingers digging in slightly as he struggled to steady himself. The sudden movement left him feeling lightheaded, and his face flushed with embarrassment as he realized his mistake. You, however, merely raised an eyebrow and tried to stifle a chuckle, indulging in a discreet caress of his backside as you did so.

You were well aware that Daichi was one of those people who didn't handle his liquor well, and the signs were all too clear. "It was nice seeing you, Chief," you said with a charming smile, shaking his hand firmly as you bid him farewell. Daichi nodded mutely, his eyes fixed on yours with a mixture of fear and distraction as your wandering hand continued its gentle exploration of his body. He was too intimidated to say anything, too preoccupied with the sensation of your touch to speak up.

Once you two were out of the restaurant the cool night air hit Daichi like a train. His breathing came in short, ragged gasps, and he stumbled slightly as he walked to the car. “Why did I park so far away.” He groaned, facepalming when he remembered his decision from earlier that day.

“What’s up with you?” you asked, your voice low and concerned as you raised an eyebrow in inquiry. The crunch of gravel beneath your feet was the only sound breaking the silence as Daichi hesitated.

“Wh-what do you mean?” Daichi stammered, finally turning to face you with a flush rising up his cheeks.

You shot him a concerned glance. "Did you drink too much or something, Sawa? You're breathing heavier than normal," you remarked, wrapping your arm around his waist to steady him as you walked towards the car in the dimly lit parking lot.

"I'm sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible. "I felt rude not drinking, and then...of course, there was you..." He trailed off, his words hanging in the air as you approached the car, the silence between you thickening like fog.

But before he could break free and make his way to the passenger seat, you pinned him against the sleek, freshly washed car you had purchased together. The new sedan's gleaming surface reflected the dim parking lot lights, creating a sense of intimacy as you leaned in, your breath warm against his ear.

"What about me?" you whispered, your voice husky with desire. "Don't tell me you were turned on in front of your coworkers." you cooed, your knee gliding up to nestle against his groin, the movement deliberate and sensual.

His breath hitched, and he found himself grasping onto your jacket with an anxious intensity. "So-so what if I was?" he questioned, his voice trembling as he felt his heart pounding in his ears, his body burning with a sudden, intense heat.

His eyes widened as you made the bold move of pulling open the second-row door, revealing the dark interior of the car. "I can't wait till we get home," you whispered, your voice low and seductive, "and I don't think you can either." With that, you guided him into the back seat, the motion smooth and deliberate.

The effects of the alcohol were plain to see on him once you sat down beside him. You could almost hear his racing heart, his face a deep crimson, and the most captivating sight of all was his ragged breathing, as if he'd run a mile.

It was the most intoxicatingly vulnerable you had ever seen him, and by God, it was incredibly attractive. Once you closed the door behind you both, your lips crashed together in a sloppy, frenzied kiss. One that was full of fervor and desperation on his part.

Without hesitation, you started to undo the buttons of his shirt. "I think you're going to need a little discipline for overindulging, don't you?" you whispered into his ear, taking a gentle moment to nip at the lobe.

He let out a soft moan, his head nodding in agreement as you spoke. His apologies tumbled out in a slurred, endearing manner. Daichi was typically contrite and apologetic for his mistakes, so it was unusual for him to receive punishment like this, it made him excited.

"Actually," you said, pulling back to gaze at him with a playful smile. His eyes, still glassy from the drink, met yours, and he stared at you with a dazed expression. "You know what? You're adorable when you're tipsy. Kinda like when I finish fucking your brains out.”

He felt his body flare with heat at your words. The only thing his mushy brain could get out was a “please!” His whole body starting to tremble with anticipation as the desire burned within him. Your words conjured vivid images in his mind, leaving him breathless and unsure of himself. He felt like he was drowning in a sea of emotions, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts: plead, sob, or surrender. Your gentle teasing was torturous, leaving him helpless and at your mercy.

"Please? What do you want, sawamura?" you asked, your tone softening as you reached out to gently push him down onto his forearms.

He looked up at you with half-lidded eyes and wet lips. "F-fuck... fuck me.” he forced out, his breath catching in his throat as your hands ran gently along his chest, tracing the curve of his nipples.

“I don’t have my strap with me, darling.” You sighed, your hands tracing a gentle path along his torso. His abs contracted and relaxed, shifting beneath your touch. As you spoke, he let out a disappointed sob, his head tilting back in surrender.

“Don’t be greedy, my fingers will do just fine.” And with that, he was suddenly being flipped on all fours, his perky ass presented to you, the fabric of his clothes now inches from your face.

“Y-yes.. yes ma’am, sorry ma’am.” He relented, arching his back in attempts to appease you. You released a contented hum, then unfastened his belt and slowly slid down the zipper of his dress pants.

As soon as his undergarments were removed, his throbbing cock sprang free, glistening with precum that dripped down onto his dress shirt, a rather unfortunate turn of events.

Not to mention his hole, which clenched in eager anticipation of whatever you had in store. Your initial move was to spit on it, which was fortunate, as you would have needed lubricant anyway. He let out a soft "Ahh" of pleasure, sinking deeper into position as he did so.

You leaned forward, your body pressed against his, as you guided two fingers into his mouth from behind. "Open," you commanded, and he complied.

He struggled to resist the urge to suck on your fingers as you roughly explored his tongue, making him gag. A muffled string of moans escaped his lips, accompanied by a gasp as you withdrew your fingers.

"I'm supposed to be punishing you," you scoffed, "but you're responding like this is some kind of reward." you added, scoldingly. You then proceeded to line your now-wet fingers with his tight hole.

"Relax," you instructed as your fingers slid into him. Ordinarily, you would have taken your time to ease him into it, inserting just one finger to begin with. But the circumstances didn't allow for that level of finesse. Instead, you established a rough and demanding pace, one that had him groaning and whimpering into his palm.

"Slow down!" he pleaded, his words slurred with a mixture of protest and pleasure. Despite his plea, his hips continued to move in tandem with your pace, practically fucking himself on your fingers.

You couldn't help but laugh at the drunken scene unfolding before you, one hand rising to make a harsh, stinging contact with his exposed ass. His skin was hot to the touch, and his entire body seemed to vibrate with excitement.

His light pants were now a canvas of moans, his cries of pleasure and pain mingling in a chorus of ecstasy. The stifling air in the car grew thick and heavy, the windows fogging up.

"I wonder how the team would react to seeing you like this," you sneered, your voice dripping with disdain. "Knowing that I fucked you in the back of your car, and you took it like a good slut."

You dug your fingers deeper, searching for his most sensitive spot, and he winced in response. "Stoppp," he drunkenly begged, his voice muffled by his hand. You couldn't help but snort in derision at his demand.

"If you want me to stop, then why are you dripping allll over the seat?" You taunted, your gaze flicking down to the damp fabric. "Somebody's going to have to clean this up, you know."

He paused, his mind processing your words as a wave of tension washed over him. Though you couldn't see his physical response, you sensed it with certainty - his cock was twitching at your rather harsh degradation.

"I'm gonna cum, mommy." he whimpered alas, his voice trembling and nasal, in a tone that was foreign to you. He rarely addressed you with such endearments, so you knew that the alcohol must have loosened his inhibitions. "I'm gonna cum b-because your being so mean to me." he stammered, his words punctuated by sniffles.

"Hmmm," you murmured, slowing your movements deliberately. You couldn't help but appreciate the way his ass looked, supple and inviting as it yielded to your fingers. You didn't want this moment to end too soon. "Perhaps I should make you wait until we get home," You suggested, your voice low and sadistic with a hint of amusement.

He let out a despairing "Hmph" and a muffled string of "no"s as he struggled to force your fingers deeper inside him. To his frustration, you took a firm hold of his hips, preventing him from generating any friction through his own movements.

"You tell me, sawa, how bad do you want to come?" you asked in a calm, measured tone, tracing small circles on his hips and barely pumping him with your fingers.

As you gazed at him, you could see his Adam's apple bob up and down, his ear that angled towards you flushed a deep red, while his face remained mostly hidden behind his arm. The tremble in his voice was palpable as he hesitantly spoke up. "I... I want to so badly. I need to. My head feels all fuzzy, I can't take it! Please. P-please. Please, Mommy. Let me have this."

It was an understatement to say you were surprised. You had rarely witnessed Daichi so beset by neediness. Maybe his “Asian flush”, a hallmark of his vulnerability, only added to his desperation. You were certain you wouldn't be treated to this sight again anytime soon, so you intended to savor every moment of it.

"Lay on your back f’me. I wanna see your face." You urged in a gentle tone. He almost let out a sob when you detached from him, but your words steadied him. He shakily flipped onto his back, propping himself up on his forearms to gaze up at you. The agonizing seconds it took to reposition yourself felt like an eternity to him. As you finally resumed the motion, he let out a guttural moan, as if begging you to accelerate the pace. Unbeknownst to him, you added a third finger to the mix. Your gaze was transfixed on his face, drinking in the sight of his features twisted in a mix of pleasure and strain.

His labored breathing morphed into soft moans, his nose wrinkling as a single bead of sweat slid down his forehead, tracing the messy contours of his hair. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and you couldn't help but notice that your gaze was heightening his arousal. "You're so pretty, sawa, go ahead and come for me," you coaxed, abandoning any notion of this being a punishment.

But how could you be cruel to your lover when his throbbing cock quivered against his abs, as if begging for release? It was a pitiful yet endearing sight, one that tugged at your heartstrings. Just as your other hand reached out to claim his cock, he burst forth with a ragged cry, his semen coating his torso and the open expanse of his shirt.

A soft, whispered "Thank you, mommy" escaped his trembling lips, as his eyelids remained tightly closed, his gaze shut off from the world.

It took him a moment to collect himself, his breathing still ragged as you withdrew your hand from his under side. He anticipated a trip to the baby wipes, so his tiny whimper of surprise was all the more adorable when your warm tongue made contact with his skin instead. His eyes flew open, taking in the sight of you lapping up his semen.

His initial reaction was a gasp, which turned into a stunned silence as you pulled him in for a kiss mere seconds later, the taste of his own come mingling with yours on his tongue.

He eagerly swallowed everything you gave him, determined to prove he could handle it, just like he handled three of your fingers.

You pulled back, leaving a trail of saliva connecting the two of you, your mischievous glint hinting at the tease that was to come. "I should make you lick the seat clean," you said, your tone playful and unrepentant. Though he winced at the humiliation of the task, he couldn't deny the desire to submit to your whims.

[min-imum]

ceo mingyu and office siren reader?? 😍😍😍

nsfw, mdni

content warnings: afab!reader, size kink, reader is smaller than mingyu, office sex, semi-public??, fingering, oral sex (m & f receiving), tit fucking!!!!! omg, spit as lube because mingyu never imagined he’d be having sex in his office…, crying from pleasure!!!!, let me know if i missed anything, i realised i didn’t really emphasise the office siren part sorry :(, not proofread forgive me

anon this was honestly such an interesting ask to receive. i took so long to write this because i’ve been thinking about how i want this to go (on top of the crushing guilt i felt for skipping earlier asks but my writers’ block is, unfortunately, selective) but i’m ready now because i saw mingyu in office attire…... he’d make such a hot CEO, blazer always folded neatly over a chair, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, just enough buttons left open to be sexy but not inappropriate, expensive watch wrapped around his right wrist.

mr kim is probably the best boss you’ve ever worked for, too — he’s kind but not too giving, he makes sure everyone does the work they’re supposed to do, he resolves problems amicably as much as possible, and he’s not an ass about taking time off work. he feeds the staff sometimes, ordering surprise catering or bubble tea for everyone. he delegates work fairly and doesn’t dump too much on an unlucky underpaid worker.

additionally, the pay he offers is really good, enough for you to splurge every now and then. it hadn’t been this way at any of your previous jobs, where you slaved away to make ends meet. now, even in your upgraded apartment (with it’s upgraded rent), you’re able to spend money to take care of yourself with new products and spa days and branded bags.

he’s unbelievably charming — strong eyebrows and a pretty smile that works wonders during meetings with clients, a superb memory that ensures he knows his staff’s likes and dislikes, and compassion and empathy that makes him a wonderful superior.

so, naturally, you fall for him.

just a little bit. maybe. he’s nice, and all, but you’re sure you can find someone better somewhere else. besides, that’s your CEO, the one and only kim mingyu. he wouldn’t choose you even if you chose him.

you keep your head down and do your best to be a good employee. you’ve never missed a deadline, and you work doubly as hard to cover your sick days (even if he tells you you really don’t have to, he’s got it covered, seriously), and you try to limit the cost you incur from the company’s unlimited coffee policy. you proofread all your reports three times just to be sure. you’re friendly with all your coworkers. you drink at company parties, just enough to fit in, never so much that you’re anywhere close to being drunk.

you stir your coffee slowly, yawning — you’d slept late last night, so today you allow yourself to have an extra cup or two of coffee. the creamer you added swirls into the coffee and fades.

“didn’t take you for a no sugar type of woman.”

you nearly jump, and turn around to see your boss standing next to you, teasing grin on his face. you hold your hand to your chest. “god, you scared me,” you huff. “sugar makes it too sweet and that makes me sleepy.”

“so you do like sugar, just not during work?” mingyu asks, eyebrow raised. you nod.

Do Not Look Down, you tell yourself. Absolutely Do Not Look Down.

ha. too late. you catch yourself staring at his chest straining against his shirt, biceps filling up his sleeves, and blush bright red immediately.

“s-sorry,” you stammer, picking up your coffee and making your escape. “i have a report to get to. nice chat!”

he snickers as you scuttle off, coffee clutched in your hands.

—

good bosses don’t pick favourites, especially not when all their employees work equally as hard and produce decent results.

mingyu, unfortunately, might not meet that criteria. (fortunately, though, it seems like he’s not the only one that likes you. he sees the eyes following you through the office, and he definitely also sees the guy that intentionally takes the long way around the office to the lift just to pass by your desk.)

you’re a wonderful employee that also happens to be absolutely gorgeous. you submit your work on time, you’re civil with all your fellow coworkers, you do your job well, your hair is always tied up neatly, your shirt is always tucked properly into your pencil skirt, your skirt makes your ass look good—

he runs a hand over his face, huffing at himself. you’re his employee who has shown him nothing but respect. he shouldn’t be thinking about you like this.

but god, he’d be lying to himself if he said he hasn’t thought about your pretty, glossy lips wrapped around his cock, or about tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging, or about playing with your tits until you’re sensitive and whiny.

“come in,” he calls, when he hears a knock on the door. his composure promptly flies out the window when it’s you that steps in. your skirt makes your legs look like they go on for miles, even though he knows you aren’t all that tall. he towers over you easily. his cock twitches at the thought and he immediately files the thought away for later, shaking his head to clear his mind.

“i just wanted to bring you these documents,” you say, handing him a stack of files. he nods dumbly as he observes the difference in size between his hand and yours. your lips, soft and inviting, curve around the words you’re saying. he might be a little distracted.

“—earth to boss man,” he hears you call. he jolts back, then chuckles sheepishly.

“sorry, i was distracted,” mingyu rubs his neck. “could you repeat that?”

“sure,” you agree easily. you tell him — again — about a new potential company partnership, then about a little feud that seems to be starting between two of your coworkers, and finally you offer to make him coffee.

“you look tired and out of it,” you observe. “maybe coffee will help. i can bring you some.”

he wants to laugh. he’s not tired, no, he’s just horny and his wet dream is standing in front of him.

“coffee sounds nice,” he says instead. “thank you.”

you step back out of his office to make him his coffee, and he slumps back in his chair, groaning. you’re perfect. he might be a good boss, but a large part of it is because he has you — you point out all the little, blossoming problems that may become major issues over time so he can stomp them out before they even start, and you’re more than competent at your job. it helps that you’re easy on the eyes, too, always presentable and pretty and looking like someone he wants to ruin.

—

when you return with your coffee, you expect to hand it over and return to your desk.

what you’re absolutely not expecting, however, is for your boss to ask you to stay.

you stay frozen in place as mingyu stands and rounds the table before finally stopping in front of you.

“i have to admit,” mingyu says, hands clasped behind his back. “you’re… quite captivating. you’re a hard worker, you’re a sociable person, and it’s been wonderful having you here.”

you nod, confused. he steps closer to you, and oh — now you can smell the scent of his cologne, musky and masculine, and now you have to tilt your head up to look at him.

“am i making you uncomfortable?” he asks.

you hesitate. the mature, correct answer would be yes, please step away from me, sir. but is that really the case? his scent permeates the air. his choice of cologne matches him well. subtle but memorable, powerful but not overbearing. you press your thighs together, swallowing.

“no,” you squeak.

“then, may i touch you?”

you nod, but his eyes narrow. “words, darling.”

you shiver. “yes. please.”

“good girl.” satisfied, he rests his hands on your waist, and one hand moves up to stroke your cheek gently. “you’re beautiful, you know? captured my attention since day one. my attention, and everyone else’s. i think half your coworkers might have a crush on you.”

you lean into his touch, eyes fixated on his, not really paying attention to anything he’s saying. you’re certain you’ve had a wet dream just like this before.

“can i kiss you?”

in lieu of an answer, you throw your arms around his neck and pull him in for a passionate kiss. you moan when he squeezes your waist, and he licks into your mouth. his tongue tangles with yours. it’s sloppy and disgusting and wet and you love it.

“mr kim,” you whine. he shushes you.

“just mingyu.”

“mingyu… please touch me.” you guide his hand to your chest, and he gropes your tit through your clothes, groaning.

“shit, it’s even better than i imagined,” he murmurs.

“do you wanna fuck them?”

his eyes go wide and he moans loudly. “fuck, yes.”

the two of you make quick work of your shirt — he nearly sends the buttons of your shirt flying with how frantic he was, and he snaps the clasp of your bra with a flick of his fingers. you tug your shirt out of where it’s tucked into your skirt and pull it off, throwing it onto a nearby chair. your bra follows and he eyes your tits greedily. he unbuttons his own shirt, then his pants too, and pulls his hard cock out of his pants.

the size of his cock makes you salivate, excited to have a taste. and his body… his body is sculpted by the gods, all muscle and defined lines. the thin sheen of sweat makes him glow.

he places a cushion on the floor for you. you kneel on the cushion and press your tits together with your arms.

“fuck, baby, you’re perfect,” he moans. he spits onto his cock a few times and strokes it, then positions himself between your breasts. he clenches his abs desperately to hold his orgasm at bay.

slowly, he starts fucking between your tits, grunts leaving his lips with every thrust. he whimpers when you lean your head down to lick at the tip whenever it pokes up between your tits. you allow your own saliva to dribble onto his cock and your tits to ease the slide.

it doesn’t take long — this is probably the hottest situation he’s ever been in — and soon, he’s coming all over your face and breasts with a groan. “shit,” he curses. “you’re too sexy, baby.”

with a thumb, he swipes up all the cum on your face and feeds it to you, and you accept it with a dazed smirk. mingyu helps you stand again, and starts sucking hickeys onto your breasts, licking up his own release and leaving his marks behind. then, he presses his lips back onto yours, passing the cum in his mouth to you. it’s so hot and dirty that it makes you dizzy.

his hands slide down to your skirt. he grabs two fistfuls of your ass and moans into your mouth.

“mingyu,” you whine. he coos at you. with one swipe of his arm, he clears his table, folders clattering to the floor.

mingyu lifts you onto the table, then tugs at your skirt hurriedly. you try lifting your ass to help him take the skirt off, but he simply shoves your skirt up your thighs and drops to his knees. “fuck,” you moan. “are you gonna—”

he responds by pressing his nose against your core through your panties. his nose bridge bumps your clit, making you whimper, and the deep inhale he takes nearly makes you cum on the spot.

“smells so good, baby,” he praises. “bet you’ll taste even better.”

he peels your soaked panties off your cunt and slides them off your legs. “can i keep these, darling?”

you moan. “yes,” you reply. “anything you want.”

he slides your panties into his pocket, then presses his face directly into your pussy. there’s no preamble before he’s eating you out frantically, licking and sucking and nibbling, and you grab his hair to ground yourself, nearly screaming in pleasure. “yes, yes,” you chant, whining loudly. “fuck, i’m going to cum so fast.”

soon, you’re fucked dumb, his tongue putting you into a daze, and all you can do is babble mindlessly and cry.

with a shout, you cum onto his face, and he licks you through it, nose pressing insistently at your clit. you jerk in sensitivity for a minute before you finally push him off.

mingyu looks absolutely pussy-drunk, eyes glazed over with a dumb smile on his face. “so good,” he murmurs. “can you go again?”

“i would, but i really want your cock inside me now, mingyu.” you pant.

he springs into action. mingyu stands from where he’d been kneeling and shoves his pants down his legs. you watch, dazed, as he steps out of them and steps towards you.

then, he grabs you by the hips and flips you onto your front, making you squeal.

“mingyu?!”

“been wanting to bend you over my desk,” mingyu says gruffly. “fuck you from behind. can i, baby?”

you moan. “please, yes, give it to me—”

you hear him spit again, and then the head of his cock presses against your entrance. he’s so much bigger than you’d anticipated. you scramble to grab the edge of the table as he rocks into you slowly, a long, loud whine forced out of you. his spit may not have been enough lube, but there’s more than enough of your slick to ease the slide.

his cock bullies into you, stretching you out deliciously and almost painfully, and it never seems to end.

“what a pretty pussy,” he murmurs. “taking my cock so well.”

“a-ah, love your cock,” you babble. “‘s so good.”

“god, i’ve barely even started and you’re already fucked dumb.” he growls. “aren’t you just so perfect for me, doll?”

he hisses when your cunt clenches around his cock. “yes!” you cry. “all for you. all yours.”

his hips buck at your words, and the remaining couple of inches are shoved into your cunt, making you cry out in surprise. he rubs your back in apology, and as soon as you give him the go-ahead, he starts fucking you earnestly.

he gropes your tits and your ass and admires the view of you sprawled out across his work desk, naked save the skirt bunched around your waist, face plastered sideways onto the tabletop. he leans forward and fucks you harder, and you scramble desperately, trying to find something to hold onto, fingertips clawing at the table.

“ungh, mingyu,” you moan. “s-so good, so good—”

“yeah? tell me how much you like my cock, baby.”

“so big, so warm,” you cry. “harder, harder!”

he pistons into you and the pleasure overwhelms you. your cunt clenches around his cock as you try to hold back your orgasm.

“fuck, baby,” he swears. “so tight and warm around me. i’m not going to last long.”

you’re sobbing now. “g-gonna cum,” you whimper. “wanna cum.”

he slides a finger over your clit, and that’s all it takes for you to cum with a scream. he fucks you through your orgasm into oversensitivity, and you clench around him sporadically as you twitch, sparks of pleasure shooting up your spine.

“where d’you want it?” he asks, teeth clenched.

“inside, please give it to me inside,” you answer quickly.

with a growl, he starts to cum, shooting hot semen into your pussy. it makes you cum again, arching violently, and he fucks you through both of your orgasms.

finally, he slows, and pulls out gingerly. he flips you onto your back, then watches the cum start dripping out of your pussy with a dopey, satisfied grin.

you pant, chest heaving enticingly, as you recover from your two orgasms in record time. “well shit,” you mutter. “that was probably the best sex i’ve had in my life.”

“guess it needs to happen again, then,” mingyu says, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. you laugh, slapping his arm, and he giggles too, fending off your attacks.

“but for real, though, i do really like you. and. i know we kind of fast-forwarded a little bit, but i’d like if we could try getting to know each other and maybe try dating…?” he asks, suddenly shy.

“i’ll agree to that,” you say, watching him perk up. “on one condition.”

his eyes are bright with puppy-like excitement. “what is it?”

you point down your body at the cum pooling on your pussy and dripping onto the table. “find a way to clean that up.”

with a smirk, he drops to his knees again.

“with pleasure.”

[heartfullofleeches]

You know those posts about people with certain...assests being posted as if they're as inappropriate for their job? Like- a teach who's dressed pretty casually, but they have a larger chest they can't really hide with their clothes. Bodyguard, Warden, and Teacher darling have to deal with that, but it's been a while since we talked about ol' Warden so lets focus on them-

Civilians who have seen the Warden (and totally don't want them fired just so they can claim them later on), express their concerns about how the Warden dresses. I mean sure they're wearing work appropriate attire, but- just look at them- They can't hide all that ass in those pants. Everyone in the prison has to be slipping in the puddles of drool that drips from their mouths when Warden bends over to pick up something they dropped.

-

Yan: You cannot let them go back in there with those people.

"If you would like to make a complaint about the Warden, please-"

Yan: no, no, they're fine, but now - I'm wondering if you are. More specifically your eyes. Have you seen the ass they're carrying around? It is a hazard - a crime for them to have that much ass in a place like this. You need to have them fired right fucking now or else-

[pin-k-ink]

spilled wine // nakahara chuuya

tw ⇢ highly suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, chuuya being down bad, fingering, grinding, unprotected sex

wc ⇢ 2.7k

You sat idly in front of him, your lithe hands housing a glass of wine. You mindlessly twirled the contents around, watching as the red liquid sloshed within the confines of the glass, unaware that Chuuya had been ogling you the entire night. You couldn't exactly blame him, though. Ever since the both of you joined the mafia, Chuuya had always been used to seeing you in hoodies and sweatpants. You were hardly the type to dress up for parties, much less attend them. Even after seven years of working together, it had taken Chuuya considerable effort to drag you out of your office and into this extravagant soirée.

Chuuya's main motivation for insisting on your attendance was simple: he didn't want to be the only one stuck entertaining the drunk old men at the party, who seemed only interested in boasting about their latest torture techniques and the groups they had recently slaughtered. It was tiring, listening to their incessant chatter about violence and cruelty. He knew the only way he'd make it through the night with his sanity intact was if you were by his side. Which is why he had shown up at your room earlier, a stunning dress in hand - because he was absolutely sure you wouldn't be caught dead with a party dress in your closet.

Initially, it had taken some convincing to get you to wear the dress. You were stubborn, resistant to the idea of dressing up for an event you had no interest in attending. But after a few well-placed bribes and a bit of persistent coaxing from Chuuya, you finally folded, agreeing to don the elegant attire he had so carefully selected for you.

Now, as Chuuya's eyes drank in the sight of you, he was starting to regret his decision to buy you that particular dress. It wasn't that you looked bad - quite the contrary, actually. The plain black fabric hugged your curves in all the right places, the deep v-neckline revealing just enough cleavage to make his mouth go dry, while the high slit up the side of the skirt allowed for tantalizing glimpses of your toned legs as you moved. No, the problem wasn't that you looked bad. The problem was that you looked too good.

Chuuya found himself unable to tear his gaze away from you, his eyes tracing the lines of your body, committing every detail to memory. The way the dim lights of the room cast shadows across your face, accentuating your delicate features. The way your hair, normally tied back in a practical ponytail, now cascaded down your back in soft, lustrous waves. The way your lips, painted a deep shade of red to match the wine in your glass, curved into a small, enigmatic smile as you surveyed the room.

Maybe it was the fact that he had always wanted to see you look your best, to witness the transformation from the practical, no-nonsense colleague he had grown so accustomed to working alongside, to this stunning vision before him. Maybe it was because he had desperately wanted to see you in a dress, to have the opportunity to admire the feminine curves that were so often hidden beneath baggy clothing. Or maybe, just maybe, it was secretly because he had wanted to match with you, to present a united front to the rest of the mafia, to show that you were a team, both on and off the job.

But one thing was clear: Chuuya definitely regretted buying you that dress. Because now, all he could think about was peeling it off of you, slowly, savoring every inch of your naked body. He wanted to run his hands along your sides, to feel the warmth of your body beneath his fingertips. He wanted to pull you close, to breathe in the scent of your perfume, to taste the wine on your lips as he claimed them with his own.

Chuuya shook his head, trying to dispel the inappropriate thoughts that had taken root in his mind. You were his colleague, his partner. He couldn't let his attraction to you compromise the professional relationship you had built over the years. But as he watched you take another sip of your wine, your throat bobbing gently as you swallowed, he knew that it was going to be a long, torturous night, one filled with stolen glances and barely restrained desire.

He could only hope that you remained oblivious to the effect you were having on him, that you continued to sit there, idly twirling your wine, blissfully unaware of the hunger in his eyes and the fire in his veins. Because if you ever found out just how badly he wanted you, Chuuya knew that there would be no going back, no pretending that things could ever be the same between you again.

With a sigh, Chuuya tore his gaze away from you, focusing instead on the boring conversations happening around him. He would endure this party, this night, with the same stoic professionalism he brought to every aspect of his life. But deep down, he knew that his feelings for you, the desire that burned within him, would not be so easily ignored. And as the night wore on, he found himself wondering just how long he could keep his true feelings hidden, before the inevitable happened and the carefully constructed walls between you came crumbling down.

As the night wore on, the party grew more boisterous, the laughter and chatter of the inebriated guests filling the air. You and Chuuya exchanged a knowing glance, both feeling the weight of the evening's tedium pressing down upon you. Without a word, you rose from your seat, tilting your head towards the exit in a silent invitation. Chuuya nodded, relief flooding through him as he followed you out of the crowded room and into the cool night air.

You walked in comfortable silence, the sounds of the party fading into the background as you made your way back to your shared apartment. Once inside, you kicked off your heels, sighing in relief as your feet were freed from their confines. Chuuya loosened his tie, unbuttoning the top of his shirt as he watched you move about the room, your dress swishing around your legs with every step.

"I need a drink," you declared, making your way to the kitchen and pulling out a bottle of red wine. Chuuya followed, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard and setting them down on the counter. You poured the rich, crimson liquid into each glass, the aroma of the wine wafting up to fill the air between you.

You picked up your glass, swirling the contents before bringing it to your lips. But as you tilted your head back to take a sip, a small trickle of wine escaped the corner of your mouth, trailing down your chin and along the smooth column of your throat. Chuuya's eyes followed the path of the errant droplet, transfixed by the sight of the dark liquid against your skin.

Without thinking, Chuuya leaned in, his tongue darting out to catch the wayward drop of wine. You gasped at the sudden contact, your eyes widening as Chuuya's mouth brushed against your throat, his tongue lapping at your skin. The sensation sent shivers down your spine, your pulse quickening as Chuuya's lips traveled upwards, tracing the line of your jaw before finally capturing your mouth in a searing kiss.

The taste of the wine mingled with the unique flavor of you, and Chuuya found himself intoxicated by the heady combination. His hands came up to cup your face, his fingers tangling in your hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue delving into the warm cavern of your mouth. You responded in kind, your own hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer as you lost yourself in the sensations he was evoking.

Time seemed to stand still as you kissed, the world around you fading away until there was nothing but the feel of his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against your own. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily, your chests heaving as you fought to catch your breath.

Chuuya rested his forehead against yours, his eyes searching your face for any sign of regret or uncertainty. But all he saw was a mirror of his own desire, a hunger that matched the fire burning within him. Slowly, a smile spread across your face, your eyes sparkling with mischief and promise.

"Well," you murmured, your voice low and husky, "that was unexpected."

Chuuya chuckled, his thumb brushing along your bottom lip. "But not unwelcome, I hope?"

You shook your head, your smile widening. "Definitely not unwelcome."

And with that, you pulled him back in for another kiss, the wine forgotten as you lost yourselves in each other, eagerly stripping down to your skin as you both stumble onto the couch.

As you stumble back onto the couch, Chuuya reaches for the bottle of wine once more. He pulls back just enough to tilt your head gently, exposing the smooth expanse of your throat. With a mischievous glint in his eye, he tips the bottle, allowing a thin stream of the dark liquid to trickle onto your skin, tracing a path down the elegant column of your neck. The alcohol drips further still, pooling on the swell of your breasts before continuing to fall into your lap.

You squirm at the sensation, a shiver running through your body.

Chuuya sets the bottle aside, and leans forward, licking a broad stripe up the side of your neck. A quiet moan falls from your lips as his mouth latches onto your heated skin, sucking softly, the sting of teeth following close behind. He follows the trail of spilled wine with his tongue, humming in appreciation as you squirm and whimper beneath his attentions.

Reaching the edge of your breasts, he pauses, and looks up at you through long, thick lashes, a devious smirk gracing his features. Without warning, he tugs your dress down and dips his head, his lips latching firmly around your nipple, sucking harshly. You gasp and arch up, your hand flying to his hair, tangling in the silky strands, tugging lightly. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, and he pulls back, blowing a soft puff of air across it. You shudder at the sensation, the cool air against the wet skin making you even more sensitive.

Chuuya continues, his mouth moving to the other side, and the heat that has been building in your core threatens to boil over.

"Chuuya, please..." you whisper breathlessly, tugging his hair, pulling him up towards you. He obliges, moving upwards to capture your lips once more, his tongue delving deep, exploring the cavern of your mouth. He shifts, his knee parting your legs, pressing firmly between your thighs.

The delicious friction sends a spark straight to your core, and you cant your hips upwards, searching for more.

His hand slides from your waist to your thigh, fingers trailing lightly along the sensitive flesh.

Your hips buck upwards again, and he grips you, squeezing gently, urging you to keep moving. He breaks the kiss, leaning back slightly. "Go ahead, beautiful, I want to watch you," he murmurs.

You meet his gaze, his eyes dark with lust.

Swallowing hard, you lift your hips again, grinding against his knee. Your hand fists in the fabric of the couch as you set a slow, steady rhythm.

Chuuya hums, pleased, and trails his fingers higher, dancing along the edge of your underwear, teasing you. You gasp, speeding up, feeling the tension coiling low in your stomach, the heat radiating from your core.

His fingers dip inside, sliding along the seam of your panties, and your breath hitches. He strokes you through the thin fabric, applying pressure right where you need it, and you cry out, your head falling back, the coil winding tighter.

"That's it, princess, just like that."

Your hips snap faster, the coil about to burst, and then his hand is gone.

"Ah!" you whine, your movements slowing.

"Don't stop," he growls.

He yanks your underwear to the side, his fingers circling your clit, his other hand grabbing your hip, urging you forward once more. Your legs quiver and shake as he presses against you, the tension in your core so tight it's almost painful.

His fingers slide lower, one digit slipping inside your soaked entrance, curling and rubbing as his thumb continues to flick over your clit. Your hands claw at the couch, your breathing heavy and ragged, the pressure building.

Chuuya slips another finger inside, pressing deeply, stretching you, his pace quickening, the friction so good, you're teetering on the edge, but not quite enough to push you over. Your hips cant forward, desperate, chasing your release, and his thumb rubs in quick, tight circles, the coil winding so tight you're ready to snap.

"Chuuya, please! Ah... Please, I need you!" you beg, your voice broken and ragged.

He removes his hand from your hip, and grabs the hem of your panties, tugging them down, tossing them carelessly behind him. He reaches for the button of his slacks, but you're already moving, scrambling to straddle his lap. Your hand covers his, pushing him back, and you fumble with the zipper, pulling it down. He raises his hips, shoving the fabric down, and his cock springs free.

You take him in hand, giving him a few strokes, and you feel his breath hitch.

"God, you're beautiful," he breathes.

Your eyes lock, and there's a tenderness in his gaze, a moment of sincerity and vulnerability, a stark contrast to the lust and desire from moments before.

Your heart skips a beat, and you lean forward, kissing him softly. He moans, deepening the kiss, his tongue delving deep, and his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer. You line him up, and sink down, slowly, letting him fill you.

A moan escapes your lips, the feeling of him stretching and filling you so good, and you break the kiss, panting. He rests his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you flush against him, holding you tight.

"You're amazing," he whispers, placing a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You giggle softly, and lean in, kissing him deeply.

You start to move, a slow, steady rhythm, and his hand slides down to grip your hips, guiding your movements. He rolls his hips up, matching your pace, his cock hitting so deep, and a soft whimper falls from your lips.

You press your forehead to his shoulder, and pick up the pace, your hands sliding around to grip his shoulders. His hands move to your ass, squeezing and kneading, helping you move, the tension in your core mounting, the coil about to snap.

You roll your hips forward, the delicious friction sending sparks up your spine, the knot in your stomach tightening, and your movements falter.

"Ah! Chuuya... I-I'm so close..." you whimper.

"Yeah, princess? Do you want to cum?"

"Y-yes," you breathe.

"Then, do it, let go for me," he growls.

With a loud moan, your head falls back, your body tensing, every nerve alight with pleasure, as the coll winds so tight it can't take anymore, snapping, the tension exploding throughout your body. Your legs tremble, and you cry out, your hips jerking erratically.

"Yes, fuck, that's it, baby, good girl," Chuuya groans, his thrusts quickening, his cock twitching and pulsing, the feeling of your walls clenching and fluttering around him, taking him over the edge.

His grip tightens, and his hips jerk, thrusting up hard, as he comes with a grunt.

You both stay there for a moment, holding each other, panting heavily, as you come down from the high.

After a moment, you lift off him and collapse into his lap, completely spent. He wraps his arms around you and chuckles softly. "Wow," he murmurs, "that was... incredible."

You can't help but grin. "Mmmm... you're not so bad yourself, mister." You tap him teasingly on the nose.

"Oh yeah?" He raises an eyebrow, a glint of mischief in his eye. "Just wait 'til next time. I'll really blow your mind."

"Next time, huh? Awfully confident, aren't we?" you joke, nestling contentedly against his chest. "I suppose I could pencil you in..."

He laughs and pulls you closer, dropping a tender kiss on your forehead. "Sounds like a date."

[charlie-lec-stories]

Good enough // CL16 & MV1

Pairing: Charles Leclerc / Original Female Character / Max Verstappen

Summary: Max is not always the confident man he looks like.

Warnings: Self-esteem issues, some dark thoughts, talks about eating disorders.

Author’s Note: Men can also suffer from low self-esteem and body insecurities. Rate: +16 (inappropriate language)

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

She always slept in the middle and Max was okay with that, because even though he loved to cuddle Charles, he was a living heater, like Max. Y/N was like an ice cube and it was great to have her in the middle, cooling them down. Watching her peaceful face in the morning was also a plus. That was the sight he found that morning, her laying face up, her lips slightly parted, Charles half on top of her, his nose buried on the crook of her neck and his left arm over her protectively, his fingers brushing Max's middle. The Monegasque was snoring softly, the noise muffled by Y/N's collarbones. As always, Charles was shirtless, it was impossible for him to rest well with clothes and it wasn't like the Dutchman or their girl would complain about it. On the contrary, she started progressively to sleep with less clothes on. Max wasn't sure when it happened but she went from loving to trying different PJ's and seeing which one was more comfortable to sleeping in just a tank top and a pair of cotton panties. Again, there were no complaints about that. Max could never complain about seeing them with little to no clothing, they were literally the most beautiful people he had ever met.

He knew that she was perfect since the first time he laid eyes on her, while they were teenagers. He felt his breath itch just looking at her face, and when they became closer and she started hugging him more, he became addicted to the touch of her skin, soft and plush under his fingers. He could remember the first time he saw her in underwear like a core memory, they were still friends and he had never felt so guilty for anything as he felt for his thoughts that night. She spent the night at his house, they both had a race the next day and her parents couldn't take her, so he offered her to stay at his house and go with him the next day. His father was less than pleased with his idea, but agreed anyway. She changed in front of him like it was the most normal thing in the world, he was her best friend and she felt safe with him, the tug of guilt he felt in his heart for looking at her like she was a whole meal still haunted him. But he thought she was breath-taking, every inch of her body was just too perfect to be real. He was seventeen at the time, so his mind went to places that he wasn't proud of, but even if he wasn't sexualizing her all the time now that they were older, he still could say that she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

Then there was Charles, who Max knew for a fact was the most wanted man in motorsport. People just worshiped his body like it was a whole temple and Max couldn't agree more with those people. He would definitely join a cult about Charles' body. From his cute, messy hair to his toned legs, Charles was a living Greek God and Max thanked Zeus every day for making his boyfriend figuratively allergic to wearing shirts. Summer Charles was his favorite, all hot and bothered, walking around sporting his smallest shorts and needing someone to apply sunscreen on his back three times a day. Max would always volunteer for that. But Spring Charles was also great, always wearing half buttoned shirts, chest showing teasingly. Max's second favorite was Autumn Charles, who liked to work out in compression shirts, leaving him and Y/N looking at his body the whole time they should be training. Winter Charles was less of a show off, but that doesn't mean he didn't serve... There were few sights as beautiful as the Monegasque in winter attire, with his nose reddened and smile on full display. Max could spend hours just looking at Charles sitting in front of the fire, warming up while chatting with Y/N about all of his favorite things.

He watched them both sleep for a few minutes, following the ups and downs of their chests, the covers up to Charles' hips, giving away just a peek of the navy blue panties Y/N wore that time to sleep. He felt lucky, but he also felt terrible about himself. As he got up from the bed, he sighed softly, doing the best he could to suppress the negative thoughts that tried to settle down on his mind. Walking down the hallway and towards the kitchen, he couldn't stop his body and it positioned itself in front of the mirror at the entrance of the living room. He looked at his reflection with a shy gaze, the dark shirt made him look slimmer, or at least he told himself that. The deep breath he took was shaky and when his hands moved to his hips, the hem of it tensed, highlighting a little roll on his lower belly. He looked away disgusted, his hands falling back down by his sides and walked quickly to the kitchen to start breakfast. He focused on his Stroopwafels, he wanted them to be ready before Charles woke up, or else he would complain about eating in the morning and skip breakfast. His boyfriend was a disaster when it came to food, he didn't like many dishes, and the Stroopwafels were one of the few things Charles liked to eat in the morning.

Max thought about skipping breakfast and instead going for a run, burning that roll he saw in the mirror, but he knew that it was not healthy behavior. He didn't like the way he looked, he did feel ugly, but he was aware of the limits between feeling bad about himself and doing risky things to achieve the body he wanted. Still, once in a while, his low self-esteem would entertain the idea of skipping a meal or extending a training session. He didn't resent his partners for being physically perfect, but he did feel like he wasn't good enough for their perfection. He would sometimes look at them, so incredibly good-looking together, and think that he didn't look as good as he should, like he was out of place with their beauty. The fact that they loved him was important to him, he understood that they loved him for his personality and not for his looks, and he wasn't a superficial man, constantly thinking about his or other people's looks, still, he sometimes wondered what they saw in him. When he was making out with them and they felt so into it, he would ask himself once in a while how it was possible that someone like him could turn them on. It was some kind of miracle that a woman who could have any man in the world, who already had Charles fucking Leclerc would want to have sex with him, or al least that's how he felt like.

"Morning, Amor". (Love). He heard Y/N voice as her arms wrapped around him, her cheek pressed against his back. He felt her kissing his shoulder and then playfully bite him. He laughed.

"Morning, Schat. How did you sleep?". He took the last Stroopwafel out of the pan and then turned around to face her.

"Bien, but woke up around 3 am wanting to peet and went back to sleep right away because you both were squeezing me so bad that I couldn't even go to the bathroom". (Good). She pouted and then giggled, making him smirk, loved her giggles. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him, her hands moving to his hair to pull at it a little, he moaned but gathered his composure back quickly.

"No funny business, no time for that". He said against her lips and she huffed. It was a Wednesday and they were all traveling to the USA for the triple-header.

"It won't take too long, I promise". She dragged her hands down his torso, he loved every second of that, until she reached the hem of his shirt and her fingers touched the skin of his lower belly. He grew self conscious fast and then pushed her hands away. She looked at him worried, not for him not wanting to have sex but for him to refuse her touch as if it was burning him. He had those reactions once in a while and it always made her wonder what was wrong, but he never seemed open to talk about it.

"I just don't want us to be late, Schat". He quickly lied and she let it slide. He kissed her again, just to let her know that they were good. They heard Charles' footsteps and the conversation died there.

In Austin, they were gratefully surprised with the fact that they were staying all in the same hotel, which meant that they could share a room all five nights. Charles and Y/N didn't even bother on settling down in their rooms, knowing that they weren't spending a second there, instead, they took their suitcases to Max's room and then plopped down on the bed. Max was still acting weird, he barely let them cuddle him on the plane, didn't ramble about anything and then just went straight to the shower, taking his sweet time there. Charles, even though he had been close to Max for less time, also picked up on his strange behavior. They knew that Max was allowed to have bad days and be moody, but these episodes were different from being moody. He looked sad, like the spark he usually had suddenly lacked power. The two talked about it, wondering what could have happened and how to bring up the subject to Max without scaring him off. The last thing they wanted was to make him feel uncomfortable or pressured to open up about something he wasn't ready. Once he walked out of the bathroom, completely dressed to bed, they made themselves comfortable and drifted off.

"You look stunning today, Y/N". Max heard one of the reporters say while they were all on the media pan. Max suppressed an eye-roll, she always looked great and someone always had to point it out. He was a little jealous, but the fact that he had felt particularly bad about himself the last few days didn't help.

"Thank you". She said with a tight grin, she wasn't a fan of physical compliments, she would rather people calling her a good driver instead. The reporter proceeded with his question about her good Qualifying that afternoon and she then gave him a complete answer with her feedback about the track and the car. He watched her talk, the way her hands moved as she explained something, her lips that did the best they could as she struggled with her pronunciation and how her nose scrunched when she talked about the least things she liked about the track.

"Max". He turned around to look at Charles, the Monegasque discreetly leading him to an empty room when the media pan was over. "Are you alright, babe?".

"Yeah, sure". He tried to play it cool, but the concerned look on Charles' eyes was making it really hard.

"Are you sure? Because you haven't looked fine for a few days now". Max knew what he meant, he knew that Charles was talking about his mood, but Max couldn't help but associate Charles' words to his body."I know I don't look fine, I'll do better". He walked out of the room, leaving Charles even more confused than before.

Austin went terribly for Charles and Y/N, both of them ending up disqualified after the race, the Ferrari driver losing a P6 and the Mercedes a podium. Max had won and still he didn't feel any better, so the mood back in the room wasn't the best. "Couples that get disqualified together, stay together" was the caption that their PR managers decided to use when they posted their joint post about the FIA's decision. Max looked at the picture over and over again, even sad they looked nice. Or maybe it was him that loved them so much that was unable to see a single defect in them. He didn't care, they were perfect in his eyes, and he wasn't good enough, no matter how much he could win. The next stop was Mexico and Max was already in a bad mood to also having to deal with Checo's fans. He got the chance to share his podium with Charles and Y/N there and that made everything a little bit better, but watching their pictures online, the three of them together was painful. And to top it, between Mexico and Brazil, Y/N trended on Twitter when a particularly good picture of her after the race "broke the internet". She was being called the most beautiful woman of motorsport, and it was all too much for Max.

Charles walked inside the room with his spare key, they were both at the same hotel in Brazil and Y/N staying just a block away, to find Max on the bed. His knees were all the way up to his chest and Charles could see that he was crying, thanks to the shaky movement of his back. With soft steps, he walked to the bed and sat down next to Max, placing his hand atop his shoulder and squeezing. The sob that the Dutchman let out broke Charles' heart in a million pieces. He quickly pulled out his phone and sent a short text to his girlfriend, requesting her presence, then he got into bed with Max, pulling him to his chest and letting him cry as much as he needed. Y/N arrived 20 minutes later, having to work her way through some PR duties before she could be free. Max was a lot more calm when she made it there, her two boyfriends resting on the bed, while Charles moved his hands up and down Max's back. The Ferrari driver looked up when he heard her walk in and they shared a look before she sat down at the other side of Max and ran her fingers through his blonde locks. She saw him let out a sigh and then a few more tears fell down his cheeks.

"Amor, what is it?". She spoke as gently as she could, not wanting to startle him. "Please, we want to help, Max".

"You can't. I'm the problem, not you". His voice was hoarse, the crying taking a toll on his throat.

"You're not a problem, Max. What are you saying?". Charles was almost offended at Max's comment, how could he call himself a problem when he was so darn amazing?

"Okay, we're not avoiding this anymore". She changed her tone from sweet to serious. "Both of you, sit up". They followed the order, Max resting his back against the headboard of the bed. "What's up with you?"

"Don't play dumb". Charles warned him after he saw Max was ready to straight up lie to them again. They waited patiently, and Max just looked around the room, feeling self-conscious. Their gazes were too intense and he couldn't take them.

"I've been feeling bad about myself". He whispered it, hoping that they wouldn't ask for him to repeat himself. They didn't.

"About your body?". Y/N placed a hand on his thigh as she asked the question, Max just nodded.

"But why? There's nothing wrong about you, Max". Charles made the comment so nonchalantly that Max almost laughed.

"Everything is wrong with my body!". He laughed bittersweetly as he said that, like he was amused by the fact that they didn't understand.

"Max, you're going to have to elaborate on that, because we can't see anything wrong with you". He could see that she was concerned, it wasn't just the tone of her voice, but also how hard she was pressing her hand against his tight.

"I'm ugly, so ugly. I don't even understand how you don't see it!". Charles was straight up horrified by the comment, Y/N kept a neutral face, she wanted to see where this was leading so she could fix it. "I'm fat and my face is not pretty or anything like that. Clothes don't fit me right and I look terrible in pictures".

"This stupid, you're saying stupid things". Charles couldn't believe what he was hearing and the string of French curses he let out after his comment just proved further that he was not agreeing with Max's perspective of himself. Y/N was more concerned about Max fat-shaming himself, as if gaining weight was something bad or even him getting fatter was true, considering he was a pretty fit guy. They had a long journey of self-love ahead.

"Charlie, you're not helping". She tried to calm him down, but Charles was angry.

"He's saying stupid stuff! How can he say that?!". Max stayed quiet. "Anyone would kill to be you, you're fucking perfect!".

"What?". That took Max by surprise. He had called them perfect for so much time that he felt the term foreign when it was directed towards himself.

"There's nothing wrong with you, Max". He turned to look at Y/N, she moved her hand from his leg to his face, running her thumb over his cheekbone. "We think you're amazing, perfect".

"But why? You're both so good-looking!". He couldn't believe it. "How could you think that of me looking like you guys do?"

"This is stupid". Y/N rolled her eyes.

"Looks like "stupid" is the word of the day". That made Max laugh softly, she smiled and shifted her position on the bed to sit on his lap. "I love your smile, I love it even more when it reaches your eyes because they look even better".

"You make it sound like he's doing it himself, it's easy for his eyes to look great when he has those eyes''. Charles was being actually useful with his angry comebacks.

"I also said that I love his smile".

"He has the whitest, most perfect teeth on Earth, you could turn off the lights and still find him if he smiles". Max smiled at that, looking at the frowning Charles that huffed and kept cursing in French. Y/N grabbed Max's face and made him look at her.

"We love you, Max. Not just the fact that you're an incredible person or a generational talent driving cars. I love looking at you and I love having sex with you". He blushed, she giggled. "I'm not sure where this idea of you being ugly came from, but I can assure you that you're extremely handsome and hot to me".

"Of course he is! Mon Dieu, thinking he's ugly... Simply stupid". (My God).

"He agrees". Max properly laughed this time. She kissed him, pressing herself against him to make him feel her heartbeat. They broke apart after a moment, both needing to breathe. "I know that getting those thoughts out of your head is not easy, but please, if you ever, ever think about yourself like that again, tell us. I promise you, we will prove you wrong".

"Really?".

"Yes, really. We love you, even when you talk stupid".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hope you guys like it!! Happy New Year everyone, and have a great 2024.

[tieronecrush]

office party

javier peña x f!reader

summary: your friend with benefits, javier, is your plus one for your dreaded office holiday party. when a coworker gets a bit too comfortable, javier steps in and shows you exactly how he feels about you.

rating: M

wc: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol use, mentions of sex, inappropriate advances from coworker, fwb, probably missing some so lmk what!!

a/n: my contribution to @pedrostories secret santa event!! was a busy holiday season so i wish i could have done more but excited to participate nonetheless. i hope you enjoy @flightlessangelwings and happy holidays to you!!! and tysm my love @northernbluess for proofing

dividers by @saradika

“Christ, where is he? Gettin’ freezing out here…” you mumble to yourself, gritted through your teeth as you stand shivering in your party attire — a tasteful black velvet cocktail dress, hem stopping a couple of inches above your knees and long sleeves with a sweetheart neckline. Fidgeting with your charm necklace, you nervously scan the entrance stairs to the history museum for the familiar face.

It’s the night before your office lets out for the holidays, and it’s also the night they host their annual holiday party. Even though it was quite the affair and your large law firm spares no expense for the event, you never really looked forward to being confronted with colleagues in ways you didn’t need to see them, and there was usually one man who would hit on you. Open bar, catered food, always in a gorgeous venue, it was a recipe for a great time or a horrible time, depending on your found company for the night. This year was the history museum, one of your favorite spots in the city. The daydreams you’ve had about taking him here pop into your mind like a flash in the pan — fleeting, and simply something to stay as a daydream.

A tinge of reluctance tugs in your gut. Was it weird to ask him here? Is he going to stand you up?

But then, there was Javier. Looking sharp as ever in a suit, one you’ve seen him in once after he stopped by yours after a late night working. Black, with a crisp white shirt and a red tie to fit into the holiday spirit. A smirk plays on his lips when he spots you, taking the stone steps two at a time as he approaches. It had taken a bit of convincing — virtually bribing — to get him to agree to be your plus one for the night, and when he did confirm that he would come along with you, the prospect of the party actually being something more bearable skyrocketed instead of the excruciating evening you usually expect.

“Hey there, querida. Why’re you waiting out in the cold for me? Debe estar congelándose. (You must be freezing.)” Javier greets you with concern knit into his brow, his big brown eyes softened and sparkling in the low streetlight. His large palms find the sides of your arms, rubbing gently to warm you up.

“Didn’t want to get pulled into the abyss alone in there,” you jest, “I don’t know if you’d have been able to find me with all the hiding I have to do from weird coworkers.”

You laugh and Javier chuckles lightheartedly, shaking his head as he relaxes in front of you. Nodding his head toward the door, he follows behind you as you lead with a hand at your lower back.

“Is there anyone I should watch out for specifically tonight? Am I gonna have to act as a bodyguard? Should I tell any of the creeps I have a gun?” Javier’s lips graze your ear as he speaks, keeping close to you when you enter and the sounds of the party erupt. A jolt runs down your spine from the intimate contact. It’s your turn to shake your head, breathing out a laugh as you limply hit your hand against his chest.

Your excitement around seeing Javier and spending more time with him was getting much more frequent and much more intense. Bordering the point where you don’t know if you can keep up the arrangement with the feelings you’re developing for him.

Friends of a few years, there’s always been a flirty undertone between you and Javier. It built up to the point that when everyone had cleared out from a dinner party at your place, Javier stayed behind to help clean up — always a gentleman — and the two of you, admittedly a bit tipsy from the wine that was flowing all night, told each other one a whim that you were attracted to each other. Both free from any ties of old relationships, you fell into an agreement: sex, great sex at that, with no strings attached. You two would remain friends and get exactly what you wanted, which was each other, without the messiness of a relationship. Something you were both jaded from.

These days, however, the lines were starting to blur on your end. Everything he did seemed to tip you further into the deep end before you finally came to terms and accepted that you had completely cannonballed into it.

Javier is a good guy. Didn’t have that reputation around town when you first met, but getting to know him in the wee hours of the morning after a few rounds, you fell fast and hard. It wasn’t until recently that you came to terms with it.

“Nobody needs the interrogation tactics or intimidation tonight, Peña.”

“Okay, okay…Tengo que asegurarme de que te traten bien. (I have to make sure you’re treated right.) One of their best employees, shouldn’t have to put up with the shit, querida.”

The air in the grand entrance of the city’s museum crackles with holiday cheer as festive decorations adorn every corner. Garland hangs around the banisters of the grand staircase that leads further into the museum, but most of the activity is in the large, marble-lined room you both stand in. Nearly every employee seems to be in attendance, people milling about in cliques and others indulging in drinking or dancing.

As both of you saunter toward the bar, the atmosphere softens with each step, the clinking of glasses and the chatter of coworkers weaving together into a cacophony of merriment. Javier grabs you two drinks, a glass of champagne for you and whiskey neat for him, toasting to the night ahead. The clinking of glasses resonates with your unspoken agreement: tonight, like every other night, would end the same way. No strings.

Amidst the swirl of laughter and twinkling lights, and the loosening power of liquor, the boundary between friendship and something deeper becomes increasingly blurred. Flirty comments dance back and forth, charged with an unspoken tension that lingers beneath the surface.

“You look beautiful tonight, cariño. How come I haven’t seen this dress before?” Javier asks, the two of you standing at a cocktail table, alone and enjoying it.

“Guess you’d have to be my plus one more often, Javi. Then you could see all the dresses in my closet,” you counter, smirking playfully and biting back the desire to mention something akin to a real date for both of you.

“Guess so, querida. Might have to make this a regular thing.” Javier sends you a wink before clinking your glasses together in another smaller toast, a smirk painting his face as he lifts the tumbler to his mouth for a sip.

With every exchanged glance and teasing remark, it’s evident that you’re tiptoeing on the edge of uncharted territory, yearning to express feelings that had long been confined. It’s unclear if Javier feels the same, but soft touches and gentle words ply you open even further, teetering with falling completely.

Then, amidst the dance of emotions and flirtations, a coworker appears in the corner of your eye, sauntering toward the table and bursting the privacy bubble that you happily curated with Javier. His name’s Jake, a man around your age who is friendly with you in the office, sociable guy with one of those “winning” personalities the partners would compliment endlessly. A guy’s guy. But one that had no problem approaching the women in the office. With a warm smile, he extends a hand towards the man at your side, introducing himself with an easy charm that seemed almost too perfect — of course, referring to Javier already as his ‘buddy’. The hint of jealousy that flickers across Javier's face doesn’t escape your notice, and you can’t help but feel a tingle of endearment for his slightly soured mood from being interrupted.

As the night progresses, Jake's alcohol-infused attempt at camaraderie with you grows increasingly unwelcome. He’d been watching you like a hawk so far, cutting in whenever Javier left to grab more drinks or when another coworker pulled his attention away to try to pick his brain about all that’s happening in the government right now. Inching closer to you, Jake leans against the hightop table, making conversation with slurred words and uninhibited want behind his eyes.

When you shift slightly away, attempting to remain civil enough at a work event, you feel yourself bump into Javier. 

At that moment, Javier turns to see if you tapped him to grab his attention, but is met with the clear look of discomfort on your face. Jake leaning in closer, eyes wandering as you responded in the conversation, clearly attempting to check you out. Frustration toward the man in front of you lit in his chest, holding himself back from confronting him and instead fully embracing his purpose for the night. If he was invited as your date, he could act like it, right?

His arm wraps around you possessively, his lips pressing kisses on your temple, and whispered words meant to keep you close. Surprised at first, but happy to feel closer to him and to relish in the protective boyfriend persona, even if it is only to keep a creep away from you.

Jake, seemingly oblivious to the change in dynamics, spoke up louder, laying a hand on your arm and squeezing, “So you ever wanna cut out of work early and get a drink? Maybe end up back at my place? You can wear that dress.”

The proposition sends a ripple of discomfort through the air. Other coworkers turn away, ignoring the advance that left you shocked and speechless. But, Javier, now fully immersed in his role, takes a stern tone, cutting in and gently maneuvering you behind him.

“Hey, cabrón, why don’t you apologize for speaking to her like that?” Javier instructs, nodding to you while your hands wrap around his arm closest to you. “Or am I going to have to find one of your supervisors and tell them all this shit myself? Don’t speak to her again, or even look at her. And I will know if you do — I’ve got eyes everywhere, buddy.”

The look on Jake’s face makes you laugh softly from behind Javier, shaking your head as he backs away and leaves with his tail between his legs. Javier turns to you, wrapping you up in one of his arms and brushing his fingers softly against your cheek.

Concern softens his eyes, the same look that he greeted you with when he found you waiting in the cold, “You alright, cariño? Fucking asshole. You shouldn’t have to deal with that, should report him or something.”

“I’m alright, Javi. Thank you…You didn’t have to—”

Javier shakes his head, smiling with one side of his mouth and kissing your forehead, “‘Course I did. Can’t let anyone talk to you like that.”

You lean into his chest and smile, lightening the mood with a playful comment, “Seemed pretty comfortable being threatening. Did it bring you back to the good ol’ days being a sheriff?”

Ever the master of evasion, Javier shrugs it off with a casual demeanor, attempting to maintain the façade of indifference with a nod, “Sure did. But they weren’t the good ol’ days.”

Hearing the smile in his voice causes a wave of affection for him that washes over you, coming to the realization that it’s either now or never. A surge of courage propels you to take the leap, confessing the fact that you see more with Javier, that you want more with him.

“I know we said no strings, and it was like that at first, but the more I’ve gotten to know you, the more I’ve found that I love you. And you can absolutely walk away and nothing will be held against you, but I can’t keep up with this if I can’t tell you how I feel.”

The atmosphere between you shifts, and for a moment, the world seems to stop entirely.

Javier's eyes softened, and with a sincerity that catches you off guard, he shares a confession too, “Querida, I fell in love with you in the first moment I met you. The second I kissed you for the first time was when I realized it. I thought maybe I could keep it all in, ‘cause I didn’t want to lose you as a friend and just as a part of my life, but I love you, cariño. Have since I heard that laugh of yours and saw that gorgeous smile. And I haven’t felt the same way I feel about you for anyone else before.”

In that moment of vulnerability, the boundaries that confined your actions shatter, opening up a door, wide and clear, for you to walk through and never close.

Away from the crowded party, you find yourselves standing in a doorway adorned with sprigs of mistletoe, a symbol of serendipity. Under the soft glow of the festive lights, Javier takes a step closer, and his lips meet yours in a gentle, lingering kiss. His hand caresses your cheek, one arm wrapping around your waist while yours rest around his neck, pulling him in for a deeper kiss.

As you break apart, Javier looks into your eyes, a sincerity shining through that mirrored the twinkle of holiday lights.

"I love you," he confesses, the words hanging in the air like the melody of a cherished carol.

“I love you, too,” you return, a glowing smile and feeling giddy for the rest of the holiday season with Javier.

taglist: @northernbluess @atinylittlepain @swiftispunk @joelsversion @mrsmando @ilovepedro @deathwife @undrthelights @atticrissfinch @casa-boiardi @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @fishingforpike @msjarvis @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sugadolly @yazsos @peppesgirl @pastawench @addictedtotlou @brittmb115 @anoverwhelmingdin @spishsstuff @wolfbook87 @mswarriorbabe80 @harriedandharassed @decemberdolly @laiisleitte @fierce-bab @vickie5446 @pertinentpostmortem @livingdeadmaria @sullyosully @bitchwitch1981 @its-nebuleuse @marini03 @piercethevic03 @joeandpedrosimp @kiwisbell @planet-marz1 @txtattoostark @jrosie25 @thereaperisabitch @tbniarq @vee-bees-blog @spidermanfrog @belliezz @joelsflannel @k-k0129 @cartoon-garbage04 @bianqueee04 @nostalxgic

[foxy-eva]

Lavender & Lace

Summary: Spencer didn't know how much fun going shopping with his girlfriend would be

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut 

Content Warning: (18+, minors DNI) lingerie, semi-public sex (in a dressing room), almost getting caught, fingering, unprotected penetrative sex

Word Count: 1.6k

Masterlist

When you initially asked Spencer to come shopping with you, he expected to see you in different options for new work attire, maybe some casual clothes as well. What he hadn't expected was you grabbing one piece of very alluring lingerie after the other with the prospect of letting him see you wearing each of them. 

Spencer, currently standing right behind you, was holding four different types of bras for you while you inspected some more underwear that would leave very little to the imagination. 

With a smirk spread over your face, you wondered, "What do you think about this one?"

"Uhm…," was all Spencer had to say to that. 

It was getting harder by the second for Spencer to not imagine you wearing all those tempting clothing options. He knew that if he'd allow his mind to wander that things could get very inappropriate very quickly. There was no denying the disadvantages of the male anatomy when it came to impure thoughts in a public place. 

"I think I'll just have to try on everything!" You chirped as you grabbed your boyfriend's hand to lead him to the fitting rooms. 

When you wanted to pull him into the confined space, Spencer hesitated, asking, "You want me to go in there with you?"

"I need to know what you think." Pointing at the clothes Spencer was still holding for you, you added, "Unless you want me to walk out of the dressing room for everyone to see me wearing this."

After contemplating his options for a split second, Spencer stepped into the changing room with you and closed the curtain behind him. Sitting down on the little chair in the corner, he handed you the first bra to try on. You were quick to undress and noticed how Spencer's cheeks began glowing once your chest was exposed. 

It was obvious how hard he tried to be respectful but he couldn't help but shyly take a glimpse of your curves. You found his reaction endearing, especially knowing how different he usually was when he saw you naked in another context. 

"Spencer, you have seen them a million times," you giggled.

He found your eyes and corrected you, "It's only been 158 times. And I still can't believe how beautiful you are."

For a moment you tried to recount if this number could be accurate but you knew Spencer never made a mistake when it came to math. You almost wanted to tell him that you couldn't believe he knew the exact number but the truth was, you weren't surprised at all. 

Spencer's eyes followed every one of your moves a lot more blatantly than before as you tried on the first piece of clothing. You started with the most modest one, a bra with a color similar to your skin tone you could wear in your everyday life. Your boyfriend almost seemed relieved when you picked that one to try on first. 

"It works but it's not really what I'm looking for," you said as you reached back to unclasp it. 

Once again Spencer's eyes fell to your chest and you couldn't help but laugh, "My eyes are up here."

"Sorry," he mumbled, his entire face colored in a lovely rosy shade. 

You reached for a more alluring piece of lingerie, something you thought Spencer would really like on you. 

As you brushed over the lavender-colored lace, you announced, "I think I'll try that one next."

Spencer audibly gulped before clearing his throat but he didn't say anything. Once the bra was in place, you noticed how thin the fabric was. It was barely covering the curve of your breast and your nipples were visible. Nothing you owned came even close to how daring this bra was. 

Spencer noticed that, too. 

He also noticed how his pants suddenly got a lot tighter, his attempt to keep his thoughts decent failed at last. His mind raced to a image of you wearing that piece of lingerie together with a matching pair of panties that he would just push aside to fuck you. 

The soft tone of your voice brought him back to reality. "Could you help me adjust the straps?" 

He got up from the chair, aware that he was unable to hide the bulge in his pants from you. At this point he had already abandoned his hope to be able to keep up a decent demeanor. 

"Looks like you really like this one," you purred once you noticed. 

Spencer stood behind you, finding your eyes in the mirror. 

"I do," he confirmed. "I love that color on you." 

When his fingertips made contact with the skin of your back, a shiver ran down your spine. He was quickly done with adjusting the straps of the bra but let his hands linger anyway. His eyes were dark and filled with lust, a look you usually only got to see when you were alone with him. 

"What are you thinking?" You breathed as if it wasn't obvious. 

Still acting too reserved for your liking, he answered,"I'd rather not say."

You didn't let go just yet, encouraging him to speak his mind by saying, "No need to be shy."

Spencer leaned down to find your ear, his breath feeling hot against your neck when he groaned, "I'm thinking about what I want to do later."

One of your hands reached back to feel his hardness through his pants, whispering, "Why wait?" 

"We're in public," he reminded you as he removed your hand despite his desperation to find some relief. 

Your hands flew to your pants, undoing them as you cooed, "Guess I'll have to be quiet then." 

Spencer looked at you in disbelief, clearly hesitating to bring to action what both of you longed for. Once your pants dropped to the floor, there was no more holding back. He pressed himself against your back and let his hands wander over your body. One of them made contact with the curve of your breasts, brushing over the thin lace of the bra until your peaks hardened. 

The other hand descended down your stomach until his fingertips carefully parted your folds to access your most sensitive spot. He teased you for a few moments until he was certain you were ready for him. With a firm push against your shoulder he slightly bent your body until your palms met the mirror. 

His mouth found your ear once more, breathing, "One sound and I'll stop."

When you heard the sound of him undoing his belt, you felt like you might lose your mind. Gone was any trace of the shy man who barely dared to take a look at the lingerie you picked out. The way he let his eyes roam over your figure now excited you more than you could put into words.

Through the mirror you watched him spit in his palm to give himself a few strokes. You stood on your tiptoes and tilted your hips a little more to give him access to your body. He didn't hold back in the slightest, pushing into you with one swift motion while his mouth kissed along your neck. Biting down on your own lips, you tried your best to hold back the moans that usually escaped your mouth in moments like this. 

The sensation of creating such an intimate moment in an almost public setting like this was too much for you to handle. Usually Spencer took his time with you, teasing you with slow thrusts until you begged for more. Today was different. He pushed into you with purposeful motions, making it clear that he wanted you to fall over the edge within just a few moments. 

You locked eyes with him through the mirror and admiring the rosy shade spread all over his cheeks and neck. It was obvious how much he was enjoying this moment, almost forgotten was the possibility that someone could disturb the two of you. 

Until you heard a stranger's voice from the other side of the curtain. 

Spencer instantly stopped moving while placing his hand over your mouth. You were sure that this would be the end of your encounter, making you abandon your mission before either of you had found relief. But your boyfriend just listened and waited with a lot more patience than you'd expected. 

It appeared that the stranger was talking to someone else and soon walked away from their place right in front of your dressing room. When he was sure that nobody knew about the lewdness happening behind the curtain, Spencer began moving again, harsher and quicker than before. 

"You better hurry or we'll get caught," he whispered before kissing the side of your face.

He kept his hand on your mouth, not fully trusting you to stay quiet. It proved to be the right choice once you entered a state of pure bliss, the sounds of your pleasure muffled by Spencer’s hand pressed against your lips. The second he felt you pulsing around his hardness, he let go as well. He shared your warmth with you until neither of you had anything left to give. 

When your bodies parted, the remains of your shared desire began dripping down your thighs. Spencer was quick to hand you a tissue from your purse and helped you clean up any evidence of impropriety.

Once both of your pants were back in place, Spencer found your eyes and softly asked, "Are you okay?"

Smiling at him, you nodded, "Yes, are you?" 

"Yeah but…," he paused and placed his hands on your waist, gently moving them up until they brushed over the purple lace of the bra. "I think I'll need to see you wearing that again at home." 

"That can be arranged," you snickered. "I'm pretty sure there's also a matching pair of panties." 

After placing a kiss on your lips, Spencer chuckled, "I can’t wait to see that."

If you enjoyed reading this story you should check out the other fics in my NSFW Masterlist!

Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @spookydrreid @gspenc @justreadingficsdontmindme @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @pauline5525mgg @sanaz1dlol @luredwithpretzels @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @s4r4hsblog @sebs-oxygen @beepbooptoop @lovejules888 @liltimmyst @encyclo-reid-ia @lilibet261 @fandomstuffff @spencer-reid-wonderland @happymangospot @conniesanchor @reaux02 @ellamaianderson @cynbx @dashneydanger @melifluorei-d @bitchassbecky691 @iameternallylonely @hotchandspencearedilfs @kobaltdragon @amititties @lover-of-books-and-tea @castiels-majestic-wings @torigorie @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @reidtopia @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @jordie-gvf-admin @saturnstringz @missabsey

Join my taglist here

[witchywithwhiskey]

witchywithwhiskey's steve rogers masterlist

you'll find full content warnings and summaries on each fic. some works contain dark themes and elements such as dubcon and noncon, so proceed with caution. you're responsible for your own media consumption!

key: 💖 molly's favorites ◦ ⭐️ over 1k notes ◦ 🌟 over 3k notes ◦ 💫 over 5k notes

steve rogers

first and last [fluff, smut, angst] childhood friends to lovers ⭐️

a birthday ended with a bang [fluff, smut] friends to lovers, steve's birthday ⭐️

the alpha next door [smut] omegaverse au 🌟💖

the endurance of a super-soldier [smut] catws 10-year anniversary

inappropriate attire [smut] avengers tower au, coworkers to lovers

ever since i met you [smut, fluff] friends to lovers, valentine's day

offer me my deathless death [smut] greek myth au, strangers to lovers

put on a show [smut] established bdsm relationship

a dream in the bookshop [smut] bookshop owner au, mutual pining ⭐️

a shelter in the storm [smut] park ranger au, strangers to lovers ⭐️💖

hallowe’en fun with your werewolf knight [smut] werewolf au, royalty au ⭐️

halloween is the perfect time for tricks—and treats [smut] friends to lovers 💫💖

screaming in a haunted corn maze [smut] strangers to lovers ⭐️💖

a deal with the devil comes with wicked strings [smut] demon au ⭐️

a king's morning [smut, fluff] lotr au, royalty au ⭐️💖

a fair punishment & take your punishment [smut] established bdsm relationship ⭐️

happy wife, happy life [smut] established relationship, husband/wife

the best birthday gift [smut] avengers tower meet-cute

it's your captain's birthday [smut] dark-ish beach party

his radiant sunflower [fluff] farmer au comfort fic

lilacs & ink [fluff] tattoo artist au ⭐️

at the hand or command of a man [smut] modern royalty au, arranged marriage 💖

right where you belong [fluff] college au, idiots in love ⭐️

tomorrow’s a promise [smut] older brother's best friend au 💖

nothing he could do but touch you [smut] roommates au, dark 💖

so pretty with a knife in your hand [smut] serial killer au, dark

you got yourself a bet, sweetheart [fluff] rivals, movie star au 💖

nowhere near done [smut] bodyguard au, enemies to lovers

your heart a pancake [fluff] drunken confession ⭐️

and all was lost [smut] DARK non-con 💖

get this girl some ice cream! [fluff] emotional hurt/comfort

wear his mark [smut] vampire au

pretty flowers for a pretty girl [fluff] farmer au

dripped heavy like warm honey [smut, fluff] established relationship

cookies and cocoa and a little bit of patience [christmas, smut, fluff] established relationship

giddyup and ride my sleigh [christmas, smut, fluff] established relationship

a threat beneath the nice veneer [smut, eventual fluff(ish)] enemies to lovers

you’ll always be the sexiest man alive to me, captain [smut, fluff] coworkers to lovers

what are best friends for〈deleted scene〉 [smut] friends to lovers

steve rogers & bucky barnes

room for one more [smut, fluff] movie star au, some stucky

furniture assembling drabbles [fluff] neighbor steve rogers, roommate bucky barnes

a monster, a captain and a soldier [smut] monster!reader, avengers tower ⭐️

know how to share [fluff, pre-smut] love triangle ish, flirting, banter ⭐️💖

multiple characters including steve rogers

chris evans characters chest hair thots [smut] drabbles about ari levinson, andy barber, curtis everett, jake jensen, johnny storm, lloyd hansen, ransom drysdale and steve rogers

ova with ceo ari, dbf bucky and dark steve [smut] drabble follow ups to always keep my heart safe, safe and sound and and all was lost

steve rogers series masterlists

ONGOING: a bun in the oven series [smut, fluff] baker au, steve rogers

ONGOING: see you next shift series [smut, angst, fluff] coffeeshop au, bucky barnes, eventual steve rogers

steve rogers collections and challenge masterlists

LOTR-verse universe [smut, fluff, angst] lord of the rings au, multiple characters

a cozy steve rogers autumn [smut, fluff] fall-themed steve rogers fics

halloween fics [smut, fluff, angst] multiple characters

30 day writing trope challenge masterlist [smut, fluff, angst] multiple characters

[fillmeuplikehelium]

Lunch break - Jeong Jaehyun

It makes me so angry to see other men looking at you, I just want you for myself...

Warnings and tags: rated M, dom!jaehyun, fem!reader, jealous!jaehyun, dirty talk, alt!universe, CEO!Jaehyun

Word count: 1300

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It's Wednesday morning. Today Jaehyun’s girlfriend is coming over for lunch. Or at least that's what his employees think their boss and his girlfriend do every wednesday: have a nice and totally innocent lunch at his office. He tries to finish his work before she arrives. From his seat he can see his team working on a new project at the office next door and he regrets having glass walls instead of concrete. Glass walls don't give him the level of privacy he needs when she's around.

Jaehyun's girlfriend arrives at 12:00. She greets his employees with a kind smile and walks right into his office, placing the food bags on the small coffee table at the small lounge near the entry door. Jaehyun gets up from his desk and walks over to meet her, placing his hands on her waist and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. He's not really into public displays of affection, especially at his office.

"Hello, love" he greets her with a smile on his face. "I'll send the team away for lunch".

Jaehyun walks into the office next door and gives his team 90 minutes to go and have lunch outside. His girlfriend waits for him sitting on the fancy leather sofa, her dress a little too short and showing a little too much skin for a lunch date at the office.

When all the employees are gone, Jaehyun returns to his office, closing the glass door behind him. He stands in front of his girlfriend and rolls up his sleeves.

"How was your morning, darling?" she asks, crossing her legs. "I brought your favorite lun-"

"Do you think that dress is an appropriate attire for visiting a CEO at his office?" Jaehyun interrupts her.

"It's summer, Jaehyun. What did you expect me to wear?"

"Maybe something that wouldn't make all my employees turn and stare at you like they want to eat you"

"It's not my fault they're not used to seeing a pretty woman in a strappy dress" she utters, nonchalantly.

Jaehyun closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. He hates having this kind of argument with her because deep down he knows she's right. He loves her in a tiny summer dress but he hates seeing how people look at her from head to toe just because she's showing a little bit of legs and cleavage. Especially men.

"I just don't want them to think inappropriate things about you, baby..." Jaehyun explains.

"I don't care what your damn employees think about my body, Jaehyun"

"Don't talk to me like that" he says firmly. "I'm the one who cares about what they think, you're my girlfriend after all"

"Well, that's your fucking problem. Not mine." she states with a mocking smile.

"Stop. You know I don't like when you say bad words" he scolds her.

"If you are so mad then we should have lunch now so I can leave before your employees come back. I don't want them to think inappropriate things about me" she replies, mimicking his words. She's very aware of the way some people look at her, but she really doesn't care. It's damn summer. And she knows how crazy Jaehyun gets when he sees her wearing her summer dresses.

She leans over the coffee table and starts unpacking the lunch boxes. As she moves, the top button of her dress comes undone and Jaehyun gets to see a tiny trace of a lace bra under it.

"Forget about lunch" Jaehyun stops her, standing up straight. "Get up and show me what's under that dress"

"I prepared this myself this morning. It's a recipe I found on Youtube" she explains casually, pretending not to pay attention to him.

"Get over here" he orders her, again.

"Oh, I'm so hungry... this looks really tasty" she continues, placing all the dishes over the table. Jaehyun sounds very serious, but she loves getting him a little mad every now and then.

"I said-"

"Sit down, Jaehyun" now it's her time to boss him around. "Have a taste of this, it smells delicious". She looks at him with angelic eyes and he stares coldly at her, arms crossed over his chest.

"You wanna have lunch? he asks, finally walking over and sitting next to her. "Okay, let's have lunch."

Jaehyun reaches out and angrily grabs his chopsticks from the table. A small laugh escapes her lips making him turn his head to look at her, eyes wide open.

"What are you laughing at?" he inquires.

"Why are you so mad today? Are you jealous of your employees?" she asks, placing a hand on his leg. "You know I don't care about other people, I only have eyes for you... and maybe one or two of your friends"

Jaehyun shakes his head, cracking a smile.

"God, you love teasing me, don't you?"

She grabs the chopsticks from Jaehyun's hand and places them on the table again. Without wasting any more time she moves and sits on his lap, putting her arms around his shoulders. Jaehyun groans and grips her by the waist.

"I do love teasing you" she confesses, kissing his cheeks.

Jaehyun's anger melts down immediately with her touch. He has been dying to have her in his arms since she set foot at his office. He grabs the back of her neck and gently pulls her closer to bring their mouths together. They kiss slowly at first, lips barely brushing, but then Jaehyun moves his hand to her chin and makes her open her mouth, sliding his tongue inside. She moans and grips her arms tighter around him, running a hand through his hair and tugging a little. Jaehyun moves his hands under her dress, gripping her ass and making her grind over his lap.

They stop kissing only when they feel like they can’t breathe anymore. She continues to rub herself over him, feeling how he gets harder and harder in his pants. Jaehyun throws his head back and she takes the chance to kiss his neck, licking all the way to his ear and nibbling softly on his earlobe.

“You look so hot when you get mad, Jaehyun” she whispers. “It gets me so wet…”

“Really?” he asks, caressing her back under her dress. “Are you sure you’re not getting wet thinking about my friends?”

“It was a joke, Jaehyun. You know I love you” she answers, kissing him on the lips again.

“And I love you too, baby.” he says, breaking the kiss and looking into her eyes. “But you need to stop wearing this dresses to visit me at the office”

“Don’t you like them?” she asks, pouting a little.

“I love them, darling, you know how much I do…” Jaehyun leans over and starts giving small pecks on her neck and cleavage. “I love your legs, I love your tits, I love your skin, I love how you taste…”

Jaehyun slides his hands down to grip her ass, making her whine again.

“It makes me so angry to see other men looking at you, I just want you for myself” he pleads, gripping the hem of her dress. “Take it off, c’mon”

She gets up from his lap and unbuttons her dress until it falls freely to the floor, revealing the lace underwear she had picked out this morning to wear for Jaehyun’s eyes only.

“God, you look so damn good” Jaehyun says, admiring her body from head to toe. He can’t help but rub his hard cock through his pants, biting his lower lip.

She leans over and places her hands on his shoulders, letting him see her from up close.

“How do you want me today, sir? On your lap or on my knees?”

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Also on ao3:

Lunch break

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Jaehyun's first album comes out on August 26th. Make sure to stream! 🌹

[ghostlywhiskey]

price x reader - loopholes

╰▸john price is an unfaithful husband, but he'll think of every excuse to lessen the severity of his acts.‎‎ ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎

word count: 1,355 cw‎:‎ angst nsfw - cheating, brief dry humping, rough p in v with no protection

"john," the whine escaping your lips as your back slams against the door not long after it was slammed shut by price. the sound of the door had sent a smacking sound throughout the deserted hallway, but it wouldn't alarm anyone regardless. doors slamming in fits of anger wasn't anything new.

though, it wasn't anger that ran through price's veins. well, maybe slight anger, the frustration with you had been rising all day. and, in the midst of night was the only time he could let it all pour out of him.

"don't 'john' me." voice gruff, the familiarity of the tone causing your body to straighten out like a command was barked at you. it was never john when you two were alone together. too personal.

"yes, captain" your breath catching in your throat before his hand met your neck, the squeeze causing you to gasp for air as fingers pressed into your skin.

"care to explain your various attempts today that would have people question my character?" price growled as his lips grazed past your cheek, coming right next to your ear as his breathing cause shivers to run down your spine.

"no, captain." you stated, the back of your head resting against the door. brain warning you to correct your answer before the grip on your neck would tighten. "it was inappropriate and out of line."

"i'd say good girl, but you've been pretty fuckin' stupid today, yeah?" the hand on your neck releasing its grip as it drags down your chest to the hem of your shirt.

"stupid or strategic? got what i wanted, didn't i?" a satisfied hum pushed up your throat, your hands now in the clear to move as they pleased. hands that headed straight for the buckle of his belt.

a low chuckle exits his body, his own hands grabbing at your wrists as he walks his body back and guides yours to follow him. seating himself in the chair, without missing a beat you drop to your knees in front of him as he spreads his legs apart. forearms resting on his thighs as you give them a playful squeeze, looking up at him. fingertips brushing a piece of your hair back before his thumb glides across your lips.

"you're a brat," he mutters, your lips parting as you let his thumb push in as you secure your latch around it. slow and dragged out sucks building saliva around him, his blue eyes darkening as he watched you. after a few more moments, you pull back with a 'pop' sound at the release.

"you're no fun." you pout, hands moving back to his belt to work on removing it again before you were interrupted before.

"i'm married."

"hasn't stopped you before." it hadn't, you were right and he knew it.

his body lifted from the chair to tug his pants down, his hard on quickly met by his hand while you now raised to your feet. the focus now on your own attire as you worked to remove it.

the pants slid down your legs, but before you could have your panties join them on the floor around your ankles before you kicked them away, his free hand grabbing to stop you. your body guided once again to straddle his lap, his cock pressed against the already soaked fabric.

"just let me take them," your words cut off has his hands grab at your hips to move you against him, a soft 'oh' replacing anything you were going to say originally. he did it every time. he fought with himself in his head about what he was doing, finding every little thing he could do to make himself feel better.

"i don't have any condoms." he defended his actions of why he stopped you from removing them.

he did everything he could to make himself feel like he wasn't a complete shit husband cheating on his wife back home. a wife who had been with him since the start of his career.

having you dry hump against him, only letting you give him head or vice versa. wearing a condom and still pulling out when he would cum. all of these things made sense to him, made him feel like they were loop holes to the act of adultery.

but the feeling of his cold ring pressed against your skin caused your brain to fire out an idea. stilling your hips, you grabbed his left wrist and brought his palm up to your lips. kissing softly before lips pressed against his ring finger.

the action made your own stomach tie into knots, but it was an idea.

"doesn't count if the ring is off." your murmur against his hand, eyes watching him closely as you see his own brain register what you just said.

a loophole.

"so," eyes burning into yours as he watched your lips kiss the ring, a ring that didn't promise himself to you. "take it off for me." if he took it off, he's accountable.

nodding, lips made their wait to the top of his ring finger before you took it in your mouth, tongue swirling around to let the saliva build around the ring. your teeth at the base of the ring tugging at it to drag it up his finger until it was off, secured between your teeth. your fingers reaching to take it from your mouth and setting it down on the desk behind you.

"fuckin' 'ell," price groans, reaching for your face to look at him and pulling you down to his lips. his own teeth tugging at your bottom lip and lips pressed against yours while your hands grab at his neck. "lift up for me."

your body raising off his slightly before you feel fingers drag from back to front against your folds, knees nearly buckling. his fingers tugging the panties to the side as he guides you back down. his cock met with your already dripping cunt as you press down, nails digging into his shoulders.

"fuck." the two of you moan in unison, however, you drag out the 'uck' of the word.

"always take me so fuckin' well," price mutters mainly to himself, your hips finding a rhythm as his hands grip at your waist again. "so tight," he huffs out as you press back down on him, his hands holding you down for brief moment to feel you pulsate around him. "so fuckin' warm and wet too."

a string of moans muffled into the side of his neck as you bury your head into the crook, pressure released as he lets you resume your pace. "captain," the whine causing him to shush you, one hand coming to your neck as he holds you against him.

"don't be makin' too much noise," he warns, but its a useless warning as the sound of skin smacking against each other echoes through the room. if anyone were to pass by they could easily pick up on the sounds behind the door.

your walls clench around him every time you come back down, trying to latch around him, the feeling of him in you without a condom is addicting.

and his body reacting the same way as his grunts fill your ears, hands gripping onto you so tight that you'd figure there would be marks to show for it the next morning. he guides your body up and down to match up with his words, "fuckin. dirty. girl."

you wince at the final word as he holds you down. thick cum filling you quickly before your own thighs shaking, release around him as your arms wrap around his neck to hold him close.

both of your breaths heavy as try to come down from the high. after a few moments, the two of you pulling apart from each other, focused on cleaning and redressing yourselves. as you tug on your pants, your eyes catching price who is dressed again as if nothing happened, staring at the ring on his desk.

the hesitation is brief, but still noticeable before he grabs it, slipping it back onto his finger.

if @bbbby-blu didn't decide to send me a damn picture, we would have not been here today combating the writing slump. all credit to blu for the "take it off for me" - we thank you for your service <3

[stuffeddeer]

You're oblivious and Jinshi's an idiot | The Apothecary Diaries | Jinshi x reader

cw - gn but you're in the rear palace and maidservant is used a few times in reference to you and your job, brief mention of nail picking

You calmly sit beside the purple haired eunuch, feeling a little anxious at placing yourself in such a position. Sitting beside someone of higher rank is criminal, so nonchalantly taking up the same space as they are. Anxiously tapping your fingers against your thighs, hands resting politely in your lap and head turned down, you await his next words.

"You won't turn to me?" He seems slightly teasing, but you're too nervous to check.

Jinshi rests his elbow on top of the no doubt expensive wooden table, chin pillowed by his palm and keeping his head up. His second arm moves forward, hand lifting close to you. With careful movements, Jinshi's pointer finger brushes back a strand of loose hair, finger pad trailing down your jaw until it stops on your chin.

Still, you say nothing, body still and turned down. His pointer finger curls as it slides below your chin, pulling you to the side to look at him. An amused smile is on his lips - he was definitely teasing a moment ago - and a glimmer of affection softens his eyes. "You agreed to dinner, did you not?" He leans toward you ever so slightly, a barely imperceptible change.

"Yes, Master Jinshi," you reply obediently. Perhaps Maomao was busy with lady-in-waiting duties, you had originally thought, assuming that you were called in as a poison taster.

The lean toward you is much more apparent this time, Jinshi letting out a sigh just before doing it. He's a mere few inches from your shoulder, hand dropping from your face to grip the edge of your chair closest to him. "Then I don't understand why you seem so reserved. You're usually much more open and energetic with me."

Your lips part, about to reply with the first thought on your mind, before quickly closing your mouth. One, two, three seconds pass as you think of how to traverse the situation you've found yourself in.

"My apologies, sir,” you choose to reply, “I shouldn't have behaved so inappropriately before.” Each word is chosen with intention as you reply steadily. Is that why you've been called here? For your lax behavior around the rear palace manager?

Yes, you weren't great at maintaining a professional facade while with Jinshi. He could be childish and annoying, that's true, but more than anything you just enjoyed playing with his self-assured and flirtatious persona whenever possible. Light teasing tended to leave him speechless and you adored watching the gears turn in his brain. With certainty, you can say you’re the only maidservant to ever give back the same energy he put out.

Jinshi pulls back, staring at you with a frown as he sits properly in his seat. "That's not what you were going to say."

"No," you agree.

The frown turns to a more pronounced pout, bottom lip jutting out and eyes narrowing. He's acting childish again, something that usually makes you smile (knowing you’ve successfully pushed his buttons) but only serves to make you more nervous as you anxiously pinch the fabric of your attire between your fingers. It's a nervous habit you picked up after trying to stop yourself from picking at your fingernails, each of which is low and choppy even if you've been quite a few months free of the practice.

"What had you wanted to say?" He implores. It's cute, honestly - watching Jinshi stare at you so pleadingly as he tries to keep his voice steady. You glance around, wondering where Gaoshun has been this whole time.

"I want for nothing, Master," you reply uncharacteristically of yourself, the words sounding rehearsed even though you hadn't been expecting this exchange at all.

Join me for dinner, he'd ordered curtly. No other information, merely requesting your presence for the night before leaving. He'd seemed to be in a rush, slightly flustered as he disappeared - likely late for some work he was most assuredly pushing off at the time. You barely finished nodding before he fled the parlor you'd met him in.

"What if I ordered you to tell me?"

"Will you?"

Of course not, Jinshi wants to say, the thought manifesting as a solemn sigh as he looks away. His eyes focus on the large wooden doors ahead, hands tugging at the ends of his hair as he tries to understand where he went wrong. There was no bad blood between you two he had believed - no arguments or chastising or even the slightest criticism or critique.

“Do you even have to ask?" He ends up murmuring lowly. The purple haired man blinks slowly a few times before hearing you sigh to his right. Creaks fill the room as you undoubtedly reposition yourself on the chair he'd pulled over for you to sit in, the sound followed by you clearing your throat.

"What was it you had said? I'm normally more open with you? I was merely going to point out that I'm not normally sitting or standing so closely,” you decide to answer. "I'm never right beside you like this. Our current position only serves to remind me of my rank and where I stand in comparison. I have no right to be here; It's not right for me to be at the same side of the table as you. To be called here for business and then disrespect— "

"Business?" Jinshi cuts you off, eyebrows furrowing as he turns to you with a sincere frown. "Is that why you think I called you here?"

Nervousness shoots up your spine and crawls around your skin as you suddenly feel ruffled. Being made to look a fool isn't something you're unacquainted with being a maidservant, but for some reason, being doled out the same treatment by Jinshi specifically left you feeling embarrassed and flustered. You try to wrack your brain for not only a proper response, but a smart or witty one - yet nothing comes to mind. Without thinking, your fingers come together as you begin picking at the edges of your fingernails. Your sharp tongue has turned limp, feeling heavy in your mouth as you struggle to reply.

It seemed like all Jinshi could do now was frown, the slight flicker of his lips further down causing your breath to hitch. "I'm sorry. It seems I hadn't made my intentions clear," Jinshi pinches the bridge of his nose, feeling annoyed with himself more than anything.

Your sandbag tongue pushes your jaw down, mouth parting as you're about to tell him it's fine - even though you still aren't sure what's happening. Before you can, Jinshi continues: "How would you suggest I ask for someone's hand? I had thought my courting was obvious prior, but now I'm not so sure..."

Courting? In what world had the beautiful eunuch, heartthrob of the rear palace, been courting anyone let alone you? Dozens of admirers, even ones sworn to the emperor, had been clawing each other left and right for a sprinkle of his attention. You'd been able to cozy up to his side as a friend and useful asset inside the rear palace walls, but you never expressed the same adoration and devotion that other palace residents have.

At risk of sounding a little self-centered, you just need to clarify, "You don't mean my hand, surely..?"

Jinshi looks appalled, mouth agape and eyes wide. "Have I been that inconspicuous with my courting? I could've sworn the whole inner court could tell!" He lets out a groan, face falling onto the table in front of him. A loud bang sounds as his forehead lands on the wood harshly.

Have you been that obtuse? Combing through your mind, you recall each time you'd seen Jinshi while out and about, trying to discern if he'd honestly been too discreet or if you'd just managed to write it off. And... nothing comes to mind. Gaoshun had shown more interest in you than Jinshi had, the former always checking up on you and making sure you were alright. His presence held that of a father figure.

Speaking of, where had he run off to? It's rare for you to be completely alone with Jinshi, today marking the first of this occasion. And based on how this is turning out, likely the last as well.

Jinshi flops his head to the side, gazing up at you from the table. "Gaoshun said you took to the gifts I had him deliver," he says childishly, voice soft through his pursed lips as he pouts. "I tried not to express favoritism, as I know you don't enjoy attention from the other maidservants and court ladies and their needless prying, so I had him drop off small snacks in my stead."

A glimmer shines in your eyes as it finally clicks together. Gaoshun had always been so discreet passing you small snacks every few days. You honestly hadn't thought too much of it outside of thanking him gently, having assumed the older man merely feared for your health on hotter days. It's likely he mentioned at some point that they're from Jinshi and you had simply missed it. Or maybe you were expected to just know..?

Jinshi grumbles, a low hum sounding more like a whine than a groan, before he sits upright in his chair once again. "So, do you not like me?" He asks timidly.

"No," you reply easily. His face falls at this, causing you to backtrack. "I-I mean no I do not not like you. I'm- I'm saying I like you!.. I mean, we're friends, right?"

He pouts childishly, turning away from you with a hmph! "You know that's not what I mean!" The purple haired man's arms are crossed and nose stuck up, body language as dramatic as can be.

Of course you know what he means, yet you can't help but feel unsure anyway. There's no way the Jinshi likes you - a simple laundry attendant who picks on him sometimes. Many girls throw themselves at his feet, so why would he settle for you?

"I think I'm just a little confused," you carefully pick your words. Besides, he's your employer; Is it wise for you to encourage his delusions? There's no way the two of you could have an actual relationship. "You seem to be implying you like me, and I'm unsure if that's your intention." Once more, you shift anxiously in your seat.

The eunuch groans loudly, clearly frustrated with your incessant dismissal of his feelings. "That is my intention, yes. You're welcome to say you don't feel the same, if that's how you feel. However, I'd still like the chance to court you and try and change your mind, if you're comfortable with it."

Flustered and overwhelmed, you shake your head. "Is this appropriate? Can someone in your position court a person so drastically beneath them? What if I fall out of line, wouldn't you still have to correct me?"

A smile tugs at Jinshi's lips for a mere moment before he turns away. "I'm not courting you as the manager of the rear palace. I'd like to court you as a friend, someone you've spent time with absent of titles. I'm not your immediate superior, anyway - those directly above you can issue orders as they see fit, though you've never been the type to step out of line. And, we both know you have only a few months left on your contract. I'm hoping to pin you down before you leave the palace and another man gets to you first."

Now it's your turn to pout, your own lips pursed and eyes narrow as you stare at him. "You enjoy making things difficult," you start. “I can't believe you're doing all this to me. On top of that, you of all people know I do enjoy testing these metaphorical lines,” the last sentence punctuated with a huff.

It's true; that's how Jinshi grew to enjoy your presence. During his time knowing you, you had never been afraid to give back the same energy you received, playing along with Jinshi regardless of positions. However, you've always had a keen sense for what is or isn't allowed around whom - knowing to act like the perfect maidservant around the eunuchs directly responsible for your field of servitude, but understanding even without much prior knowledge that Jinshi is the type to let you get away with a little more.

"Then let's test this one. Let's see if we can push the 'metaphorical line' of our relationship, from professional to romantic," Jinshi's eyes glimmer with hope, a confident grin on his face at what he deemed a perfect segue.

After an annoyed grumble full of incoherent words under your breath, you turn to him with an exasperated sigh. "Fine. I'll allow you to court me - or continue to, rather - during these few months. And once I've fulfilled my contract and am able to return home, we can discuss the idea of potentially changing the status of our relationship."

As you spoke, Jinshi couldn't stop himself from bouncing ever so slightly up and down on his seat, excited beyond all measure. His hand reaches out to you and you flinch, pulling back before he can.

"And only then, Master Jinshi," you add.

He can't even find it in him to be sad, too excited that you've promised him a chance. “Yes, perfect, it’s a deal. Easiest deal I've made in my life. Could I get it in writing?" He begins to ramble on, allowing you to zone out and watch for a moment.

In an attempt to shut him up, you hold out your hand and place it over his mouth. Jinshi has never portrayed himself as someone who detests his own voice, but this was more than you'd ever heard from the man. With a gentle grip, he peels your hand from his mouth via your wrist, holding it tenderly for a moment before placing the tiniest kiss to the skin. Feeling flushed and mind short circuiting, you find yourself frozen in your seat once again. Did he just..?

The large wooden doors suddenly open, Gaoshun finally appearing. He's standing behind Suiren, the two both holding trays containing food. You can barely think, lips parting as you try to come up with a response. Right, you need to—

With Jinshi's hold on your hand, you can't quite hide your face with your sleeves as is custom, instead forced to sit awkwardly with your head bowed as he holds your palm near his face. Does this man know no shame? Your one sleeve is nervously covering the bottom half of your face, hoping for a shred of decency, while Jinshi casually chats with the two as though nothing had happened, is happening. Of course, Suiren and Gaoshun know better than to ask why.

Without a word from you, the two slip out of the office once again, leaving you alone with Jinshi. Your head finally lifts up, noticing the dish in front of the two of you as Jinshi gently drops your hand.

"Like it? Gaoshun had mentioned you'd been particularly happy when he dropped this off to you. I figured that must make it your favorite."

And he's right. You stare down at your favorite meal; The last time you'd gotten a taste was when Gaoshun had secretly passed you a few bites what was now a few weeks ago.

With a small smile, you turn to look at Jinshi. "It is. Thank you."

[blackdollette]

"on lockdown, like a penitentiary." | spencer reid

doin' time. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: a jarring case meant that spencer had 24-hour surveillance on you. to protect you, of course...

fill out the taglist form! : @thirtyratsinasuit @auggiethecreator @oliviah-25 @sleepysongbirdsings @pleasantwitchgarden @emma-e-a @bellasprettywords

⊹₊⋆ pairing: victim!female!reader x spencer

⊹₊⋆ word count: 989

⊹₊⋆ contents: spencer is reader's "private detective", reader teases spencer, potential for smut

your hand reached out to the door handle, the echo of the doorbell’s ring resounding as you opened the door.

“good afternoon, miss. i’m doctor spencer reid, i work with the FBI.”

spencer flipped open his badge, showing it to you for just a second before closing it up and tucking it in his pocket. you had known this man for less than 10 seconds, but you already knew that he had terrible timing.

his eyes flicked to you, only needing one look before his cheeks flushed beet-red. 

“o-oh. is… this a bad time..?”

you stood in the doorway wearing nothing but your bath towel, hair tied up in a scruffy bun at the top of your head. you bit back a laugh as you watched his professional facade melt into one of embarrassment.

“uh, do you wanna tell me what’s going on, ‘doctor’?”

he noticed the sight mockery in your voice as you addressed him, also taking note of the towel that seemed to be struggling to stay in place on your body. he cleared his throat, reajdusting his collar subconsciously.

“i work with the FBI,” he wanted to punch himself as soon as he realized he already said that, but he continued. “...and there have been a few recent crimes in your neighbourhood.”

your eyebrows inched up your forehead as he continued to speak.

“this unsub, or criminal, in particular seems to target women in their mid-20s who live alone. i don’t assume you’re in a relationship,” he paused, the crimson stains on his cheeks only getting deeper. “i-i mean… i-it’s not like you wouldn’t… i’m not saying that you don’t… i-it’s just that, y’know, i don’t wanna assume anything but…” 

he was already making a mess of the situation, only because he was in the presence of a young woman that just so happened to be exactly his type. 

he swallowed hard, his adam’s-apple bobbing as he recollected himself.

“i am going to be your private detective for the next 24-hours.”

you scoffed, raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms over your chest. “why? i’m perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

spencer nodded. “i’m sure you are, miss. but i’ll be in your corner, just in case.”

you sighed, opening the door fully to let him in.

“alright. come on in, doctor.”

he stepped into your home, giving you a little smile as you shut the door behind him. 

as the closed environment enrobed the two of you, reality began to rain on you. you gestured to your lack of proper attire, looking up at him with a smile.

“sorry about all this, by the way. i was just about to hop in the shower.” 

he nodded understandingly. “of course, no problem.”

you stroll over to the kitchen, taking his arm in your small hand and walking him into the kitchen. “can i get you anything? tea? coffee?”

you began rummaging through the cabinets, the towel slowly sliding down your chest as you lifted up your arms. spencer, being the observant genius that he was, found that the room seemed to be getting warmer by the second. it was unprofessional at best and completely inappropriate at worst, but he just couldn’t help it.

“n-no thank you.” he looks around the kitchen, desperate to let his eyes land on anything but you. “do you mind if i open a window? it’s… a little hot in here.”

he cringed at his own word choice.

you turned back to look at him. “is that safe? you know, with a crazy guy out to kill me and all.”

spencer ran a hand through his hair. “you don’t have to worry about that. under my watch, i promise that you’ll be alright.” 

an endearing smile lit up your face, making spencer’s thumping heart melt in his chest. you closed the cupboard, taking his arm in your hand once again. you didn’t know why, but you liked the feeling of having him in your grasp.

“come with me.” you began to lead him up your long flight of stairs, walking him into your bedroom and sitting him on your bed. to travelled over to your bedside table, starting to pick out a few bottles of bathing soap. for the first time, he was perplexed.

“u-uh… what are you doing..?”

you held multiple bottles under your arm, gesturing for him to follow you into the bathroom. “i’m gonna have my shower. i know i’ll feel so much safer with you around.”

his throat grew tight, nearly choking him. “oh. right. well, i can just wait for you out here.”

you rolled your eyes. “no, silly. what if something happens to me in there? you promised that you’d protect me.”

spencer was a squirming mess, his breath coming out in quiet gasps before he reluctantly agreed, following you into the bathroom. you shut the door, locking it behind you. 

he leaned against the sink, hands shoved in his pockets as he watched you intently. your placed the assortment of bottles onto the counter, reaching into your tall shower to turn on the water. spencer mentally cursed himself. why did the shower have to be made of glass? now he’d be able to see everything. and so would you.

hot water began to spill from the showerhead, your hand testing out the water until it reached the right temperature. you stepped inside, shutting the transparent door and finally slipping off the towel that had been begging for release.

spencer couldn’t bring himself to look. he was blushing like a school boy, beads of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. but to his luck, the clear glass began to fog up with steam, granting him a reprieve and deprivation.

he couldn’t help but trace his eyes over your body’s foggy silhouette, the steam in the room enrobing him in a warm blanket.

one thing was for sure: it was going to be a long day.

author's note: i REALLY wanted to make this smutty but I'm supposed to be studying for exams but i really wanted to get this fic out but like :((

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

PREVIEW TWO

ONE

The journey back to the Red Keep is silent. Aemond communicates only through impatient grunts whenever your hand slips from his waist or when a trot from his horse makes you sway closer to him. The truth is, you’re unsure how to hold onto his waist without practically merging with him. And he’s impatiently racing toward the castle. Your mind is restless. How are you supposed to claim a dragon for Prince Aemond? And what if you fail and end up dead?

"When we arrive at the Red Keep, follow me without further interaction. It’s crucial that your existence remains a secret. We’ll depart as soon as possible to find some use for you. However, your clothes, as well as your smell, betray your origins as a smallfolk. If I’m to endure this journey in your company, it’s better that you’re not reeking." Aemond’s first words directed at you cause discomfort. Not that being treated this way is new, but the discomfort comes from the reality that, once you head toward Dragonstone with Aemond.

"It seems that the mighty Prince Aemond is forgetting that the only safe way to reach Dragonstone without being recognized is by looking like someone like me. Without that fancy attire or that fresh scent, as if you’ve just bathed. Even your silky hair gives away your position. I know how to be invisible, my dear Prince; the question is whether you can be too." You speak, resisting a fleeting urge to lean against Prince Aemond’s back and rest your head on his shoulders.

"I don’t recall asking for your opinion on the matter. Allow me to offer you the opportunity to remain silent before I silence you for good." Prince Aemond could easily embody the arrogant prince. You glance over your shoulder and notice him slightly turning back, likely wanting to gauge your reaction to his threat. You stare at him without saying a word, and you can tell he’s proud of having silenced you.

A few moments later, you arrive at the Red Keep. In that first moment, you question how you’re supposed to dismount from the cursed horse. Aemond has no trouble at all, though he nearly knocks you off in the process of getting down himself. He then begins speaking with some of the King’s guards. Unsure of what to say, you remain silent, still on the horse. You think that if you were to risk a deadly escape, this would be the perfect moment—though lacking any real riding skills, you probably wouldn’t get far. Just then, something makes Prince Aemond notice your hesitation.

“Do you intend to stay on that horse all day? We have tasks to complete,” Prince Aemond snaps, his tone sharp and impatient—his usual demeanor. You look at him, embarrassed. Perhaps he expected a prostitute to know how to dismount a horse with ease. After all, riding cock it's part of what you do for a living.

"I do not intend to waste any more of your time, Your Highness. But I must point out that if I have no idea how to get on a horse, how am I supposed to get off?" You look at Prince Aemond with a certain boldness, wanting to laugh at the angry expression that hovers over his face. He says nothing, simply extends his hands toward you and immediately pulls you down, as if his impatience has reached its limit. His cold hands brush against your skin, indirectly touching your thigh as he yanks you off the horse. You let out a small groan, not as quiet as you would have liked but nothing too conspicuous. The feeling of his hands on you sends shivers down your spine. He however, slightly drops you on the floor as if you were an expendable utensil. You almost stagger but manage to balance yourself as you watch Prince Aemond turn away. You fix your ragged dress as he tries to compose himself, before following Aemond who is already entering the castle.

Aemond orders a few servants to assist you in bathing and changing out of your current attire. He instructs them to provide you with discreet clothing and a cloak. Then he turns to you and whispers near your face, "When you’re done bathing, come to my chambers." You’re not entirely sure why he wants this or if he realizes you have no idea where his chambers are. But you nod gently, confirming that you will go to him.

A servant leads you to a secluded area where there’s a communal bathing space, with other servants also bathing. The sensation of being seen by strangers while you’re naked is a familiar one. Murmurs fill the air, and everyone seems curious about you, though no one speaks to you directly. Not even the servant assisting you. You imagine they’re afraid of Aemond. After all, you are like them—a servant. Moments later, you find yourself dressed in different clothes, delicate and unlike anything you’re used to wearing. The servant finally speaks when she notices your confused gaze, searching for Prince Aemond’s chambers.

"Prince Aemond's chambers are just beyond that door. Knock before entering if you wish to remain alive." The servant speaks softly with unexpected delicacy. You look at her as if relieved to finally know where his chambers are. You want to thank her but imagine that she would rather pretend that this interaction between you two never happened. So you quickly head to Prince Aemond's chambers, silently and taken by nervousness. The servant's words are still clear in your mind as you knock on the door.

Despite knocking on the door, there was no response. You find yourself compelled to enter Aemond’s chambers without an invitation. You fear his anger for not following his order to come to him after bathing. You enter quietly, taking calm steps and making no noise. The first thing you notice is how spacious the room is and how warm it feels compared to the cold water you just bathed in. You immediately think that being a legitimate child of a King must have unimaginable advantages, and you wish you could one day enjoy such comfort for yourself.

"Since you so imprudently entered my chambers, perhaps you'd like to assist me…" Prince Aemond says, appearing suddenly in front of you, which startles you. But it’s not exactly his presence that frightens you. What frightens you is the fact that he is naked. Completely naked, just with his hair loose, even without the eyepatch. Immediately you turn around.

"Your Highness, what kind of assistance do you require from me?" You speak almost as clearly as you can. You have just seen Prince Aemond's cock. And despite your familiarity with cocks, you were not prepared. For a moment, you hope he doesn't misinterpret your reaction.

"I require your assistance to bathe. Do not let your imagination deceive you; I have no intention of having you as a woman in any situation, neither now nor in the future," he says, his tone dry, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. He truly seems to disdain you, yet he prefers your assistance over that of any other servant in the castle. You nod slightly, acknowledging that you understand he does not desire you, and then turn to approach the bathtub where Aemond has just entered. You need to crouch but manage to assist Prince Aemond as you take the sponge and begin to wash his body.

"Prince Aemond, do you really intend to leave your dragon here and come with me to claim another dragon?" you ask, trying to gently wash his body with the sponge while he seems lost in his own thoughts before your question interrupts him.

"Certainly, it is a risk. But leaving a prostitute I do not trust to seek out a precious asset like a dragon, whether alone or accompanied by one of the Kingsguard, seems foolish to me," Prince Aemond says, observing you with his remaining eye as you touch his back and neck with the sponge. The scent of flowers from the bathwater fills the air, creating a palpable tension between you and Aemond.

"If you do not trust anyone around you, your nights must be quite restless. I may not understand what it means to be a Prince, but it seems lonely not being able to count on someone to do what you expect of them. At least you seem to trust Vhagar, since you’re leaving her here," you say, turning to wash the front of Prince Aemond, positioning yourself face-to-face with him. He then grabs your wrist and pulls you closer to him. His remaining eye seems to bore into your soul as you face him, the scar over his other eye drawing even more attention. You don't understand the reason for his sudden proximity, though you can guess that you must have irritated him.

"Your curiosity about my feelings is an inconvenience. Whether my nights are restful or not is of no concern to you. Whether I trust or distrust those around me is irrelevant to you. The only matter you need to focus on at this moment is that you are to claim a dragon on behalf of the rightful King Aegon II. Now, you may leave my chambers. A servant will show you where you will be staying for the night. Tomorrow, we shall depart for Dragonstone," he says with a stern demeanor. You sense that you have touched upon something deeply personal. You set the sponge aside in the bath and, without further words, proceed to find your lodgings for the night.

The following morning, you are roused by a servant who informs you that Prince Aemond is awaiting your presence. Your body aches from having slept in a corner, far from the scrutiny of any significant figures in the castle, as per the Prince’s instructions to remain as inconspicuous as possible. You are provided with a piece of bread and a bit of water to refresh yourself, and then you are prepared for departure. A cloak is draped over you to aid in disguising your appearance.

You are then escorted to the castle’s exit, where you find Prince Aemond waiting with a stern expression. He is clad in a hooded cloak, his hair presumably secured out of sight, as no strands are visible. He briefly glance at you before looking away, as though there is something he wishes to convey but is unable to express, or perhaps it is merely an illusion of your mind.

"It appears you are appropriately attired for the occasion. However, there remains one item missing," Prince Aemond states as he assesses your appearance from head to toe. While you do not fully comprehend his intent, you infer that this might be his way of offering a compliment.

"Pray, Your Highness, what am I lacking?" you inquire, your tone tinged with irritation, which is understandable given the discomfort of your previous night’s rest. Prince Aemond responds with a faint smile and proceeds to grasp your hands, binding them together with a rope. The unexpected nature of this action leaves you momentarily stunned, and he appears to take a certain satisfaction in ensuring the rope is fastened securely, rendering escape impossible.

“Now, you are tied to me,” Prince Aemond declares as he secures the other end of the rope to his own waist. You cast him an angry look, fully aware that this must be an act of retaliation for the previous night. After a deep, frustrated sigh, you accept your predicament, realizing that this journey with Prince Aemond will test your limits in every conceivable way.

[jkslipppiercing]

Bumblebee 04 | jjk

• summary: Jeon Jungkook was your high school bully. What are you gonna do when your parents are forcing you to marry him as the country's most well-known CEO?

• pairing: ceo!jk x reader, high school bully!jk, dom!jk.

• genre: enemies to lovers, slowburn, high school bully to lover, arranged marriage, CEO/billionare romance, marriage of convenience.

• warnings: choking, humiliating (kinda idk), close proximity, cursing, miscommunication.

• WC: 2.1K aprox. (she's a little baby)

• taglist form

• index

• previous/next

A single tear runs down your cheek.

Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You've never cried over a guy. Is that going to change now?

Possibly.

Jungkook has already left for work at about 9:00, leaving you to your thoughts. He said you're due to show up at his office at 12:00, considering him being free for the day. He claims he needs to use his rare vacant hours to talk you over the basic dos and don’ts of working for him.

You agreed, acting like you've met him two days ago over a work interview.

“Y/N, I went to a gentlemen’s club yesterday.”

You run his words on repeat in your mind, like a jammed tape that's just running through your head. His voice refuses to back down, growing louder at your conscience. He's basically screaming the sentence at you now, overwhelming you.

“A strip club.”

Shit.

Another tear escapes.

In all honesty, you have no idea how to feel. One minute you’re fuming at how he didn’t care enough to show up to dinner yesterday, and the other you’re miserable; because you don’t want to be mad at him.

Every time your feelings are brought to the matter, you spiral. You truly don’t know how to feel. You want to understand him, but you’d be tossing your pride in the trash for you to forgive him for what he did. It was a mistake, you know how badly he knows he’s fucked up, but you still haven’t heard an apology. All it takes is one fucking apology, just good enough to show he cares.

You blocked your feelings out and wore a cold mask, in disguise of your true emotions. You expected him to be mad at that reaction, because you basically gave him nothing to work with, but he reciprocated it. He’s playing your game. Now, you’re going to play his.

You look at your reflection, wiping away at the stray tears of utter confusion. You plaster a satisfied smile as you appreciate the effort you put into the outfit you’re wearing.

You’re wearing a mini-dress.

In basic work attire ethics, wearing a mini-dress to work is inappropriate. It’s the epitome of unprofessionalism, and you’re wearing it purely to provoke Jungkook. He said you’re going to start working for him, but the poor man doesn’t know how you operate.

He’s giving you the secretary job only to show you who holds the true power, thinking it’s him who does.

He’s so gullible to think you can simply agree to work for him.

Soon, when you’re married to Mr. Jeon and you’re officially declared as his wife, you’re also officially a partner of the company. The company of which HG and Jeon Agencies will merge to form. So, in actuality, you're soon due to be working with him.

If you wore a mini dress to work as Jungkook’s future wife, who will dare to speak a word about it?

An off-shoulder, tight black mini dress- at that.

•••

You strut through the company like it’s your own, endless gaping faces staring your way.

Your head is held high, your hips swaying with every step in such an authoritative manner. It’s impressive- to say the least- the amount of confidence you’re radiating through every stride.

As you enter the elevator, you catch a rather cute employee- the quirky type with glasses- staring at youwith her jaw to the floor. You make sure to send her a rather flirty wink just before the elevator doors close and you’re taken up to Mr. Jeon’s office. You catch a glimpse of her swooning over the action with rosy cheeks, a victorious smile pulling the corners of your lips up.

A couple of minutes later, you’re in front of the secretary’s desk, Yoona staring up at you in bewilderment.

You smile at her half-heartedly, getting straight to the point; “Is Mr. Jeon alone in his office? Does he have anyone scheduled to meet him anytime soon?” Your voice drips in professionalism, cutting straight to the point.

Yoona takes quite a bit of time before she stutters a semi-coherent answer. “U-uh n-no. He’s alone.”

You nod your head in acknowledgement as your don’t waste your time any more, heading for Jungkook’s office door.

You don’t knock. Why would you?

Holy heavens.

Jungkook is leaning back on his desk as if awaiting your arrival. He has a glass of what seems to be whiskey in his hand. The tie around his neck loosened as his suit’s blazer was forgotten on the couch.

He has 2 leather chairs on either side in front of his desk and a wide couch in the center, in addition to an aesthetic coffee table; seemingly creating a lounge in the middle of his office.

He has a couple buttons of his shirt undone, as the sleeves of it are rolled up on his forearms. His hair tousled like he’d run his hand through it a million times, which he does before he smirks. He tucks one of his hands in his trousers’ pocket, using the second to bring the glass up to his lips. He smirks through it at you, all the while maintaining eye contact between you two. His watch glints in the sun, grabbing your attention.

You've always had a thing for men and watches, and goddamn is it a weakness.

The sun rays shine through the tall floor to ceiling glass windows, illuminating his figure and complimenting its height and the lean muscle that hides beneath the sheer material of the shirt.

The sight knocks the breath right out of your lungs and skyrockets your heartbeat to over one hundred and ten per minute.

Whoa.

His eyes rack over your body, starting from your toes and making their way up to your head. He takes his time taking you in, a glint of lust- maybe even hunger- swirling in his chocolate eyes. He takes another sip of whiskey.

“Mr. Jeon.”

“Mrs. Jeon.”

The name escapes his lips in an amused manner.

What?

Last time you checked, you were still Ms. Y/L/N.

“Excuse you?” You raise a brow as you approach him. You place your purse on the couch, joining his blazer as you strut towards him, your head held high.

“You better get used to being addressed by that, Y/N.” He stays leaned back on the desk, speaking as if he has not a care in the world. “You are my future wife, after all.” He smirks.

God damn that smirk of his.

Oh how much you want to kiss it off his face.

You continue your stride toward him, betraying no emotion when your face stays neutral.

You stop right in front of him, only to take the glass from between his fingers and cradle it in yours. “I can still say no, you know.”

You shrug casually, bringing the glass up to your lips to take a tantalizingly slow sip. You make sure to drink from the side he had drunk from, licking your lips after you let the sensation of the alcohol burn your throat.

His expression stays unreadable, so you make sure he understands what you mean: “To the marriage. I still have an option.”

As you go to set the glass back on the desk where he’s leaned on, you almost stumble causing him to hold you by your hips. You straighten, your nose touching his in the process.

He leans in further, his lips brushing against yours as he looks into your eyes. It feels like he’s staring deeper into your soul, and the thought scares you.

What if he finds things better left untouched?

What if he reads in between the lines of your emotions?

“What makes you think I’d let you?” He whispers to you, eliciting goosebumps on your skin. His hands are still glued to your waist the same way they always are, driving you absolutely mad in every way possible.

“This isn’t very professional now, is it, Mr. Jeon?” You place your hands on his chest as you push him away, solely to put distance between the both of you. A rosy blush kisses your cheeks as his hands find their home on your waist again, only for him to pull you closer.

His tone turns cold, speaking as if he hates the thoughts of you running through his head.

“You think you’re slick, huh?” He chuckles, but it comes out rather evil than lighthearted. You almost flinch.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing?” He stares deep into your eyes again, making your head swim. Your mind is too lost in his eyes to register the position you’re in. You don’t know what to do.

“Showing up to work in a mini-dress, Y/N?” His hand snakes up to rest on your jaw, but it’s a threat. It feels like a threat. You fail to move.

“That’s not very good now, is it?” He smiles, but it’s void of emotion. It’s scary. “Trying to provoke me?” His body is flush against yours now, with him no longer leaning against the desk, but handling your body in a way that makes it impossible for you to move; you don't even know if you want to. He’s taller than you- by far- his frame all too consuming the entirety of your thinking by towering over you.

His hand moves from your jaw to your neck, resting there. You struggle to appear unaffected, knowing very well how miserably you seem to be failing. The way he's looking at you almost seems like he's belittling you, making you doubt yourself every time you look at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You breathe out a response, surprising yourself. Why does he have such a great effect on you?

“Playing dumb now, are we?” He coos, mocking you in the way he smiles. His dimple laughs at you.

The hand on your neck flexes, barely cutting off your air suply.

You stay rooted to your spot. Your mind is going in so many different directions that it makes it harder to stay focused. Not that you are- by any means- focused. Your breaths are turning more shallow by the minute, but you love it.

You trust Jungkook, and he knows you do.

You'd trust him with your life, no matter how mad you are at him.

He's sure of it.

“Hm?” His tone grows irritated at your lack of response, so you simply shake your head no- as much as his grip allows you to- at least.

“I already taught you how to use your words, Y/N.” You can’t breathe. Your heart beats in your throat and you just can’t- breathe.

But still, you push through. “Why would I want to provoke you?” You ask instead.

“Don’t you feel betrayed?” Jungkook looks at you now. Fully looks at you. No playfulness, no amusement whatsoever. His hand falls from your neck, coming to rest at your waist.

The question catches you off guard. Where did this suddenly come from?

“Aren’t you hurt?” His eyes turn to ones so deep in feeling, it sets you off. Is he talking about the prior night?

“About?” You mask the emotions struggling to stay veiled by trying to sound as calm as possible.

Don’t show weakness. Your mind screams at you, a desperate attempt to keep you collected.

Of course you feel betrayed. Of course, you feel hurt. How dare he ask when it’s him that’s causing you to feel this way in the first place. All you crave in this particular moment is to unleash. Unleash the anger you’ve been trying so hard to bottle in. Although you crave that from deep within your bones, you stay cool- calm.

All the haze from the earlier teasing dissipates into thin air, and you take the time to properly look at the man before you.

Jungkook looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. He has dark purplish eye bags under his currently heavy lidded eyes; the most beautiful ones you’ve ever been graced to see. Even in the exhaustion clearly evident in them, his eyes hold infinite depths of beauty. They captivate your whole being, leaving you intoxicated by their effect.

“I’m tired, Y/N.” He looks like he’s seconds away from collapsing. He’s angry again, his face fully expressing anger and frustration. But you have the right to be angry, too. Doesn't he think so?

You don’t give a shit if it means you’re being petty. You deserve an apology.

Your eyes squint in defiance at him, and you see his muscles tense further as a response to the action.

“You humiliated me.” You scoff, staring at him in disbelief. “You think you deserve the right to be fucking angry, Mr. Jeon?” You jab a finger to his chest.

The formality aims straight for his heart, while the coldness laced in your velvety voice stabs at it further. He stays silent, looks at the floor as his hands fall from your waist, only to hang helplessly on either side of his body. He clenches them into fists, only to unclench them right after. He repeats the action, in hopes of focusing on it instead of you. He doesn’t want to talk about it. About this. He’s thought about it too much, where it’s gotten him to a dead end. He doesn’t know how to feel. He doesn’t understand what he feels towards you; it’s a feeling that catches him off-guard.

A feeling he isn’t familiar with. A feeling nobody taught him how to deal with.

You jab a finger to his chest again, “Pick me up at 9, we’re going to the club you suggested the other day.”

Your tone comes out void of emotion- another stab to the heart. His eyes don’t betray the floor he appears to be so fascinated in.

You step away from him, turning away. Just like that, you’ve left the office, leaving Jungkook to drown in the confusion that’s slowly eating away at his mind- little by little, piece by piece.

Little did you know, Jungkook was angry at himself.

next

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