#this is such a cool way to promote a fic

[slayerdurge]

Cyberpunk 2077 - Secure Your Soul on Netflix AO3

"Valerie 'V' Locke, Director of Counter Intelligence at all-powerful corporation Arasaka, must contended with sharing her brain with the digitized soul of dead rockerboy and anti-corpo terrorist Johnny Silverhand."

Netflix Template by @seungnm!

[patchdotexe]

forgot that i was up at 2 am reblogging crash fanart. believe me when i say the state of the tag is fucking Dire

[miedei]

for years or for hours

spending the night at spencer's apartment for the first time, and he's more than a little obsessed with you

a/n: my obsession w early seasons!spencer strikes again!!!! i saw an edit of train episode spencer when i was drunk the other day and wrote half of this. he fucks guysss i swear he fucks

cw: shy!reader, fem!reader, smut mdni, fingering, praise, spencer is confident like v v confident, handjob, unprotected piv

wc: 3.7k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Spencer’s quickly got you expecting contradictions. From the sight of him, lanky and awkward-seeming, you’d never expected anything of the sort that you’ve seen. 

When he asked you out, subtle and slightly cocky in his charm. When he’d swooped down to kiss your cheek when you’d met him at the restaurant. When he kissed you on the sidewalk, mouth warm and all-consuming. 

His apartment isn’t a surprise, thank goodness. You’re nervous enough as is, spending the evening at his for the first time. It might have done you in if it was too far off from your expectations. 

No, the cozy warmth of his domicile is just right for you, and you feel more than comfortable curling up on the sofa waiting for him to return from the kitchen. 

It’s another astonishment when he sits down next to you, smile soft as he pulls you into his side with an arm around your shoulder, cool as can be. You’re not complaining, of course. Not even as you duck your head to hide the flush that’s crept up on your cheeks.

You’d gotten used to it, you thought. To expect the incongruity between his outward-facing persona and his true actions. 

Apparently not, though. Not when you gasp when his index finger crooks under your chin, guiding your face up towards his. 

His eyes dance as he looks down at you, a level of devotion that you feel just as vividly, no matter how early it is to feel this way.

“I was wondering if you could tell me what you want tonight,” His voice is low, melodic as it floats into the limited space between the two of you, “so we both know what we’re prepared for.”

Your words get stuck behind your molars, only a squeak leaving your lips when his thumb swipes over the curve of your jaw. His resultant smile is indulgent, even as he prompts you again. 

“I really want to hear you say it for me, please.”

His cupid’s bow is really defined, you think stupidly. It’s so distinct and sharp, you can’t help but want to kiss it. But he won’t let up, you know that. 

It’s not that you don’t want to sleep with him. You’ve wanted to since you met him, and more every day that you got to know him. You spent nearly an hour in the shower before coming to his apartment just for that reason. But wanting it and saying out loud are two different things. 

Your voice is low when it finally comes, a whisper under your breath. 

“You know I want you, Spencer.”

His smile is tender, spreading wider across his face as he leans closer to you. 

“What is it you want?”

“Spence…”

“All you’ve got to do is explain to me. I just want to know what you’re okay with doing tonight,” He croons, as if he doesn’t know, the bastard. 

It takes a few more moments of silence, his thumb brushing over your skin steadily.

“I want to sleep with you.” 

There’s an agonizing beat of stillness, but he makes up for it swiftly when he descends on you. That cupid’s bow melds perfectly against you, the softness of his lips sending giddy sparks up to your brain. 

He’s muttering against your lips, but your brain’s too fuzzy to register more than a few words at a time, what with his fingers gripping your chin, and the other hand descending to your hip. Soft compliments and musings spill into your mouth, entreating you to come closer, kneeling on the sofa cushion just to be able to lean over him. 

He pulls back at your movements, letting out an amused chuckle. 

“You want to get closer?” 

He leans back against the couch, spreading his legs slightly, causing his slacks to tighten around his thighs in a way that has you salivating. His hands returning to your hips, he looks up at you with that smile that makes you shiver. 

“Come here, pretty girl.”

The nickname sends a shudder through you, but not even that could keep you back. 

Despite your flush, you let him guide you into his lap, your hands awkwardly hanging by your sides. 

His hands come up to brush against your knuckles, causing you to delight in the feeling of his calloused palm. He continues to move, skimming over your wrist, to your arm. The touch goes to your shoulder, the curve of your neck, and settles on your face, cupping your jaw in two impossibly large hands. 

Drawing you to him, your foreheads touch. A sigh leaves your lips, wanting desperately to feel him kiss you again. 

“Spencer…”

His mouth quirks up at one side, his left thumb rubbing circles into your cheek. 

“Don’t have to ask me for it. You can take whatever you want, I’ll go willingly. Okay?”

You don’t bother responding, the feeling of his hands on you overwhelming your senses until it’s all you can do to lean in, pressing your front to his. Kissing him again, you can’t help but push closer, your lips parting against his. 

Your mind floats away as he delves into your mouth, sounds muffled by his lips on yours. It could’ve been minutes, or hours, but you can’t bring yourself to wonder. Not when his lips are so soft, when you can slowly rock yourself on his lap.

Your movements force him to part from your lips, groaning. Slipping his hands down to your hips again, he urges you to rise off his lap, standing with you. Even as you both stand, his breath continues to mingle with yours, as if he can’t be enticed to part from you. He doesn’t even move to speak, his words tumbling straight into your mouth.

“Can’t— can’t do this here. My bedroom, okay?”

A whine leaves your mouth, but you nod desperately, letting him walk you backwards towards his bedroom. Despite your unwillingness to move your mouth from his, you can’t stop yourself from stepping back, gazing around his room with insatiable curiosity. 

It’s exactly what you’d expect from looking at him. Neat, but slightly unkempt, with lining every available shelf, and even some stacked in towers on the floor. 

As you turn around, eyes roving over every inch of the room, you jolt at the feeling of arms wrapping around you from behind. Warm breath hits your ear, causing you to shiver, then relax back into his chest.

“I’m glad you’re so interested in my home, but can I give you a tour later? There’s something else I’d much rather be doing with you right now.”

You let out a breathless giggle, nodding and turning in his arms, curving your own arms around his neck. A smile breaks out over his face, dipping down to press a slow, sipping kiss to your lips before directing you over to his bed. 

Falling on your back on his bed, you revel in the softness of his sheets. Stroking the duvet absentmindedly, the smell of Spencer is even more concentrated here. His characteristically complex scent surrounds you, notes of citrus, old paper, and something unmistakably him. 

It elicits another laugh from the back of your throat, causing him to look down at you with a quirked brow. He descends on you, crawling up the mattress until he’s hovering over you with an amused look on his face. 

“What’s so funny?”

Despite the giggles still bubbling up in your throat, the sight of him above you has them halting immediately. 

“Just excited, I guess. A little nervous.”

The dark pools of his eyes seem to deepen further, a swirling haze of browns that suck you in. 

“I’m excited too. And a bit nervous, I suppose. But, I’ve got to tell you, I’ve been wanting to have you here for a while, in my bed.”

And there he goes again, saying something that sends a shiver of desire and heat down your spine, forcing blood to rush to your cheeks. 

Without even trying to come up with a response, you lean up instead, capturing his lips with yours again. That works wonders in shutting his nerve-inducing declarations up, his hand coming down to grip your hip firmly. 

You both get lost in it, lips moving steadily against each other for an indeterminate amount of time. Your brain only returns to you when you feel his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your pants. 

He pulls away, looking in your eyes for any protest. Instead, you lean up for one more peck, before holding his wrist and encouraging him to descend further. He lets out a shuddering breath, his calloused fingertips tracing the skin right over your hipbone. 

“Can I take this off?”

His voice comes out in a murmur, only audible because there are scant centimetres between your faces. Desperate, you nod quickly, mumbling your assent.

“Yeah, Spence, I want it off.”

He smiles, kissing you one last time before clambering off you, kneeling between your legs. He helps you eagerly, his fingers fumbling with pulling your pants off you. The moment you’re rid of the article of clothing, he wastes no time in climbing over you again, his hand returning immediately to your hip. 

He seems to be focusing solely on touching you, his eyes angled down at where his hand touches your skin. Suddenly you wish you’d bothered to wear nicer underwear, anything better than the slightly ratty pair of red panties that surely don’t match your bra, but he doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest.

Brushing his fingers over the front of your panties, he lets out a groan, dropping his forehead to your collarbone. Slowly, slowly, he dips down further, tracing over the small wet patch that’s been forming since he kissed you the first time tonight. You can feel his lips curve into a smile against your skin at this discovery, and you can’t help but beat him to the punch.

“Don’t laugh, Spencer, please?”

“Why would I tease you? You’re all ready for me, I’m so glad.”

His words are placating, but you can hear the satisfaction in his tone. 

His fingers haven’t ceased their movements, tracing slow circles over the gusset of your panties as you squirm under him. 

He lets you whine a little longer, before retracting his hand, chuckling at the resultant yelp of protest. 

“You’re all wet for me?”

You nod frantically, lifting your hips in an effort to tempt him into ridding you of your panties. 

“Yeah, Spence…”

He nods in satisfaction, finally giving in and dragging the fabric down your legs. Once he’s set them aside carefully, he drags his palm up and down your inner thigh, kneading at the plush flesh there. Slowly moving higher, higher, he makes you wait until his knuckles brush against the bump of your pussy, making both of you suck in sharp breaths. 

His eyes flick up to you, fingers gliding up and down over the seam of you, watching your face contort with the too-little pleasure. After watching you for a beat longer, he swipes up your slick with one lithe finger, positioning it at your entrance. 

Pressing his forehead against you, he hums softly, kissing the apples of your cheeks as he slowly presses his middle finger into you. The feeling is overwhelming, the slight stretch of his finger causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest into his. 

He grins, swallowing your moans with a crushing kiss. Slowly speeding up his movements, he brings his thumb up to cover your clit, swiping slow circles over the sensitive spot. 

Finally, he interrupts the silence, words tumbling out of his mouth as if he’d been holding them back with great difficulty. 

“So tight, angel. Does that feel good?”

You can only moan in answer, struggling to keep your eyes open as he slides in another finger. 

“That’s it, there you go. Can’t wait to see you when you cum, you going to cum for me?”

His hair has fallen over his forehead, looking down at you with his pupils dilated. 

Speeding up his ministrations on your clit, he makes you squirm again, watching with delight as you grind your hips down against his hand. The slow-building tension within you rises, each movement of his fingers and your hips bringing you closer and closer, until you have to grip his wrist in both of your hands, throwing your head back. 

He leans down, mouthing at the now-exposed column of your throat, his words vibrating against your skin. 

“Come on, angel, want to see you fall apart, you can do it. Wanted to see you like this for so long, so pretty and pliant for me. You’re going to let me keep touching you, huh? As long as I want? So that I— oh, good girl!— so— so that I can see you fall apart for me?”

He’s so preoccupied with rambling that even you reaching your climax in the middle of his sentence doesn’t stop him, but his hands show you all the appreciation you need. Along with his fervent praise, his right hand continues to thrust within you, allowing you to ride out your high. His left hand has snaked up your shirt, thumb swiping at the skin right below the underwire of your bra. 

It’s only once you whine in overstimulation, pushing his hand away from your cunt, that he pulls away, although he never stops his caresses to your torso. Leaning in to dot kisses on your lips, he continues to mumble.

“Did so good for me, angel, thank you. Did that feel good?”

Chest heaving with the aftershocks, you gaze up at him with stars in your eyes, nodding.

“Felt really good, Spencer. I didn’t— didn’t expect…”

You trail off, unsure of how to explain why you’re so overwhelmed, but he understands, moving off of you to lay on his back next to you.

“I know. I don’t exactly think I was expecting for this to happen tonight either… But it was okay?”

You can’t help but grin at the contrast between his previous confidence and the hesitance he exhibits now. Shifting to lay half on top of him, you prop your chin up on his chest.

“It was more than okay, Spence,”

Without thinking about it, your hand drifts to his lower stomach, trailing down his clothed skin to the waistband of his own pants.

“Do you want to… keep going?”

Your voice comes out soft, still a little flustered by your own forwardness, but you still stare up at him, hoping he’ll say yes. 

At the feeling of your fingers stroking his waistband, he throws his head back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. You can’t stop yourself from laughing, shaking your head at him. 

After a moment, he looks back down, his hand coming down to rest on your back. His breathing is slightly shaky, but his voice remains solid.

“If you want to, sweetheart. Okay?”

Another wave of infatuation rocks through your body, smiling up at him once more. Moving your hand away from his pants, you drag your palm up his torso.

“Can we take this off, please?”

His smile gains a wicked tinge to it, his hand moving in circles against your back.

“Only if you do too.”

You assent readily, kneeling on the mattress in order to pull off your shirt and bra eagerly, leaving you completely bare. Although you’d normally be embarrassed, you don’t seem to find a moment to be shy, not when he’s shirtless on the bed in front of you. 

Spencer smiles up at you, the smile he uses when he knows he’s got someone cornered in an argument, the one he uses when he’s sure he’ll be able to beat you in chess. 

“Come here, sweetheart.”

He reaches out to hold you by the waist, dragging you over to lay at his side again. His arm holding you to him, he grabs your hand, laying it on the warm skin of his chest.

“You can touch me angel, go ahead.”

Biting your lip, you slowly move your fingers over his skin, leaning forward to press a tentative kiss to his chest. He squeezes your waist affectionately, sucking in a harsh breath when your hand trails down to his waistband again. 

Slipping your hand under his pants and underwear, you brush your fingertips against the heated skin of his cock, gasping just as he does. Looking up to him, you see him squeeze his eyes shut. 

Your confidence grows, dipping even lower in order to wrap your fingers loosely around his shaft. A breathy moan leaves him, sending shivers down your spine. 

An experimental tug gets him throwing his head back in pleasure, groans tumbling from his lips.

All of a sudden you can’t take the barrier between you, pulling your hand out of his pants and tugging his pants and boxers down clumsily. He laughs a little, helping you out with a shaky hand until he can kick the fabric off his ankles. 

Before you can second-guess yourself, you reach out again, wrapping your fingers around his cock again. Slowly moving your hand up and down, you watch him begin to pant softly. Only once you’ve gotten into a rhythm do you allow yourself to look down, the sight causing you to clench your thighs together. 

It’s like the rest of him, long and surprisingly thick, with a curve to it that has your cunt feeling more empty than ever. You can’t help but squirm, pressing your front further into his side. 

Even with your efforts to stay composed, nothing gets past Spencer. In between grunts and breathy moans, he still manages to tease you slightly.

“What do you think, angel? Want to keep going like this, or do you want me to make us both feel good?”

His words have you shifting against him, wetness pooling within you again.

At your nod, he slowly peels your hand away from his cock, pressing at your shoulder to lay you back against the bed again.

With a breath stuck in your throat, you watch as he kneels between your parted legs, hand stroking at your hip. With his other hand holding the base of his cock, he leans forward, swiping his head through the accumulated slick pooling at your entrance. 

Both of you hiss at the sensation, your hand coming up to cup his cheek. 

With his eyes locked onto yours, he slowly pushes forward, letting you feel the stretch. Kissing your palm, he watches you intently, ready to stop at any hint of discomfort. However, although it’s a bit of a struggle, the pain-mixed-pleasure quickly becomes overwhelming bliss. 

He continues to push in until his pelvis is flush with yours, falling forward with a hand on the sheets next to you. Leaning in to place a crushing kiss on your lips, he murmurs against you as he begins to rock his hips.

“Pretty— pretty girl, you feel so good. So good for me, sweetheart, so tight,”

He pants into your mouth, thrusting slow and deep. Every time he presses into your fluttering cunt, his pelvis grinding against your swollen clit, neither of you can keep quiet. 

He can’t help but speed up, gripping one of your thighs and hiking it up around his waist, allowing him to sink that much deeper. You’re captivated, both by the sensations of him, and the sight of him. His lips are parted, eyes dark and lidded as he gazes down at you, face overcome with both affection and lust. 

It’s not long until you start feeling it again, that unknowable, intangible pleasure that goes straight to your head, legs beginning to tremble. Trying to warn him, you raise a hand to grip at his shoulder, nails digging into the skin there. 

“Spencer… Feels so good, think m’gonna—”

Your mouth tips open on a soundless moan, back arching off his duvet.

“I know, angel. Getting close again?”

One of his hands snakes down between your bodies, tracing maddening circles over your clit. The stimulation is just enough, just what you need to get you there, feeling the pleasure shoot through your veins. 

It takes one, two, three more movements of his hips, and you fall apart, a low, keening moan ripping itself from your throat. Spencer hums, muttering praises down at you until you tip over into overstimulation.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Fuck— so tight, you feel so good. You’re going to make me cum, sweetheart, can I— can I, on your stomach?”

His hand comes up to knead at the softness of your stomach, staring into your eyes. 

At your gasped-out yes, he pulls out of you with a groan, tugging at his cock a few more times until he cums with a low groan, marking your skin with his release. Once he’s just as spent as you are, he collapses at your side, arm sliding under your shoulders to pull you closer, as if he’s loathed to be parted from you. 

The room is silent for a few minutes, the soft sounds of the city punctuated by the heavy breathing coming from both of you. 

Only once your breathing evens out, he leans over, dotting kisses in your hairline.

“Felt so good, angel. How are you feeling?”

You smile hazily, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Really good. A bit… sticky.”

Both of you become increasingly aware of the cooling mix of fluids on your bodies. With a chuckle, he sits up, rubbing his thumb over your shoulder. 

“I’ll draw us a bath, how does that sound?”

A rush of warmth goes through your body, and you follow his movements, sitting next to him and capturing his lips with yours again. 

“I really like you, Spencer Reid.”

He doesn’t reply, not in words. But the swirling emotions in his eyes, and the all-consuming kiss he gives you are more than enough answers.

[p1astr81]

what are we? - mv33

in which: Max gets romantically involved with Red Bull’s new hire, changing his life for better and worse.

pairing: Max Verstappen x co-worker!reader

warnings: smut 18+, Christian Horner, cursing, time jumps, angst, not proof read, a little longer

wc: 6.9k

an: ib this fic

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧ * ‧₊˚ ‧

The conversation came in late September. The air outside his Monaco apartment was cool. It drifted in gusts through the open window. His grip around your waist tightened when a particularly cold breeze creeped it’s way over his naked figure. His limbs, intertwined with yours, sought the warmth radiating off your skin. Legs mindlessly brushed against yours.

“If you’re cold, you could always put your clothes back on.” He chuckled lowly at your suggestion. The sound traveled smooth and slow through the air, like molasses. A verbal response never graced your ears. He settled for a small shake of his head, his face hid in the curve of your neck.

The scene, while grossly domestic, had your stomach curling into knots of guilt and despair. A feeling of inevitable calamity. The exact timing of it, you were uncertain. But it was sure to come, if not now then soon. Tomorrow morning, maybe. You knew putting it off would make it harder. Executing it was just as difficult, though.

It’s why you were both devastated and relieved when Max’s voice filled the air with the question. It forced you to have the conversation here and now.

“What are we?”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The first day on a job was never easy, especially when you’d been promoted from a simple marketing position at a small company to the manager of the marketing department at Red Bull Racing.

It was mid-January. Freezing cold outside. Your breath converted to a visible fog while you entered your new place of work.

The tour of the building was being given to you by a secretary. He was quiet. Only spoke when he needed to or to answer a question of yours. He led you to an empty office, nothing in the room except for a desk and a chair. Your first and last name engraved on a plaque glued to the door. Your fingertips ran over the lettering, feeling the ridges. Head of Media and Marketing engraved right above your name.

The secretary informed you that someone would be with you shortly, his voice mere mutters. You thanked him and he was on his way.

The room was spacious enough. Plenty to not feel claustrophobic but not enough to not feel vast. A small couch could be a nice edition. Floor to ceiling windows allowed for natural sunlight to illuminate the area. The view was okay. The street and parking lot to the left and a small patch of grass—currently coated by a thin layer of snow—right ahead of you.

A question of your name was called from behind you. You turned with a smile. “Yes, hello.”

Christian Horner. The team principal at Red Bull Racing. Of course, you’d heard what he’d done, read the leaked messages. You nearly didn’t take the job because of it. But it was your dream job, formula one. So a few morals had to be broken.

He smiled. “Good to finally meet you face to face.” He held his hand out to you. You shook it to be polite. “Christian Horner, team principal.” He formally introduced himself.

You remained polite as you followed him through the halls once more. His footsteps stopped outside another office space. A laugh was muffled through the wall. A man’s laugh.

Christian opened the door, allowing you to walk in first. Upon entering, the two boys in the room stopped their conversation, eyes boring into you. You knew who they both were. Liam Lawson and Max Verstappen.

Liam stood first, teeth shining as he smiled. He held a hand out to you and introduced himself. Polite. Max stood, but hovered behind Liam. He studied your form, your face, the way you nervously fiddled with the ends of your hair and tucked a strand behind your ear.

Only when your conversation with Liam ran dry did Max step in to introduce himself.

“Will you be traveling with us to races, then?” His voice was level, unreadable. His gaze jumping between Christian and yourself. Christian answered for you. “No. She won’t be needed. Most of her work will be done here.”

Max’s brow twitched, a faint line appearing between his two brows for less than a second. “Shame.” Was all he said, eyes drifting from your own to analyze the other details of your face. You tried your best to ignore it.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The following weeks consisted of introduction and the drafting of ideas. Your colleagues would filter in and out of your office, presenting vague ideas and handing you long winded proposals. Working in formula one was not nearly as thrilling as you expected it to be.

Your routine shifted one day. Your fingers were dashing across the keyboard, responding to an email sent from another in the marketing department. The door had opened, but assuming it was one of your colleagues you didn’t acknowledge them right away. You were too focused on finishing the email to even realize your visiter had made himself comfy on the small sofa.

Only after you hit send did you look up, slightly-irritated smile embellished on your lips. “Hi, sorry I was-“ the face registered in your mind, though it made the synapses in your brain backfire momentarily, your speech inhibited. Your expression bordered on confusion. When your brain finally caught up, the words that came out of your mouth were, “do you need something?”

You cringed when your own voice hit your ears, your tone suggesting he was bothering you. You fell into quick apologies. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean it like that just… I didn’t know if you came in here for something from me or… yeah.”

There it was again. The anxious action of playing with your hair. His own face shifted. Amusement. He shook his head. “Just came to ask you how you’re settling in.”

The nod that came to you was like a foreign action. Delayed and not quite a smooth gesture. The prospect of Max Verstappen coming to casually check in on you was a little inconceivable, so forgive you if your motions weren’t quite fluid. “Yeah.” You blinked, then realizing that wasn’t really an adequate response, you continued, “It’s nice. People are nice.” You nodded. You found it difficult to keep your eyes on his. Perhaps it was the intensity of it. The way it felt like he was trying to dissect your every thought.

Max hummed. “Well if that changes…” the rest of his sentence hung in the air, but you could finish it yourself.

You nodded again, swallowing the lump of nerves in your throat. “Okay.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Max continued to pop in your office every now and then, at least once a week. You’d gotten more and more comfortable with each encounter. Conversation flowed easily now.

It was the end of February, the beginning of the season drawing close. Papers collected in a small stack on your deck, ones you had to look over before the media team left in two weeks.

“Come in,” you responded to the knock on your door, focus still on the paper in front of you. The paper was torn from your desk, your focus traveling with it. Your eyes caught Max’s blue ones and you scoffed. “Max! I need to finish that,” you complained loudly, reaching for the paper but Max pulled away.

You stood, rounding the desk. Max put his hand out to stop you while he read from the proposal. “…to improve engagement—hey!—and increase—im helping here!” Max laughed, arm extended with the paper out of your reach. “That’s not funny, I need to have that read and responded to by the end of the day!”

Your sides were flush against each other, your hand inching its way up his arm. Subconsciously, he pressed a hand to the small of your back to stabilize you while you stood on your tip toes. Max chuckled. “They’re all the same anyway. Boring for you to read and torture for me to do.”

Your eyes fell from the paper to meet his own. You became aware of the proximity then. Far too close for a couple of colleagues. You stepped back, cleared your throat. Max silently held the paper out to you. Graceful fingers pulled it from his hold.

As you sat back at your desk, Max remained standing in front of it. “I don’t think it’s fair.” He commented out of the blue. Your eyes found his once more, brows knit together. “What’s not fair?”

“Well, you do all of this for the team, and you don’t ever get to see the track.”

Your expression loosened, a breath falling past your lips, sounding like a laugh. “‘Cause my job is here.” You shook your head, finding his judgement a little silly.

A raised brow of his. “So you don’t want to go to the races?”

You dropped your pen, leaning back in your chair. “It sounds fun and all, but that’s not where I’m needed.”

“But if you had the choice, would you want to go to the races?”

You didn’t even need to think about it. “Yes.”

The next morning, as you set foot inside your office your whole body froze. On your desk sat a jar of chocolates. Passed for the weekend in Australia hung from the shoulders of the jar. You analyzed them, just to make sure they were real.

“Of course.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Max won that first race in Australia. A hard fought victory against Charles Leclerc. After the race you settled in the hospitality. People were packing up around you but you were stationary, answering emails upon emails.

You jumped when your shoulders were squeezed from behind. The sight of Max had you relaxing on instinct. He maneuvered his way around the table, taking the chair across from where you sat. “You should go out with me tonight.” He proposed.

Brows shot up, you choked on air. “Sorry, what?” Your laughter was out of control. Continuous breathy, nervous chuckles.

Max seemed to have caught his mistake, laughing to himself. “I meant— I’m going out to celebrate with some of the team. You should come with.”

“Oh, oh yeah.” You laughed. “Maybe not, though. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on, yknow?”

All it took was one little teasing “come on,” and a dazzling smile to convince you.

Party was certainly Maxs thing. One too many gin and tonics and he was drunk out of his mind. He clutched onto your shoulder, yelled something close to your ear. “That’s great, Max!” You responded, a tap of your hand to his chest, though the topic of conversation was completely lost on you.

“Great?! No ‘thank you, Max! You’ve got a beautiful face too!’? Wow ego much!” Drunk max was a hassle, and drove you to drink with every teenage-girl-esc sentence that spilled from his drunk, scrambled mind. “Sorry, didn’t quite hear you! I’m gonna get a drink!” Max wiggled his brows, remembering how you swore you wouldn’t drink tonight. “Looks like someone’s going back on her word!” He laughed. You shook your head, turning your back on him to make your way to the bar. Max clutched desperately onto your arm.

In hindsight, drinking wasn’t your smartest idea. Because one drink led to two, and two led to even more.

The very next morning you woke up with a raging headache. The curtains of the hotel room weren’t pulled closed. The morning light invaded the room, and you pulled a pillow over your head to block the rays that desperately tried to bypass your thin eyelids.

The smell of the pillow filled your nose. But it wasn’t your own perfume, or the fresh scent of a five star hotel. It was cologne. Still smelling fresh. But undoubtedly cologne. The scent strangely familiar, but you couldn’t place it.

Your heart raced. You could feel as the thrumming of it pulsated up to the surface of your skin. The headache was fought off as you opened you opened your eyes, slowly and anxiously.

Eyes meeting the figure, a small gasp left your lips. You’d never identified a person so quickly in your life.

You began to panic when you spotted your shirt from last night, thrown messily over the back of a chair. A quiet chant of no, no, no fell from your lips as you scanned the room with a frantic, unfocused gaze. And the shirt you wore wasn’t yours. Red Bull branded. But not yours. “Fuck” you whispered, tears springing to your waterline.

Careful not to wake Max, you slid from between the sheets, gathering your clothes from around the room. While you slid your pants on, Max stirred. One leg in and one leg out, you froze in place. Thankfully, he went back to sleep, his breath returning in a shallow, even rate. You placed Max’s—now neatly folded—shirt of the television stand.

On the tips of your toes and as quietly as you could, you slipped into the hallway. You could only hope that his memory was lacking as much as your own.

Once back in the security of your own room, you fell onto the bed, closing your eyes with a sigh.

The next time your eyes opened was because of a harsh series of knocks on the door. The sun was brighter now. You’d fallen asleep again.

Tired legs carried you to the door, which once opened, had you frozen in place.

A claw clip was held out to you. “I think you forgot this.” Max grinned, letting himself into the room.

“That’s not mine.” You dismissed, though it was definitely yours. Max chuckled. “You left.” He stated the obvious, eyes drilling into yours. You leaned against the door. He stood across the room.

Your head shook. A mindless movement. “I didn’t think you’d remember either.” You muttered, facing your crossed feet below you. He blinked. Brows furrowing just slightly, complementing his small frown. “Are you saying you don’t remember anything?”

You stood up straighter, back still supported by the door. “Well… bits and pieces.” Your voice was small and you forced yourself to face him. His mouth fell open, gasping out a breath, his hand falling over his face.

Seeing his reaction, you quickly tried to ease him. “I’m not going to tell HR if that’s what your worried about.”

Max froze. “You think I’m worried about HR? No I’m worried about you.” He took a few steps in your direction before stopping himself.

Your eyes widened. Shock. You laughed. “Why would you be worried about me?” You were nervous now. Max seemed to be more confused than ever. “You… because we had sex, and you don’t remember it.” He started to pace. “I though you weren’t that drunk. You swore you weren’t that drunk. I’m an idiot, obviously you were that drunk.” He rambled to himself, feet pacing back and forth along the length of the hotel room.

“Max,” you called. He froze, face meeting yours. Concern etched on every feature. “Did I consent?” He blinked before nodding. “Then it’s fine. You have nothing to worry about” You shook your head

He became confused. “Nothing to- I practically took advantage of you, and you’re saying that’s ‘fine’?”

“Yes because I trust you and I know you and I know that’s not you.” You sighed. “It’s like you want me to be mad at you.”

Max turned away from you, silent. He ventured over to the open window, a distant view of the ocean. Perhaps he did want you to be mad at him. Perhaps then the inner turmoil would be easier to face. Perhaps then he wouldn’t feel so conflicted about you.

“I just think you should value yourself more.”

You looked up from your hands, gaze only finding his backside. “What, you think I don’t value myself just because I won’t be mad at you? We made a stupid mistake, that’s all.” You bit back.

A brow of his lifted, body halfway turned to face you. “No, that’s not what I meant.” He chuckled nervously.

The nod that followed was subconscious as you stared down at your hands once more. “You should go. I need to pack.”

He called your name, a tone that suggested protest. A look from you silently told him off, and he left without another word.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

The following week you were back in your office. Max was meant to be away at a race. He placed second in China. You didn’t care. Sure it was a tiny spat, but it was easier to ignore him than face the repercussions of what you’d done. Max hadn’t reached out since that morning. So neither had you.

The day had droned on. Another Monday spent sitting in your office for hours on end. The tenth knock of the day interrupted your flow of work. “Come in,” you muttered, head rested in the palm of your hand while you read over your presentation for the thousandth time.

You hit the arrow button once again when a cough took you from your focus. You glanced up at the person, body straightening when you saw his blue eyes.

“Is there something I can help you with?” You remained polite and professional. You mentally questioned why he was not still in China, or why he was here at all. He wasn’t needed at the factory today. The question never surfaced, though.

Max let out a small sigh, standing across the room. “Look, I’m sorry.” He started sincerely.

“It’s alright.” You brushed it off, turning your attention back the the screen and hoping he’d fuck off.

“No, it’s not. I don’t think you deserve to just be a hit and run.”

“It doesn’t matter. I hardly remember it.” Your eyes refused to meet his.

“That’s exactly my point.”

You sighed deeply. “And what do you want to do about it? It’s in the past.”

The room was silent for a minute. Max thought it over, his proposal on the tip of his tongue, but he struggled to find the courage to say it. You studied him, eyes narrowed, trying to pick his brain apart.

“What about a date?” He managed to ask.

And you laughed at him. Right to his face. “You’ve lost your mind, Verstappen.”

“That’s not a no.” He grinned.

You huffed. “That is a no.” You shook your head, your words holding some finality to them. You returned to your work, thinking he’d leave after that.

But Max Verstappen is nothing if not persistent. “Why no?”

You looked up once more. The third time during this conversation. “Because it’s an HR nightmare. The second anyone gets wind that I went on a date with you, I’m fired. And I just got this job so I’d really like to keep it.” The eye roll that followed was a natural instinct.

“Then no one has to know.” He negotiated quickly.

“Why are you so persistent about this? I told you it wasn’t a big deal.”

Max swayed on his feet. He didn’t have an answer for that. At least, not one that he was willing to share with you.

“I’ll make a reservation at that stake house, cove’s, for 7. You can choose to show up or not.”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

It may have bothered you a little. Knowing that Max may have been sitting at the restaurant all by himself. The clock reads ten past the nineteenth hour. You’d been staring at the blank wall for fifteen minutes.

The two halves of your brain were at odds. Arguing for and against joining Max at the restaurant.

He’s all alone.

That’s his own fault.

Yeah but he might be upset.

His emotions aren’t my problem.

But it’s a nice restaurant, and he’s paying. A good meal won’t hurt.

You groaned, throwing the blanket from off your lap and making your way over to the closet. You picked a simple dress. Nothing too showy or extravagant. Attention wasn’t what you desired.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you grumbled, looking yourself over in the mirror. The small imperfections were screaming at you, a small frown adorning your lips. You closed your eyes. A deep breath and a sigh. A shake of your head. “It’s not even a real date.”

You got there forty-five minutes late. Max could be clearly seen from across the restaurant. A glass of water sat in front of him, only half full. Fingers tapped the glass in a rhythmic manner, intense eye contact with the contained liquid.

It’s not too late to turn around, you told yourself. And you actually considered it. But the thought of getting ready just to turn back outweighed any other thoughts.

When you approached the table, Max glanced at you, an uninterested look. Then as if the image registered late in his mind, he stood. The chair was pulled out for you before you had the chance to do it yourself. “I didn’t think you’d come.” He spoke in a hushed voice, almost like he was embarrassed by the fact.

“I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

And that’s how it started.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

April passed quickly. Max tried taking you out on regular dates, though you argued. “It would be too suspicious. Everyone knows you like in Monaco.” He worked his way around your fears. He drove your car, which was not nearly as flashy. He covered his face as best he could to blend into the background. He stopped trying to convince you to go with him to races with his guest passes. “People will catch on, Max. Your fans are smart.”

So Max convinced Horner that you would be much more of use at the weekends. “It’s a much quicker flow of information, and she can be there to make changes on the spot. It only makes sense!” And somehow, Horner listened.

The first race of May, in Miami, you were there. Not just as a guest of Max Verstappen, but as a critical part of the team.

You never found out it was Max’s doing. He let you believe the promotion was for your hard work. You deserved that.

The Red Bull car, adorned with a big red number 1 on the wing of the car, was out in front. It would be his first win since the season opener if he could hold onto the lead. You were stressed, fingers twisting up in the ends of your hair. The strands moved like liquid between the gaps of your fingers.

Later that night, you happened to end up in a club, Max’s hands glued to your hips while you twirled around on the dance floor. “You won again!” You shouted over the music, arms tightening around his neck. “I think you’re my good luck charm!” He grinned. You shook your head, laughing. A sound he wished he could keep on file in his brain so he could listen to it on a bad day. “No, I think you’re just that amazing!”

“Fuck, you’re so amazing.” Max groaned, his entire cock sheathed inside of you. Of course you found yourselves back in his hotel room, making a mess of the sheets.

“Ah, Max,” You whined. His thrusts perfectly measured, hitting the deepest parts inside of you. “Faster, oh please Max, faster!” Words were a struggle to get past your panting. Your nails dug into his bare shoulders. He hissed, but the pain quickly morphed with the pleasure and spurred him on.

His teeth scraped along the curve of your neck as he sucked marks into the skin, trying to quiet his noises. “So good. Fuck,” he mumbled against your skin, a hand guiding your thighs to wrap around his waist. The noises you released at the feeling of the new, deeper angle had Max thrusting his hips into yours harder than before. Thank god the headboard was bolted to the wall. Any consideration for the next door neighbor—probably a team member—flew out the window.

“Fuck! Fuck, I’m so close!” Your hips started meeting his, searching for a release. “Please,” the word fell from your lips on instinct.

“So good. So perfect. So perfect for me.” Max continued to mutter praises, his hot breath fanning over the marks he’d just made. His hand ventured down your body to land harsh circles on your clit. “Come on, come for me.”

A high pitch moan added to the sinful noises already infiltrating the room, your back arched up from the bed, pushing your body into Max’s. “That’s it, come on.” He encouraged.

You came with his name on your lips, repeated over and over again like it was the only word you knew. “Fuck,” he grunted, you squeezing him, pulling him right to the edge. “Inside me, fuck, I’m on the pill.” That’s all it took for him to be spilling everything he had inside of you.

You whimpered when he pulled out, still sensitive. He apologized. Noting your closed eyes and your blissed out state, he carried you off to the bathroom and sat you down on the toilet.

“You know, I’m noticing a trend here.” You joked after you’d recovered, back in the bed and lying against his chest. Your fingers idly played with his, fingertips running along his knuckles. Max frowned, though you couldn’t see it. “This is more than just physical for me. I really do like you.” His lips met the top of your head. It brought a small smile to your lips. “I know,”

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Things were going well for you and Max. You kept it on the low. No one in HR had caught on. Of course, the fans speculated, but they had no real proof.

It was the end of June now. All day, Max had been praying to anyone who would listen, begging for a good result. It was Austria. Red Bull’s home race. He couldn’t let the team down.

Prior to the race, you stood in his driver’s room with him. He was all suited up already, you were only there to wish him luck.

Your hands ran down the front of his suit, palms settling on his stomach. “Have I ever told you that you look so good in this suit?”

Max chuckled, the sound a low rumble. “Only about every time I wear it.” His eyes, reflecting such deep admiration, worked their way over your own figure. The tips of his fingers dug into your hips, bottom lip scraping between his teeth while he drew you impossibly close. “And speaking of outfits, you look like a dream.”

You scoffed a laugh. “Really? In my business casual?”

He looked at you like you were crazy for second guessing him. “Oh, Absolutely.” He grinned, his hands coming up to move the hair from your face.

Just as his lips were about to collect yours, a knock interrupted the moment. Max jumped back, creating space on instinct. He looked at you with wide eyes, but you held up a single finger, your mind working fast to make up an excuse.

“Max? Can I come in?” His trainer spoke through the door.

You scrambled through your camera roll. You were sure there was some stupid media video you could use and pretend you were searching for his approval.

“Yeah come in,” Max answered, just as you were shoving your phone in his face. The video was just a stupid tiktok, one saved for future reference.

“So what do you think?” You asked as Rupert stepped into the room. The trainer looked surprised to see you, gaze flitting between the two of you. “Oh, hey. Wasn’t expecting you in here.”

“Last minute media duties. You know how it is.” You laughed innocently, causing Max to have to bite back a smirk. Rupert didn’t know how it was, but he nodded anyway, laughing with you.

“I wouldn’t mind it. Definitely better than some of the other ideas.” Max finally answered your question, a bit of a bite to his response. “Great, I’ll run it by the media team.”

Later that night, after the race—which Max wanted to forget all about, having gotten a puncture due to debris—you recalled the interaction. “You were jealous!” You insisted, laughing while he shook his head adamantly. “You didn’t see how he looked at you!” He insisted.

“Oh come on, that’s in your head.”

“Is it really? Because I’m almost certain he watched your ass as you left.”

You smiled, leaning into him. “You’re quite cute when you’re possessive.” Max cocked his head, trying to figure out if it was a compliment or an insult. “Thank you?” He said hesitantly.

“You’re welcome” you hummed, pecking his lips.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Summer break. It was much needed for the both of you. Somehow, you managed to take two weeks off of work. The time was spent with Max, somewhere remote and private where eyes wouldn’t be able to pry.

The air smelled of salt water, the strands of your hair soaked in the same water. The white boat floated not far from you, Max standing on the end of it, hands rested on his hips. He observed you with a fond gaze while you swam around, head dipped under the water and a snorkel peaking up out of the water.

You resurfaced, eyes alight with excitement. You pushed the goggles to your hairline. It made your hair look like a mess, but Max found it cute. You waved him over. “Come join me!” And then noticing his hesitation you added, “there’s so many fish! And some are so pretty!”

A smile creeped up on him seeing your enthusiasm. He grabbed his own snorkel from the cushioned seats and joined you. Who was he do deny your request when you were so animated about it?

You’d already ducked back under the water, too impatient to wait for him to join you. He understood your enthusiasm quickly. While it was no coral reef beneath you, fish still swam by, scampering along when one of you made the slightest movement.

A punch was landed on Max’s arm, your movements languid due to the water. He followed your pointed finger to find a turtle at the end of it.

His eyes found yours, crinkled in the corners from how hard you were smiling.

The same smile found it’s way back on your face hours later back on the boat. Max lounged against the cushioned seats, your body right next to his, upper body rested against his.

“I told him, I said, ‘Max is not going to like that idea, you won’t get the result you think you will’ and he replied with, ‘well then maybe max shouldn’t be such a baby about everything.’” You laughed, shaking your head as you recited a conversation from a meeting last week.

Max scoffed, feigning offense. “A baby? I’m not a baby about media duties!” He defended himself.

“Oh you absolutely are. You’re a pain to do media with, to everyone except for me. But it’s okay ‘cause I still love you.” You turned your head to face him, leaning up to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. But a sour taste infected your mouth as your brain caught up with the words your lips had just spewed.

The contact was broken abruptly by you, sitting up and staring at him with wide eyes. Max just looked at you, his own gaze flicking between focusing on each of your eyes, one at a time. His brows were raised in interest, mouth slightly parted.

You found it difficult to meet his eyes, so you focused on the blue-green color of the ocean, watching as the waves folded over one another. “I don’t know where that came from.” You shook your head, voice small. “Just-“

“From your heart, I hope.” Max joked. You turned to him, seeing a cheesy grin on his face to match the equally cheesy comment.

A small yelp slipped past your lips when Max pulled you down again, his face inches from yours. “I love you, too.” He whispered against your lips.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

You’d truly never been happier. It was like you were living in heaven on earth. The smile on your face was permanent, just like how Max was permanently on your mind.

It was early August, the air warm but not hot enough to be unbearable. Your vacation just ended. Despite the fact it was an early Monday morning, you were smiling to yourself while entering the factory.

The first person you saw upon entering was Christian himself, standing in the foyer, leaning against the receptionist desk. “Morning, Horner.” You greeted, walking past him.

“Ah, just a second.” He halted your movements, voice sounding stern. Your heart rate spiked. “Come to my office with me.” It wasn’t a suggestion. You had no choice.

“Have a seat.” He instructed, an outstretched hand. You swallowed hard, trying to level your breathing. Your smile was harder to maintain now.

He sat across from you, at his desk, and pulled out a laptop. “How was your break?” He made small talk, but there was too much tension in the air for you to be comfortable. Your gut told you something was wrong.

“Great, thanks.” 

“And you traveled with Max, correct?”

Your heart stopped, breathing halted. His gaze was on yours. A borderline glare. You blinked. Lying was an option that turned over in your mind, but it was evident he already knew. It would put you deeper in shit.

“Yes.”

Christian smiled wickedly. “So you will be honest with me, then.” He said to himself. “And am I correct in saying that there’s something more than professional business going on between the two of you?”

It was easy to predict what would happen next. The very thing you feared prior to diving into this with Max. But he insisted everything would be fine. It was stupid to believe him.

“Yes.”

Christian nodded slowly. “I’ve worked out an agreement with Mercedes and Toto. At the end of the season, you’ll transfer to Mercedes as their head of Media and Marketing. That is, only if you put an end to whatever is going on between you and my driver. If not, then I’ll make sure you never get another job in formula one.” His voice was eerily calm, but the demanding undertones of it was what really put you off.

You nodded, a silent agreement to his terms. He waved his hand. “You may leave now.”

The door was as far as you got before he called your name. “And a bit of advice,” he started, a nasty grin on his face. “Don’t sleep with Wolff’s drivers, too.”

He thought he was being funny. A blatantly misogynistic comment, and he thought it was funny. You desperately wanted to chuck something at his head, but that surely would ruin your career. So you nodded once again.

You made quick work of getting to your office, hardly breathing to contain the tears. It felt like you were suffocating. The world was crashing down around you. You’d just achieved everything you wanted in life, and now it was being pulled out from underneath you like some tablecloth magic trick gone wrong.

Once in your office, you sat at your desk. Palms flat on the table while you took deep breaths. Trying to ground yourself wasn’t working. So you let it flow. You locked the door and cried into your hands. Your palms collected the droplets into salty little puddles.

And then there was Max. God, how were you going to tell Max? It would break his heart, maybe even more than it’s breaking yours.

₊ ‧ *‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

You pondered for weeks how to go about telling him. No way seemed good enough. No way seemed gentle enough. So you resorted to slowly pulling yourself away from from. The thought process was that perhaps you could ease him into your leave. That way, it wouldn’t be nearly as painful.

The constant distancing didn’t go unnoticed by Max. He questioned you about it multiple times, but you brushed it off every time. In the past weeks, you’d declined every date. You only talked to him when necessary. And even answered his messages with short responses.

Which is why he felt the need to drag you back to Monaco with him after Baku. You stayed in his flat for the week, so you couldn’t escape him even if you wanted to.

The very last night in Monaco, you allowed Max to have his way with you. Any position he liked, however he liked. You knew you’d end it the following morning. If anything, it was a farewell gift and he didn’t even know it.

The conversation came sooner than expected. His question had your heart jump to your throat.

“What are we?”

He wanted a label. Confirmation. You knew that. But you couldn’t give it to him, only to tear it from his grasp in a few hours time. That would be ten times more painful than what you answered with.

“We aren’t anything.”

Max sat up quickly, your head falling to the pillows. He scanned your face for any sign that would tell him you were joking.

But your face was cold, stoic. He became angry, face twisted in rage as he stood from the bed. “You don’t mean that.” While his face may have reflected anger, his voice broke like a small child’s.

Max thought you had something special going on. Something more than just a fling. But with the confirmation of your words, it seemed it was only that. A fling.

You felt vulnerable under his burning gaze, but you remained expressionless. “You don’t-“ he choked on his words. “you don’t tell someone you love them and then…” he shook his head. He couldn’t understand. “Tell me you don’t mean that.” He demanded, feeling totally defenseless, small, pathetic.

You blinked, finally an emotion coming to the surface of your face. Total despair. “I can’t.” Your voice broke, your head shaking on impulse. Tears began to bloom in your eyes.

Max turned his back on you, his shoulders heaving from the deep breaths he was taking. “You said you love me.” His voice was a near whisper, back still facing you. “Did you lie?”

You’d never stood faster, and you were in front of him in seconds. He stared ahead refusing to meet your eyes. You could see the collection of tears on his waterline. It broke your heart to know you were doing this to him.

Two hands reached out to him. He took a step back, avoiding your touch. “Max I swear to you, I do love you.”

Confusion and hurt filled his eyes when they met yours. “Then why are you doing this?”

“I-“ you stumbled over your words, struggling for an explanation. His brows furrowed. “You don’t even know, do you?” His tone was accusing, creating more distance between the both of you.

You turned the accusation down quickly with a shake of your head. “No. I just- promise me you won’t let it affect your work relations.” Red Bull was his home. You weren’t sure if you would be able to sleep at night if Max hated them after you explained everything to him.

His confusion didn’t lift. “What do they have to do with this?” Max hated feeling like he was in the dark, and right now, the world around him felt pitch black.

“Just promise me.” You begged him.

He nodded. “Okay.”

“I don’t know how, but Christian found out. He told me if I didn’t end things that he would make sure I never got another job working in F1.” You breathed a shaky breath. “I promise you Max, I do love you. So much. And you mean so much to me.” You sniffled. “But I just can’t give up my dream job.”

Max blinked, his expression softening. He understood you completely. If the roles were reversed, he suspected he would’ve done the same thing. Now the only thing that could be read on his face was great sorrow.

He sat on the end of the bed, the influx of information causing his legs to feel week. “How long ago was that?”

“Beginning of August.” You confessed.

“Christ.” His voice was a whisper, head in his hands. He put the pieces together on his own. It was the sole explanation for your distance, he concluded. “I don’t think I can function knowing you’re going to be there every weekend.”

The spot on the bed beside him was no longer available, having been occupied by you. When you put a comforting hand on his arm, didn’t move away this time. “Well, I’m moving to Mercedes next year.”

He looked up, mouth parted. “That’s… good- yeah I’m really happy for you.” He congratulated, and he meant it.

You laid your head on his shoulder. “Let’s just enjoy the time we have left, yeah?” You suggested.

A warm sensation bloomed across Max’s shoulder. Your tears, he quickly realized. He let his own flow free now, and agreed with you, whispering out a, “yeah.”

[charmedimsure]

could you do a jun ho fic where the f!reader is a new officer and he's training her. she is fully convinced that he hates her (maybe she isn't the best at her job) but at the end of the week he asks her out and she's so shocked. turns out he was dropping hints the whole time and she's an idiot

A TOUGH CASE TO CRACK || hwang jun-ho

pairing: Hwang Jun-ho x f!reader

summary: No matter what you do, you just cannot get on Jun-ho's good side. Normally you'd brush it off, if he wasn't the man who decides whether you get promoted to detective or not.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: police work, murder case, guns

A/N: i love this request sm omg. everything i know about detective work is from brooklyn 99 so i doubt it's very accurate. if you find any mistakes no you didn't <3

When you found out that the detective training you was none other than Hwang Jun-ho, you were ecstatic. You've worked with him a few times before, doing general beat cop tasks for his cases and seeing him around the precinct.

Not only is he an extremely respected detective, he's also really cute. You hate to be the girl at work who's fawning over one of the boys, but come on. You have eyes.

Now though, as you're sitting in the squad car together staking out a suspect for one of his cases, you're starting to wish you had gotten assigned to anyone else.

You've spent nearly two hours together and you can count the number of words he's said to you on one hand. He's barely even looked at you. It's not like you were friends before, but you've worked together since you got transferred to the precinct a few months ago. And now this man will be the deciding factor in whether you get the detective promotion or go back to being a beat cop.

About a week later, Jun-ho approaches you. "We've been assigned a case. Small, straightforward, perfect for training. Get ready, we're gonna head over to the scene. I'll give you a run down on the way over."

You nod, a smile on your face. It may be small, but it's your first case as a detective and you're excited to prove yourself. This may be your first case, but it will not be your last.

"Cool. Let me grab my stuff, I'll meet you at the car in a few minutes."

Jun-ho gives you a curt nod and turns, walking back to his desk to get his things.

You let out a sigh. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to describe a case as 'cool'.

<>

You grimace at the gruesome sight in front of you. A man's body lays on the ground, blood splattered all around the room. A gun lies in his hand.

"First impression," Jun-ho says, taking out his notepad, "suicide."

You take a step closer, wanting to get a better look at the scene. As you try to take another step, a hand grabs your arm, yanking you back.

"Watch where you're stepping!" Jun-ho's voice booms at you. You look down to notice that you had, in fact, been very close to stepping directly in the victim's blood, which would have messed up the evidence badly.

You look down at your boots, embarrassed that you almost made such a rookie mistake. "Sorry, I'll be more careful." You step closer to the body, but his hand is still keeping you in your place. You huff. "I'm not going to step in the blood, you can let go."

He looks down at his hand and quickly releases your arm, allowing you to approach the scene, this time being extra cautious to make sure you don't disturb anything. You crouch down by the man's head, examining the wound.

Jun-ho gives you a questioning look. "What's wrong?"

You shake your head. "Something just feels off to me."

He continues jotting down notes. "Take a look around the place. I'm gonna talk to the wife. Please be careful not to touch anything. Wear gloves if you have to."

You sigh as he walks away. You had wanted to do this together, to learn how an investigation is done as a detective. He probably thinks you're incompetent now. Looks like you're gonna be working separately.

You take a quick scan over the interior of the room, trying to find little clues that may give you a hint as to what happened here. The house looks normal enough (save for the dead man on the floor, of course). Looking towards the windows, you notice that they are all locked, except for one. It could be nothing, but you write it down in your own notebook anyway, not wanting to overlook anything. You'll be damned if you make another mistake.

Jun-ho walks away from the victim's wife, who is crying outside the home.

"Hey, I might have found something," you jog up to him. "All of the windows are locked except one. Seems a little off to me."

Jun-ho sighs. "I don't think that's something to focus on until we get more evidence." He puts his notepad back in his pocket. "Come on, we gotta go back to the precinct."

You feel yourself deflate at his comment, slowly following him to the car.

<>

You march into your chief's office, hands on your hips. "Chief, I'd like to put in a request for a different trainer."

The man looks up at you from the plate of food on his desk. "Why?"

"Because I know that Detective Hwang is going to give me a bad review," you huff. "If I had done badly, I'd accept it, but I can't help it that he doesn't like me."

He gives you a questioning look. "Why do you say that?"

"I don't think he's said one nice thing to me," you rant. "He doesn't talk to me unless he absolutely has to, he barely even acknowledges that I'm there! The only time he talks to me is to criticize me. He doesn't even work with me on our case!" You stop, catching your breath from you long tirade. "You could have assigned anyone to train me, why did you have to choose him?"

The chief cocks an eyebrow at you. "When he found out you were applying to become a detective, Detective Hwang personally requested to train you."

You look at your chief as if he has three heads. "What?"

He picks up a piece of chicken from his plate, bringing it to his mouth. "He said he saw potential in you, wanted to work with you." He looks up at you again. "He hasn't said anything bad about you or your performance. He's actually said you're doing very well."

Your head feels crazy as you try to process this information. The detective training you, the one that hates you, doesn't actually hate you. He asked to train you and praises you to the chief.

"But why would he do that? He acts like he can't stand me."

The chief shrugs. "You're training to be a detective. Solve the case."

You deadpan at him as a smirk grows on his face. "You're so proud of yourself for that one, aren't you?"

"Absolutely I am. Now, get back to your case." He points at the door with his chopsticks. You can't help but let out a small laugh as you walk back to the bullpen.

<>

The next day, you're sitting at Jun-ho's desk, looking through the files on your victim. A crumb from the sandwich you're eating falls onto one of the photos of the crime scene and you quickly flick it away.

"What are you looking at?"

You jump a bit in your seat. Jun-ho is standing over you, looking at the files in your hands. You put your hand on your chest, steadying your breath.

"Holy shit, you scared the crap out of me."

He gives you a barely there smile. "Sorry." You watch his eyes move to the sandwich in your hand and any trace of the smile he once worse disappears.

You sigh. "I know I'm not supposed to be eating on the job, but I was so hungry that I couldn't focus." You put the remainder of the sandwich on the napkin. "And in my defense, it worked. I think I found something," you say, moving over so he can get a better look. You look up at him. "Do you want your chair?"

"No, it's fine," he says, leaning over you to inspect the files. You can feel the heat radiating off of him, making you stiffen.

"Take a look at this," you point to a description of the victim to Jun-ho. "He was left-handed." You then pick up a picture of the body, handing it to him. "Look where the gun is."

He takes the picture, his eyes widening when he realizes it. "It's in his right hand." He puts the photo down, looking down at you. "You said one of the windows was unlocked, right?"

You nod.

Jun-ho grabs his jacket off the back of the chair you're sitting in. "Go get your jacket. We gotta go back to the house."

<>

You slam the door to the squad car, rushing behind Jun-ho as he moves toward the house. "Which window was unlocked?"

"The middle one on the side."

You run to the side of the house, stopping a few feet away from the window. "This one here."

Jun-ho crouches down. The window is over a small flowerbed, the area covered in mulch that couldn't have been laid down more than a week ago.

You hear Jun-ho gasp. "Here! A footprint!"

You come closer, crouching near him. Sure enough, the print of a large shoe is visible in the mulch, leading away from the window.

"You were right," the man next to you says. "This is a murder."

<>

You stand by the coffee machine, brewing a cup for the woman waiting by Jun-ho's desk. He had reached out to the victim's widow, hoping to get some information that could lead to her husband's killer.

You see Jun-ho leaving the Chief's office and call him over. "Do you want to handle the questions?"

"No, I think we should do it together," he says. "I want your opinion, too."

You try to fight the smile growing on your face, nodding. Jun-ho leads you to his desk, pulling up a chair for you to sit in. You place the cup in front of the woman, as well as a tiny bowl with creamers and sugar.

"Thank you for coming in, ma'am," Jun-ho says.

"Is everything alright?" she asks.

"We just want to ask you a few questions," he says. "We've been going over your husband's case and we have reason to believe that this was a murder staged to look like a suicide."

The woman gasps, bringing a hand up to her mouth as her eyes water. "I knew it," he softly cries, "I knew my Jin-young wouldn't have killed himself. We don't even own a gun, and he was such a happy man."

You shift forward in your seat, grabbing the box of tissues from beside Jun-ho's computer and placing them in front of her. She nods a thank you as she takes one. "Ma'am, is there anyone who you think could have done this? Had anything happened recently?"

She takes a moment to think. "I know he was having arguments with a man he worked with, I don't know his name though."

"Do you know what they argued about?"

"One of them was going to be promoted," she explains. "The promotion would give a significant pay raise. The other man had been there for longer, but Jin-young was likely to get it. He was a very likable man, a very good worker, so nice to everyone. The other man though that he deserved it more."

You write down the details in your notebook. Jun-ho leans forward. "Thank you, ma'am. We'll be in contact."

<>

You walk into the building, looking for the suspect. You had done some research and found that the man you're looking for is Kun Yong-ja, a man with a history of assault.

"Ready?" Jun-ho asks you. You nod, and he knocks on the door of the apartment.

The door opens, revealing your suspect. "Can I help you?"

"Hello, sir. We're with the police. We were hoping we could ask you a few questions," Jun-ho says.

The man's face falters for a moment. "About what?"

You pick up a photo of the victim, turning it to show him. "We're aware that you worked with Mun Jin-young. He was found dead in his home a few days ago."

Yong-ja looks between the two of you before slamming the door shut.

"Shit," you say, taking your gun out of its holster.

Jun-ho kicks in the door, taking his gun out as well. You follow him into the apartment. You run to the back, finding a window open by the fire escape.

"I'll follow him down this way, you go around, try to cut him off," Jun-ho tells you.

You nod, rushing out the door and down the stairs. Leaving the building and turning into the alley beside it, you see the back of Yong-ja, who is currently pointing a gun at your partner. As Jun-ho tries to talk him down, you sneak up behind him. With all your strength, you hit his head with the butt of your gun, knocking him unconscious.

"Thank you," Jun-ho says. He takes the handcuffs off his belt, securing them around Yong-ja's wrists.

As the beat cops bring him to the station, you and Jun-ho check his apartment. Sure enough, you find mulch-covered boots that perfectly fit the prints left in the victim's yard, as well as a small book with information on the victim, including his home address.

<>

"Hey."

You turn, seeing Jun-ho walking up to you. You give him a tight-lipped smile. "Hi."

"The chief asked me to give this to you," he smiles as he hands you a small leather booklet.

You take it and open it, gasping when you see what's inside. The right side is blank, but the left holds a badge, the words "National Police Agency" engraved on it.

"Holy shit," you say, a big smile on your face. "I got it! I'm a detective!" You're so happy that you throw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in an unexpected hug. You feel him tense and pull back. "Sorry, I'm just really happy."

"It's fine," he chuckles. "Actually, this is something that I wanted to talk to you about."

Great, here we go. He's going to tell you how you need to be more professional, that you can't make mistakes while in the field.

"Now that I'm not your superior anymore," he smiles, leaning closer to you, "I was wondering if you want to get dinner with me this weekend?"

Wait, what?

You stare at him for a good ten seconds, mind processing the words that just came out of his mouth. You open your mouth and close it a few times before you're finally able to come up with some words. "Like, as in a date?"

"Yeah, a date. If that's alright."

You continue to stare at him, absolutely baffled.

He starts to shrink, his face dropping. "Please don't feel like you have to. It's okay if you don't want to, I won't hold it against you."

"No!" you blurt out. "I mean, yes, I would love to get dinner with you." You smile at him. "Sorry, I just honestly was not expecting that at all."

"Really?" he asks, brows furrowed. "I feel like I've been kind of obvious about it. I mean, I could barely look at you at first because you made me so nervous. One day I finally got the courage to ask you to lunch, but you were already eating and that plan went out the window."

It finally clicks in your brain. Everything you had assumed he'd done because he hated you, not talking to you and giving you looks when you ate at his desk, it was because he liked you.

"But I made mistakes," you say. "I almost stepped in the victim's blood."

Jun-ho chuckles. "My first case, I put filed a knife under the wrong case, would've blown the entire thing if someone hadn't noticed. I got a good yelling at, and now I always make sure I file evidence correctly. I can guarantee you will always be careful around crime scenes, now."

He's right. After that, you had been much more careful. "Damn," you say, "I really got this wrong."

"Yeah, maybe I shouldn't have recommended you for detective," he teases.

You lightly slap his arm. "No take backs!" You gasp. "Wait, is that why you requested to train me?"

Jun-ho blushes, looking to the floor and kicking his shoes. "The Chief told you about that, did he?" He looks up. "And I'm guessing that you asked for a different trainer because you thought I didn't like you?"

"Man, the Chief really can't keep his mouth shut, huh?" you chuckle.

"Not at all," Jun-ho says. "So, I'll pick you up Saturday night?"

You nod, smiling. "It's a date."

Squid Game Tags: @thebiggestigurosimp @vvnbxz @lov3yy @miltzzy @l5byrinth @come-as-you-are-111 @starkeyszn @learninglinesintherainn @galactict3a

Lmk if you want to be added to the taglist :)

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

Exhausted, Papyrus fell on his knees in the dust. It was covering everything in the room, from the floor to the ceiling. The main door was gone, like most of the windows. Thankfully, no monster tried to enter the balcony, too high. Papyrus crawled to pick up the door, still in one piece by some miracle, and put it in its place. The hinges were gone with a part of the wall, but he forced it to hold by nailing it with some planks that held the windows closed and was now on the floor.

He picked up his phone, hidden deep in his armor. His hands were still shaking with the adrenaline. Sans left about twenty messages, asking if he was fine, then warning him Frisk was gone, then asking him again if he was alright, more and more distressed as the hours went by.

Papyrus simply sent: "Alive. Frisk here." before walking to the kitchen to make sure the child was fine. Several bullets ricocheted against the closet door, but it faced the brunt efficiently. He cleared the chairs out of the way and opened the door, maybe too brutally.

Frisk screamed out of terror and threw themselves in the back of the cabinet. They curled up on themselves, hands on the head, sobbing uncontrollably. They were shaking as well.

Papyrus flinched. He saw himself at five years old, in the same position, as Sans was screaming and fighting for their lives in the living room. This was not a world to grow up. No child should ever be born in this hellish place. Bitter, he felt his soul squeezed painfully. It was his fault. He should have brought the child back to the Ruins. Frisk shouldn't have assisted to any of this.

The skeleton kneeled at their level. He never had been really talented to comfort people.

"Frisk? It's over, they're gone. You can come out."

He leaned a hand towards the human. Frisk kicked it away and tried to get as far as they could from him in the closet. Papyrus tried to stay neutral, but his face betrayed for a few seconds how much it hurt him. He didn't want Frisk to be scared of him. Not after everything they went through to protect them.

The skeleton looked around for a second and noticed a hole in the closet door. Small, but enough for a child to witness everything that happened outside. Frisk saw him slaughter attackers and end monsters on the floor without mercy. Papyrus felt guilty. He gave the child some space and sat in front of the closet, unsure what to do.

No Weakness, Chapter 3.

_______________________________________

Hello, hello!

I commissioned this masterpiece to @seirindono, a French (yeah, team French!) illustrator who works on a multi AU universe called The Missing Scarf, which is a banger. Really cool comic with lots of great characters that you really want to read. Go read it!

I wasn't sure on which fic I wanted a drawing at first, but since we already got one for Horrortale: Rotten Apple (thanks again Zeragii, love you), why not No Weakness?

It's a post-pacific Underfell fic where instead of breaking the Barrier, Sans refused Frisk to fight Asgore and brought them back in safety to Toriel. Now Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton, Toriel and Sans are hiding the child away, trying not to get killed.

The story however is about Undyne and Papyrus' friendship. After Papyrus surprises Undyne kissing Asgore, he is promoted to general of the Royal Guard. Except Papyrus knows something is really wrong here, since that role was obviously supposed to Undyne's. But the more he tries to understand, the more people try to dissuade him from learning more. All the hints lead to Asgore, but how to reach the monarch without getting himself killed, and by extension, those he cares the most about? Between his duty and his friendship, Papyrus will have to make a choice.

I asked for one of my favorite parts ever, which is the moment Frisk realizes how things really work in Underfell, after witnessing Papyrus committing carnage right after he got promoted to General. It's tradition :D

Anyway, if you want to read the story, it's right here. I'm on summer break right now, but new chapters are coming soon!

Thanks again to Seirindono for their amazing work, I love it so much <3 Really great artist, don't hesitate to commission them! They're really nice and pays great attention to details. It was really cool collaborating with you <3

Go send them some love!

[callmeagardengnome]

❤︎ office affairs ❤︎ | SONG MINGI

pairings ࿔ mingi x fem! reader

genre ࿔ office au, non-idol au, romance, SLOWW BURNNN

synopsis ࿔ working for a job promotion is the smart thing to do, but working to make song mingi fall in love with you is way more fun.

w.c ࿔ 8.1k

c.w ࿔ suggestive but no smut, mingi likes thighs woops, mutual pining (?) reader watches anime, reader also wears pencil skirts a lot of the time, this is an IT company, light swearing, alcohol, kiss scene

author’s note: this took way too long to finish but im glad its done! also rmbr to like and repost!

not proofread!

other fics

the moment your eyes found song mingi, you knew that he was the one.

okay, ‘the one’ might be extreme, but he definitely caught your attention on your first day.

you applied to ‘ATECH’ after graduating from college, hoping to land a job in one of the top IT companies in the city. you’ve spent an embarrassing amount of time learning how to code and develop software, so imagine the joy you felt when the job offer finally appeared in your inbox.

“over there are the bathrooms,” your boss, hongjoong, said as he pointed to a set of doors at the end of the room. “and this is where you’ll be working,” he patted the desk.

“thank you,” you smiled, letting out a quiet groan as you set down the heavy box in your arms.

you looked around. the office was pretty normal, each section had desks right next to each other with the company-issued computer sitting on each one.

you turned back to your desk, your eyes landing on who your deskmate would be - and you swear that your breath was taken away within a second.

he was the definition of your type: neat, built, handsome.

not to mention the way his glasses sat on his face or the button-up shirt he wore that had his sleeves rolled up slightly, exposing his defined forearms. he looked good. impossibly good.

“mingi will be showing you the ropes of the company,” hongjoong began, giving mingi a sharp glare when he was about to protest. “don’t hesitate to ask him for help.”

you nodded. “got it,” you replied, settling into the swivel chair at your desk.

as hongjoong walked away, you heard mingi mumbling something under his breath, but it was too soft for you to catch. he quickly returned back to his work, typing on his keyboard at speeds you didn’t know were possible.

“hey,“ you spoke up, sitting up straighter. “i was wondering if you could help me with-“

“-ask him,” mingi muttered, barely looking away from his computer screen as he pointed lazily to a guy at the next table.

you blinked. “but hongjoong told me to ask you?”

mingi sighed, finally stopping his typing to face you. “i don’t know why he did that. i’m not anyone special, i’ve just been working here for a while.”

mingi then pushed himself back slightly so that you could see who he was pointing to. “wooyoung’s the manager, you should be asking him on how things work.”

“oh.. okay,” you replied slowly. “mingi-“

“-mr song,” he corrected, cutting your sentence short again.

you raised an eyebrow, looking down at the polished nameplate on his desk that read out, ‘SONG MINGI’.

“right.. mr song,” you nodded slowly. “i guess i’ll just do that.”

you ignored the weird exchange and began to unpack your things. after sorting out everything, you decided to find this ‘wooyoung’ guy mingi was talking about earlier - it was actually easier than you thought since he was talking pretty loudly with the person next to him.

you took a deep breath as you walked over to his section, feeling your palms sweat as you wiped them on your pencil skirt. “hey uh..” you trailed off as wooyoung’s eyes widened.

“you’re the new hire?” wooyoung blurted out in surprise as he looked you up and down.

he then blinked and shook his head. “wait shit- that sounded bad.”

wooyoung turned his chair around to face you, waving his hands defensively. “sorry, we don’t normally get girls here- you know, it’s IT. not that it’s never happened but they’re usually.. a lot older.”

“cool..” you chuckled awkwardly, offering a polite smile as you were unsure of how to respond. “well, mr song said that i should ask you for help.”

wooyoung’s eyes widened even more than before. “mr song?” he said a little too loudly, making a few people glance in your direction - though wooyoung didn’t seem care. “did hongjoong tell you to call him that?”

you shook your head. “no? he corrected me when i called him by his name.”

“oh…

my…

god.”

wooyoung busted out laughing. “i’ve never heard anyone call him mr song- even jongho doesn’t! and he just started working here last month!”

“wait really? then why-?”

“-it’s definitely a kink thing,” wooyoung muttered to the guy next to him, who you now noticed was watching the whole interaction.

“what was that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“nothing, nothing,” wooyoung waved it off, still chuckling. “anyway, this is yeosang. if you ever need anything just come to either of us. we’ll help you out.”

yeosang nodded politely, giving you a small smile. “nice to meet you. welcome to the company.”

“thanks..” you responded, bowing slightly. “nice to meet you too.”

soon enough, you found yourself sitting between them - with wooyoung desperately trying to teach you the company software (though he was messing up terribly) while yeosang corrected him at every step, trying to fix his mistakes. the two eventually got into a mini argument as you sat there awkwardly, watching two grown men argue on whether to press the ‘s’ or ‘z’ key.

you eventually spaced out, looking around the office. your eyes landed on song mingi once more, watching how focused he was on whatever he was doing.

the more you looked at him, the more boxes he ticked in your books. but this rigid character of his was going to be an issue if you wanted anything to happen. you cracked your fingers, and only one thing was on your mind as you turned away from mingi.

you were going to break through that ‘serious’ personality of his.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you’ve learnt two things about mingi during your first month of working at ATECH.

number one: he seemed pretty reserved - at least, when you’re around.

it was a little odd. whenever you were nearby, mingi was quiet, silent even. but the moment you were out of sight or busy, laughter would erupt from his table.

you had a pretty important deadline coming up and you needed to work on it with your full attention. you put on your bluetooth headphones and got straight to work. the music did help you focus, but unfortunately, your headphones died with a loud beep.

annoyed, you took them off, moving to grab a wire to charge them when suddenly - you heard something. talking. coming from none other than your deskmate, mingi.

“no- you don’t understand, the fight scenes are incredible!” mingi exclaimed, almost jumping off of his chair. “the animation alone is on another level.”

“overrated,” jongho countered, smirking as he leaned back. “mingi, i don’t know why you keep recommending anime to me. i only watched one episode because you forced me to.”

mingi rolled his eyes. “you don’t get it- episode four is gonna change your life.”

it took everything in you to not laugh out loud. you’ve never seen mingi so passionate about something - and it was about anime of all things.

not that there was anything wrong with it - hell, you watched it. it’s just that seeing mingi so invested and defensive was.. kind of cute. maybe you should give the show a go.

but in the middle of mingi’s rambling, jongho yawned and suddenly glanced in your direction, giving you a friendly wave as his grin widened. “hey ‘___’.”

mingi froze mid-sentence, his hands moving to his keyboard almost instantly, the rant coming to an awkward halt. he quickly straightened his back and cleared his throat, acting as if nothing had happened.

jongho raised an eyebrow, clearly holding in a laugh. “you done with that deadline?” he asked.

you blinked. “uh- yeah almost,” you replied with a nervous chuckle.

you turned back to your work quickly, trying to refocus on your attention to your work but it was pretty difficult to ignore the scene playing out beside you.

from the corner of your eye, you could see jongho trying, and failing, to hold in his laughter, his shoulder shaking as he repeatedly hit mingi who was frantically typing on his keyboard like he was trying to forget what happened.

jongho wiped the imaginary tears from his face. “i’ve never seen you like this before.”

number two: he was definitely single.

thanks to your friendship with wooyoung and yeosang, you were spending almost all of your breaks together - which meant that you were always finding out new things about the office.

as the three of you settled down in a nearby food court, wooyoung started yet another rant about the office, but the topic eventually shifted to your coworkers and somehow mingi.

“he’s probably never felt the touch of a woman,” wooyoung snorted, leaning back into the chair.

yeosang immediately smacked wooyoung on the arm. “don’t say that, he’s our friend..”

“..but yeah, that’s probably true,” yeosang shrugged, slurping the noodles in his bowl.

you couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head. “you guys make it sound like he’s so strange.”

“he is. he’s so weird around you,” wooyoung said, waving his fry around. “i swear- it’s like he’s never met a girl that can code or something.”

you sighed, stirring your iced coffee. “maybe he’s shy.”

“shy?!” the both of them exclaimed in unison, their wide eyes blinking at you.

“he is not shy,” wooyoung emphasised, to which yeosang nodded violently to his statement.

wooyoung took a sip of his soda before clearing his throat. “you should’ve seen him before you got here. he’d laugh at every dumbass joke we made. and now? he’s basically a robot.”

yeosang made a sound of agreement, wiping his mouth before adding, “i mean- he’s probably not used to women being in the office.”

“yeah, especially if they're young and actually, you know-” wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows at you, earning another smack from yeosang.

you rolled your eyes. “shut up.”

wooyoung shrugged with a grin, taking a bite out of his fry. “i’m just saying it how it is.”

you chugged your iced coffee. “is there anyway i can- i don’t know, get to know him better?” you asked as you looked at your coworkers. “how do i make him…”

you trailed off, resisting the urge to ask ‘how do i make him like me’, knowing that wooyoung would probably make fun of you.

you sighed, settling for a, “how do i make him not a dickhead?”

“i mean…” wooyoung bit his cheek, quickly glancing at yeosang before turning back to you. “you could try making out-?”

“wooyoung!” yeosang exclaimed. “we need to give her actual advice. she’s gonna be working here for a while.”

“fine, fine,” wooyoung rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you. “honestly? you want to get closer to him?”

you nodded, maybe a little too eagerly, making wooyoung smirk as he continued, “just talk about anime. trust me, once he gets started, he won’t shut up.”

you and yeosang chuckled. “noted,” you smiled.

“i’m being serious,” wooyoung leaned in even closer, his eyes bigger than before. “i’d love to see his face when he finds out girls who code and watch anime exist.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

even though the whole office knew how awkward you and mingi were around each other, it wasn’t enough to stop hongjoong from pairing you two up for whatever work he had.

the two of you were tasked with test-running the company’s latest software before it was handed off to the client. you spent the next hour sifting through its features and finally, you found a bug.

“mr song,” you called, barely looking away from your screen. “can you come here? i found something weird.”

mingi rolled his chair over to your desk, glancing at the screen as you hovered your mouse over a link.

“so when i click here,” you explained. “it brings me to an error page. i tried all the reboot methods and it still won’t work.”

mingi leaned in a little closer to see the issue. “okay, that might be because-“ he began, but suddenly started to trail off.

you raised an eyebrow, noticing how he wasn’t really looking at the screen anymore. you followed his eyes and realised that his gaze had dropped, landing on your legs.

more specifically, on the way your pencil skirt had ridden up a little when you crossed your legs.

you swear that you could see the faintest hint of a blush dusting his cheeks as he stared - and it took a moment for him to catch himself.

“you good?” you tilted your head.

his head snapped back up, eyes wide as he cleared his throat. “shit- sorry,” he stammered, sitting up straighter in his chair as he quickly focused on the screen. “i was just.. thinking.”

you nodded, biting back a smile. “right.. thinking hard about that error, huh?”

“y-yeah,” he stuttered, his words rushed now. “it’s probably an issue with the script- i’ll need to check this out with yunho.”

“sure, you do that,” you replied with a grin, watching as he walked away hurriedly, running his fingers through his hair.

but of course this wouldn’t be the last time you caught mingi like that.

during meetings when the two of you were forced to sit next to one another, you began to notice the way his eyes would drop down whenever you crossed your legs.

or sometimes, you would adjust your skirt and you would feel his attention drifting towards you, only for him to blink repeatedly and turn back to the discussion. it wasn’t obvious, but it happened often enough for you to catch on.

you didn’t want to be delusional. what were the chances that the hot guy in your office you liked was actually interested in you?

you decided to wait for the perfect opportunity to test the theory - and fortunately for you, you didn’t have to wait long.

you were both working late and mingi sat at his desk next to you, trying to explain his thoughts on the layout of the software.

mid-conversation, you leaned back in your chair, stretching your arms behind your head with a soft groan. but while doing so, your pencil skirt rode up - a lot.

you pretended like nothing happened as you absentmindedly nodded to whatever he was saying. you could see mingi’s eyes shift downward, his sentence cutting short.

“what were you saying?” you asked, stretching a little more as if the movement was completely natural. you watched as mingi blink back to reality, processing what you said. “you were telling me about the layout.”

mingi cleared his throat, his eyes darting up to your face, then back to his screen when he realised he trailed off once again. “uh- yeah, the layout. it’s good.. it’s just that um- we need to fix the code if we want it to be usable.”

you could see his leg bouncing under the table as he turned back to his computer, his typing slowing down.

“are you okay, mr song?” you asked innocently, drawing out his name just a bit, watching his reaction worsen - his blush deepening and his hands coming to a stop, hovering above his keyboard.

“i’mfine,” mingi said quickly, pushing his glasses back up. he started to type on his keyboard once more, completely avoiding eye contact with you.

you smiled to yourself, giving him a hum of acknowledgment as you turned back to your screen.

so he likes thighs, huh?

oh this is getting fun.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

mingi might actually be going insane.

he never realised how bad he was at talking to women - at least, not until you joined the company.

working at ATECH for six years taught him to keep his distance with new hires. watching friends come and go because of the draining job made it seem pointless to make friends with people who might disappear at any moment.

you were no exception. to mingi, you were just another person behind a computer. so even though you were seated right next to him, he barely made an attempt to acknowledge you. what was the point when you’d probably be gone soon? at least, that’s what he told himself.

mingi didn’t want to get attached.

he had to draw the line somewhere. he’d already betrayed his own words of ‘not getting close to anyone new’ with jongho, who only joined a few months ago yet managed to find himself a soft spot in mingi’s heart.

that was already enough for mingi to double down on his ‘professional’ act to make sure it wouldn’t happen again.

when you started, he would give dry answers to whatever questions you had, hoping that you would keep your distance from him. but for some reason, the more he avoided you, the more he found himself paying attention to you.

not to mention how you were insanely gorgeous - which messed with him. a lot.

when you first joined, mingi was confused of why you picked IT to be your job of choice instead of modeling, acting or anything of that sort. but he quickly understood why you entered the industry when he saw the way you coded. it was way beyond any expectations he had.

so not only were you impossibly beautiful, you knew how to code well.

whenever you had to work together or you had a question to ask him, mingi would catch himself straightening his back, doing anything to hide his image of being the nerdy, anime obsessed guy in the office.

mingi knew it was ridiculous. he barely knew you and yet he felt this insane urge to impress you. he didn’t even know why he told you to call him ‘mr song’.

he had never done that before. it just slipped out, like he was trying to seem professional. though, it just made things more awkward.

but the worst part of it all would be those pencil skirts you always wore to work.

you seemed to have a wide range of them, he noticed. some days they would be neutral colours, some days they would be bright and patterned.

he never thought that something as simple as a pencil skirt could derail him of all the thoughts and human decency in his mind. yet there he was, looking at the way your things pressed against each other as you shifted in your chair or how the fabric lifted up ever so slightly-

-god, he felt like a pervert.

he didn’t know exactly when he started to pay attention to your attire or how your skirt hugged you in a way that left him stunned. was it when you had to work together on that one test-run? or during all those boring meetings the company had?

well, not that it mattered. all mingi knew was that he wanted- no, needed to stop being distracted by you.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“shit, i’m late for work,” you muttered through your teeth as you turned off your alarm. you quickly put on your clothes, grabbing your bag as you slammed the door open and headed out the house.

you unfortunately reached the office half an hour late. you were nearly out of breath as you rushed to your desk. as you slid into your seat, you noticed mingi’s gaze on you, looking.. relieved?

you logged in, pretending not to notice his eyes on you. you began to get started on your work, hoping to make up for lost time.

but just as you began to focus, wooyoung strolled over to you, leaning against your desk with a smirk.

“you’re late,” wooyoung tilted his head.

you looked at him with a deadpanned expression. “you’ve been late three times this week.”

wooyoung grinned, grabbing a random chair nearby and plopped himself between you and mingi. he began to talk about some ‘crazy’ thing he was going to do on the weekend, acting as a podcast as you coded.

just then, wooyoung’s attention shifted to your phone, which suddenly lit up with a notification, revealing your lock screen - a character from the anime that mingi had been talking about.

“wait..” wooyoung leaned in, his eyes narrowing. “is that anime?”

you glanced down at your phone, nodding. “yeah, i’m kind of hooked right now.”

wooyoung raised an eyebrow, turning to mingi then back at you. “don’t tell me he converted you into one of his anime minions..” he pointed to your deskmate.

mingi sputtered, completely thrown off by the conversation that he was suddenly involved in. “what? no, i didn’t- she just-“ he stumbled over his words, his face heating up.

you smacked wooyoung’s arm. “i did hear him talk about the show, but i got into anime itself on my own.”

jongho, who happened to pass by your desks as you said that, stopped. “you guys are talking about anime?” jongho looked at mingi with a wide grin on his face. “didn’t know anime recs were the new pick-up lines these days.”

wooyoung smirked as he leaned closer to mingi. “so she’s a weeb and can code. mr song, does that do anything for you?” he teased.

mingi’s face was now a shade of bright red and he kept his eyes locked onto the computer screen, avoiding any eye contact. “i didn’t even say anything to her about it..” he mumbled.

after wooyoung and jongho continued to tease him, they eventually walked away to do their own work. you glanced over at mingi, tilting your head when you realised that he had already been looking at you.

he turned away quickly, clearly flustered as he muttered, “don’t.. don’t listen to them.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“have you done the surveys hongjoong sent in the group chat?” you spoke up, your voice echoing in the quiet office.

mingi blinked. the two of you had to work overtime again to complete a piece of software that a client wanted. he didn’t even realise how late it was until he looked at the time.

“he sent surveys?” mingi asked, raising an eyebrow.

you nodded, holding out your phone to him. “its all about ‘staff satisfaction’ and other bullshit like that. he’s forcing everyone to get it done quick so you should get started.” you turned back to your computer, putting your phone on the desk.

mingi watched as you returned back to work, but there was one thing that he couldn’t get his eyes off of - your lock screen.

he couldn’t stop thinking about how you were paying attention to that conversation. he had to admit that the fact that you actually took his recommendation did make his heart flutter slightly.

mingi’s fingers rested on the keyboard. ‘don’t say anything,’ he told himself. but then again… you liked anime?

his mouth moved before he could even think. “did you finish episode four yet?”

you looked at him, not knowing what he was referring to until you saw that he was staring at your phone screen. “mhm, i actually finished episode six yesterday. i can’t stop watching it.”

“wait, six?” he turned his chair to face you completely. “so you saw the fight scene right? and that whole backstory part?”

you nodded excitedly, matching his enthusiasm. “yes! and the twist with that guy’s brother? insane,” you replied.

“right? i told jongho it was genius,” mingi continued, words spilling out of him way faster that he could control them. “and there’s this one part- wait i can’t spoil it.. uh, but just know that it’s a whole new level.”

only now and then mingi realised how ‘out of character’ he got with you, especially when he saw the way you were watching him. your eyes sparkling with interest as you leaned in, actually listening to whatever he was saying.

and for a second, he couldn’t look away.

his heart stuttered and suddenly, he was back in his own head. what was he doing? he forced himself to turn back to his computer, clearing his throat awkwardly.

“well- uh.. anyway. we should probably get back to work..” he said, leaving you confused of what made him stop.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“alright, i think that’s everything,” hongjoong said, shutting his laptop. “you guys can head home.”

the sudden meeting your boss called dragged on a lot longer than anyone thought. so the moment it ended, everyone around you got up immediately, hurriedly packing their things.

suddenly, hongjoong realised something. “oh, i need someone to print out these reports by tomorrow morning.”

you barely had time to react before his eyes landed on you, then mingi who was almost out of the door.

“mingi, you’re familiar with the printer setup right?” hongjoong asked with a smirk. he then turned to you. “this is a good chance to teach our new hire how we handle our documents.”

both you and mingi let out identical, disappointed sighs - your frustrations perfectly in sync.

everyone, including you, knew that the printing room was a nightmare - old, dusty, falling apart and tucked away in a corner of the office building that was farthest away from the entrance.

“of course,” mingi muttered, his voice flat. “the printing room.”

hongjoong gave a shrug. “it’s not that bad,” he said, obviously lying.

you swore quietly but gave a polite nod to your boss. “got it. anything else?”

“nope, just the reports. shouldn’t take too long,” hongjoong replied as he grabbed his things, heading to the door. “thanks guys!”

with a collective sigh, you took your notepad and followed mingi - who was already sluggishly moving his feet to the printing room.

he pushed the door open, the musty smell of old paper and ink greeting the both of you instantly. “why hasn’t anyone fixed this place yet?” he asked, mostly to himself as he used his hand to cover his nose.

you stepped inside, wrinkling your nose. “because no one comes here unless they need to?”

“right,” mingi muttered. he flipped the light switch, the fluorescent bulbs taking a moment to stop flickering.

the room was cramped and small. dust floated lazily in the air and the ancient printer hummed ominously at the end of the room.

“let’s get this over with,” you said, putting your stuff on an unstable metal shelf.

mingi took out his phone, looking for the files that hongjoong sent him. he glanced at the printer, then at you as he sighed. “i can load the paper. you can.. figure out how to make the rest work.”

“gee thanks,” you said sarcastically as you rolled up your sleeves.

mingi eventually taught you how to use the printer, which took a lot more steps than its modern-day versions. the sounds of each page churning out filled the silence in the small room.

when it was done, you reached for the stack of printed sheets as mingi went straight for the door.

but just then, there was a metallic clatter. you turn around to see the doorknob lying and rolling on the ground.

“you’re kidding me,” mingi muttered. he crouched down to pick it up, but the doorknob was useless. the door was jammed shut. completely.

the room was barely big enough to fit the both of you and now you were stuck here? it couldn’t get worse than this, could it?

mingi sent a text to yunho to come to the printing room to let the both of you out. even though he already heading home, he told you both to be patient while he made his way back.

soon enough, the both of you settled on the floor to wait. mingi sat with his knees close to his chest. when you sat across from him, your knee bumped against his, making him freeze slightly.

you crossed your legs, adjusting your skirt as you do, but you catch mingi glancing before quickly looking away, pink dusting his cheeks.

he cleared his throat, reaching for a nearby clipboard on the shelf and offering it to you. “uh, you can use this if you uh- if you need to cover up or anything..”

you raised an eyebrow, a smile forming on your face. “thank you,” you said, accepting it.

the room falls silent once more and the buzzing of the lights above began to become louder.

mingi shifted a little, clearly hyper-aware of how close you were. you could hear his breathing getting faster, no matter how much he tried to hide it.

after a while, he fumbled with his phone, typing another message to yunho. you watched as his fingers tapped quickly on the screen, slipping a couple of times.

you bit the inside of your cheek. “do i make you uncomfortable?” you asked once he slid his phone into his pocket.

mingi’s head snapped up at your question, his eyes widening as they met yours. “what?” he asked, his voice cracking slightly.

you leaned back against the wall. “do i make you uncomfortable?” you repeated.

“nono, of course not,” he said hurriedly, his eyes locked on the printer.

“are you sure?” you raised an eyebrow.

“i-“ mingi rubbed the back of his neck. he shifted in his spot once more, though his knee bumped into yours again - making him jump slightly. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“come on,” you grinned. “you barely talk to me unless you have to, and when you do, you can’t even look at me- like right now!” you giggled as you watched his eyes dart around the room.

you fiddled with the printed papers. “i’ve seen how you act around your friends. you’re fun, you’re loud. so why are you so quiet now?”

mingi opened his mouth to respond but nothing came out. his hands fidgeted with his shoelaces, his jaw tightening. finally, he let out a soft sigh and glanced at you - for just a second.

“i don’t know,” he admitted.

“you don’t know?”

“i mean-“ mingi stuttered, his eyes on the door. his lips were pressed into a thin line and his shoulders slumped. “i guess- i just don’t know how to act around you…?” he said, already regretting his words.

mingi wiped the sweat off of his forehead, adding onto what he said. “you’re just different from the people i’m used to.”

you nodded, giving him a smirk. “ohh, it’s because i’m a girl right?”

“nonono it’s just-“ he said quickly, his ears turning red. “you’re uh..” he trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. “you’re uh- focused? yeah.. and you’re good at what you do. that’s all..”

you let out a soft laugh, making him look at you nervously. “is this your way of saying you respect me or something?”

his cheeks flushed. “you can say that..”

“hmm.. okay okay,” you hummed, trying to suppress a grin. “so if that’s all..”

you leaned in closer, “..you wouldn’t mind if we went out for lunch together right?”

mingi blinked. “like with wooyoung and yeosang?”

you shook your head, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “just us two.”

“well..” mingi looked at the ground, trying to find the words in his brain. “aren’t most places far away?”

“there’s a manga cafe nearby. it’s pretty cute and has a decent menu.”

his eyes widened at your suggestion. “a manga cafe..?” he repeated.

you shrugged. “i thought you’d like it.”

“i do,” mingi muttered, clearly unsure of how to respond. “you don’t think it’s weird? not a lot of people like manga.”

you frowned, shaking your head. “i don’t find it weird.. do you not want to go?”

mingi immediately straightened his back, his blush deepening as he stumbled over his words. “what? no- i do-“

you laughed, cutting him off. “relax.. we’re friends right?”

you could see a smile forming on his face as he nodded. “yeah.. we’re friends.”

suddenly, you heard a chuckle from the other side of the door as it creaked open. yunho stood there with a grin, leaning against the doorframe.

“sorry it took me a while,” he said, giving mingi a knowing look. “getting cozy?”

mingi’s flustered expression turned into a glare as he stood up, brushing the dust off of his pants. “just let us out.”

yunho moved aside, watching as his friend walked hurriedly towards his desk. “hope you two had fun,” he winked.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you leaned back into your chair, taking a bite out of your sandwich. “you know, i just finished the season this morning.”

mingi’s head shot up, his eyes wide with excitement. “really?” he asked, mid-chug of his drink.

“yeah, i was up all night watching it. i even got a little emotional at the end,” you replied with a nod, causing mingi to flash you a grin - one that you’ve never seen before.

the cafe around you had walls lined with manga shelves. the faint music of anime soundtracks playing in the background. the decor was adorable and you had to resist the urge to take a photo of every corner of the cafe.

the two of you continued talking and for once, it didn’t feel awkward. mingi seemed more relaxed, even joking around with you at times - but of course, he still had a habit of looking away whenever you made eye contact with him.

as the clock ticked closer to the end of your break, you stood up and pointed to the manga shelves. “i think i’m gonna grab something before we head back,” you said, wandering over, mingi soon following behind you.

“i don’t know what to pick,” you admitted, tracing your fingers along the spines of the books. “you got any ideas?”

his face lit up as he reached for a manga volume. “this one is really good. the world-building and plot is great. and the characters? the way they develop over time is just-”

mingi went into a passionate ramble, flipping through the pages as he spoke. you leaned against the shelf, listening to him as you bit back a smile.

suddenly, he stopped, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “sorry, i got carried away.”

you shook your head. “no you didn’t. i’ll take it,” you said, taking the book from his hands.

mingi blinked, stunned. “really?”

“yeah,” you replied with a grin. “you obviously like it, so it must be good.”

he stood there, a little speechless as you walked towards the register.

as you passed the manga to the cashier and reached for your wallet, mingi suddenly pointed to a random corner of the cafe. “woah what’s over there?”

you turned your head, confused. “what are you-”

before you could finish, you heard the tap of a card on the card-reader. turning back, you saw mingi sliding his card back into his pocket, acting like nothing happened.

you stared at him in disbelief. “..did you just pay for that?”

“would you be angry if i did..?” he said slowly, taking the bag where your manga was from the cashier.

you sighed, a small smile tugging at your lips. “no, but i can pay for my own things.”

mingi grinned. “maybe next time.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

it had been about two months since you and mingi started to eat lunch together. at least once a week, the two of you would grab a meal and talk about work or a new anime that either you or mingi were hyper-fixated on.

to be completely honest, mingi was pleasantly surprised at how your conversations evolved. what used to be a little awkward and dry now felt natural and easy.

mingi cracked his fingers. his screen had been glaring at him all morning, the same error popping up no matter how many times he rewrote the code. he leaned back into his chair, rubbing his temples in frustration.

“hey,” your voice pulled his attention away from the screen. “what do you want for lunch today?”

mingi blinked. “shit- i’m sorry,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i can’t go today. too much work to do.”

you didn’t seem bothered by his response. instead, you tilted your head. “okay, then what are you craving?”

“uh... something light, i guess?” he replied hesitantly, unsure of why you were asking.

you just nodded, grabbing your phone and standing up. “be right back,” you said, leaving before he could question you further.

when you returned about 20 minutes later, mingi stared at you in disbelief. you set down a steaming cup of noodles, his favourite chips and a coffee.

“w-wait,” he stammered, immediately reaching for his wallet. “how much was it? let me-”

“-it’s fine,” you interrupted, brushing his offer off. “just eat before it gets cold,” you slid back into your seat.

mingi stared at the meal infront of him, his heart racing in a way that he couldn’t explain. it wasn’t just the food (though that definitely played a part), but it was the fact that you knew and remembered his favourites. you even went out of your way to do this without making it a big deal.

‘that’s just what friends do,’ he convinced himself as he took a bite out of his food. but when he glanced over to you, the butterflies in his stomach told him something that he wasn’t ready to admit.

not yet, anyway.

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

you were busy testing out a software when jongho appeared, dragging a chair behind him. he sat it in your section, right between you and mingi.

“guess what,” jongho began as he faced mingi. “i finally got that place i was looking at.”

mingi turned away from his monitor, eyebrows raising slightly. “oh? that’s cool. congrats man.”

“thanks. i’m thinking of having a little housewarming thing this weekend,” jonogho continued. “nothing big, don’t worry.”

mingi nodded, leaning back into his chair. “sounds good. let me know what time.”

it wasn’t until then when mingi noticed that you were listening in into their conversation, your fingers paused over your keyboard. his eyes darted to yours for a moment before he spoke. “do you want to come?”

you blinked, your eyes shifting to jongho. “i mean.. do you want me there?”

jongho shrugged. “yeah, you’re cool. bring wooyoung and yeosang too.”

mingi didn’t say anything, but the way jongho gave him a knowing look didn’t escape your notice. you bit back a grin, nodding slowly. “alright, i’ll be there.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

“damn you look good,” wooyoung said, looking you up and down.

you raised an eyebrow. “what are you talking about? i’ve worn this outfit to work before.”

“yeah but the work air does you dirty,” he said, earning him a smack from yeosang.

“focus,” yeosang said, pointing to jongho’s door. “who’s knocking?”

“not me,” wooyoung shook his head quickly. “i already carried the chips here. i’ve done my part.”

you scoffed. “you brought two bags and i’m pretty sure you ate one of them.”

“they’re big bags, okay?” wooyoung defended.

yeosang sighed. “fine, i’ll-“

before he could knock, a deep sigh was heard on the other side of the door. the three of you exchanged a look with each other before the door swung open.

wooyoung and yeosang, who were leaning against the doorframe, stumbled forward and landed infront of jongho’s feet.

jongho stepped back, opening the door wider. “welcome.”

you blinked, giving him a smile. “hey, jongho.” carefully, you tiptoed over the two fallen bodies on the ground as you entered the apartment.

the apartment had a warm and cozy feel. there was a decent amount of fake plants and the furniture looked new but comfortable. the dining table was lined with snacks and the kitchen counter was filled with a surprising amount of alcohol.

you walked over to yunho and mingi who were already standing around the kitchen. you waved to yunho before turning to mingi and giving him a quick hug.

mingi froze for a bit, though he quickly recovered, his response stiff. “uh- hey.”

jongho clapped his hands to gather everyone’s attention. “alright, don’t get too comfortable. let me show you around.”

he led the group on a small tour around his apartment, showing off his bedroom, bathroom, living room and office space - he even had a guest bedroom.

after the tour, you found yourself back in the living room, chatting with yunho and mingi.

“so how’s the project going?” yunho asked, taking a sip from his drink.

“not bad,” you replied. “it’s a lot of coding but i’m enjoying it for the most part.”

mingi nodded. “yeah, and you’re good at it,” he muttered quietly, mostly to himself.

you glanced at him, giving him a smile. “thanks.”

the tips of his ears turned pink and he quickly turned to yunho, who was trying to hide a smile behind his glass.

after a while, you wandered over to the snack table where yeosang and wooyoung were hanging out.

“chips are food,” wooyoung said angrily.

yeosang sighed, turning to you. “this is his third bowl.”

“it’s a party,” wooyoung shrugged. “i’m living my best life.”

before anyone could say anything, jongho’s voice was heard from across the room. “wooyoung!”

wooyoung froze, a chip halfway to his mouth. “what?” he shouted back.

jongho stood by the door, his arms crossed. “tell me why there’s a group of at least 15 people outside my house saying that there’s a party here?”

wooyoung chuckled nervously, clearing his throat. “um.. about that..”

jongho’s eyes narrowed. “don’t tell me you-“

the doorbell rang and before you knew it, a large group of people poured in, loud music taking over the entire space.

wooyoung scratched the back of his neck. “i may have uh- spread the word a little.”

✧˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡˚‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚

the house grew loud, music bouncing off of the walls as laughter filled every corner. you squeezed through the crowd, heading over to the kitchen for another glass of soju. but when you reached, your eyes landed on mingi who was downing many shots of alcohol.

“heyheyhey, stop,” you said, stepping forward and gently taking the glass from his hand.

mingi blinked at you, confused, his cheeks pink. you looked at him with concern. “what’s going on? why are you drinking so much?”

he mumbled something incoherent, rubbing his forehead. without hesitation, you hooked your arm around his and tugged him toward the hallway. “you’re sitting this one out,” you said firmly, guiding him into the guest bedroom which thankfully, was unoccupied.

closing the door behind you, you made him sit on the edge of the bed. mingi groaned and slumped down, half of his body dangling off the bed while his upper body rested against mattress.

you sat on the bed next to him. “are you okay? what’s wrong?” you asked softly, rubbing slow circles on his back.

“...i don’t like people,” he mumbled, his face half-buried in the sheets.

a small smile tugged at your lips. “it’s okay. i get it.”

“i like you, though,” his said, his voice muffled but clear enough to make your eyes widen in shock.

“wait, what?” you blurted out, staring at him disbelief.

mingi got up abruptly, sitting on the bed properly like nothing happened. “why did wooyoung bring so many people? this isn’t a party party,” he said.

“i.. i don’t know,” you stammered. “can we go back to what you said before-”

“i didn’t finish the code i was supposed to give hongjoong,” he interrupted, looking at you with glassy eyes. “am i getting fired?”

you shook your head. “no, he gave you until next month to complete it. can we-”

“-i haven’t eaten pasta in so long,” his voice cracked, on the verge of tears.

“i’ll get you pasta tomorrow,” you said quickly, giving him a small, reassuring smile.

mingi’s face lit up. “really?”

“yes,” you nodded.

the two of you sat in silence for a moment, the muffled noise of the party bleeding through the walls. soon enough, you finally spoke up. “hey.”

mingi turned to you, his eyes a little clearer now.

“when you said you liked me,” you began cautiously. “what did you mean?”

“that i like you,” mingi said plainly like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“well, yes, but,” you cleared your throat. “as a friend or-”

“i like your eyes,” he cut in, his gaze locked onto yours. “and your nose.”

you blinked, stunned.

“your lips are pretty,” he added as he leaned in slightly. “and so are your outfits.”

“i-”

“i like your voice,” he continued. “and the cafes you bring me to.”

your heart raced as you stared at him. “...is this the alcohol talking?” you asked weakly.

mingi tilted his head, reaching up to touch his mouth like he was checking for something. “i’m pretty sure i’m the one talking,” he said, completely serious.

a wide smile broke across your face. “you’re cute.”

“me?” he looked behind him, seeing if there was someone else in the room.

“yes, you,” you laughed softly.

mingi’s face flushed a deeper red - whether it was from the alcohol or your words, you weren’t sure.

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you once more and you could tell that mingi was beginning to sober up. he shifted slightly, his movements becoming nervous.

“i’m sorry,” he began, but you quickly cut him off.

“don’t apologise,” you said.

“but i made you uncomfortable- oh my god i made you uncomfo-”

“i like you,” you said, pulling him out of his spiral.

mingi froze, his eyes wide. “are you serious?”

you nodded.

“b-but you’re so..” he trailed off, his eyes searching yours. “..pretty.”

“thank you,” you said, your heart fluttering. “though i think you’re really downplaying yourself.”

“why would you like someone like me?” mingi asked, his voice a whisper.

you shrugged. “for all the same reasons you like me.”

“because i watch anime?” he asked, confused.

“that’s a bonus,” you grinned.

the next thing you knew, your hands brushed against his, lingering for a moment as his eyes shifted to your lips. it was such a simple action and yet it sent your heart in circles. slowly, he leaned in closer, his warm breath against your skin.

“are you really okay with this?” he asked, worried that you were playing a prank on him.

you looked into his eyes, your voice soft. “i’ve been waiting for this.”

then mingi’s lips were on yours.

it was soft at first. but the second your hand found his jaw, tilting his head slightly - something in him changed. his hand was on your thigh, his fingers curling into the fabric of your skirt like he needed to hold on or risk floating away.

your hand moved to his chest and you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm. mingi’s other hand found your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“mr song,” you mumbled against his mouth, the name drawing a low groan from him.

“god- you’re so perfect,” he muttered, the grip on your thigh tightening, his thumb tracing the seam of your skirt, sending shivers up your spine.

you lost track of how long you stayed like that. the music from outside faded into the background and the room slowly disappeared from your mind.

and then the door slammed open.

you and mingi jumped apart, faces flushed and breaths uneven. just then, wooyoung stumbled in, his arm draped lazily around a girl.

“oh my god,” wooyoung’s eyes widened, darting between the two of you with unhinged glee. without waiting a second, he whipped out his phone and snapped a picture before slamming the door shut - his loud voice echoing the hall. “i knew it! i knew it! i knew it!”

you groaned, covering your face with your hands as you got up. “this bastard-”

“-hey,” mingi caught your wrist, his fingers gentle but firm as he tugged you back toward him. his face was still flushed and his lips were slightly swollen, but his voice was soft. “don’t focus on him. focus on me.”

your heart skipped multiple beats. you nodded, letting him guide you back into his arms.

this time, the kiss was much slower - no rushing, no interruptions, just the two of you. his hand returned to your thighs, this time squeezing it lightly, and you couldn’t help but smile against his lips.

when you broke apart, his eyes studied your face, his thumb gently tracing your lips. you brushed away the stray hairs that stuck to his forehead, adjusting his glasses which were lopsided.

“was i good?” mingi asked nervously.

“of course,” you giggled, your cheeks warm. “way more than good.”

he let out a sigh of relief. “i’m glad..” he said softly. your words made him smile, the stress in his shoulders easing.

“if wooyoung posts that picture..” mingi said, leaving a trail of kisses on your jaw. “..i’m deleting his league account.”

any and all feedback appreciated <3 remember to like and repost!

[youraverageaemondsimp]

“Be Quiet.” // DILF!Aemond Targaryen x Babysitter!Reader // PART ONE.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 500 FOLLOWERS! (+200 now) so here is the awaited fic, celebrating a milestone <3 based on this poll, dilf aemond won at the end haha 💞

MDNI

WARNINGS: unprotected p in v sex, dubcon(?), oral (both f and m.), blowjob, cum eating, cum play(?), breeding kink, multiple orgasms, age gap (9ish years), DILF aemond, single father aemond, power imbalance(?), throat fucking, cunnilingus, lots and lots of kissing, + not proofread

WC: 7.1k (yeah...)

« part two // 🎄 special »

Getting fired from your job while trying to pay rent and gathering tuition fees isn't exactly ideal, you wanted to pursue a bachelor's degree after high school, but you didn't have enough money, coming from a family that was barely held by, nor were you eligible to apply for student because there were legal issues.

You moved out of your parents not wanting to financially burden them anymore, renting a decent apartment with just enough space for you to call it a 'home' you've been working for the past 2 years, a decent paying job but it was enough to get by and save up on the fees too, everything seemed to be going perfect until you suddenly got fired and your landlord decided to increase the rent.

You knew you'd have to cut into your savings to pay rent now, but you didn't want that, you halfway there to your goal, you were expected to get promoted and get higher pay, you calculated it, that it would only take one more year for you get enough amount to pay for the first few sems, and then maybe you'll be able to apply for a student loan by then.

But fate had different plans, and here you were on your couch scrolling through multiple apps to find any type of job, extremely desperate.

And that's when you saw it.

“Babysitter needed.” you thought how perfect of a job it would be considering the degree you wanted to so badly was based in psychology, child psychology specifically, and interacting with kids will probably give you some type of experience?

You quickly clicked on it and found the contact number, and decided to call it, you bit your lips nervously hoping they'd pick up.

“Hello?” you heard a cool voice say which sent shivers down your spine.

“Hello- yes uhm, Hi! I am calling because I saw the post on the app that said you needed a babysitter for hire?” you stumble over your words and mentally facepalm yourself for it.

“Yes, indeed. Are you interested in applying?” he asks and you quickly reply with a yes.

“Do you have any prior experience?” he asks and you reply with a quick yes, you've babysat a few kids throughout your highschool era for quick cash, as a way to not rely on your parents for menial things.

“Mhm alright, I don't want to bring your hopes up by saying you got a job, I'd like to have a personal interview first, if you do not mind.” he says and you say, thanking him and he hangs up the call.

You were fucking shaking.

It felt like applying for the first job of your life all again, the nervousness, the anxiety, the everything.

Aemond had saved your phone number and sent it to his assistant, Floris, asking her to run a background check on you, and to see if you had any criminal background, he read your name on the file that got delivered to him, sipping on his coffee while he scanned through your details.

You just turned 21, recently.

‘So young’ he thought, ‘Let me guess, she's probably looking for jobs in order to afford education.’ he guessed and he was exactly on the money with that one.

He wasn't that old himself, barely 30

He inherited his father's business at just age 23, being the only one capable of handling such pressure, his elder siblings couldn't stand a chance against him, and since then, he's maintained the Targaryen name perfectly.

He remembers falling in love with a woman older than him, he was 24, she attended one of the business parties he dreaded going to, Alys rivers was her name, they dated for 2 years before deciding to pace things up and get engaged since everything was going perfect for both of them.

Until Alys got pregnant, Aemond was overjoyed when he heard that news, but he didn't know that the child would suck the life out of her.

She died giving birth to their son, and he was devastated, being heart broken by her death, however he never once blamed his child, it was their choice to birth him, and it failed miserably.

But 3 years had passed since her death and he had moved on from her death, ready to love once again, yet it was extremely hard to find someone that wasn't after his money.

He knew he couldn't just live in the misery of heartbreak, and Alys would've wanted him to move on too.

His son, Aenys, recently turned 3 too, he inherited Aemond's purple eyes and silver blonde hair, typical targ features, but he saw how the softness of his nose, sharpness of his eyes resembled his mother.

But back to you at hand, he went through all your papers deeming you fit for the interview, he called a day later telling you the address where the interview would be held, his office.

Yes, his fucking office, as if you were applying for a job at his company, he justified it by saying that you were technically his employee.

When you got out of the taxi and looked at the company in front of you, it finally clicked in your brain that your employee was none other than Aemond Targaryen, and it only made your anxiety worse.

You went to the receptionist and told her your name, and she typed it in, giving you a small smile, telling you that you were exactly on time. She called his office to tell you that you were here and led you to his office. You looked around and noticed how big this company was, a bunch of employees working in their cubicles, typing away.

“Mr. Targaryen?” she called out and you heard a small ‘come in.’ Before stepping inside and pushing the door open for you to enter, you did and she stepped outside, closing it gently behind you, leaving you alone in the room with the man.

Aemond hadn't looked up from his files until the door closed, and when he did, he felt his breath caught in his throat.

“You may sit.” he says and you nod, sitting across him on the opposite side of the table, you felt so small under his gaze, it was so intimidating but you put up with it.

He began the interview by asking questions about yourself, and all relevant things, but there was one question that caught you off guard.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asks and you furrow your brows, “Excuse me?” you question, noticing how odd of a question it is.

“Don't get me wrong, the previous babysitter had one, and she used to bring him to the apartment and…” he cleared his throat and you immediately caught on to what he was implying, “Oh! No! I do not have one, and even if I did I would not do that!” you reassure him and he gives you a nod.

He was fucking lying.

But you didn't know that.

The previous babysitter was an old lady, who Aenys liked a lot, but sadly she had to leave the city.

“I hope you know that you're expected to work full time? I leave for the office at 9AM and return back at 7PM, and you'll need to be ready to work those long hours, and sometimes I might not even return till late at night if there is extra work.” he says and you nod, and before the question can leave your mouth he cuts you off.

“Do not worry, you'll be paid for those extra hours.” he confirms and you nod smiling at him.

And then came your terms, which he agreed to, he made you sign a one year contract, and you did it without hesitation.

Frankly the pay was so high you would barely need to work 6 months to reach the full amount, but you still did an extra 6 months considering how having extra money at hand doesn't hurt.

And with a handshake, he accepted you.

You were practically going to spend most of your awake time with the kid, it sounds hectic but the pay was too good to pass up on, I mean, $80 per hour? fuck yes, you'd be having around $230k by the end of the contract. Aemond was filthy rich.

It was finally your day to go to his house and you already knew it was going to be big, but you were still shocked when you arrived to the destination, it was a 20 minute drive from your house, and it was located in the richest neighbourhood to exist in the city, you felt embarrassed getting out of your taxi at an area where everyone probably had their own cars, heck, a collection of them even, but you paid the fare and the guard got up to question you, you told him and he quickly nodded before letting you inside.

It was early in the morning, you came quickly so Aemond could show you around the house and introduce you to his kid, you stood there nervously as you rang the doorbell, Aemond had checked through the security camera before the door opened, revealing the house interior.

You quickly stepped in and he closed the door behind you. You expected him to have maids and a bunch of staff, but you were surprised when you found none. No wonder he asked if you can cook, you'd probably be doing all the work here besides the cleaning.

“Aenys is in his playroom, let me take you there.” he says cooly and you follow him, taking in your surroundings.

He opens the door to the playroom and you immediately find a kid, who you assumed to be older than 2, playing with his dragon toys, making rawr sounds, and yelling the word ‘dracarys.’ you smiled at the cuteness.

Aemond cleared his throat which caught the attention of Aenys and he smiled brightly before he jumped in his arms, “Papa!” he yelled, before he turned his attention to you and looked at his father in question

“Hey aeny, do you know how the previous babysitter had to leave town?” he asks gently and Aenys nods, “And papa needs to be away for work top right? So I got you a new babysitter who will take care of you.” he points towards you, explaining and Aenys looks at you tilting his head slightly

“Hey, Aenys.” you give him a small, waving your hand, he shyly waves back before he hides his face his fathers chest, you chuckle at the cuteness.

“I'll go give her a house tour okay? And then I will visit you once again before I leave, have fun darling.” He says and puts his son down, and Aenys looks at you once again, inspecting you, observing you, you smile at him once again, and this time he gives you a shy smile.

Aemond leaves the room and you wave a quick temporary goodbye to Aenys and follow him.

“Aenys, doesn't have a mother, or at least he had to grow up without one” Aemond randomly begins and you look at him confused. “My fiancee-” he sighs before halting his footsteps, “She- she had died while giving birth to him.” you watch as he takes deep breaths, “It's okay if you don't want to talk about it now, we have a lot of time anyway, just open up to me when you are ready, sir.” you tell him and he looks at you, giving you a nod and resumes the house tour.

It was fucking big.

Just like he said, he visited his son once more before leaving for work and the entire day you spent it with Aenys, getting to know him, observing his behaviour.

You noted that he was extremely shy at first but then he eventually warmed up to you, he still had his guard up of course since you were fairly new and a stranger in his life, you introduced yourself and he did the same.

He showed you all his toy collections, which you were genuinely fascinated by, he had so many dragon figurines and remembered each one by their name, his favourite was vhagar.

“It waass papa's once, when he was jus like mee.” he babbled cutely, the way he pronounced the words were so cute too, you swear you could die at it.

“Vhagar belonged to your papa?” you felt awkward saying the word papa, but you knew you had to considering that it was the term Aenys was used to, he nodded, smiling.

“Yesh! He gwave it to meh.” he says and you smile.

Aenys had quite a developed vocabulary for his age, though he pronunciation was a bit off, but you knew it would improve with time.

And just like that, you and Aenys grew close, he was always cheery to see you, you cooked and looked after him, feeding him vegetables in a way he would enjoy, and Aemond was surprised when he found out, considering Aenys refused to eat vegetables.

You put Aenys to sleep one day, singing him a lullaby and caressing his hair as he fell asleep in his bed, he watched you with big doe eyes, which were slowly beginning to get droopy as sleep overcame him. He closed his eyes and his brows were relaxed. You sat there for a while, watching him sleep, and you look at the time, 8PM, Aemond was running late, but you didn't mind, by the time he usually fell asleep, Aemond would've been there, listening to you sing to his son and when he finally fell asleep, you would leave, politely saying goodbye to Aemond, but this time you had stayed, since Aemond was late.

You noticed how Aenys eyebrows furrowed before you saw tears coat his eyelashes

“Mam… mama… I want mama...” he mumbled in his sleep and you swear you felt your heart wrench at that, then you heard small sniffles.

He was crying in his sleep.

Is this what usually happens after you leave? You felt extremely sad, you remember how Aemond had told you that Aenys grew up without a mother, how she had died during childbirth. You never really thought about it much but you realised how tough it must've been for Aenys, then suddenly you remembered all the times you played together or watched cartoons, how he would say the word "mother" longingly when he was referring to a mom dragon, or how he stared in a daze when a cartoon showed a mom taking care of his child.

He was beginning to notice an absence of a parental figure in his life.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by the sniffling getting louder, and Aenys was beginning to borderline cry out, you quickly picked him up and carried him, pacing around the room gently as you patted his back, his hand clung tightly onto the sleeve of your arm and he rested his cheek on your shoulder.

“Shhh, Aenys, it's okay.” you try consoling him but he kept repeating the words 'I want mama, mama.' in his sleep over and over again.

Not knowing what to do, you began to feel bad, so you did what you thought was the best.

“Aenys, Mama is here, it's okay hush now..” you coo gently into his ear and that's when he finally stops sniffling, 'mama?' he mumbles and you hum, “Yes, it's mama, do not cry anymore okay? Mama is here.” you caress his hair and he finally relaxes, you were so entranced in comforting him that your brain managed to ignore the presence of Aemond himself, who had arrived when you picked him up and paced around in a panic, he was going to interfere but then he heard you say those words.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you noticed him, heat climbing up your face as you realised he probably heard everything and also you were stricken with fear too cause you likely overstepped.

You gently placed Aenys down on the bed and got out of his room, anxiety coursing through your veins as you realised what you had done

But you were only trying to comfort him.

Aemond soon followed you out the room as well and you turned around to face him when he closed the door.

“I apologize— I'm so sorry—” you began.

“Don't. It's fine, I can understand why you did that.” he cuts you off, and you wince.

“He- he's been noticing.” you began and Aemond nodded, “I've noticed too.” he replies and sighs.

“Aenys has changed a lot since you've started babysitting him in a good way , and I've noticed it, he's becoming more and more aware of the world around him.” He moves to the living room, sitting on the couch and you do the same, sitting on the one opposite to him.

“I've made sure that he never felt a lack of anything in his life, but I guess it's only natural for a person to desire something he can't have.” he says.

“Aenys can have a mother, if you remarry, that void will be fulfilled somewhat.” you suggest and he looks at before chuckling “I've thought of that too, my mother said the same thing, but i cannot trust anyone, especially considering how many are after my money, who knows if they'll be kind to him, or whether Aenys will like them or not.” he sighs.

“That is true.” you agree with him and he looks at you.

“Unless… ” he begins, eye scanning your entire being and you look at him, your heartbeat quickening, just as he was about to say something, your phone rings and it cuts off the trance-like state you were in, and you look at it to see who it is.

It was a spam call.

But then your eyes bulge out of your sockets when you look at the time, “Holy shit it's late, I'm sorry sir but i have to leave now, or else it will be too dangerous.” you say and quickly apologise and he nods, dismissing you. That was the first night, sleep came to Aenys peacefully.

But it didn't to Aemond, he was lost in thought about everything, but then his mind wandered off to somewhere it shouldn't go.

The way you comforted Aenys stirred something inside you, the moment was perfect, you cooing in Aenys' ear that you were here, pretending to be his mother.

It was so perfect.

Almost as if you were made for that.

Aemond felt his heart flutter.

For the first time in years.

He couldn't help but accept the pull he felt towards you.

Aenys doesn't seem to remember the incident, probably cause he was literally just sleep talking so it was left at that, but you and Aemond however grew a bit close after that incident, he came back home early as he can, so he could spend time with his son and you, he was subconsciously trying to get his son used to both of them being around, both present in his life as parental figures.

You obviously weren't able to leave early just because he got home early because those were your mandatory hours, so it became your new normal to spend time with him and Aenys.

You couldn't deny that there was something definitely blooming in between you and Aemond, he would often throw appreciative comments in your way, which made your belly pool up with heat.

You noticed how he wanted to stay by your side, physical touch lingering, he had suggested that you 3 should go grocery shopping, and you found it odd considering he could literally order his clients to fetch them for him, but you agreed anyways, using it as a chance to get outside and let Aenys interact with other people. Aemond was heavily against sending him to the daycare, because he was scared for his son, it was understandable but it also set Aenys behind a bit.

“Mama, I want this!” you hear a kid yell at his mom and you watch as she refuses it gently, telling him no and that she will buy him the next time they come back here, and the kid just pouted, you chuckled at the sight.

You turned your attention to Aenys who was staring at the scene too, and you realised how he was in a daze once again as well, you looked at Aemond who also seemed to notice.

Aenys quickly ran in another direction and you panicked and almost ran after him before he was back in front of you again, grabbing the same toy the other child had grabbed earlier and showing it to you. “Ma-” he cut himself short before pushing the toy to show you “I want this!” he says and Aemond was confused at first and he was about to agree to buy that toy for Aenys until you butted in, “No Aenys, we can't buy it right now! We'll buy it next time when we come back here okay?” you say and he smiles sheepishly at you, before pretending to pout and put the toy back in a random shelf.

You chuckled at the childishness, he just wanted to feel the same type of experience that others do. Aemond knew it was just you both playing around, he didn't miss the way Aenys almost called you his mother, and it spurred him on further, the way you acted as a genuine mother.

Those type of random moments became often, and it pushed Aemond further and further to the edge, the way you would act like such a perfect mom made him want to bend you over any surface and fuck you, filling you up with his cum.

Aemond then suddenly started joining for lunch, he would usually eat at his office, but he made extra effort to drive home so he could eat with his 'family.' He loved your cooking, you made it taste like home, he would watch as you cut smaller pieces of fruits and vegetables for Aenys so he could properly chew and eat. He imagined how perfect you would be as his wife and like an official mother to his child, or better, children, all of these small things were pushing him to the edge

And soon it would push him off it.

Aemond cursed himself when he drove through the rain, already running late, he looked at his watch and read the time, it was 10PM, the meeting in the afternoon stretched over two hours long which set back the rest of his schedule by a lot, he quickly parked his hair before making his way inside his house, open the door with the extra key carried before shutting it close.

“Look Aenys! Dada's here.” he heard you say and he was immediately spun around, he didn't expect you to stick around this long, but then he realised it was raining heavily and you always went by taxi, there probably would've been no taxi available in this weather.

“Aenys didn't go to sleep yet?” he asks, undoing the suit he was wearing before throwing it on the couch, approaching both of you, taking Aenys into his arms.

“He wanted to wait until you got home, he was worried for you, though he seems tired hmm.” you pinch his nose playfully and he scrunches it up, “I'm not twired…” he says but then yawns earning a chuckle from both you and Aemond.

“I'll put him to sleep, you go freshen up.” you say and Aemond nods, giving him back to you.

Fuck everything about that interaction felt too domestic.

And Aemond had lost his resolve.

He found you sitting on the couch, scrolling through something, he sat down next to you.

“What are you doing?” he asks and you look at him, “Trying to book cabs, but there are none available at the moment due to the weather.” you sigh before placing your phone down.

Aemond should've offered to drive you home but instead he offered to let you stay.

“You know you can stay over, I do not mind it.” he says and you look at him “Really? I don't wanna be a bother—”

“Oh please, you are never a bother.” he cuts you off and smiles at you. “You should freshen up for the night, you've been here since morning.” he says but you pout. “I do not have any clothes.” you say and he simply shrugs, “You can wear mine.” he pushes the buttons, wondering how far he can get away with it, he knew offering you to let you stay at his house already broke the employee boss relationship, hell, the moment he desired you was when it already broke.

“Mhm okay! Where is the guest bathroom?” you ask and he shakes his head, “The water heater is broken in that one, it's better if you use the attached bathroom in my room.” he says.

The water heater wasn't broken.

He was lying.

And you believed him.

He watched as you got up and made your way to his room, which was right next to Aenys', considering he has to react if something happens to him, he followed you inside opening the cupboards and giving you his hoodie and fresh pair of boxers which you thanked him for.

He left the room to give you privacy, but oh gods his mind was racing with all the thoughts.

He paced around, trying to contain himself, and he stood there in front of the door.

And then you opened it.

His hoodie reached to your thighs, and you looked at him, shocked to find him in front of the door, lips parted.

He snapped.

He quickly pushed you inside and shut the door behind you, slamming his lips against yours, and kissed you fervent hunger, you stumbled back and you almost fell but he caught you by your waist and pushed deeper into the kiss, moving his lips hungrily against your.

He pulls away, silently giving you a way out if you need it.

You should refuse this.

You should push him away.

But you don't, instead you wrap your arms around him and pull him into a deeper kiss, he groans when he feels you kiss him back, he pulls away once again, before grabbing you by your arm and pushing you onto the bed, making you fall on your back, your hoodie rising up, revealing your stomach, which he kissed lovingly before he pulled the hoodie even more further up, exposing your tits and pressing kisses to the nipples, causing you to gasp.

He pulls the hoodie off of you completely, and you raise your hands to assist him, he pulls off his shirt too, exposing his naked chest, and you bite your lip at the view, next he takes the boxes off you, doing the same, leaving you both completely bare to the room.

He pushes you upwards to the bed and crawls on top of you, kissing your face, neck, collar bones and valley between your breasts, his hands grab the flesh of your tits before he kneads them, massaging them, thumbs flicking the nipples making you arch your back.

One of his hands trails down to your core, dipping into the heat, he outright moans when he finds you practically leaking, collecting the arousal and bringing it upwards your bud. Rubbing small circles which makes you gasp.

He pulls his hand away and brings it up to lick at the wetness that has accumulated on the fingers, humming in satisfaction before he pressed kisses which travelled downwards until his mouth stopped right at your core, giving a small kiss to it to, you shivered when you felt his hot breath against it, the way the air he exhaled would hit your clit. He kissed the inner part of your thighs first, making you needy with want, wishing he'd just take you into his mouth.

And then he does, his tongue strides upwards from your opening to your clit, giving you one long lick before he captures your clit with his mouth, suckling on it, causing you moan his name loudly, both of his hands wrap around your thighs and he pulls them further apart, his fingers digging into the flesh as he hungrily devours your cunt, tongue flicking the bud constantly, you grip his hair and buck your hips, practically rutting against his face, you felt his tongue travelling down and lick at the wetness, the tip of his nose pushing against your clit, you felt your core tighten as the movement of his tongue sped up, causing you to topple over the edge and your orgasm hit you like a truck, making you whine loudly.

He greedily licked everything up before he placed wet kisses on your thighs, the residue of your wetness sticking to them before he sat back on his knees between your parted legs, you watched as he got up slightly, making his cock come into view.

Your eyes widened slightly, which didn't go unnoticed by Aemond, this stroked his ego very much.

He was big, bigger than any you've seen before, it was pale with a tip that was flushed pink due to the blood pumping, oozing precum out of it, he pumped his cock in his hand to ease the area, coating his dick in his own precum before he positioned it against your entrance, you bit your lip in anticipation but then you felt him slide against your folds, covering his dick in your wetness as well before slapping your clit with the tip of his dick, making you whimper.

He then lined himself against your entrance and pushed in, and you arched your back at the stretch, it was so delicious, you felt so full.

He leaned on top of you and gave you a passionate kiss, you could taste yourself on his tongue, making you taste the tanginess, he supported his weight on his elbows which were on either side of you, gripping yours, fingers intertwined with yours. You were locked in a missionary position, a position that felt intimate.

Then you felt him move, thrusting in and out at a brutal speed, causing you to moan his name, the thrusts made you jolt up the bed, breasts bouncing due to the force emitted from it, his grip tightening as he grunted on top of you, rutting into your wet heat, his hair dropped his shoulders, cascading around his face, and you gasped at how godly his looked like this.

Then you felt his tip hit your gspot, constantly, which caused you moan extremely loudly, “Fuckk! Ahh~ Aemond!” you mewled, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, his hand left one of yours to cover your mouth as he continuously slammed into you.

“Shh, be quiet, or he'll wake up.” he whispers, referring to Aenys who was sleeping in the next room and you nodded, you felt him pull his hand away but his thumb traced your lips, you opened your mouth which made him put his thumb inside and you sucked on him, and you felt him groan, then he pulled it out, hand going back to grip yours, and you bit your lip to hold back your moans from slipping out.

You felt your core begin to tighten again and it snapped once more, causing you to arch you back, pushing your breasts against his chest and he muttered 'fuck' feeling the way you clenched around him.

His thrusts begin to grow sloppy and lose their rhythm, indicating that he was close, “Fuckk, I'm gonna cum inside you.” he says and you whine, “I'm going to get you pregnant, watch you grow round with my kid…” he growls, thrusting into you again and again, “You're going to give Aenys little siblings, You will, right? He looked so lonely, I think he'd appreciate that.” he grunts and you nod quickly, mind too hazy to even comprehend or acknowledge the complications behind you agreeing to this.

“Good girl.” he says before he finishes inside you, and paints your walls white, shooting up his seed far into you, riding his orgasm out.

You felt him pull out and thought that was the end until he pushed you over onto your back, and sat on his knees, he grabbed your waist and pulled it up, and you immediately switched to supporting your on your knees as you arched your back, stretching like a cat, your hands on the side of you.

He groaned when he watched his cum drip down your thighs before he scooped it up and put it in his mouth, tasting your combined essence.

He was still hard.

So he wasted no time, shoving himself back inside you and you whined at the way your walls felt overstimulated, not knowing if you can handle one more orgasm consistently.

He sheathed himself inside your walls, and moved with fervent speed like before, his balls slapping against your thighs, the room was filled with erotic noises, he gripped your waist for support, until his hand travelled slightly upwards, catching one of your tits before gripping it tightly, and rolling the nipple in between his fingers.

“I can't wait to watch them swell.” he grunts.

“You'd look so pretty with my child in your belly, the way your tummy will swell? Gods fuck, that is a vision.” he moans

“Look at you, taking my cock so well, like you are meant to.” he notes, thrusting in and out, watching as the previous cum leaks out.

He clicks his tongue

“So much is going to waste, tsk, it's okay I'll fill you up again, make sure you get pregnant.” he groans and you moan, “Ye-yes fill me up.” you say, and he smirks at that, “Good girl, taking my cock like one.” he leans against you, your back pressing to his chest as he leaves kisses on the back of your neck, and you once again, topple over the edge for the third time.

He finishes too, inside you again.

You both fall besides each other on the bed, and realise the weight of the situation after the adrenaline and excitement of the moment fades away and the breathing becomes more stable.

“I- fuck.” Aemond begins not knowing what to say and you lay there quietly.

“Listen, ever since that day you walked in, I felt some type of pull towards you, I wasn't sure what it was, but it was as if we were meant to me, and I couldn't ignore the feelings brewing inside me.” you watch as he speaks.

“I- to put it in simple words, I fell in love with you. I really did, though it's fine if you do not share the same feelings, we can go back to pretending this never happened.” he confesses.

“I am in love with you too.” you confess, “I pushed these feelings away, because it wasn't appropriate.” you say and he looks at you this time.

Silence falls between you two.

A comfortable silence.

He pulls you closer and wraps his arms around you, hugging you, and you hug him back, the he places loving kisses atop you.

You felt something hard pressing against your inner thighs and you looked down, shocked to find him hard again, you chuckle.

“Again?” you tease and he playfully glares at you, “Yeah, you're so fucking irresistible.” he kisses your neck, hips mindlessly grinding against you. “I'm so sensitive.” you pout, but you get an idea, you quickly push him onto his back before getting on top of him, and then crawling down in between his legs, before taking his cock in your hand.

“Fuck!” he moans when he feels your warm hand wrap around it, before you gently tug on it, pumping your hand up and down, watching as the precum leaks out, you collect some with your tongue, poking the slight hole making him groan and grip the side of your head.

You trail kisses down to his balls, before giving them wet kisses as your hand pumps his cock, you lick a long stride up his length before taking him in your mouth, as best as you can, hands resting on his thighs to balance yourself.

You bob your head up and down, swirling the the tongue around him, pulling away time to time to breath before descending onto him once again, the grip on the side of your head tightened and you watched as he sat up slightly leaning on his elbow, before his hips thrusted upwards, and so you let him take control.

He collected your hair into a makeshift pony before gripping the back of your head tightly and thrusting his entire length into your mouth, the tip teaching the back of your throat, making you gag slightly, causing tears to well up in your eyes, you closed them and tried to breathe through your nose as he thrusted upwards and fast, essentially fucking your throat.

You felt him twitch slightly in your mouth, knowing he was close, you sucked him and hollowed your cheeks, he threw his head back at that, he felt steady pleasure rising within him before such a force expelled from his body, causing him to peak, shooting out ropes and ropes after cum into your mouth, you felt it hit the back of your throat, causing you to swallow unknowingly, before he slightly pulled out, cause the remaining to fall in your mouth.

He pulled out completely and watched your face, flushed and hair dishevelled, you held his cum in your mouth, waiting for his command, “Swallow.” and you did, obeying him, opening your mouth to show that there was none left, he groaned as he watched the remnants of his seed drip from the side of your mouth before he collected it with his index finger and shoved it back into your mouth, and you click his finger clean, he grunted before you upwards and kissing you, tasting himself in your mouth, hands squeezing your ass before he gave one of them light slaps, causing you to wince.

You pulled away and breathed heavily, he smiled down at you, before he left the bed to clean both of you up, collecting the clothes and getting dressed before he pulled beside him in the bed, going to sleep while hugging your form.

You dreaded the next morning, wondering how you'll explain your relationship to Aenys, you woke up to an empty bed, you read the time, it's was just 8AM, you felt sad but then you quickly got up and went outside finding Aemond and Aenys awake, sitting at the table conversing, your heart warmed at the sight, Aenys spotted you and ran over to you, lifting his arms up, asking you to silently to carry him, and you did, you picked him up before placing a small kiss to his forehead.

“Mama!” he said and you froze, before you looked at Aemond, who gave you a small smile and nodded and your eyes softened at it, it seems he had done the explaining.

“Mama! Mama!” Aenys grabbed your face making you look at him and you chuckled, “Yes Aenys, it's mama.” you say and he smiles brightly.

“I'll go get ready for work.” Aemond says, getting up from the spot he was sitting on and coming over to both of you before he pressed a kiss to Aenys forehead, and doing the same to you and going inside his room and getting ready.

You put Aenys down on his chair and went to the kitchen to prepare breakfast, you made simple eggs on toast, and just on the time, Aemond came out of his room, looking all ready and you placed three plates down, along with fruits cut into small pieces of Aenys.

“I made breakfast.” you say and Aemond smiles at you, before sitting down and the three of you ate breakfast.

Applying for this job was the best thing you've ever done.

Who knew your life would change the course of it in the span of just a few months.

There were other things to discuss, and you knew it was plaguing Aemond's mind as well, but you both decided it will be best if discussed later and so you both basked in this moment, listening to Aenys babbles.

“So i hwave a mom now rightt?” he asks Aemond who nods, “Are you happy?” he asks and Aenys nods quickly, “Yesh! Aenys is wery hwappy! But…” he trails off and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

“I want a sibling too…” he murmurs

Oh gods.

Your eyes flickered over to Aemond who stared at you, you blush and look away as you remembered the details of last night.

“I wwant a swister… ! or a bwother!!! Hmm any is fine…” he babbles on, not knowing what he is asking for.

You look at Aemond again, who didn't seem to take his eye off you at all.

He smirks.

Oh fuck.

You quickly get up and collect the empty plates before going behind the kitchen counter and placing them in the sink, washing your hands, focusing your attention on them, until you felt arms wrapped around your waist before one trailed upwards towards your breast giving it squeeze, you quickly looked up to see Aenys was watching until you realised he was nowhere to be seen.

“He's in his playroom.” Aemond whispered in your ear, grinding slowly against your ass.

“Heard that? He wants a sibling so badly, surely you can't deny him right?” he asks, pinching your nipples through the fabric causing you to gasp.

He places kisses down your neck, before he spins you around and kisses you on the mouth, making you wrap your arms around his shoulder. He pulls away before kissing you on the cheek.

His phone rings and he notices the time, 9:15AM, he was running late which was the first for him, and it was his assistant calling him.

“Fuck, mood spoiler.” he grunts before shoving his phone back in his pocket before placing a kiss to your mouth once again.

“Don't think I'm done with you yet, it's gonna be one hell of a ride when I get back home.” he presses one final kiss to your neck before pulling himself away from you, granted it was so fucking difficult considering how he wanted to fuck you on the kitchen counter just moments ago.

You nod and follow him to the front door.

“Have a nice day, Aemond.” you say, and he smiles at you, coming to kiss you but then Aenys comes running towards you both.

“Is dada going to work?? BYE DADAAA” he screams and Aemond chuckles, before waving a small 'bye' to Aenys, and leaving from the front door.

He barely left and he already couldn't wait to get back home from work.

And you gulped, nervous in anticipation.

Oh seven hells.

———

[formulakracing]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[lavenders388]

Heyyy could you maybe write some nam-gyu(player 124) fluff like hes only nice to you and otherwise cold so he doesn’t seem week in front of the other players, there’s barely any nam-gyu fics😭😭

Thank youu💗💗

~Only For You~

★🎸🎧⋆｡ °⋆ Nam-gyu x reader headcannons

requested 💌

a/n i LOVED this idea so much i thought i would do headcannons instead so i can write more little scenarios and get more into it:3

<3 throughout his past promoting clubs he would try and act cool/nonchalant sometimes in a rude way with his customers and/or employees, and he learned acting that way left people wanting to learn more about what he was promoting/respect him more and so it ended up becoming like his work attitude in order to make his club events more successful. he explains all of this to you in the beginning of your relationship, reassuring you its just for the money and he doesn't actually stand by anything he says or does and wouldn't ever. when you join him at his promoting nights he would refuse to act that way to you even if it was in front of someone super important:3

<3 going off of the first one, i think nam-gyu would prefer that you don't come with him to any clubs. first mostly because he doesn't believe that that type of environment is super safe for you and he doesn't want to risk you doing any substances/getting addicted to anything; and because he doesn't want you to see how he acts in front of the people he's trying to get business from. he thinks that you're better than the type of people he hangs around those nights as well as he just doesn't think you to deserve to have to see that side of him!

<3 he is super soft and kind to you in private, ever since he met you he started to prefer that side of him and dislike the feeling of having a fake, boisterous personality in order to gain the respect of people he's trying to sell club tickets to. he's a lot more introverted and kind when the two of you are in private and he really starts to prefer staying in with you over going out all night.

<3 one of his favorite things is coming home to you after working and being able to completely abandon his day and everything that came with it and just be himself and relax with you. he absolutely melts into you and loves the energy you give off. lets you know how much it means to him everyday!

<3 he uses substances a lot to uphold his extroverted, cool guy persona because he eventually gets exhausted of all of the late nights pretending to be someone he isn't and finds that using is really helpful even though he knows its not a good thing. this is also something he begins to want to stop doing when he meets you:)

<3 he really wants to stop his club promoting life for a more simple life with you where he can just be himself and not do so much overextending, but worries that he wont be able to find a job that pays as much as promoting does for him. he wants to be able to spoil you and doesn't think it would be right for him not be able to do that financially. he doesn't want you to have to work at all unless you want to, let alone be anywhere near the breadwinner of the household.

<3 he ends up going to the games after hearing the prize amount because he sees it as like a forced detox in a way; like he'll be away from any substances and he wont have to deal with any promoting stuff, and then hed have the opportunity to make a ton of money for you.

<3 you also get the card and want to join the games in order to pay off both of your debts and have a decent start at a new life together. you agree to do it together and use the winnings to pay everything off and buy a nice house and even start like a little coffee shop together or something:)

<3 during the games his persona becomes a lot more amplified because instead of doing it for his promoting he's doing it for a ton of money as well as for the both of your survivals. he also starts going through withdrawal from the stress of the games as well as if he had been using before he went there. this adds to his motivation to fit in at all costs when he sees what thanos has in his cross necklace. he doesn't like that you have to witness any of this but he likes that it ensures your safety being part of thanos's group. he makes it clear to thanos that you're with him for the games and nothing can change that.

<3 he reassures you that his behavior with thanos is nothing more than his need to win the games for the two of you, as well as ensuring your safety within a group. he lowkey makes fun of him with you in secret to make you feel better!!

<3 he compartmentalizes the other players as just people in his way of providing you the life you deserve; that them losing is just the two of you getting closer to winning and safely going home. the pills help him a lot with this; he knows that humanity and kindness might ruin his chance of winning for you, and showing mercy for the other players would result in thanos loosing respect for him. he knows that sticking with him will be of great assistance in winning, and he'll do anything to preserve that unless its something to you.

<3 if thanos starts to say something gross or mean to you or about you, nam-gyu shuts that shit DOWNNN! but in a very calculated way to not make him question their allyship. he'll say something like "lets respect the ladies." trying to sound joke-y but still meaning it.

<3 during mingle that man does not let go of you for a single second. even if it means not going with thanos he lets his demeanor fall a bit if it ensures you stay with him and make it through the game.

<3 when the fighting breaks out he does whatever it takes to protect you. especially after getting them pillz from thanos he purposely loses all sense of feeling bad for his actions because it just insures your safety even further. before he does it he reassures you its for your safety and because he wants to give you the life you deserve, and he means it when he says he'll do anything to give you that. "please just trust me baby, this all for you. for us." he says to you as he leads you to safety before lights out. "if you need me call for me and ill be here. i love you."

<3 when you get scared during the games and in moments like that he allows his demeanor to soften even if people are watching him. he wouldn't want the last thing you remember him doing to be him not being himself and being sweet to you. se-mi notices but thinks its sweet, especially because shes doing the same thing as him; faking it to thanos to be in his group.

<3 inside and outside of the games all he wants to do is protect and provide for you and he would do whatever it takes<3

[sunnyjeon]

Call me when you get Hong

with Joshua Hong (another fluff drabble + fake texts!)

Trying something new! This is not proof read, your thoughts are very much appreciated. Thank you for all the love on my recent fics. The duality of Joshua Hong, I swear it's going to drive me crazy!

A Saturday night filled with friends and laughter, you reflect on the overwhelming love you continuously receive. And when Joshua finally makes his way to you, you share a sweet and chaotic reunion. Fluff, humor, and drunk SVT!

It was another Saturday night spent apart—this was normal for you and Joshua. With his ever-busy schedule and continuously succeeding career, and you just beginning to reap the fruits of your own labor, time together had become a luxury.

But tonight marked a shift. You’d finally ruled out late nights at work—your overtime had paid off in the form of a well-earned promotion. One less thing to stress over, you mentally celebrate.

The other? Life itself. That bitch. Between chores, doctor’s appointments, family functions, and personal errands, it all piles up and gets you by your throat.

Still, not once have you ever doubted what you and Joshua share. 

After all, he always goes above and beyond to show you how deeply you’re loved. It’s in the constant messages and FaceTimes across time zones. It’s in the flower arrangements he handpicks and sends to your door. The little gifts, always accompanied by a handwritten note.

It’s in his letters—his words, written with care, that you read in his serene voice in your head. It’s how soft he is with you. How gentle. Sure, he’s like that with everyone—but with you, it’s different. Deeper.

Joshua would drop everything and anyone just to be with you. He rushes to see you the second he lands—no matter where you are. Even if it’s just to wait for you at work, he shows up with your favorite snack and a few sweet kisses. He doesn’t mind doing nothing. To him, simply being in your presence is a blessing.

“-- then she goes and pulls out a fake gun! She’s insane.” 

Playful banter pulls you back to reality. Shaking your head, you smile to yourself—even in a room full of people who love you, you’re thinking of the one who loves you most.

You’re celebrating with friends, in your little flat in the city. Warmth from the alcohol flushes your cheeks and bites a little against the cool night air. Maybe drinking on the patio isn’t the best idea—but it’s alright. It’s beautiful out here.

Spring has arrived. The cherry blossoms are in full bloom. Pink petals sway gently in the wind and fall gracefully to the pavement. It reminds you of Joshua—somehow, he’s everywhere but here. How ironic. How beautiful must someone be for even the mundane to sound poetic when you think of them? 

“Aigoo, our little Y/N-nie is drunk and smiling to herself,” one of your friends teases.

You shrug as your smile deepens. “What? I’m just happy.” 

“I can tell,” she replies, her gaze softening. “And I’m really happy for you.” She tips her glass toward you in a quiet toast. You clink back, letting the bittersweet taste of wine linger on your tongue — a warmth that blooms and settles deep in your chest.

Her words squeeze at your heart in the gentlest way. You glance down, biting your lip as warmth bubbles up in your chest. You can feel it rising—this quiet, overwhelming gratitude. Your cheeks flush, your eyes shimmer, and for a second, the joy is too much to hold.

So you just blink the tears away, smile through it all, and send a silent thank you to the universe.

Another friend chimes in, “Bleurgh, when did y’all get so cheesy?” She dramatically pretends to gag, sending the whole group into laughter. What a night, you think.

The gathering ends with the rest of your group buzzed. Not drunk but tipsy enough to send them all home giggling– just perfect for a Saturday night. You dish your phone out from the kitchen counter, forgetting you left it there while grabbing drinks.

The device blows up with notifications– mainly from your lover. And well, your lover’s lovers. 

“Call me when you get Hong?” you laugh, amused. He must be really drunk to forget you were celebrating at home. Walking to your door, you tap on his contact and hit call. He picks up immediately.

“My love! My heart! My Ynie!” he greets dramatically. “I missed you.”

You bite back a giggle. “Hello to you too.” In the background, chaos unfolds—muffled voices chatter over each other, some clearly on the verge of arguing.

“Where are you?” you ask, straining to hear.

“I’m in the car! I—wait.” There’s a shuffle as he looks around. “Guys, tone it down, please. I’m talking to Ynie,” he shushes loudly.

“Ynie?! Give me the phone! I wanna talk to her!” a drunk Seokmin yells beside him, reaching for the phone.

Joshua holds it out of reach. “Nooo! She’s mine!”

Then comes Mingyu’s voice: “Hyung, give me your phone. Let me talk to her, please.”

“Ya~ get your own! Why are you trying to talk to my girlfriend?” Joshua snaps sassily.

Covering your mouth to hold in your laugh, you lean on your front door as you listen to their banter over the phone. 

“Oh my god, we are never getting home,” Mingyu sighs, completely over it.

“Ynie!” Seungcheol suddenly yells into the background. “If you can hear me, please call me instead. Shua’s too drunk to give directions—we’ve been circling the same street for thirty minutes!” he cries out.

“Or,” Jeonghan offers casually, “we could just drive to my place and have him sleep over.”

You roll your eyes at the idea. It’s silly how Jeonghan jumps at every chance to hog Shua’s space. You really can’t blame him, your man is adorable. 

“I wanna go hooome,” Joshua pouts pitifully. “Baby, can I come over? Please?”

“Of course.” you say, smiling at how eager he sounds.

“That’s what we’ve been trying to do for the last hour, cheesus!” Mingyu groans.

Shua giggles, triumphant. “We’re going home!” he announces, leaning back with both fists in the air like he’s just won a championship.

Seokmin copies him. “Going home!” The chaos only grows louder as they chant it together; “Going home! Going home!” Punching the air like frat boys on a mission.

You hear Jeonghan laughing, while Mingyu lets out the most exhausted sigh of the night. Feeling bad for their poor designated driver, your hands swipe your screen to text Seungcheol your address.  

You shake your head at their silliness. Their monthly meetings are getting more and more chaotic over time. It’s befitting, you’d argue. These boys are the most hardworking people you know and having one day off the calendar to celebrate their hard work feels well deserved.

It wasn’t long until an SUV pulled up in your driveway. Seungcheol parks and Jeonghan gets out of the passenger seat, beelining to you. You hear Mingyu shouting for help as he balances a giggly Joshua in one hand and a passed out Seokmin on the other. Seungcheol rounds the car, opening the car door for him, careful not to splay Seokmin on the ground.

Jeonghan sprints to you, “Hey, you,” he mumbles as he gives you a tight embrace. 

“Hannie,” you greet and return his hug. “Aren’t you going to help them?” pointing to the others.

“I would but my time with you is limited,” he sighs “let me soak in your presence first before someone hogs it–” 

“Baby!” Speak of the devil. You both crane your necks towards an overly excited Shua, wobbly running over to you. Your smile grows impossibly wider at how cute your lover is.

He sports a plain white shirt and jeans. The short sleeves folded, deliciously hugging his defined biceps. The wind—clearly a paid actor—presses his shirt against his skin, tracing the sculpted lines of his torso like it knows exactly what it’s doing. He runs with arms wide open, eyes almost disappearing from his smile. His face– a bright red. He looks a little disheveled but nonetheless, still breathtakingly gorgeous. 

Jeonghan runs a hand on your arm and pulls you back in his embrace, “Ya~ I got her first,” he teases. You roll your eyes and laugh at his antics, never passing up an opportunity to tease and get a rise out of anyone– not even his twin is excluded from this.

Before you get the chance to break free from him, a hand wraps around your waist and pulls you from behind. Your boyfriend’s familiar scent welcomes you along with his  thick arms wrapping around your frame. 

Your back hits his chest, he nuzzles his face on your shoulder and lets out a sigh. “Mine,” his grip tightens. “All mine.” 

No matter how often and openly your boyfriend expresses his devotion, his actions still earn a blush from you. Jeonghan chuckling at your reaction.

“Get a room!” Mingyu shouts and you laugh.

“I’ll see you, love birds.” Jeonghan bids goodbye and makes his way back.

Seungcheol waves at you, “Ynie, we’ll leave you to it!” getting in the car again.

You wave at them– the best that you can with your arms caged in Shua’s, thanking them for taking care of your lover. “Good luck, Ynie!” Mingyu’s voice echoes as they drive away. 

“Baby,” your boyfriend calls out. His voice reverberates on your body, his face still planted on your shoulder. You respond with a sweet hum, your hands caressing his arms as it loosely falls on your hips turning you to look at him. 

He lifts his head and meets your gaze– and as always, time freezes.

The cold that bit your cheeks earlier was replaced with a familiar warmth, Shua’s hand– sliding  up your arms to caress your face. Your hand follows in harmony, leaning into his touch, you rest yours atop his. 

The wind blows but no chills follow. His gaze lay heavy on you, enveloping you like a heated blanket on a stormy day. He smiles, his thumb drawing circles on your cheek. He stares, drowning you with his overflowing adoration. 

Gravity pulls you closer— Joshua leaning in, your foreheads resting on each other. You feel his other hand, laying on the small of your back. Squeezing your shirt, he mutters “God, I missed you so much,”. And closes the gap between you two, kissing you feverishly. Melting you physically, mentally, and emotionally.

You can’t think of anything. In this moment, you just feel. 

You feel his skin on yours, his warmth that defies the cold wind.

You feel his lips on yours, gentle and yearning.

You feel time stopping, yet the world is spinning faster. 

You feel dizzy but still. 

You feel weak but stronger at the same time. 

You feel drunk, and maybe you are. Utterly, hopelessly drunk in love with Joshua Hong.

[avifaunaa]

Keep Me Waiting [ Anticipating ] [ r.v. ]

Authors Note: The fic to finally answer a long ago ask. Sorry it took so long Anon.

Masterlist

Pairing: Rio Vidal x fem!reader

Summary: Rio’s been busy saving the world and catching the worst of the worst: that’s what happens when your wife is an FBI agent. But you start acting like a brat for attention, and she finally gives you what you want — and then some.

Content Warnings: brief angst / marital arguments, reader is given pretty feminine descriptors in how she/they dress in this, some FBI jargon from Criminal Minds [ so, I know absolutely nothing as per usual ], a case of Rio's is mentioned in some detail and involves children so take care -- i do not get explicit, but i do give context as to explain Rio's mood

Smut Wise: a lot of filth — dom/sub dynamics, pet names [ babygirl, little girl, brat -> r, sir, daddy -> rio ], Brat!R, Brat Tamer!Rio, phone sex / masturbation [ r ], coming without permission, teasing / edging [ r ], vibrator [ Rio -> R ], kitchen sex, orgasm delay / denial [ r ], multiple orgasms, squirting, degradation, praise kink [ r ], aftercare

Word Count: TBA

Rio was called in on another case less than 24 hours after returning to your shared Quantico home while you were both getting ready for your reservation at Per Se in New York City four hours away, a restaurant she'd been begging to take you to for months before you finally broke and agreed to and then when she did get a reservation, it was another six months before the two of you could get in.

You were putting in your hooped gold earrings when the call came in. Rio got calls all the time -- sometimes they did not require her to come in due to her position on her profiler team and her rank, but not long after she answered with a firm, "Vidal," her face contorted into the form you'd only seen her use for work.

Followed by her leaving the room altogether. That was never a good sign and you waited ten minutes before removing the earrings and reentering your bathroom to start removing the makeup, trying to ignore the jab in your chest at the realization at what was about to happen.

She returned to you with her hands in her suit pockets just as you had applied your moisturizer and pulled silk shorts up your hips. Her features softened at what you could not mask on your face and she reached out to wrap her arms around her waist.

"I'm sorry, babygirl," she said quietly as she pulled you close in an effort to comfort you, fingers coming to slide under the tank top you'd slipped on. Cool fingers circled small designs on your lower spine.

You did not meet her eyes as you tucked your chin into her chest, inhaling the scent of her musky cologne and remaining smell of shampoo from her shower. "'s'fine."

"Do not mumble, baby." The other hand removed itself from around you to gently take your chin in hand. You resisted her hold, wanting to keep in her warmth. "Look at me, please."

You clenched your jaw under her fingers hard enough for her to feel your displeasure, but after a few seconds you did slowly lift your gaze to hers and allow her hand to lift your chin so your face was directly mirroring her own.

She was beautiful and immaculate -- she always was. She had initially let her hair down for the night but it seemed she had put it up in her tight bun during the phone call that would take her away from you again.

"I'm sorry," Rio said, voice low and honest. You glanced at her face and did take note she seemed forlorn about the situation but unrelenting in her dedication to her job. "I will reschedule the reservation on the way in and we can plan something else when I get home."

"We had this planned months out, Rio," you said, unable to keep the bite back from your tone. Right now you weren't talking to your domme, you were talking to your wife and partner -- who you'd been promised to have fully for one night with no interruptions of work or otherwise.

"I know but we agreed that me taking the promotion would mean I don't always get guaranteed days off." She tried to brush her thumb along your cheek bone, but you pulled away from her touch and padded into the bedroom.

She was right. It was a decision you both had sat down together to discuss over -- the pros and the cons of Rio's rising position in the agency she had dedicated her career life to.

At first it had seemed fine. She was home less anyways and she had promised she would make paid vacation time every three months just so that quality time was assured. It was working and you were able to buy your first house together in the process.

But her workload increased and she was in charge of a team of people, away on cases that took her energy and soul. She came home tired and cried more.

Instead of confessing your bubbling emotions to Rio, you swallowed them down into the pit of your stomach and played with the wedding ring on your finger as you snatched the tablet off your nightstand.

"Fine Rio. Be safe, love you."

It was a dismissal -- one you never expressed to the raven-haired woman in such a way. She followed you as you to the living room. "Babygirl," she started, an infliction of warning starting to form, but her phone rang in her pocket again.

"Don't you have a case to solve, Agent Vidal?" you asked her coolly as you lay the throw blanket across your lap on the couch, ignoring her as she rushed to gather her work bags.

"We'll talk when I get home," Rio said, a promise that you chose to ignore despite the pit in your stomach telling you not to. She kissed your head and expressed her love before leaving you in an empty house.

Wine, a cheap cheese and meat board, and social media kept you company that night instead of Rio sitting across from you at one of New York's finest restaurants.

Your temper had cooled considerably by the time Rio called 48 or so hours into the case. You were still hurt and you knew a conversation was coming, but you weren't fuming anymore.

She sounded tired as she spoke to you from her hotel room in Chicago, Illinois. She couldn't discuss much about the case other than it involved children -- a spot that was more sore for her than you knew.

You spoke as she ate her dinner and she asked how your clients were -- launching you into a rampage about how none of them should truly bother to hire a social media manager if they don't want to accept the brand deals that have fair offers when all your clients want is free.

A lot of your ranting was for Rio's sake, and both of you knew it. She needed her mind to be quieted so you did as best you could. When you ran out of material to work with, though, silence fell save for the television in the background from Rio's end.

"We should discuss what was said the other day, Mrs. Vidal," Rio started, dropping her tone an octave and foregoing her vulnerability for the domme persona she took a secondary comfort in.

You ran a finger down the lace trimming of your sheer slip. "Mm, you said we'd discuss it when we got back -- there were no agreements to talking about it beforehand. So . . ." you trailed off purposefully, knowing how riled she gets when you do not finish your sentences.

The receiver rattled as Rio's hand tightened around her cell phone and her breath dropped into the microphone. You smiled at yourself as you lifted the shift up your thighs slightly so she could hear the ruffle of it; she knew your lingerie based on the sound alone.

"So we're playing this game, huh?" Rio mused in a barely controlled question. The television was turned off. "Fine. Go to our room. Now."

You snorted, "Why should I? You don't listen to me when I want something." A fingernail left a soft whine line as you traced it up your skin, and your teeth dug into your bottom lip.

A laugh was your initial response. "Okay."

Then your phone started buzzing. You turned it slightly and saw Rio's call was on hold as she FaceTimed you.

You debated ignoring it and letting it go unanswered just to further piss her off but knew you had built up enough trouble so you answered it just before it dropped.

Rio's arched eyebrow and unimpressed expression greeted you on the other end of the screen. She was sat at the small table in her hotel room, jacket off and white shirt halfway unbuttoned with her suspenders still on.

Just the way you liked her.

"You have no idea just what you're getting yourself into, little girl," your wife warned you as she leaned back in her chair and stared at you with a set jaw.

"Something, something I'm terrified," you replied nonchalantly, allowing just the tips of your lips to curve upward in a way that would drive her absolutely crazy.

Your core was already on fire with nerves and need; pushing Rio when she couldn't do a damn thing about it was one of your rare past-times and you never did it when she expected it to happen.

You wore her favorite set, prepared your attitude, and had kept the panties off for this very reason; and when she came home she would have no choice but to pay attention to you.

Rio's nostrils flared and the way her pupils dilated in front of you had you clenching around nothing. "You're forgetting your fucking place, aren't you? Daddy leaves to make sure we're comfortable and taken care of and you throw a tantrum like the little girl you are."

You slid your hand down to your chest and revealed your breasts to her, brushing your fingers along your nipple. "I was mad," you agreed easily, to her surprise, "because you cancelled the nice date we had planned in advance followed by the nice, hard fuck you promised me after."

Rio spread her legs a little more in front of you and pursed her lips. "I promised to make it up to you tenfold when I came home, didn't I? I just need you to be a good girl."

The words sparked that little submissive kernel in you that confirmed in your brain that play was happening and you smirked at her slowly.

She studied you for a moment, fingers tapping along the arm rest. "Color, babygirl?"

"Oh, it's green," you purred as you angled your camera so it was facing your thighs and the hand that was underneath the slip.

"Absolutely not." Daddy was out, tone firm and harsh. Your hand twitched in place just above your clit as she spoke her command. "You're behaving real fucking dumb right now, aren't you?"

"I deserve an orgasm," you answered, hand starting up again. She did not stop you -- either out of shock or curiosity of what your plan was -- but she did lift a half-drank beer to watch as your fingers came into contact with your cunt.

You made your gasps sweet and just desperate enough that she enjoyed it. Her eyes were darkened as she took a swig of her beer and watched your hand making movements under the shift.

She slammed the beer down that revealed a small loss of her careful control. "Remove the damn thing. Let Daddy see you disobey her order, yeah?"

This you did decide to obey, slowly. You let your fingers show the gleam of your wetness that you wipe on your thigh.

You set your phone so it rested against a decoration on your too expensive coffee table and made sure that Rio could see you well enough as you began removing the slip. The straps had already fallen down your shoulders from when you'd exposed your tits to her.

She played with the rim of the beer bottle and watched with no commentary to provide, brewing in silence and dominance she had nowhere to put with her being hundreds of miles away for the moment.

"At least you can follow some fucking orders," Rio snorted once the shift was on the floor and you were naked, pussy exposed to her. "Daddy has rules, babygirl. No touching yourself unless given permission beforehand when she leaves. You've been doing so well up until tonight, why ruin it, huh?"

"This is your fault," you said simply as you dipped your fingers back into your wetness without her okay, gathering some of it up before going to your clit to make some circles.

Your body went lax against the even more expensive cushions, your throat releasing a sound of pleasure.

"My fault," Rio echoed darkly, drowned by the squelching sound of you touching yourself in front of her. "If you stop now and clean yourself up, little girl, I may not be as hard on you," she warns.

You gasped as you clenched, stomach muscles twitching as you slid your fingers downward slowly and instead inserted them inside of your aching cunt while your thumb replaced their spot on your clit.

"F-feels to good," you slurred, too far gone to stop and willing to take whatever comes later. You already pushed her beyond return from a punishment -- might as well get yourself an orgasm from it. "Daddy my fingers aren't as long, wish it were you instead."

A cold laugh answered you, "The way you're behaving, brat, my fingers would not be in you. No, you don't deserve my fingers or my cock. Little whores like you should be strapped to a vibrator and forced to learn their lesson."

The mere thought had your hips grinding into your fingers upwards, seeking out that spongy spot in your inner walls. Rio made a noise, as if startled by the reaction you had.

"Little whore likes that does she?" Rio drawls in a higher voice as your noises became louder the closer to your peak you got. "You don't deserve to cum for Daddy like a good girl, so how about you cum for Daddy like the slut you are since you can't follow my orders?"

You let out a cry as your clit throbbed against your thumb and you tightened around your fingers, the orgasm rushing through you. Your ears filled with your heartbeat and you bubbled out sounds and words that made no sense as she talked you through the orgasm.

When it eventually tapered off and you slumped back down onto the couch, fingers still stuffed where they were, you took in a large gulp of breath. "Fuck."

Rio laughed lightly and you lifted your neck awkwardly. She looked disheveled but her pants were still buttoned, her cheeks flushed.

She had an amused glitter in her eye as she said, "You're in so much trouble."

You stick your tongue out as you removed your fingers from your heat and cleaned your fingers. "Aftercare," the raven-haired woman ordered then, no nonsense. "C'mon, get up."

Even this far apart she had an aftercare plan and a kit set up for you when you played from a distance. It was crucial even when it was as small as phone sex with a side of dirty talk; she did not fuck with either of your mental wellbeings' in terms of play.

You took the phone and discarded slip from the floor and made a shaky trek to your bedroom, chatting with Rio quietly. She had softened her tone from "mean" Daddy to "aftercare" Daddy, and the two were incredibly different.

You start the bath with your favorite bath bomb and pour a glass of wine specifically saved for aftercare and other special occasions.

"I have some of those chocolate strawberries in the freezer. Sugar and food to go with the wine, please," your wife added as you set the tray of wine and your tablet above the tub.

"Yes, Daddy," you answer demurely as you walk away from the phone to go get the item she wanted.

"Now you listen to what I tell you," you hear her muttering as you leave.

Rio's communication was less available after the scene -- she was so tired by the time she was able to make a call to you and you did not push her to do or say more than she offered, not with that haunted look that lingered in her eyes.

She seemed a little lighter on the day they caught the guy -- a convicted sex offender who had relapsed after fifteen years in prison and then five years of being released with no offense before just . . . snapping.

"They found . . . a lot of shit on his hard-drives," Rio told you that explained not only her exhaustion but the deep, bone-trying emotion she was forcing down.

Rio had lost her son to someone like this perp -- years ago. She had told you this story. Her ex-wife, Agatha, and Rio met at the young age of seventeen; during boarding school where, apparently, Agatha's ashamed parents had sent her during her fifth month of pregnancy.

There, the two had met and the rest was history.

When Nick was five years old he had gone missing. One week later they found his body. Rio and Agatha had never recovered from the loss and they had never caught the fucker, but it encouraged Rio to work into catching as many murderers as she could -- with an interest in behavior that only specialized teams could work on.

She did not talk much about it but she kept Nick in her wallet and on her desk both at home and at work. These cases were the hardest for Rio and the ones that left her with the most pent up, restless energy.

"He's going to rot, right?" you asked quietly as you watched her make sure she wasn't forgetting anything from her suitcase.

She glanced at you and it was brief, but you caught the glimmer of satisfaction that lit life back into her eyes, "Yeah. He's never getting out again."

Rio waited for the gates to the driveway to open, tired and damn near dozing off as the slowly moving iron-glad gates allowed her to pull in. She pressed the button again for them too close and arm, driving into the opening garage.

The lights were off and nothing was out of place, save maybe for the two sleek Dobermans asleep on the floor in the entry way. Wanda and Pietro were quiet but watchful -- and Rio's decision rather than yours -- when she got her promotion and her name became more public during profile releases to the press and document publishings.

She left the two where they were -- they'd follow and join her if they desired, Rio had long since stopped trying to scold you for encouraging their place in the bed -- and found you curled up in your shared bedroom, breathing evenly as you slept.

She dressed in sweats and a t-shirt before joining you in bed, leaving everything else for tomorrow and instead curling her body and arms around the one thing she found anchorage in.

She buried her nose in your neck and you made a soft noise as you cuddled backwards into her, knowing even in sleep your wife was holding you.

She did not take long to follow you into sleep, exhaustion from the last few days finally pulling her down into darkness.

You woke up to the grease and baking chocolate smell alerting you Rio was making her return home meal consisting of bacon, chocolate chip muffins, and probably some eggs to go along with it; that was the breakfast she went created from scratch every morning she returned back from a case.

You took a moment to stretch in the bed, your muscles popping in your back as sunlight filtered through the windows, curtains having been opened likely earlier in the morning.

If you didn’t get up on your own, she’d come get you and drag you out of bed in some loud and boisterous way. So you detangle yourself from the bedsheets and pad into the bathroom quietly.

After doing your business and brushing your teeth, you notice a disturbance in the usual setup on your side of the bathroom counter. Next to your sink was an all too familiar box with a piece of paper on top of it.

Let’s play. Don’t come. Be good.

— Daddy.

You set the piece of paper aside and met your own gaze in the mirror, heart thumping in your chest as the puzzle pieces clicked into place for you.

Today was going to be a very long day.

The vibrator egg was nestled in its silk cloth, waiting to be used. You sit on the toilet seat and hold the object in your hand, rolling it around and biting your lip.

She didn’t use this toy very often with you — she didn’t normally have the patience.

You must have really pissed her off.

The thought of that alone made you wet enough to put the toy in with little issue where it nestles between your walls snugly. It still feels weird, and you’ve scarcely had to walk around with it before.

You pull up your panties and sleep shorts and wash your hands, trying to drift your thoughts to something other than the way the egg moved just right inside of you every time you so much as shuffled.

You found your way into the kitchen when you could no longer find excuses to avoid it.

Rio was tilting bacon from a pan, still sizzling, onto a paper towel covered plate. She was in sweats dipped low on her hips and a sports bra, hair in the messiest of bind you’d ever seen from Rio.

Your clit throbbed at the image. The domesticity of it all.

You slid your arms onto the island’s counter, half bent over as you watched her turn around and catch sight of you.

A sparkle came into those dark eyes of hers and she smiled. “Hey baby,” she greeted, setting the plate down and swooping in to give you a kiss.

You returned it, smiling upward and humming your satisfaction at the proper hello she gave you.

And then her hand, fingers splayed, found the curve of your ass and settled there ever so comfortably while the kiss lasted.

“Up,” she murmured into your mouth. You knew what she was wanting, so you push off the counter and she followed, lips still attached to yours, and jumped with her arms lunging out to quickly catch you. Legs wrapped around her waist and your fingers curled in her messy bun.

“Mm, what a beauty,” Rio said, licking her lips once the kiss was broken for air neither of you could no longer deny. “Did you find your special gift on the counter?”

“Mmhm,” you answered, grinding your hips into her abs as your fingers played with the baby hairs at the back of her neck. “I was already wet enough to slip it in,” you added mischievously, smirking.

Rio snorted and allowed you to grind, though one of her hands found itself between your bodies to fiddle with the hem of your shorts. “I bet you are, babygirl.”

You brushed your lips against her neck in hopes she’d be drawn into giving you the best kitchen sex of your life; but no luck. She slipped her fingers in with purpose and didn’t even go near your clit.

She barks out laughter upon coming into contact with your wet heat herself, pushing her fingers in until the tips made contact with the egg nestled inside.

“Filthy fucking slut,” she drawls. “How the fuck this is staying inside so well,” she punctuates this with a push of the egg upwards, and you squeaked. It had no where to go. “I’m left to wonder. I really am.”

“Core exercises,” you shoot back, leaving her to lift her lips upward in a soft sided smirk.

“I give your core enough—“

You shove her chest despite being in her arms, causing her to adjust the one holding you so she gently sets you down onto the chilled hardwood, fingers sliding out of your cunt.

You pouted at her. “You didn’t have to stop.”

“You’re in enough trouble,” Rio reminded you, turning back to the oven at the exact moment the timer went off. “I’m trying to keep you from getting into more.”

You blew air into your cheeks but let the conversation drop as she pulled the muffins out. Your stomach growled as she started plating all the food. “Baby, mind helping me set the table?”

“Sure.” You turned on your heels and meandered through the kitchen until you came to the right cabinets, grabbing your day to day diningware and stopping for silverware on your way to the table.

She brought the plated food to the table just as you sat empty diningware onto the placemats. The little slice of life you had carved out for yourself — it wasn’t what you were expecting for yourself when you met Rio almost five years ago.

You had expected to remain in your New York City apartment, drinking wine by yourself in a lonely silence as you handled clients with nobody coming home to you.

You were glad you weren’t living that future, but this one.

You caught Rio sliding Wanda a slice of bacon and rolled your eyes, but didn’t comment on the action as you sat down across from her at the table.

“When did you get home?” you asked her as the two of you began piling your plates with food. “I don’t think I woke up?”

Rio’s lips twitched. “You didn’t,” she confirmed, stabbing her eggs first. “You were lost to this world, drooling into my pillow by the way.”

“It smells like you,” you defended, though you knew your drooling habit was true enough. Sleeping face down always ended in waking up in a puddle of your own making. “You can’t blame a girl for missing her wife.”

Rio shook her head, loose strands of hair drifting around her face. “I suppose I can’t,” she agreed.

You both fell into relative silence as you ate your breakfast, sometimes having brief chats about unimportant things.

Rio seemed distracted, though when you were telling her about the client from the other night.

You figured out why the second the toy inside of you began to vibrate. Thankfully she waited until you weren’t consuming food or drink before she decided to turn it on, because your body jerked forward involuntarily as your fingers curled against the edge of the table.

Rio stuck a piece of muffin in her mouth, eyes locked on you with the unlocked intensity that told you that “Daddy” was out to play now, not Rio.

“Feel good, baby?” she asked nonchalantly, pulling a strip of bacon apart and nibbling on it.

You breathed out through your nostrils, refusing to give her a vocal response until you could gather her bearings. Based on how slow the vibrations were against your walls, you deduced that she had it on the lowest setting — which meant she was feeling somewhat merciful this morning.

Sometimes she wasn’t as kind.

You glanced down at your half eaten plate, your glass of water you didn’t finish. Both worthy of punishment she would be pleased to give you if you didn’t leave both glass and plate empty.

“Feels good,” you confirmed as you adjusted your body on the chair and grabbed your fork.

“Feels good..?” Rio pressed, eyebrow arched.

You met her gaze as best you could while not rubbing your thighs together. “F-feels good, Daddy.”

Her smile widened and you know you had pleased her. “What a good girl,” she said, more so a dismissal for you to continue on than anything.

You were alight with arousal and soaking through your panties very, very quickly — sticking to your thighs and underneath your ass. It would grow uncomfortable soon but for now you put on a show for your wife, squirming on your chair and biting your lip between shaky nibbles of your breakfast.

She kept the setting of the vibrator blissfully low the entire time she had it on as you cleared your meal. Even if she was doing it to keep you aroused but not not close to cumming, you were somewhat grateful considering that this was the beginning of a punishment.

She stood up abruptly and started to stack empty plates and glasses. “Baby, mind getting tubberware and putting the muffins in the fridge?” she asked easily.

“Of course.” You stood, but the second you found steady footing the vibrator was clicked up a notch in speed.

Your hip knocked into the counter at the new clash of sensations that coursed through you. You made a low noise in your throat as you turned your body and placed your elbows on the countertop and leaned over it, trying to steady yourself.

“Aw, baby —“ a cool hand slid up your shirt, fingers mocking your overheated skin, “ — what’s wrong, huh? Are you hurt?”

“Daddy,” you bite out, clenching your legs together. Rio notices immediately, based on how her foot jams between your ankles and forces them apart and her knee rests comfortably between your soaked cunt.

“Holy shit, you can’t even keep yourself from ruining two layers of clothing,” Rio chortled, nails making upward and downward designs on your skin, her chest pressed against yours. “My knee is getting soaked.”

“M’cant help it,” you whined. Your forehead suddenly came into contact with the cold surface of the marble countertop, and you realized Rio had been slowly, gingerly bending you over.

“Of course not,” the agent agreed without issue as the hand not holding you down — now by the nape of your neck — slowly started pulling your shorts and underwear at down. “That’s why Daddy’s here, isn’t she? So she can get her stupid little girl back in line.”

You whine into the hard marble as her fingers brush against your ass. Then pulled away.

The vibrations grew in tandem, rapidly.

You yelped and jerked forward, knees knocking into the front of the counter despite Rio’s form holding you as still as she could.

“Nonono,” you whined, “m’gonna come.”

You warned her in advance — the buildup was intense and you were unable to avoid that road without Rio’s assistance. Your clit was throbbing to be touched, but even then you didn’t think you needed it to be for you to come.

The vibrator suddenly went still inside of you and a gasping sob escaped you, your sweat-slicked skin wiping along the countertop.

“Good girl,” Rio crooned as she massaged your neck. “I was fully expecting you to be a slut like you were the last time we played and come without Daddy’s permission — but I see my sweet, compliant girl is playing today. Not my brat.”

Her knee jabbed upward and you released a choked sound, fingers digging roughly into the edges of the counter.

“M’sorry — m’sorry,” you mewled, simpering and small in the ways that you knew Rio was digging through your headspace for. She loved your brat but she loved the thing that you became when she sought to punish you for being a brat.

The ebb of your lost orgasm faded as Rio held you there, basking in your sniffles and soft noises that she reveled in during your dynamic play. She took the time to rub the tension from your neck while her other hand kept a steady hold on your now bare waist.

She wouldn’t deny you for long — her preferred methods were overstimulating you and leaving you a sobbing mess rather than denial. But she cannot deny the deep root that came from the seed that was planted from your little game that night.

Her thumb made circles on your neck and she finally made a move as your breathing calmed.

You felt it when her fingers trailed down toward your weeping cunt, unbothered by the state of it and completely ignoring your clit entirely despite the aborted thrust of your hips to try and attempt stimulation.

“Stay still,” Rio ordered, tone final and tightening her grip just enough.

You went slack again and so did she, continuing her exploration. She played lightly, working you up until she finally inserted two fingers and grabbed the toy inside of you to pull it out.

You hated how empty it left you, the ghost vibrations still shooting pleasures to your nervous system. You shivered as Rio tossed the toy into the sink to be washed.

“Not with the dishes,” you moaned out.

Rio’s hand suddenly grasped your hair and she pulled your head up so she could look at you over your shoulder. “Do you think Daddy gives two shits if our dishes and toys mix?”

You swallowed. “No, but —“

“It’s, ‘No, Daddy,’” Rio corrected as she let go of your head and started roughly fingering you, no warning. “What’s your color?”

“G-green,” you yelped, stomach shoved into the counter as she took her place behind you and began to thrust upward into you.

“Are you ever going to disobey Daddy again?” Rio demanded, her breaths almost as lost as yours as she finally, finally, allowed you to meet her thrusts in tandem and her thumb came to roughly circle your clit.

As much as she was denying you before, this was now turning into a fucking that your brain couldn’t catch up with. A sort of whiplash that left you reeling and Rio knew exactly how to handle it.

“No Daddy,” you promised. “No, never again, I—oh,” you shuddered as a particularly hard thrust interrupted your decree and you were wordless.

“I just need to keep you fucked stupid if I want you to obey, I guess,” Rio mused, mostly to herself as her index finger suddenly scraped over your g-spot.

“Daddy, I—I’m gonna — Please,” you sobbed, sagging into her at the explosion of pleasure that threatened to over take you.

“Come for me, baby,” Rio said, a little more softly without lightening her touch.

It was ripping your body apart — this pleasure. It tore down your sides and cascaded through your entire body like a tidal wave of epic proportions.

Your knees couldn’t hold themselves up and Rio didn’t bother to stop fucking you, she sped up.

Two. Three, four more orgasms were forced from you until, finally, Rio lowered both of you onto the kitchen floor as you rippled through the aftermath of unrelenting torrents she pushed on you.

She pressed kisses into your hair, fingers still buried into you, and waited for you to come back to her.

You came back to awareness in a vanilla bubble bath, laying against something warm as a sponge rubbed along your arm.

“Hey.”

You turned your head and blinked blearily at Rio then offered a smile and buried your face into the crook of her neck, readjusting your body to be closer to her.

She didn’t stop you, letting the sponge fall into the water and wrapping her arms around you so tightly to encase you in her shield of warmth.

“If you’re up for it,” your wife started, voice husky, “I managed to get us our reservation in tonight.”

You shifted your gaze up to look at her, hers down to you and you smiled as you leaned up to kiss her.

“As long as you don’t keep me waiting again.”

Rio only smiled into the kiss.

[miedei]

what can i do for you?

hiding your relationship doesn't exactly go according to plan, not when you have two good-natured coworkers armed with a magazine. (aka the love languages fic i've been neglecting)

a/n: this has been in my drafts since december omfg. not totally sure how i feel about it but i like it i think!! title's from what can i do by penelope road :)

cw: reader has she/her pronouns, established relationship, sneaking around, lots of fluff, garcia and morgan being super nosy and oblivious at the same time, also reader collects shot glasses in this one because i do that too and what i say goes

wc: 3.3k

mlist

(reblogs are the only way to promote fics on tumblr! please reblog if you enjoyed it :) )

Spencer's hand in yours is warm, warmer than it should be considering the cool breeze that hits as you walk out of the metro station. A rush of giddiness rolls over you, scrutinizing the domestic comfort of this moment.

Four months of whispered affirmations and nights holed up in either of your apartments have led you to feeling more in love with him than you thought was possible. Even just contemplating it brings a rush of blood to your face, forcing you to huddle closer to him, leaning your cheek against the puffy exterior of his coat. 

Without looking, you can feel his shoulders shake in silent laughter, your mind conjuring the image of his lips pressed together, suppressing the giggles you know are threatening to burst out of him. 

“Cold?” The amusement bubbles up in his tone, and you both know that your uncharacteristically shy demeanour has nothing to do with the temperature. His hand comes up to rub at your shoulder comfortingly. He’s awful.

“I hate dating profilers.” Despite your words, your mouth twitches up into a smile.

“Well, I love dating a profiler. And as a profiler, I can tell you do too.” A mock-exasperated sigh leaves your mouth at his words, but you make no move to part from him.

It’s only when the imposing Quantico buildings come into view that you finally step away from him, hand slipping out of his. His lips quirk up as he eyes you. 

“You think they’d be suspicious, us showing up in the elevator at the same time every day.” 

“Don’t jinx it! We’re lucky they haven’t been insinuating themselves into every part of our lives yet.” You step into the elevator, leaning against the wall and staring him down.

“Hey, if they figure it out, did you know it’s statistically more likely that it’ll be because of you? You touch my shoulder on average 17 times a day. Even when we’re on a case.”

“Oh, don’t start. How many times did you almost call me ‘angel’ yesterday? I can’t believe Hotch hasn’t noticed, especially that one time in his office.” It’s gratifying to see the apples of his cheeks redden with embarrassment. 

Stepping into the bullpen, you step away from him, striding to your desk and calling out greetings.

“Morning, guys. What’s that?” 

Emily and Derek are huddled over Garcia, who’s sitting in Derek’s desk chair with a magazine in hand. 

“Well, sweetheart, someone’s missing their monthly Teen Vogue, it’s accidentally been delivered here instead. We’re just catching up on what the young female populace is doing these days.” Garcia answers absentmindedly, their eyes all fixed on the glossy pages.

“Teen Vogue? Need I remind you, we’re in the FBI. Surely you’ve got work to do.” You stare pointedly at the stacks of paperwork piling up on Emily and Derek’s desks.

“If you must know, this is research, kid. How are we supposed to do our jobs if we don’t know the interests of such a huge potential victim pool?” Derek croons over to you, voice sugary-sweet.

Garcia calls out to you. “Did you know that, apparently, even unconsciously, if a person is in love, they will always demonstrate the 5 love languages to whoever they’re into?”

She holds up the magazine, open to a glossy blue page with ‘LOVE LANGUAGES’ etched on it in swirly handwriting.

You can see Spencer tilt his head at his desk, and beat him to the punch. 

“Are you sure that’s true, Penny? Doesn’t seem very statistically sound.”

“There’s actually been very little scientific research done into the concept of love languages as they’re considered colloquially, and what little there is really doesn’t support it as an actual concept that strengthens relationships.” Spencer chimes in, swivelling back and forth in his desk chair as he muses. 

Emily chuckles, wisely retreating to her desk as Penelope and Derek begin to puff up like irritated cats. 

“Yeah? And what would you know about that, pretty boy? Had some experience lately?” 

It’s clearly meant in a joking way, no real accusation behind it, but Spencer’s eyes widen just a fraction. Enough to bring their attention to it. Enough to get them to pounce. 

You shake your head softly, turning to your desk as Derek and Penelope descend on him, peppered questions being met with resolute silence (and occasional sputtering).

It’s a solid 30 minutes before the two of them let up on Spencer, and that’s only because JJ sweeps through with a case for the team. As you all file into the briefing room, it’s clear Penelope and Derek are still scrutinizing Spencer from across the round table. 

As JJ explains the details of the case, you can’t help but smile at the sight of Spencer patting his reddened cheeks, trying to come down from the mortification and stress of fending off the others. 

In a lull in conversation, you rise from your seat, crossing the room to the pot of coffee sitting under the window. Snatching up two distinctive mugs, you set about pouring coffee, adding copious amounts of sugar into one and considerably less into another, as you muse aloud about the case. 

“Sounds like the victimology is pretty clear. Young men in their 20s, all successful academics who have relatively small social circles,” With the two mugs in hand, you return to the table, setting the FBI logo-emblazoned one in front of Spencer with a discreet brush of your knuckles to his shoulder. 

He looks up with a soft smile, nudging his shoulder back into you, mouthing thank you.

“Should help us narrow down who would’ve interacted with them all.” You finish, settling down in your seat in between Rossi and Emily. 

Hotch nods. 

“The local PD’s already got a few people of interest in mind, but they’re holding off on questioning until we arrive. Garcia, you’re coming with us, the victims’ tech is proving difficult for the local experts to get into. Hopefully this will be a quick one. Wheels up in 30.”

There are multiple decisive nods around the table, most of you standing to grab your go-bags.

Notably, Penelope and Derek stay behind, watching you leave the room with unreadable expressions on their faces. 

If you’d stayed, you might have caught her pulling a glossy, torn-out piece of paper out of Derek’s pocket, crossing off a phrase.

The police department you find yourselves in is more sparse than you’d expected. The police force spread thin, there are only a few officers still in the building. The setting sun filters through the blinds, casting a warm glow over the conference room. 

“...So, we’ll spend this evening going through the details, and I’m confident we’ll have a profile by tomorrow morning. Based on that, we can see whether any of your suspects fit.”

Hotch’s no-nonsense voice cuts through the light chatter in the room, and the local captain nods. The two superiors walk out of the room to the captain’s office, leaving you with the rest of your team and a local officer. 

Nodding politely at the officer, you walk over to the large table, digging into the copious boxes of evidence stacked on the table and murmuring your initial thoughts to Emily. 

“The victims were all part of the city’s chess league, save for the second one. That seems significant.”

Before she gets the chance to reply, a brutish officer in uniform butts in, shouldering past Emily to take the seat next to you. 

“So, you guys get a lot of these murder cases, huh? This is pretty huge for us, but I guess it’s everyday for you.”

There’s a glint of morbid curiosity in his eye, leaning into your space as he waits for your answer. 

“Um, yes, we’re assigned to murder cases from time to time. But we also consult on all sorts of crimes, like—”

He waves a hand in the air, as if dismissing your statement.

“Yeah, uh-huh. What’s the craziest murder you’ve seen? You know, the real gory ones.”

He’s scooted closer to you now, his face lit up with excitement. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Spencer start towards you, but you’d rather shut this down yourself.

“I mean, yes, we do see quite a bit of violent crime. But the aim of our unit is to shut it down, not sensationalize it. So, we kind of need all of our attention on this case right now. You understand, right?” You try not to, but a hint of exasperation creeps into your tone.

A flash of irritation sparks in his eyes, but the officer backs down, rising out of the seat and tossing a half-hearted agreement at you. 

You sigh as he leaves the room, and Spencer makes his way over to you with a wry smile. 

“I’m glad you dealt with him, I wouldn’t be able to do it as quickly. You’re always so good at dealing with people like that, ang—” He cuts himself off abruptly, eyes darting around the room nervously. 

Holding in a laugh at his slip up, you nudge his foot under the table.

“Thanks, Spencer. I appreciate that.”

After he not-so-discreetly attempts to see if anyone noticed his failure to maintain the facade, the two of you settle in to the casework.

Notably, Derek only gets to work after holding a hushed conversation with Penelope at her laptop.

Presenting a profile is always exhausting, but doing it first thing in the morning after basically pulling an all-nighter is worse.

You stand in front of the gathered crowd alongside the team, alternating with explaining different aspects of the profile. Once you’re done waxing poetic about the presumed trigger that set off the string of murders, you get to sit back and let Derek do the last bit (thank god).

Leaning against the edge of the desk behind you, you put a lot of effort into looking stoic and professional, hoping the gathered agents and officers can’t see the exhaustion oozing out of you. Although it seems an eternity, it’s probably another five minutes of talking until they’re dismissed, and the team gathers in the conference room. 

Hotch looks surprisingly alert, standing at the head of the table and gesturing to different points of interest on the map mounted on the wall. His voice drones on, your drowsy ears registering each sentence a few seconds after. 

“Prentiss and Rossi, you two stay here and question the suspects that the uniforms are bringing in. There’s probably nothing to it, but give it a try anyway.” 

Resting your hip against the table, you stare bleary-eyed at the various faces tacked on to the whiteboard. Despite the coffee in your hands slowly bringing you back to life, you can’t help but muffle a yawn, your upper body swaying with the force of it. 

“Morgan, JJ, you go down to the local news station, see if the tips they’re receiving are actually any good. One of their reporters has been into the PD every day asking for updates. Find out if it’s anything more than journalistic curiosity.”

Spencer steps up next to you, nudging your shoulder with his. Without saying anything, his eyes lull you into a sense of ease. Looking around to see that everyone’s staring at Hotch, you can’t help but lean into him slightly, the lines of your upper arms melding together until your bodies press against each other pleasantly. 

 A soft sigh leaves his lips, and you’re inclined to agree with him. Just this level of touch has you melting, the tension in your body slowly seeping out of your bones. 

“L/N and I are going to meet with the families of the first and second victims. Reid and Garcia, go to the workplace of the latest victim. His computer system needs your expertise, Garcia, and Reid, you take the time to interview his coworkers about his behaviour before the murder.”

Hotch looks around for everyone’s assent, then nods once more, dismissing everyone to their tasks. 

You and Spencer make sure to part from each other quickly, hoping to evade suspicion. Flashing him a smile, you brush past him, catching his pinky with yours for a split second before you follow Hotch out the door. 

Spencer is left in the conference room, brushing his thumb over his pinky with an absentminded smile, oblivious to the shit-eating grin that’s found itself on Penelope’s face. 

Spencer and Penelope are the last to get back from their assignment, the rest of you gathered in the PD before the sun begins to set. Derek’s sitting at the display along the wall, currently showing the live feed of the suspect in the interrogation room along with Hotch. 

The case is shaping up to be a relatively short one, so if the interrogation goes well, you might be able to spend the night at Spencer’s.

Rossi’s voice joins the soft haze of conversation, and you finally snap out of your head in time to hear the tail end of his statement. 

“...Hotch is pretty sure that Reid will be able to crack him. He’s putting on airs, the only way we'll get him to confess is if he doesn’t perceive any threats to his ego.”

Emily nods from her seat beside you, chiming in. 

“They’ve been gone for a while, has Garcia called?”

JJ grins softly, unlocking her phone to display a message full of angry emojis and very little text. 

“I’m assuming something held them up, but she says they’ll be here pretty soon.”

The room falls into an amiable silence, all of you alternating between getting a headstart on your reports of the case and watching Hotch glare at the suspect. Emily lets out multiple heavy sighs, the the last two days catching up to all of you.

It’s probably another fifteen minutes until Spencer and Penelope finally burst through the doors, the latter looking very huffy.

Rossi throws his hands up in mock exasperation, questioning the pair.

“About time you showed up! What took so long?”

Penelope groans, rolling her eyes and plunking herself down into a chair. 

“I was ready to be here a while ago, but Boy Genius over here felt the urge to browse multiple novelty stores, for god knows what reason, before he deigned to let us come back!”

Her cheeks are flushed, and Derek and JJ quickly devolve into poking fun at her vexation. Rossi quickly stands, grabbing Spencer by the shoulders in preparation to steer him into the interrogation room. However, Spencer slips out of his grasp with a lithe finger held in the air. 

Apologies on the tip of his tongue, he paces across the room to where you’re sitting, hand delving into his pants pocket and emerging with a small object wrapped in brown paper. He comes to a stop next to your chair, bending over your shoulder to snatch up a folder from the desk (one that you know has nothing to do with the interrogation he’s about to perform). As he does so, he takes the opportunity to slip the object in your palm. 

Straightening up with the folder in hand, he moves back over to Rossi as if nothing happened. 

Turning the small, solid object over in your hand, you watch the two of them leave the room with a soft smile on your face. You have an idea what might be in your possession. 

The first time Spencer stayed at your apartment, he’d taken a particular liking to the collection of souvenir shot glasses that you had on your mantelpiece. Once you explained your goal of buying one in every city where you’ve had a case, he’s taken it upon himself to help you. 

Just as you’d suspected, when you sneak a glance at the object under the table, a tiny shot glass with a cartoon cat stares back up at you. 

A rush of affection runs through you, slipping the glass into your bag as you attempt to hold in a smile. 

Among the many sounds currently coming from the frustrated Penelope, one seems to be less angry, and more triumphant.

Thank goodness, Spencer gets through to the suspect in an hour, extracting a confession that will more than nail the suspect in court. Because of that, the entire team now finds themselves on the jet once more, in various states of sleepiness. 

Rossi is knocked out, head leaned against the wall, mouth agape. Hotch is similarly asleep, with JJ and Emily across from him, sharing wired earphones as they both try and get some shuteye. 

Derek and Penelope are sitting on the couch, leaving you and Spencer to claim the table. 

You’re not complaining, not when Spencer’s foot is pressing against yours from the seat across from you, and you can use the excuse of taunting him about the chessboard to hear his melodic voice float over to you.

“What was it Gideon always told you? I don’t think you’re exactly thinking outside the box right now, Spence.”

His eyes dance as he looks up at you, hand hovering over the board. 

“You think so? I think I’ll be done with you in 5 more moves,”

A glint of cockiness reflects in his irises, forcing you to shift in your seat, cheeks flushing. 

The two of you quickly duck your heads though, both of you sucked into the game. 

Low voices murmur compliments and jabs, and his ankle hooks around yours before long, sending a tremor of fondness through your body. 

You’re so focused on the game and Spencer, that you don’t notice how Derek and Penelope have fallen silent. It’s only when Derek scoffs loudly that either of you acknowledge them. Shooting you a look loaded with meaning, he gestures to the kitchenette on the other side of the cabin, motioning for you to follow him there. 

With a confused glance at Spencer, you rise from your seat and trail after Derek, watching Penelope slide into your vacated seat with a determined look on her face. 

Turning to Derek, you’re met with teasing eyes, his eyebrows waggling as he looks at you, arms crossed over his chest. 

“What’s up, Morgan?”

He chuckles, the sound coming from low in his chest as he stares you down.

“Sweetheart, you’re not exactly being subtle.”

A silence follows, as you try and discern what he means. Seemingly getting sick of it, he sighs, launching into speech again.

“If you haven’t noticed, you’ve been acting mighty close to Spencer recently, don’t you think? Making him coffee, playing chess, nearly falling asleep on him. You know what that sounds like to me? A crush.”

He brandishes his phone, the grainy screen showing a familiar blue page. The list of love languages has been marked up, each item crossed out and scrawled handwriting marring the image. 

Barely hiding your disbelief, you stop peering at the phone to stare up at Derek instead.

“You’re bringing up Teen Vogue again? What is this supposed to mean?”

He laughs at your incredulity, slinging an arm around your shoulder to tug you into his side, his other hand coming up to ruffle your hair. 

“Fine, fine, you don’t have to say anything. But I’ll help, sweetheart. If you need to convince the kid to man up and ask you out, I’ve got some strategies.”

You can’t stifle a giggle, not when you look over your shoulder to see Spencer with a harried look on his face, trying to listen to Penelope’s frenzied chatter (she’s louder than she thinks she is, you can hear her say get some flowers, and just ask her!). 

Whatever else she’s saying, you’re sure the two of you will laugh about it later, when you inevitably end the night in his bed.

[buckybabybaby]

always pretty

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (gender neutral)

(established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, Bucky being beautiful, bff Joaquín has 3 lines)

Word count: 1k

*** SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS UNDER THE CUT ***

Plot: you see Bucky with his new hairstyle for the first time

Warnings: none :)

A/N: a small piece inspired by Bucky's hair in the post credit scene because I think we all agree its one of his best looks <3 that and the bit where he took his jacket off were very much for me

I haven't posted a Bucky x reader fic for 4 years now. New content = more inspiration apparently!

I saw thunderbolts on Friday and started this yesterday, it may only be 1000 words but I've never finished a drabble so quickly.

Also a little fix it for the Sambucky plot line </3 I didn't go in to detail as I don't know how they would resolve it, but after bnw I can't have them end like that :(

Masterlist

AO3

***

You sit outside the photography studio, nervous energy preventing you from even being able to scroll through your phone, eyes darting from the door, to the view out the window, to the many posters of previous work on the wall, and back to the door on repeat. It's been hours, but you are determined to wait.

Bucky's first time in his new avengers suit? Yeah, you weren't missing this.

He'd been so anxious this morning and your heart had melted. You understand though. Not only was he having his final fitting of his suit, they were also doing promotional shoots for the many magazines and websites that wanted an interview, so hair, makeup and endless poses were all on the schedule today.

Every time the door opens you look up expectantly, until eventually you see what you've been waiting for.

The new avengers file out, some acknowledging you, others clearly wanting to leave as quickly as possible. Joaquín bounds up to you, ever enthusiastic, showing off his slightly altered falcon suit.

"You like?"

"I love." You grin at him. "Did it go okay?"

He nods, glancing back. "And Bucky did well, managed to tone down the grumpy old man vibes for once."

You make an offended noise, pushing at his chest lightly. "Don't be mean."

His teasing smile is infectious as he guides you towards the studio. "Go find him. He's probably exhausted after having to smile for more than five minutes."

You go to push him again but he's too fast, bidding you goodbye as you enter the doorway. Inside the screens and lighting supports are already being disassembled, staff streaming around you to get the place cleared quickly and making it a struggle to spot Bucky. Eventually you do, facing away from you talking to Sam on the far side of the room. You hesitate to approach, knowing how their friendship has been rocky recently, but then Sam laughs loudly at something Bucky's said, a natural laugh that has you relaxing as you make your way over. Their disagreement was almost as difficult for you as it was for Bucky, a horrible tense episode you don't want to return to anytime soon.

Sam notices you first, leaving Bucky with a final hand shake before pausing next to you on his way out.

"Who knew your man could look so good, huh?"

"And you. I'm sure your solo shots will be the cover photos."

He snorts. "Me and Bucky are cool now, no need to butter me up."

"Oh, I wasn't! I wouldn't-" You splutter before Sam takes pity on you, resting his hand on your shoulder.

"Hey, I'm joking." He squeezes you gently, smile softer now. "See you soon, yeah?"

You nod, watching him go. Turning back to Bucky, you walk over slowly, waiting for him to detect your presence. It takes him longer than usual, you're almost beside him by the time he does, like Joaquín said he must be worn out by all the attention and not quite his usual sharp self.

"Hey doll." He says, tilting his head towards you without getting up.

Moving in front of him, you step into his space to kiss him like always, until you get a good look at his outfit.

And his arm.

And his hair.

You stare. The 'a' on his chest has your own chest tight, knowing how much it means for him to be seen as a hero officially. It doesn't hurt that the top fits perfectly, that both his arms are defined in different ways, that the way they've styled his hair makes him look even more prince-like than ever.

"Is it bad?" He asks when you don't say anything.

"No, no! It's great-lovely-so nice." You rush to reassure him. "Did they blow dry you?"

"I think so? I just sat here and let them work." He shrugs.

"Okay, so you know I love your hair however you do it. But this," You reach out to brush the wave falling over his forehead. "This is my new favourite. You're always so pretty, I'm happy they managed to enhance it like this."

His smiles shyly at the floor, an unusual look for the former winter soldier. You're so endeared to him. This man is well over one hundred years old and a real life super hero, but you can still reduce him to a blushing mess with the right choice of words.

Tilting his head back up, you do kiss him now, only quickly as you need to take the whole look in again. He pouts as you pull away, only adding to his charm. One day you may get used to just how pretty he is, may find a way to not be left breathless just by his existence, not get distracted every time he looks your way.

Today, though, is not that day.

Climbing onto his lap, you bring him into a deeper kiss, feeling his body tense for a second before he relaxes, one arm snaking around your waist to hold you tight. Pressing yourself as close as possible, you can feel every firm edge of his uniform through your clothes, thoughts turning filthy in record time.

You break the kiss with a gasp to ask, "Are you allowed to take the suit home?"

"Oh?" He seems surprised but not displeased by the shift in mood. "It's like that is it?"

You whine in answer, not caring that the room is still very busy. Bucky cups your face to get a clear look at you, smirking as he sees how far gone you are just from a few kisses.

"I can take the suit home," He tells you, making you giggle in excitement. "Probably shouldn't mess it up too much too early, though. I know how you get"

You frown. "I can control myself."

"No you can't, sweetheart," Bucky argues correctly.

"Well, at least don't brush your hair through," You demand, delicately repositioning the loose strands around his face. "That is the best part."

"I can do that." His mouth meets yours again, briefly letting you get a taste of him before he releases you. Standing up, he drags you with him towards the exit, smiling cheekily over his shoulder. "Let's go prove how much you really like it."

***

Thank you for reading!

***

Masterlist

AO3

[colorlessjay]

hello! may be a weird request but do you have any fanfic recommendations?

BUCKLE THE FUCK UP

OH DO I HAVE SOME RECS FOR YA'LL

Mind you, 90% are based on personal preference and fics I think about way too often than I should. A lot of them influenced the way I make characters interact

Some of them might not be your taste and that's cool!

First off, Gotta promote the fics that people wrote inspired by my art (I am truly honored)

Time Cast A Spell On You by bethefirstwhoeverdid

Cabin of Feathers by Featherpie (Izupie)

Return To The Past by faeryn

NOW FOR MY COLLECTION

Just any fic written by everandanon

I swear to you, all of their fics are worth a read. They are frustrating (In a good way for me) but the worldbuilding, comedy, dialogue, and character interactions always have me physically getting up and laughing. At one point during Quarentantion, I had to stop reading to rant to my friends about it because it made me feel so much that I went to 3 different friends about it. With Interest actually made my heart physically hurt at certain points. Expectations had me on a roller coaster ride But if you think their fics are a little overwhelming, I recommend reading Casicorn. It's the first ever fic I read from them and it solidified my love for this author. I swear I am on my hands and KNEES waiting for them to finish their newest fic

Where All My Journeys End - (a Twist and Shout alt universe) by Say_It_In_Enochian

Did reading Twist and Shout devastate you? Did it emotionally hurt your heart and make you wish there was something to make the pain lighter? READ THIS FUCKING FIC NOW I got so fucking lucky when I found it immediately after reading T&S and when I tell you the JOURNEY this fic took me? It healed my soul The struggles, the history, the relationships, the LONG fight to get to their happy ending I am FLOORED this doesn't have 1000 Kudos!

The Ed Sheeran Effect by tricia_16

It made me laugh. That's it. It's sweet and funny and really fun and just feels very campy, like it could've been a decent movie I would rewatch on days I just feel like feeling good Am I a sucker for HighSchool/College AU fics? Yes do I fucking care? No

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot)

I. fucking. love. this. fic The story alone was so interesting but it was the DIALOGUE that hooked me in. I swear I think about this fic in the middle of drawing and go "Damn, good times" like it's a long lost friend

Slide Away by Castielslostwings

It's the TENSION that got me. I can't explain to you how much I just love their hate-pining for each other Read it, love it, in my digital bookshelf

Sleep Without You by turningthepages

Hilarious. The density is so high it could float. I swear to god I've read this fic at least three times and think about it once a week I remember reading it and cackling so much that I woke up my mom

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche)

I wish this fic had a follow-up that was just Dean's perspective because I would LOVE to read more of it. The situation is so absurd and I binged it all in one day (I'm a very slow reader)

Pinfall by crowleyo

I'm gonna say it. I'm so actually angry this fic doesn't get enough attention. It is so so SO well-written and heart-wrenching. Am I still a sucker for highschool sweethearts? YES! I OPENLY ADMIT THIS! But COME ON

Of fuming and partaking and so on by zation

This fic and literally any fic from Zation. I absolutely love the way this author writes. It's so funny and self-aware and the dialogue and scenarios always keep me entertained and laughing They have such a large catalog of fics that I'm pretty sure I have at least 15 saved on my phone

Mr. Blue Sky by anyrei, queerwolf79

This fic specifically and literally ANYTHING from these two. I swear, a lot of their fics are certified bangers. Mr. Blue Sky is probably a personal favorite of mine cause I actually teared up

Love Me More by Saiorse_Irvyne

I'm not the biggest fan of A/B/O stuff, but MAN this has me feeling things. When a fic makes me feel strong emotions, I just gotta recommend it

Lock and Key by tricia_16

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's THAT good

Kind Of A Forever Deal by komodobits

It's FUN. It's FUNNY. It's so fucking campy and cute and the progression of their relationship was just AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

It's Always the End of the World Somewhere by Annie D (scaramouche)

I can sit here and recommend Annie D's fics all DAY, but I'm recommending this one specifically because of this: “Get a room, assholes,” someone mutters. “Hey!” Crowley whirls on the offender. “I could set on you on fire!” And that's one of many fantastic quotes

Cinderwings by bendingsignpost

One of the first fics I've ever read from this fandom, and I recommend it to ANYONE regardless of whether they know Destiel or not. The story is so fucking captivating it makes me want to eat my foot it's so GOOD

--------------

Do I have a type when it comes to fanfics? Yes

But I like gravitating towards funny dialogue and silly shenanigans. I thrive off of fun fics that sometimes take themselves seriously, but still pull me back and make me laugh

If a fic can make me feel such a strong emotion that I PHYSICALLY have to get up? Then fuck yeah it's going in my archives

I would recommend some of the darker fics I have, but this is for fun

[squoxle]

pls write a jay dad au and wife😔🙏🏻

Well, since you asked so nicely...how about we start your day with a little...

Coffee After Sex ~ P.JS

☕︎ pairing: soft dom!husband!jay x sub!wife!reader | ☕︎ wc: 3.3k | ☕︎ plot: after a recent job promotion, you have been spending less and less time with your husband. | ☕︎ cw: 🔞MDNI!! this fic contains a combo of smut, fluff, crack, and angst with a hot cup of coffee in the morning.

The feeling of Jay's breath on your neck sent chills up your spine as he left soft, wet kisses along your neck.

You felt his warmth against your body, a sensation you had missed for far too long.

Nothing could take the place of him at this moment.

Nothing...except for the fact that this was all a dream and Jay had left you alone in bed hours ago. You looked over to the spot where he laid next to you and brushed your hand across the cool, empty space.

You pulled his pillow to your chest as you laid in silence, the delicate rays from the sun peeked through the blinds hidden behind the floor-length white curtains. Tears rolled down the side of your face, wetting the pillow slightly as sweet thoughts of him flashed through your mind.

You thought back to the last time you took a family vacation, the twins were a little younger at that time, but you still had fun playing in the sparkling beach sand. You rolled onto your back, looking up at the ceiling before climbing out of bed.

The cold floorboards kissed your feet as you walked to a pair of fluffy slippers. A lot of times it was easier to just keep yourself busy, focusing on the present rather than going into a mini depressive state. But you couldn't help it, you missed his laugh, his smile, the smell of him cooking breakfast on the weekends, and the way he'd come up behind you and kiss you randomly...some of the many things you loved about him.

Recently your husband's work schedule has been a lot busier than usual. He left earlier in the morning and came home even later.

You'd hope to spend some time with him on the weekends, but it was hard to balance everything with the twins and all of the other things you had to do around the house. Plus, he spent most of the day in the home office anyway. And by the time he came home in the evening, you were already in bed.

But what could you do about it? "This'll just be for a little while and then everything will be back to normal," you thought back to what Jay told you when he first took this promotion. His fingers gliding across the side of your face, brushing the hair behind your ear as your head hung low. He lifted your chin gently to meet your eyes before delicately kissing your lips.

A little while...a lot of times his absence made you feel like a single mom, but you had to stay positive. If not for you, for the kids. Seeing their mom sulking all day wouldn't do them any good.

Today you took the kids out for a trip to the library and picked up a few books before walking over to the nearby park. You sat on the bench and watched them play around together, chasing each other in a game of tag before taking turns pushing one another on the swings.

You saw Jay sit on one of the swings as the twins took turns pushing him. "Argh! You're too heavy, Daddy," your daughter sighed.

"You're just too weak," your son teased, giggling slightly as his sister puffed her cheeks.

"I am not!" she spat. "Watch," she grunted as she pushed with all of her might. Jay used his legs to swing a little higher. "See?" she smiled, tilting her head to the side as she placed her hands on her hips. "Told ya."

"No, I saw Dad use his legs," Jay burst into laughter noticing that his son had picked up on that detail.

"No, he didn't," she shook her head. "Did you Daddy?"

"No, you're just really strong," he chuckled as he swung back and forth.

"He's lying," your son said plainly, folding his arms as his sister stomped over to him, careful not to get hit by the swing.

"Okay," she huffed. "I'll show you how strong I am," she raised her fist at her brother.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he squeezed his fists together, cracking his knuckles.

"Woah, woah, guys calm down," Jay stopped the swing, breaking up the two. "Don't hit your brother, baby," Jay kneeled down to meet her gaze.

"Nah nah," your son poked his tongue out.

"But he just--" she started as Jay cut her off.

"Leave your sister alone. And we don't hit girls in this family, okay," he patted his son's shoulder. "How about I push the both of you? There're two swings."

"No, we wanna push you," they said in unison.

"Well, you gotta play nice, alright," he exchanged looks between the two.

"Okay~" they smiled before running behind him.

"You can push him first and then me, okay," your son said, making a deal with his sister.

"Okay," she smiled. "Hurry up, daddy. Sit down," she jumped excitedly as Jay sat down, waiting to be pushed.

Their little grunts mixed with his laughter caused your nose to tingle as tears gathered at your waterline. It was as if you could see Jay everywhere, but it was all just your imagination trying to fill that void for you.

You used the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness from your eyes before walking over to join the kids in whatever game they were playing.

After a busy day, you finally had the chance to relax after laying the kids down for bed. You ended up reading two of the books you picked up earlier since they couldn't decide on one. You flicked on the carousel nightlight before walking out of the room, leaving the door cracked enough that you could peek in and check on them without disturbing them.

Your husband, Jay, had texted you around lunchtime that he would be working late again tonight, but he'd try to get home as soon as possible.

This had been going on for the past few months and you were starting to miss him more than ever, but you didn't want to stress him out with your feelings so this was something you kept to yourself.

You went over a mental checklist to make sure you took care of everything before getting ready for a bath. You walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to double-check that you packed a lunch box for Jay before switching off all of the lights and heading back to your room.

You started the bathwater as you shuffled through your drawers to pull out an oversized T-shirt. You climbed into the warm water and thought back to your dream from this morning.

You wished you could spend more time with him like you used to. Wished he could be sitting behind you right now with his arms wrapped around you, kissing your shoulder, and playing with the bubbles that floated on top of the water.

You rested your head on the cool, smooth, acrylic outer surface of the bathtub as music played through your headphones. You closed your eyes and drifted away in your mind as you felt a set of lips leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Jay?" you thought to yourself. You opened your eyes and turned around in the water to see nothing but your king-sized bed peeking through the door. "Must my mind playing tricks on me again," you sighed as you turned around to lay your head back down.

Soon after you zoned out in your music, you felt a hand glide along the side of your face. This time you felt kisses trail from your cheek down to your shoulder. You opened your eyes to see Jay hovering over you.

He was wearing his black work slacks and a plain white tee. You felt his warm hands press into the soft, moist skin on your shoulders. “Hope you don’t mind if I join,” he smirked as you turned around.

“Not at all,” you smiled back, watching as he undressed himself.

“Don’t think you’re getting this show for free,” he chuckled. “A view like this can be pretty pricey y’know?”

“I’m sure I can afford it,” you giggled back.

You loved how your husband liked to joke around here and there. This was one aspect about his personality that made you fall for him in the first place.

You turned off your phone and reached over to place it on the countertop near the sink. Bubbles covered the lower half of your body, but the silhouette was still very visible.

“Nice ass,” Jay smiled as he eyed your naked body. He was only wearing his boxers now, the rest of his clothes were kicked in a corner and balled up.

You shook your head in response as he stepped into the bath water. “C’mere,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you close. It was quiet for a moment as you laid against his slightly wet skin before reality set in.

“What’s with the sudden change of attitude? You’ve been so quiet lately,” you toyed with the wedding band around his finger as you laid between his legs.

“I missed my wife,” he said softly, pulling your hand to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. “And my kids.”

“Hmm, well we missed you too,” you hummed.

You listened to the deep, rhythmic beats of his heart as you rested your head against him. Aside from the warmth of the water, you missed the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

Were you finally getting what you’d been waiting months for? To feel the strong embrace of your husband and the comfort that came with it? Whatever it was, you wanted to enjoy every last second of it.

You felt his breath on your neck as he rested his chin in the crevice of your shoulder. "Hey!" you exclaimed as you felt his fingers rub against your clit. He giggled at your reaction.

"Has it really been so long that my touch surprises you," he mumbled in between kisses.

"No, I just--"

"I'm kidding," he chuckled. "I'd be shocked if you touched me like that too."

A playful smirk grew across your face as you grinded your ass against him, the gentle sounds of the water matching the movements of your body. He groaned slightly as you stimulated him. "Are you shocked yet," you whispered, looking over your shoulder as you met his lustful gaze.

"Almost," he smiled, kissing your lips again. "I wanna see what else you can do," he bit your lower lip before you turned around to face him. He raised his knees up to get a little more comfortable as his back pressed up against the walls of the tub.

You straddled his wet body, the water level at your waist as you leaned over his shoulder. He pulled you closer as he lined his tip up with your opening. You slowly lowered down, taking in every inch as he held you by the waist.

The strokes were slow, but this gave you the chance to watch his facial expression contort as you bounced up and down. You teased his cock as you paused randomly, flashing him a playfully seductive glare.

"Are you gonna be a tease the whole time or are you gonna fuck me like a good girl?" he cooed. "I thought you liked it when I played with you like that," you tilted your head to the side as his lips turned into a smirk. He winced, sucking air through his teeth as you circled your hips around his tip. You pressed your hands into his shoulders as you plopped back down on him, filling yourself with his cock.

The water rocked with your hips, matching your movements, filling the room with its delicate splashing sounds. "Mmm, I do but," he moaned as you took this as an opportunity to pick up the pace.

"But what, baby?" you huffed. "But, I wanna fuck you so badly right now," he groaned. "You'll get your turn," you smiled. "I wanna have a little more fun like this," he hummed as you said these words, you could feel the desperation increase with every movement.

You listened as soft, sweet moans escaped his lips while you rode him. Every so often you would hit his good spot, causing him to throw his head back and lift his hips up slightly to buck into you.

His breathing quickened and began more ragged as you changed the speed and movements of your body. He felt your pussy tighten around him as you both came closer to your highs. You leaned back slightly, bracing yourself against his raised knees as he pressed into your lower stomach.

You felt his thumbs pushing hard into your soft flesh as you nearly toppled over. The overwhelming and increased sensation of dick sent you into a mode of overstimulation as you humped faster. Matching your energy, Jay raised his hips to pump deeper into you as muffled screams hid behind your hand.

You knew you had to stay quiet because you had a habit of getting carried away with the noise. "I've had enough of this," Jay huffed, guiding you off of him as he leaned you over the edge of the tub. You held your position with your palms as your tits pressed into the coolness of the acrylic layer.

You leaned your head across your hands as you waited for him. You were facing the door as you heard the sounds of him moving behind you. Your eyes jumped open as he spread your legs apart. You felt the top of his head bump into your stomach before the feeling of his tongue lapping at your entrance overwhelmed your senses.

"Ngh!" you yelped, in this position it was a little harder to cover your mouth so you just stuffed your face into the fold of your arms. "Ahh!" you gasped as he jammed his fingers into you, coating them in your juices as continued eating you out.

He finger fucked you faster as you leaned more and more over the edge. You were struggling to stay in one spot as he gripped onto your ass, holding you in place as nearly came right on his face. You caught your breath as he ripped his fingers out and climbed out from between your legs.

"I want you to finish with my cum inside of you," he hummed as he lined up behind you. You moaned, faced still stuffed into your arms, as he slammed his dick into you. "Already tightening up?" he cooed as he felt your entrance had tightened up slightly compared to earlier.

"It's my turn now," he hummed, grabbing a handful of your hair in his hand before pulling your head back to face him. "Look at me while I fuck you," he groaned as one hand wrapped around the base of your chin, squeezing your lips together.

You panted breathlessly as fucked into you harder. "Who's pussy is this," he smacked your ass as you moaned with his touch. "Say it," he pushed, taking his free hand to rub your clit. Your body trembled in his grasp "You better say something or I'll stop right now," he huffed.

"It's yours," you yelped. "It's yours, baby," you whined in a shaky voice before he sucked your lips in for a rough kiss.

"Good girl," he grunted as he pushed your head down. You felt his hips smacking into your ass as he groaned in pleasure. He kept up the pace until finally spilling his seed inside of you.

The two of you laid there breathless, panting with your wet bodies, both from sweat and the water that swayed beneath you. It wasn't long before you climbed out of the tub and went straight to bed, naked and slightly damp, especially Jay's hair which got wet when he ate you out.

As much as you enjoyed that little surprise with Jay, you hated the feeling that came over you once he finally fell asleep. You looked over his features, lightly touching his face as you thought about how he'd be gone in the morning...just like always.

Your husband was starting to feel like another part of your imagination, every good moment being tainted by the feeling of abandonment. You closed your eyes looking at him with tears in your eyes as you drifted off to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open as the colors of the sun danced across your bedroom floor. As usual, you woke up to see the covers pushed back on his side, reminding you that you were alone again. You sat up before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You slipped into a pair of panties from your top drawer before pulling a dress over your head and sliding into your slippers.

Interrupting your senses, was the smell of breakfast. You stopped as your hand wrapped around the bedroom doorknob, you listened as the sounds of hushed giggles and food sizzling filled the air around you.

You hoped with everything in your body that this wasn't your mind playing tricks on you again, you weren't sure how much more you could take. But when you opened the door to see the kids huddled over the countertop as Jay swirled a skillet on the stove, you had to blink a few times before realizing that this was really happening.

You slowly walked into the kitchen as Jay welcomed you with a smile. "Good morning, Mommy!" your kids smiled in unison.

"Morning," you waved as you walked over to them, planting a kiss on each of their heads. "What's all of this?"

"We're helping, Dad make breakfast," your son smiled. "I made your coffee."

"I put all the stuff on the pancakes," your daughter chimed in as Jay placed the eggs and bacon on the place.

"Yeah, but you didn't make them," her brother teased.

"I made one," she huffed.

"And where is it now, huh? Oh, that's right, in the trash," he giggled.

"Well, you put salt in the first cup you made for mom. So now who sucks," she poked her tongue out.

"Calm down you guys, you both did a great job. Especially for your first time," Jay smiled as he came behind them, patting them both on the shoulder before coming over to kiss you on the cheek. "We were gonna surprise you in bed," he chuckled.

"Wait, Jay. Don't you have work today?"

"I did," he started as he walked over to the table, placing your breakfast down. "But I called in. I wanted to spend some time with my family today."

The kids climbed onto their barstool as Jay passed them their breakfast. "Thank you," they smiled before they started eating.

"Jay," you gasped. "You didn't have to do that. What if they needed you at work today?"

"Well, my family needs me more. Especially my wife," he tilted his head to the side as he sat down next to you. "This morning," he started in a hushed tone, "When I was about to get out of bed you grabbed my arm and said 'Please don't leave me again.' Your eyes were still closed so I knew you were sleeping, but there was no way in hell I could go to work after something like that."

He reached over to grab your hand, caressing the back as you lowered your head. "Sorry," you whispered quietly.

"Don't be sorry. If I hadn't been working so hard I would've noticed how this change was affecting you sooner. I already contacted my boss about another position and we'll see how it goes from there, but for now, let's enjoy this moment together. Just me, you, and the kids."

❀ Thak you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa