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#i let the employee grab it for me
suashii · 8 months
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today was all vibes and then i went on and broke my phone charger :/ went to buy a new one and bought the wrong one :/ now i have to exchange it tomorrow after class :/
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orcelito · 5 months
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I think the nice thing is that I was not violently angry today like I was yesterday. I was just #SadboyHours for nearly my entire shift bc I was on shift alone for most of it, and that is not very fun on new years day :(
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croc-odette · 1 year
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i never smoke weed unless someone offers it to me so i was like ‘oh i’ll casually buy some edibles for father’s day’ and walked into the store and immediately it’s an anteroom with a security guard and a second security guard with a bulletproof vest and a gun? and i was like oh......... okay different energy than i was expecting
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mrscrocombe · 24 days
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Started watching that film Burnt from 2015 and jfc I don't remember ever seeing a main character that unlikable
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luveline · 9 days
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hotch's sister x spencer where hotch notices she's wearing spencer's clothes?
—You and Spencer get one another in trouble with your older brother. fem!reader, 1k
Your brother, though you’re adopted, has passed down onto you many things. Mostly his frown, but more embarrassingly his high-pitched giggle when something is startlingly funny. 
You laugh like a hyena at something Spencer’s said. He tries to grab you before you walk straight into his desk corner, but he’s too slow. You whack your hip and laugh again, this time in pain, bending over to grab at your wound in defeat. 
“Oh my god,” he says, trying not to laugh loudly, his efforts turning his own laugh into a giggle like yours as he bends down to see you, “are you okay?” He laughs so much he can barely ask. “Are you okay?” 
“I’m fine,” you squeeze between a laugh, letting him pull you into a standing position. 
“What is it?” he asks, grabbing your hip, which worsens your laughter all over again. “What?” 
“You’re super handsy, Dr. Reid.” 
A sharp clearing of the throat echoes. You tense up, begging Spencer mentally not to give you away, but his hand practically flies back into his chest like you’ve burned him. 
You turn to the office. “Hi, Aaron.” 
Aaron Hotchner stands at the balcony overlooking the bullpen where you and Spencer stand. “Honey. Just give me two minutes and I’ll come down, okay?” 
You give a big smile. “Yes, sir.” 
His eyes move to Spencer. You watch Aaron decide to leave it alone and can’t help laughing for the hundredth time today as your brother turns around to head back into his office.
“He’s ridiculous.” 
“He’s gonna fire me,” Spencer says, though he doesn’t sound serious. 
“And then you can come work with me.” 
Spencer doesn’t want to work at your new job, that much is clear from his expression, but he has enough social wits to realise you’re flirting. “That wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world,” he says.
Spencer leans back against his desk, hair curled just under his ears, his hand reaching for you though he doesn’t touch. You sit down in his seat, the backs of your thighs sticking to warm leather. You aren’t working today, hence your social visit, and Spencer had distracted you on the way to Aaron’s office (through no fault of his own, you’d just wanted to see him again) with a shy wave. Like you hadn’t spent yesterday night together walking through fountains. 
You didn’t mean to fall in. Spencer helped you up onto the round basin of the fountain and you’d held hands, walking in circles so he’d have an excuse to keep rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. Seconds turned to minutes, the conversation unhurried, and one wrong move had you slipping. You fell calf deep into cold water, but his laughter had been worth it. 
“What are you thinking about?” he asks. 
You cross one leg over the other, your jean leg riding up your shin. “I’m thinking about what Aaron’s gonna buy me for lunch.” 
“What do you want?”
“I have no idea. It’s so hot out I barely wanna eat.” 
“Well, too bad, you have to.” He picks up a file from his outgoings and fans it at you nicely. When he talks again, his voice is lowered. “I was thinking, if you’re not busy, they have a movie playing in a couple of days at the independent, I think it’s in Portuguese, and I really think you’d like it.” 
“Yeah?” you ask, lavishing in the cold kiss of his manufactured breeze and the idea of another date. 
“About a little girl that turns into a star. They have popcorn bigger than anywhere else I’ve seen, too. Enough for three people in one bucket.” 
You try not to act too shy. “Well, hopefully it’s just me and you.” 
Spencer smiles at you between waves of his fan. “Is your hip okay?” he asks. 
“Spencer.” 
“Are you ready?” Aaron asks. 
You spin in Spencer’s chair toward your brother, shocked he’s there. He’s been funny since you and Spencer met, never controlling or cruel, yet clearly having a tough time coming to grips with the connection you’ve formed with his smartest employee. 
When you told him Spencer had given you his number, his eye twitched ever so slightly, and he excused himself for a glass of water. You’re not sure what is about the situation that irks him: he loves you, he loves Spencer in his way, he’d do anything for both of you, except acknowledge your burgeoning relationship. 
You nod but don’t stand. Your hip aches weirdly and the sitting is nice. Plus, it’s a sisterly duty to wind up her brother, even if you love him more than anybody on planet earth. 
“Spencer was just telling me about your accident in Scottsdale.” 
“He was,” Hotch says. He looks at you, and his eyes follow down the line of your leg to your shoes, where they stay. 
You glance down. 
“I’m trying something new,” you say, sitting up quickly. Scottsdale doesn’t seem so funny. 
“I can see that.” 
You’re wearing Spencer’s socks, odd ones sticking up past his borrowed converse. “It’s summer,” you say, standing up. 
“Mm.” He gestures for you to stand in front of him, his hand on your shoulder kind but firm as he steers you away. “And the odd socks, that’s a conscious choice?” 
“Don’t be mean.” 
“I’m not.” 
You glance back at Spencer and grin at him as you’re shepherded away. Hopefully he’ll call you later, but for now he looks like he’d like to dig himself a shallow grave.
“We went for a walk last night and I ruined my shoes,” you explain, turning your gaze to Aaron and his reluctant smile. “They were still wet this morning.” 
“What about those loafers I got you for your birthday?” he asks. 
“Well, I didn’t have them with me.” 
Aaron nods. There’s a certain impassiveness to his expression that you’re familiar with, even if it signifies disappointment. That you’re not so used to. 
“I thought you liked Spencer?” you ask. 
“I do. But I love you, and he’s…” 
“He’s what?” 
“At risk.” 
“You’ll just have to keep him safe for me,” you say, smiling at him breezily. 
Aaron seems to agree silently. You’re almost to the elevators when he says, “Please, wear your own socks. I know you know how to do your laundry, I’m the one who taught you how to do it.” 
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pierregazly · 2 months
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tying you to me ꨄ max verstappen
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max verstappen x reader
warnings: sweet max, random coincidences to lovers trope, happy ending [wc: 4.3k]
[4 times] in which something coincidentally led back to max, and the [1 time] it turned out nothing was just a coincidence (in which everything has always tied max to you).
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Time, curious time  Gave me no compasses, gave me no signs  Were there clues I didn't see? 
It felt like a never-ending nightmare. 
One thing after another, one bad day after another, one bad week after the next. It felt like it was never going to end. 
The person that was supposed to be that person, the man that was supposed to be forever, the person that was going to be standing at the end of the aisle... leaving with a simple apology and a ‘I’m sorry, it’s me, not you’... it was incomprehensible.  
It had been weeks, and you still couldn’t wrap your head around what had gone wrong. Was he telling the truth? Was it really him? Or was it you? Had you done something wrong? Had it been you that caused the blunder? The inevitable demise?  
Everyone had been adamant that it wasn’t you, it was so evident it wasn’t meant to be. Nothing connected to him, there were no signs pointing to him being the one, there was no inevitable connection. But even with those words of affirmation, it didn’t change the internal feelings, the internal heartbreak that felt like it was never going to end. 
All you ever wanted was that connection, that string, that feeling, that pulled you to another person, that proved they were the person meant to be for you. It was devastating to think back and know that it was so obvious, he just wasn’t that person. 
The coffee shop you currently sat in had become a morning staple after the last few weeks. After coming back to Monaco for a much-needed reprieve from the rest of the world, the little coffee shop nestled into the charming walls of Monte-Carlo had become a necessary distraction to the outside. 
The employees all knew you by name now, often passing by the table and inquiring about your day, inquiring about the book you were reading, or the work assignment shown on your computer screen. Always engaging in polite conversation back, it was one of your favourite places to be. 
People-watching was the only negative of it. The loving couples who passed through, all cuddled up together as they ordered their drinks for their walk throughout the city, the older couples who sat just tables away and reminisced on their lives together. It was the only thing that drove you crazy about the charming little shop.  
Watching them occupied your thoughts more time’s than you cared to admit. Daydreaming and losing focus on the outside world was a commonality, especially in the little coffee shop. 
It was exactly where you found yourself currently, your eye’s peering to the left as you watched an older man place his hand over who you assumed to be his wife’s hand. Their wedding bands shining brightly in the Monaco sun, soft smiles on their faces as they peered at one another, your heart begging to be let out of this turmoil, begging you to turn away and focus on something else, anything else. 
Its wish was granted when you felt the cold of a drink begin to sink into your shirt, instantly soaking your skin, a gasp of shock falling from your lips. 
“Oh god, I am so sorry. I just turned around and you were right there, let me grab some cloths, please.” 
You knew instantly it was your own fault, you hadn’t been paying attention, more focused on the elderly couple, prompting the person in front of you to spill their... was that Red Bull? On your shirt? 
“Is this Red Bull?”  
The man in front of you grimaced as he handed you the dry cloths, a small smile falling across his lips while his eyes crinkled with the movement of his face. A bit of a cute look, you thought to yourself while beginning to dab at your shirt as the smell of the energy drink wafted up your nose. 
“Yes, I’m so sorry. I don’t drink coffee often, but my sister wanted to stop here because she had heard good things, I was just waiting for her drink while she took a quick call outside. I really only drink Red Bull in public when I have to, or when I’m getting paid to. I thought it was her behind me when I whipped around like that, I’m so sorry. Please, can I buy you a coffee as an apology? Or a tea?” 
You weren’t entirely sure if the rambling was out of nerves that you were going to overreact over the spilt drink, or if he just simply felt like he owed it to you to explain the entire incident and how it came about in full description. 
The frustration that was brewing was not at all a fault of the cute man in front of you, but an accumulation of days of sadness, an irregular appetite, and just a combination of heartbreak. 
Trying to keep the tears of frustration at bay, you instantly shook your head towards the cute man in front of you. “Thank you, but no. Obviously this is a sign I need to go home, sorry for spilling your drink.” 
Before he could get the chance to say anything back, you were forcing yourself to rush out of the coffee shop before an outburst could erupt from inside of you. You hadn’t even noticed the look of intrigue that the Dutchman gave you. 
Bad was the blood of the song in the cab  On your first trip to LA  You ate at my favorite spot for dinner 
The memory of the handsome Dutchman in the small coffee shop left your mind not long before the happy memories of your ex-boyfriend finally forced themselves out of your head. Things had finally begun looking up, the more time you spent with your friends, the more time you spent focusing on work and the hopeful promotion that would come with it. 
Although, your boss had insisted you take a few weeks off, citing the fact you were there more than anyone she knew, and that burnout was inevitable if you didn’t take the much deserved and obligated time off. The amount of overtime and banked hours allowing you to take the time off with full pay just made it easier to agree. 
Which was exactly how you found yourself just south of Zurich, the snow whipping past your face as the ski lift ascended higher and higher up the mountain. Your friends giggled beside you, smiles lighting up everyone’s faces. 
Winter break, although cold and snowy, was always a fan favourite amongst your friend group. It was exhilarating, you hadn’t had the chance to attend the annual ski trip while you were with your ex-boyfriend, he hated skiing and anything including winter sports.  
It’s what made the trip even better, getting the chance to catch up with your friends and their partners, the chance to laugh, and drink, and just smile again. It was all worth it.  
The group of guys in the ski lift behind obviously had the same idea, hooting and hollering at each other as the ski lift continued its ascent. You couldn’t decipher what they were saying, the words in a different language, but the name ‘Max’ seemed to be a commonality. Maybe someone was missing their dog while on vacation? Who knows.  
After hours of skiing, the alcohol in the ski lodge was flowing. The laughter and happiness from every group was prevalent, everyone there was so obviously happy to get away from the real world. It’s what places like that were for. 
“That guy over there can’t stop looking at you,” jostled out of your thoughts by one of your friends, you followed her head inclination to one of the tables a few rows down, a familiar face looking back at you inquisitorially.  
It took you a second to place his face, the day in the coffee shop floating back to your mind prompting a small laugh to fall from your lips.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull all over me when I ran into him in the coffee shop in Monaco, remember?” 
It had been a running joke, a typical meet-cute in a coffee shop, but instead of spilt coffee... a spilt Red Bull.  
“That’s the guy who spilt the Red Bull on you?” 
One of your friend’s boyfriends gaped at you, as he continuously maneuvered his look between you and the man in question. Nodding your head, he continued to gape at you. 
“Don’t you know who that is?” Giving him a look, you shook your head. 
“That’s the Max Verstappen. Three-time Formula 1 World Champion? Dutch God? Second-coming of the Formula 1 Jesus?” 
You recognized the name, having heard it at the few races you had attended, but you never would’ve been able to place the name to the face otherwise. 
A laugh erupted from one of the other members of the group, a shove directed at the other man. “I think you've got Verstappen mixed up with Lewis Hamilton.”  
“He’s kinda cute, huh?” One of the girls pointed out to you, a small giggle falling from her lips as she looked over towards the man in question, his eyes meeting yours as you looked in his direction again. 
His hair was flopped over, obviously a combination of a long day wearing a ski helmet and a hat, mixed with the combination of the sweat and heat that engulfed the inside of the lodge made him look even more attractive. Windswept, tipsy, and overall, just happy. 
“So much better than that last loser.” A mutual agreement of ‘yes’, ‘obviously’, and ‘fucking no wonder’, floated throughout your group at your friend’s words. 
Shrugging them off, you just laughed and pushed the conversation in another direction and away from the man sitting across the room, who seemed as if he couldn’t take his eyes off you at all. 
As the night started to dwindle down, you bid goodnight to the remaining group of friends and started your route back to your room. 
“At least I have nothing to spill on you tonight.” 
Directing your gaze to the voice at hand, your eyes made direct contact with the blue irises of Max Verstappen.  
Quirking an eyebrow at him as a small laugh left your lips, “I’m sure the bars fully stocked with drinks you could spill on me. You’re just not trying hard enough.” 
A loud guffaw fell from the man’s mouth, his hands instinctively covering his mouth as he laughed. You couldn’t help the heat that grew on your cheeks at his reaction, his smile directed towards you when he finally moved his hands from his face. 
“I’m so very sorry. Next time I run into you, I’ll try to make sure I have a full drink in hand to spill on you.” 
“Oh, you plan on running into me again?” 
Shrugging his shoulders with a small grin, the Dutchman just laughed. “Well, I ran into the person I spilt a Red Bull in a coffee shop on in one of my favourite places in Switzerland, I’m sure I’m bound to run into you again. Things happen in three’s, don’t they?” 
Max ran a hand through his hair as he smiled at you, before either of you could get the chance to say anything else, one of his friends was clapping a hand against his shoulder with a boisterous laugh. 
“Time to get out of here, mate. Say goodnight to the pretty girl,” he said. 
You felt your cheeks heating again, as Max smiled at you in farewell, a small wave from both of you any indication of goodbye as you both walked away. 
Time, mystical time  Cuttin' me open, then healin' me fine  Were there clues I didn't see? 
F1 race weekends were as fun as they were busy. Any race you had attended since you were an intern was always focused primarily on working. Getting the opportunity to attend a race with your friends, in Melbourne, without having to worry about work or advertising, or anything else, was obviously the best way to spend it. 
Lou, one of your friends linked her arm with yours as she basically skipped through the hospitality area, pointing out the different garages as she got a glimpse of them. Her boyfriend, Nick, had gotten both of you passes through his own work, a long-term employee of McLaren meant that the both of you had been spoiled for the weekend. 
"Maybe you’ll end up running into Max again, imagine? A third little meet-cute,” she said, with a giggle.  
Rolling your eyes at her, you just laughed as she grinned back. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! It’s totally possible, I’m sure Nick could totally convince Lando to convince Max to pass by the garage or the hospitality. We could totally orchestrate it.” 
“Babe, it’s pure coincidence I’ve run into the guy more than once. I’m not like... going out of my way to run into Max Verstappen.” 
Huffing back at you, Lou sent a mock pout in your direction as she continued to drag you through the hospitality center. Passing a stand full of travel cups of coffee, you were eager to grab one as you walked by. 
Before you could even press the lid of the cup to your lips, you were interrupted by the sound of a familiar voice, yet again.  
“Is it your turn to spill something on me, then? I’m having a pretty bad day, and I don’t know if I can handle that.” 
Both you and Lou whipped around to the sound of the man’s voice, the man who just a short time ago had been forced to retire his race due to a faulty and on fire brake. You could practically feel Lou humming with excitement as she looked between you and Max. 
Shoving her hand out in his direction, Lou introduced herself to Max who did the same back. 
“With that, I’m going to see how everything’s going in the garage. Call me if you get lost, yeah?” Without giving you the chance to argue, she bolted away.  
Silently groaning, you looked back towards Max. For someone who just retired from a race he was probably going to win, he seemed relatively calm and relaxed. 
“So, are you?” 
“Am I what?” You questioned back, confused. 
“Are you going to spill your coffee on me, in retaliation for the Red Bull?” Instantly shaking your head, obviously the retirement from the race couldn’t have affected him too negatively, if he was already cracking jokes in your direction. 
“You don’t even know my name, and you’re accusing me of wanting to go out of my way to kick a man when he’s already down?” 
Watching his face fall, you could tell he was about to defend his words. A smile began to cross your face, his eyes jokingly narrowing in your direction. 
Sticking your hand out towards him, you finally introduced yourself, your name falling from his lips as if it was a beautiful word from a testament as he took your hand. It would be embarrassing to say a small spark shot up your arm, but the racing driver had inevitably shocked you, an apology dropping from his lips almost immediately. 
“Terrible race to stalk me at, though. You couldn’t have at least made it a race that I actually stood a chance at winning? Pretty embarrassing to have to retire for such a stupid reason, in front of such a pretty girl.”  
If there was one thing other than racing that Max was good at, it was making your cheeks warm and the butterflies in your stomach spike.  
“Well... I am here as a guest of McLaren... maybe I was just really hoping for a Piastri win. Gotta root for the hometown boy, right?” 
Shaking his head, Max mockingly pressed his hand to his chest and looked at you like he was internally wounded. 
“You’d support McLaren over me? The man who runs into you in the weirdest of places? Who gave you a free Red Bull without a can?” he said. 
You could barely help the small snort that fell from your lips at his words, your hand instantly slapping against your lips in horror. Max openly laughed at your reaction, arm gently hitting your shoulder with a grin. 
“Just for that, I’ll support Ferrari before I support you and your Red Bull’s. I don’t think Charles Leclerc would spill a Red Bull on me.” 
In response, Max grinned and pointed in the direction of the Ferrari garage, the red and yellow prominent amongst the stone. “Shall I go introduce you to Charles, then? He’d probably spill an actual hot coffee on you, at least I didn’t leave any lasting damage.” 
“The trauma of smelling like an original Red Bull for more than 2 hours isn’t enough damage?” you questioned, your eyebrows quirking up at him. 
Max looked at you in horror, “You can’t possibly be saying you don’t think the smell of an original, cold, fresh out of a fridge, Red Bull isn’t just simply lovely. This is potentially the biggest red flag about you.” 
You were quick on your feet, the words dropping from your lips before you could contain them. 
“I guess we’re all on fire today, then. Red flags left and right.” you said with a smirk. 
All Max did was laugh at your words, his head rolling back while his hands placed themselves on his hips.  
Just as he had been the last two times, Max was interrupted before he could continue the conversation, a lady in a Red Bull sweater tapping him on the shoulder to let him know he needed to make his way back to the garage for some interviews that had been requested of him.  
“Nice seeing you again, I’m sure next time I see you, you’ll probably heal more of my Red Bull soaked shirt trauma.”  
The only response he gave was a loud laugh and a wave, as he walked away. 
Time, wondrous time  Gave me the blues and then purple pink skies 
The FIA year-end Gala was exquisite. Everyone was dressed to the nines, the lights were twinking, the service was lovely, and the atmopshere was electric. 
Even though, for almost all of the people there, it was a requirement of their jobs, everyone seemed as if they were having a wonderful time. Mingling with those around them, actively engaging in conversation with co-workers, friends, long-time acquaintances.  
Your boss had elected that you and a fellow co-worker attend in her place, admitting that although she loved the excitement of the night, she needed a break from the glitz and the glam of Formula 1 for a tiny bit. She knew you were more than willing to take her place and do an incredible job.  
Which is exactly how you found yourself at a table with Jack, one of your co-workers, a wide grin on his face as he observed everything going on around him. He was new to the company, just having recently completed his internship and been offered a full-time position with the organization. It was his first time at a Formula 1 event of any kind. 
“Isn’t this brilliant? I’m a huge motorsports fan, I wanted to get into karting when I was a kid but it was just too expensive, my parents couldn’t afford that. I’ve never even had the opportunity to go to a race, and now I’m in the same building, the same room as literal race drivers. Have you been to a race before?” 
You forgot how much he could yap, an almost over-eager human equivalent of an excited golden retriever. He looked at you expectantly, waiting for your answer to his question. 
“I’ve been to a few races for work, and a few privately with some friends. They’re always a great time, you’ll have lots of fun when you start going for work.” you said. 
Grinning at your words, you began to tune him out as he launched into another rant. You were pulled out of your thoughts at the sound of someone saying your name, your head swiveling in the direction of the voice. 
You were almost positive Jack was squealing out loud, as Max Verstappen once again entered your view. Smiling up at him, you stood up to greet the Dutchman, which resulted in him pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek, his hand gently patting you on the back as he did so. 
“I just wanted to come by and say hello. You look very beautiful.”  
Unable to contain the anxious laugh that fell from your lips, you immediately smiled at him. Accepting compliments was obviously not your forte, especially when they were coming from Max, who looked more handsome than ever in his suit, and the wide smile on his cheeks pulling everything together. 
“Never thought I’d see you in anything other than jeans and a Red Bull shirt, Max. You look lovely, as well.” 
“Making fun of me, and a compliment all in one? I will say, I probably would’ve worn jeans if I could, but my public relations manager likely would’ve murdered me and I quite enjoy being alive,” he said. 
Shaking your head in silent laughter, you barely even noticed as Jack thrust his hand out to introduce himself to Max.  
“Your girlfriend is lovely, mate. This is what, the fourth time I’ve run into you?” Max said in greeting, a somewhat tight smile on his face. 
Jack instantly shook his head, “Oh god no, we’re co-workers. I don’t mean she’s not lovely, she is. I’m not her type, or actually she’s not my type. I’m yapping, this is embarrassing. Mr. Verstappen, it was really nice to meet you. I need a drink. I’m sorry.” 
He practically sprinted away, both you and Max looked on with amused grins present on your faces. 
“So, if he’s not your boyfriend, does that mean one of the guys you were with in Switzerland are?” 
Shaking your head, “God, no. Those are friends I’ve known for years. I’m very much single, right now.” 
Max looked like he was in complete contemplation as he debated what to say next. You were secretly hoping he would take the bait, maybe ask if you were free after the gala, or ask how long you were going to be in town for. 
Running into him again once was by chance, twice was a coincidence, and thrice was obviously a sign. The universe was obviously trying to tell you something, there was a reason this man, who had first shown up in your life just after one of the worst heartbreaks you had ever experienced, continued to show up. It was hard to not get your hopes up, to not get ahead of yourself. 
It was hard to keep the butterflies at bay, truthfully.  
“Hypothetically, does that mean you’re free after the gala?” 
“Hypothetically... I man be free after the gala,” you responded. 
Nodding his head, Max smiled in your direction. “I think it would be a crime to let this beautiful dress, and my efforts to wear a suit for something go to waste. I’d love to take you out after.” 
And isn't it just so pretty to think  All along there was some  Invisible string  Tying you to me? 
Max had been transparent from the beginning; he wasn’t overly affection nor was he a fan of excessive cuddling. He got warm often, and the moment he got too warm when he was in bed, he got miserable. But when he wanted to cuddle? You had to take what he would give you.  
Which was exactly how you found yourselves right now, Max playfully attempting to whack your phone out of your hand, his other arm wrapped around your waist as he burrowed his head into your neck. 
“Schatje, I just wanna cuddle for a bit. Give me a little attention.” 
Slapping gently at his arm, you looked at him in mock exasperation. All you ever did was give him attention, he almost took the words out of your mouth when he muttered, “I know you give me plenty of attention, don’t yell at me.” 
You just shook your head silently as you used your free hand to gently twirl small tuffs of his hair, a small hum of content falling from his lips at your movements. 
“What are you looking at?”  
Attempting to look over at your phone, you moved the screen so he could see it better. It was a video from your first ever Formula 1 race, back when you were still a little intern and your boss had wanted you to gain some exposure to the sport. 
“I’m just looking back at some videos. Found this one from my first ever race. I didn’t even know I still had this.” 
Max instantly perked up and looked at your phone, his eyes squinting as he tried to decipher something in the video. 
“Do you remember which race it was? Looks like it’s a few years old, yeah?”  
Nodding your head, you tried to do the math in your head, thinking back to what year you first started your internship. “I think it was 2016? It was definitely in Spain, but I’m pretty positive it was 2016.” 
“Do you know what that means?” Max questioned, a soft smile on his lips as he pressed a small kiss to the junction between your chin and throat before looking back up at you. 
Shaking your head in confusion, you tried to determine what he could be talking about, giving him the chance to continue.  
“My first ever win in Formula 1, for Red Bull, was the 2016 Spanish Grand Prix. Isn’t that so ironic? Guess things were always meant to be.” 
Maybe he was right. 
Maybe there was always a string, a small, invisible string, tying everything together, tying you to him.  
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genuinely i got this into my mind and felt like i was legally obligated to write it asap. i hope you LOVE it and i would so appreciate it if you told me if you do. thank you, love you all 🫶🏻
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smutoperator · 2 months
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Room 922
Im Nayeon x Male Reader
Tags: ass eating, creampies, dirty talk, edging, female masturbation, footjob, grinding, head-bobbing, hotel room, lingerie, lube, (a very) naughty tongue, no-hands blowjobs, riding, rimjob, uncut cock, window sex
Word count: 5326.
Paying a tuition for medical school isn't easy. You were seeing it as you had to work all day in a hotel to make money. It was a very tiring job where you were responsible for cleaning many rooms a day before heading up to your university. Today specifically, the hotel seemed even fuller, as you were told a Korean pop group would be stationed there.
"You have service for room 922," your superior said. Climbing up to the 9th floor this early wasn't something you were very keen on doing, yet you had no choice. To make things worse, the service elevator was broken. After a long climb, you finally found the room you were called to. Greeting you was a woman in white lingerie.
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"Hello," Nayeon said. "You must be the cleaning guy," she continued. "Yes, I am," you said, a little embarrassed to look at her in such an outfit. "You've got a lot to clean here today," Nayeon continued. "But I was told you just arrived," you replied. "Well, not that usual cleaning," she said.
"What does she mean by that?" you think to yourself. Meanwhile, Nayeon grabs her butt and shakes it in front of you, staring at the hotel's window and the city's beautiful morning skies. "It's all yours today, that hot body," she then says. "What?" you ask, baffled. "I-I-I can't do that; stop," you back off. "Of course you can; just close the door and let me give you a dream experience in this room," she replied, spanking her own ass in the process.
Nayeon kept moving her body, waiting for you to take the initiative. However, you just remained frozen while watching her wiggle it. "Are you going to do anything?" she asked. You finally decided to move, grabbing Nayeon's ass. You were surprised by how fit and toned it was, running your hands all over it before giving it the first few spankings. "This is amazing; your ass is so hot," you told her. "Yes, baby, I know," she said as she kept jiggling it. Her thong was so small that you could already see the meaty outer lips of her pussy. Holy shit, who was this insane woman, and why was she doing that?
"Ahhh," Nayeon let out the first moan as you couldn't resist diving into her still-clothed butt and smoothering her tight ass. "That's where your face belongs," Nayeon approved, grabbing the back of your head and pushing it further against her ass, moving it left and right, and enjoying it as she turned her face to see it. "Hmmmm, yeah, that face is really into my sexy ass," Nayeon laughed and bragged. "Oh, fuck, yes, it is," you confirmed.
"Ahahaha!" Nayeon kept laughing at how hard you were simping for her butt, shaking it in the air once again to tease you. "Wanna see more of that hot body, baby?" she rhetorically asked as she pulled her bra to the side and unveiled her already hard nipples. She loved your reaction to it, still baffled at how a stranger could be so bold to do that to a hotel employee with no restraints.
You got on your knees and stared at Nayeon's body, especially her lips, both the ones at the top and the ones at the bottom of it. Suddenly, she pulled her panties to the side and showed you her already throbbing cunt, running her hands all over it. "I like those pussy lips," you told her. "Me too," she said. Nayeon had long, dangling inner lips, which she then spread out for you, and you tasted the juices of her pussy.
"Lube my tits; I want them very shiny," she said, giving you a tiny bottle of lube that you poured on her milkers, rubbing it all over them as soon as you stopped. "Oh my God, it's so slick," she said as she grabbed them. Nayeon then started teasing you, moving her panties in and out before finally taking them fully off, turning around for you to see her fully naked ass, and spreading her cunt and butthole for you.
"Wow, it's amazing; you're so fit," you told her. "Thank you," Nayeon said. "Now let me see what you're hiding under those pants," Nayeon asked, which you promptly followed, showing her your already hard, uncut boner to her. "I can see you're liking it a lot," Nayeon said as soon as she took a look at the size of your throbbing erection. "I love it," you confirmed to her as she turned around and teased her pussy for you, fingering it in front of your face.
You finally got up, getting face-to-face with Nayeon. Your hard cock already pointed straight into her cunt, making her eyes brighten. She held your shaft and rubbed her pussy lips into it, tasing her entrance to you, who groaned as the friction of her grindind turned your cock throbbing red. Nayeon licked her chops, ready to taste an uncut cock for the first time in a long while.
"I already want to taste that cock; I want this so bad; I'm so hungry for it," she told you in front of your face, her bunny teeth glowing as she said each of those words. "But I'm going to take my time with you today," she continued as she kept grinding on it, getting her nipples even harder and moving up and down, side to side, on it.
It was Nayeon's turn to get on her knees and worship that swinging, uncut rod. Without using her hands, she sucks your tip almost dry in just her first attempt. She then moves further down that cock, already starting it very sloppily and running her hands down your shaft, moaning while sucking it. "Fuck, that really fits well in my mouth," she says, teasing you, then starting again, this time running her hands all over it, before moving them down to unhook her bra. 
Nayeon gets the tip of your cock very wet, covering it with her saliva, before bobbing her head on your cock increasingly fast. Watching her suck it from above is a spectacle, especially seeing that she does all that hands-free, truly showing how much of a master of cock-sucking she is. As she finishes, her saliva sexily runs down her chin.
"That foreskin—I haven't seen one in a while," Nayeon says as she kisses your cock. You wouldn't think she would be so into a piece of tissue, but a cock like yours is rarely seen in her home country. She laughs and then licks your tip while holding the foreskin. Her naughty tongue drives you crazy, sweeping all over that throbbing tip.
"Fuck," you say, out of breath, as she keeps kissing and sucking your cock sloppily. You can't resist and start pushing your meat up her mouth, but quickly, Nayeon shows who's in control, picking her panties from the ground and using them as a "cock ring" on you, resuming the sucking and bobbing. This time, she goes for the kill, deepthroating your shaft for the first time and holding steady until she finally gags.
Nayeon continues her cock-sucking show, this time going in and out of it with her mouth and still using no hands, looking at the shadows of your swinging cock that the sun hitting the window casts on the hotel room's floor, before resuming her insane and very loud head-bobbing, before holding your cock all the way inside her throat for a good 30 seconds.
After freeing your cock from her custom "ring," Nayeon starts masturbating your shaft. The thing she enjoys the most by far is covering and uncovering your tip with your foreskin, like she just got a new toy to play with. "So good," you tell her. "Hmm, so you enjoy the way I stroke that cock?" she brags as she keeps doing it but now moves down your balls. You groan out of her overstimulation as she already takes your sack fully in her mouth and spits all over it.
Nayeon increases the pace of her stroking and gags hard on your balls. "YESSS!" she gleefully screams as your shaft pokes her face, before moving up to suck it loud once more using no hands. Once she is done, Nayeon sits down and starts rubbing her pussy in front of you. "Ohhhh," she moans as you watch her hands work all over her clit. As soon as she gives you a glimpse, you can already see the wet juices all over the surroundings of her vagina.
Nayeon takes three fingers deep into her already wet cunt, turning her masturbation louder as her pussy gets wetter and wetter. Her moans drive you wild, as she also starts humoing against the floor, drinking her juices as soon as she finishes them, and fully sticking her tongue out for you. "God, you're so hot and sexy," you tell her as she licks her lips and her sloppy pussy juices stick onto her chin, then goes back to your cock, getting herself on all fours to suck your cock, once again bobbing her head like a maniac, taking it deep in her throat to the point where she forces you to pull out to avoid cumming.
As you move closer to the room's bed, Nayeon follows, crawling on all fours towards you. As you sit on it, she dives her mouth straight into your balls while you try to distract yourself by looking at the skyline. Your pole swings up and down at each lick she gives you before standing straight just as she closes her eyes, giving you a beautiful view of your cock and her face side by side.
"So good," you say as Naeyon spits on your tip. "I know you're feeling desperate; just let me edge you," she says. And she's completely right, as you have completely forgotten about your job and only crave for her. "Stroking it nice and slow, up and down, up and down, making you want to cum so bad. But if you want to cum for me, you'll have to fuck me, hmmmm," she says as she jerks you off.
"Look at that fucking cock; all it wants is that wet, tight pussy," Nayeon continues. You can only groan as she keeps edging you and laughing at your despearation. She strokes your cock fast now, her mouth just taking the tip in as she coughs on it. "Oh yes, I wanna spit all over your balls and tongue, that dirty fucking asshole," she tells you as soon as she's done with it.
You spread your legs and give Nayeon easier access to your sack and anus. She rubs her hands around it before closing her eyes and diving that tongue straight into your butthole, moaning inside it. Her tonguing is so good and nasty. Nayeon suddenly opens her eyes and now has her right hand stroking your dick as she stares at you while her mouth keeps working inside your asshole, her legs jilling to tease you as well. 
Nayeon gives you one hell of a lick that starts at your anus and goes all the way up to your tip. You can only grunt, as her naughty tongue has you under full control. As she goes back down, she spits on both your balls and asshole before sticking her hand in her tongue to taste further. "Fuck yes," she says as she goes deeper and deeper inside your rim, then laughs as she moves around it, then increases the pace of her sloppy tonguings.
Barking like a puppy, Nayeon moves up and sticks her tongue into your balls before masturbating your foreskin as she rubs your shaft on her face before inserting it in her mouth and putting your balls resting right between her boobs. She really enjoys that uncut toy so much, gagging all over it and playing with her spit before moving back down to your asshole. "Holy fuck, that shit is so good," she says. No words come out of your mouth; all you can do is take a deep breath as her moves have you on the verge of a heart attack.
You try to get up as soon as Nayeon gives you a little break, but that's a short lift. She's already there to stoke your cock, her eyes closed and her tits popping out better than ever. "That cock looks so fucking wet," she says, praising the workings of her tongue as she rubs your tip against her nipple.
"I'm scared you're gonna cum for me, not yet, boy," she says as she now concentrates the stroking around your tip before diving on it once again. "OHHHH. FUCK!" you scream as Nayeon gives you her sloppiest blowjob yet and gargles all over that meat. She holds herself on your thighs and goes back to her signature head-bobbing, praising your cock after she finishes. "Look at that cock so fucking big, craving to get into my pussy," she says, doing a measurement between your shaft and her face, noticing that your length had surpassed the extension of it.
"Can I put it in your pussy?" you ask as soon as Nayeon finishes her blowjob and gives a major spitting on your shaft. "Uh huh," she says, giving you the green light. "Turn around, please," you tell her, getting a beautiful look at her toned ass. "So good," you tell her as your tip rubs against her skin. You pick up that bottle of lube she gave you and pour it all over her now shiny ass, groaning as Nayeon starts grinding it on your shaft, placing it right in her ass crack. She looks at you while stroking your cock, loving how out of breath you already are without even getting inside her.
"My filthy hands are sliding all over that cock." Nayeon smirks as she strokes your cock, getting it ready to fuck her as she slides your shaft between her legs. "Oh yeah," you say as soon as she does it. "Yes, baby, please," you say as she moans while inserting just your tip inside her warm pussy. Her tight hole squeezes your shaft from the start, getting you more and more desperate.
"Oh wow," Nayeon says as she fully sits on your big cock, making it disappear between her ass cheeks. She looks at your massive bulge under her belly in awe, then laughs as she moves laterally. "God, your pussy is so nice and warm," you tell her. Nayeon rides your cock at very unconventional angles, almost as if she wants to snap it in half, before finally switching to a straight bounce. You can only watch and tell her how good it is, as Nayeon has no issue moving up and down your big shaft, moaning each time she reaches the base of it. This is, indeed, way better than any anatomy class.
"God," you say as Nayeon keeps gyrating on your cock. "Oh, that feels so fucking good; I'm just gonna keep riding it like that," she says as she bounces up and down your dick before stopping midair and putting a finger in her asshole, giving you the order, "Fuck me." You push your cock upwards, hungry to stretch her tight pussy. "Oh fuck, fuck, fuck," she moans as you keep thrusting up her cunt.
Nayeon gets so overwhelmed that she has to regain control of it. "Oh god," she says as you hit deep in her cervix, her cheeks clapping hard now as she increases the pace of her riding before suddenly stopping and switching to a slow but sexy grind. "This is perfect, this is perfect," you say as Nayeon moves her ass sideways around your cock before going back to a straight ride. "There you go, there you go; just like that, make them clap," you tell her once she resumes bouncing. 
"OHHHHH YEAHHHHH," Nayeon screams as you two clash. You push up, and she pushes down. Nayeon spanks her own ass at each bounce, turning it red in front of you, then ducks her head down to a point where you can only see her butt bouncing. "OH MY GOD, YES, YES, YES," she screams just before she pulls out to taste her juices, giving your cock a kiss as if she were thanking it.
"Let me stroke it for you," Nayeon says as she sits on the floor and takes her shoes off. "Yes, stroke my cock with your feet," you tell her, getting closer as she puts them right between that huge shaft. You lube your cock to give her an easy stroke, but Nayeon truly doesn't need it. Blowjob, rimjob, footjob—any sex act ending in a job is one she has mastered a long time ago, like a true hard worker.
Nayeon moans as if you were still fucking her; she really enjoys the friction of her feet, especially with socks on and a hard, uncut cock, once again sticking her tongue out like the naughty girl she is. Nayeon starts moving faster with her feet, so much so that it sleeps out of your cock. She seizes the opportunity to push your foreskin up and down, enjoying it a lot as she starts fingering her pussy while doing so.
"Fuck my feet," Nayeon demands. You thrust your hips in the air, thiking of fucking her pussy in all fours as she laughs, pleased with your efforts. "Just like that," Nayeon says as she gets even more opportunities to see that throbbing tip pop out of your foreskin. Her feet preesing your cock are no different than her pussy's tightness after all, as the space you slide between them is roughly the same size as her hole.
"Hmmm, you're getting harder for those feet. Fuck it like you're fucking my pussy," Nayeon says, sending you over the moon. You pound the air as fast as you can, closing your eyes as she pushes you to the limit. Thankfully, she stops just as you were about to cum, rubbing her soles on your shaft and tip to caress them. "So fucking good" is all you can tell her.
Nayeon keeps playing with your foreskin as her soles now massage your cock, before she resumes stroking it with her feet. You soon follow and go back to fucking them, leading to more laughs and smirks from her as she lies on the floor. "Harder," she tells you as you push your cock between her soles. Once again, Nayeon wins the battle, as her stamina is much higher and she outlasts you, stroking your cock for a while before you stop pushing it.
"Let me see this nice ass," you tell her as Nayeon gets on all fours, the sun from the window hitting straight at her. You place your cock right between her ass crack, leading her to start grinding on it without even looking at your dick. She would definitely love the way your tip went in and out of your foreskin, making a big noise each time it popped out of it. You add extra lube to make her humping easier, as Nayeon now moves faster and then starts slapping your shaft on her butt.
"Ahhh, yes, yes, yes," Nayeon says as she finishes it. But soon, she'd go back to praying to God as you inserted your cock back in her pussy. "Shhh, they might hear it," you told her in a snap that you were actually supposed to be working, not fucking one of Korea's top pussies. But instead, she just laughed and cursed further as you moved your hips and fulfilled your dream of fucking her on all fours.
You panted at each thrust as Nayeon's vagina crushed your cock to the maximum. "Just like that," she said as her asshole was winking every time you pumped inside her. Her moaning got more frequent while you fucked her faster. "Don't stop fucking me," she said, her face all the way down the floor. Nayeon slapped her ass as you kept fucking her while also moving her hips sideways. "Please, keep going; fuck my pussy," she continued.
As you stopped to catch your breath, Nayeon kept moving, bouncing on your cock for a few seconds before you pushed inside her with all your might. As soon as you got tired again, she repeated the move, but this time you just let her do the work, as she also started fingering her clit while doing so, her juices coating all over your huge shaft.
"Stretch me out," Nayeon demanded as she now stopped bouncing, giving free roam for your cock to go as deep as you could. "Oh my Godddd~~," she said as her voice cracked. You took advantage of her weakness and went harder on her, making her scream even louder as she started biting her nails with your cock filling her cunt. But in the end, she loved it, giving you a huge laugh as you stuck your cock at the deepest point of her pussy, staying in there for quite a while.
As you resumed pounding, Nayeon was now completely submissive to your big cock, just trying to hold her tiny body while getting manhandled nonstop. "OH FUCKKKKKKK~~ PLEASE. YES," she kept screaming, her tits bouncing hard as you mounted her like an animal. But you could tell how much she enjoyed it as soon as you got closer to her face. She winked at you and also gave you a hot kiss. Nayeon was now just a hot mess of moans and screams, a sleeve to your cock.
"Let's go to the window," you told her. Nayeon stared at it and crawled in its direction, putting her elbow on it as she started shaking her ass once again. You repaid Nayeon's rimjob, eating her ass as she looked out the window. She started humping her fit ass on your face while you moved your tongue inside her butthole. "Take a look at this nice ass," Nayeon says as you grab her cheeks firmly now, your head shaking to the rhythm of her ass.
You put Nayeon's right leg at the window as soon as you are done, giving you an easy entrance back into her pussy. "Oh yes," Nayeon moans as you put your cock inside her, pumping fast as soon as you get there, leading her to cling to the window's support and not fall down. "AHHHHHHHH, JUST LIKE THAT, FUCK ME. TREAT ME LIKE A WHORE, AHHHHH." Nayeon starts to scream, and it gets even louder once you reach under her and start fingering her cunt as you pound her hard. Her legs quickly get weak and fall out of the window, making it easier for you to pin her against it.
Nayeon has to hold onto the window just by one knee. As you destroy her pussy nonstop, she clings onto you, leaving her right arm in her face. But instead of caressing her, you spank her butt: "That's for you to learn not to be a whore who fucks every cock you see on your sight," you tell her. Nayeon just moans, overwhelmed by your hard pumping of her cunt: "Oh God, Oh God." For the first time, you had the upper hand over her.
"Fuck," Nayeon says as you pull out and turn her around, grabbing her by the neck. You give her a torrid kiss as she gets pinned hard against the window, with you now facing her. You take it slow, getting very passionate with her. But it doesn't take long before you go back to pound her hard, craving to destroy that tight wet cunt, as her ass and back hit the window every time you hit her with your fast thrusts, with your balls clapping hard against her clit, leading her to cling even harder into your body. "YES, YES, YES, YES, AHHHHHH," she scrams as you don't seem to be able to stop.
Nayeon starts to cum in front of you as you stop to kiss her for a long while, running your tongue all over her naughty mouth. You detach from her as you watch her body shake before getting on your knees and eating her pussy, aiding in her orgasm as her juices fly into her face. "Ahhhh, it's so good down there," Nayeon says as your tongue sticks deep inside her folds. "That mouth all over my lips, ahhhh, oh fuck, just like that," she continues as she grabs your face to bury it deeper in her cunt.
As Nayeon finishes releasing her juices in your mouth, you move back closer to the bed, calling her to follow you. It takes her a bit to arrive, as she's still recovering from her orgasm. But once she does, you let her have the bed all to herself and lie on it sensually, as she's already spreading her legs, ready for more. "Sit on that cock, sit on that cock," you demand, putting yourself on the edge of the bed.
"Like that," you say as soon as Nayeon slides inside your pole, giving you a sexy moan as soon as she does. Nayeon moans as she gets impaled, but quickly goes hard in a killer reverse cowgirl ride, gyrating in your cock as she moves up and down, her moans getting sexier as the ride goes on.
"Look at the pussy; you're stretching it so well; what an amazing cock!" Nayeon praises your big dick as she goes deeper. "I'm crazy for your fucking cock," she continues as she starts laughing as you lose your stamina and starts with her bouncing harder and harder. "Oh my God, this is amazing," you say just as Nayeon slows down and switches to deep rides that fill her entire cunt before bouncing on your cock sideways and getting even more insane.
"What a great fucking cock," Nayeon continues, enjoying the ride to the fullest. "I love the way it gets deep in my pussy," she says, going back into a fast ride that drives you crazy. "Come closer," you tell her, allowing you to thust up her pussy as you now grab her tits. "Oh my God, yes," Nayeon says as she grabs your knees and watches your legs move up and down at each thrust. Now she's the one holding her tits, pinching her nipples as you pound her faster; her laugh and her naughty tongue are always present.
Nayeon closes her eyes and puts her hands on her clit, increasing the overstimulation. Your cock and her hand are fighting to see who can fuck her faster, putting both of you on edge. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah," you pant as you get increasingly out of breath. "OH FUCK!" she simultaneously screams, her boobs getting bouncier and bouncier until she cums again.
Nayeon stops with your cock fully impaled inside her; she spreads her pussy for you to see as she releases her juices all over your cock, then pulls out to give it a little massage with her hands, followed by her grinding on it. Nayeon places her thumb on your tip, making some cracking sounds as she massages your dick and keeps edging you, her hair all messy and covering her face. She places her pussy right at your shaft and keeps pressing it firmly with her right hand, once again playing with her favorite foreskin as she jerks you off.
As Nayeon gets off your lap, she sees your hard pole in full strangth, perfectly pointing to the sky and reaching all the way from the bottom of her pussy up to her navel. But she seems to want more, and she keeps jerking it off. Truth be told, Nayeon just loves how you suffer every time she does it and has to hang on for your dear life just to survive her edging you, as she gets very turned on and fingers her pussy simultaneously.
You stay on the edge, as Nayeon doesn't seem eager to stop at any moment, only stroking it even faster and then moving her feet to do the job. She really enjoys that tip hiding under your foreskin and then popping out full force each time. "Such a good girl; you're so fucking hot" is all you can say to her. Nayeon agrees, but a good girl needs a reward, and she's finally ready to get it.
"Stretch that pussy for me; that cunt is beautiful," you order her, doing the teasing now. Nayeon does, and you can see her dangling lips itching for that dick as they throb and wink, and she keeps touching herself until some naughty words finally come out of her mouth.
"You know what I want? I want you to cum for me, and I want it all inside," Nayeon demands. Holy shit, she's really gonna let you fill that pussy up. You go wild and stick your cock deep inside her as soon as you hear those words. "Hmmm, yes," Nayeon approves, sensing the urgency in your expressions.
Nayeon spreads her legs as your cock sticks deep in her, clinging to the pillow on the bed as you go faster on her pussy. She laughs and enjoys every second of it, moving her hips in sync with yours as you pound her and make her tits bounce hard. "Yes, pop, pop it; I know you want it," she says in between moans as she puts her hands in her neck and chokes herself, sticking her naughty tongue out.
"Keep choking yourself," you tell her, noticing it has made her pussy tighten. "Yes, fuck," she says, looking at you with begging eyes. After a while, you decide to do it yourself, placing your right hand on it while you fuck her harder. "Please, please, please, please," Nayeon begs as she waits for your cum. You get rougher on her as you start slapping her bouncy tits now and then pinching her nipples.
"You want my cum?" you ask her. "Yes, cum in me, baby," she answers, fingering her pussy and tightening her walls even further. Not even 10 seconds later, you start groaning as you finally manage to fill her up to the brim.
"Oh yes," Nayeon celebrates as she puts her legs up in the air. Your sperm starts leaking out of her pussy and filling the bedsheets. "Push it out," you tell her as she does it and laughs, spreading her pussy lips. "Oh my God, you're so fucking amazing," you tell her, still out of breath.
Nayeon tastes your cum as you put your cock back in. "I know you have more; unload the rest of it on me," she begs. Nayeon puts her hand in her mouth as her tits swing back and forth with each pump, but she can't wait for long until she screams again: "FUCK, YES, PLEASE," she says, her face fully buried on the bed's pillow now.
"Come on, give me another one," she says. "I love my pussy getting fucking covered in cum," she continues. "AHHHHH," Nayeon moans, which she muffles with the pillow on her face, her pussy tightening and leading you to unlond inside her for a second time.
You kiss her passionately shortly after, telling her how amazing she is and how much you wanted this to never end, then move down to give both her boobs a kiss as well. Nayeon is overwhelmed and in love with the way you fucked her, laughing as she opens her legs and shows you her cream-filled pussy for the last time.
"Thank you for coming into my life," you say. "Thank you," she replies. However, you guys can't even enjoy the moment for long, as your superior gives you a phone call shortly after.
"WHERE ARE YOU?" they say, as soon as you pick it up.
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reiderwriter · 6 days
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🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫
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Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).
A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰
Masterlist || Bingo Board
When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 
He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 
Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 
All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 
He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 
Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 
Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 
Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 
It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 
You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 
And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 
Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 
Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 
“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 
“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 
“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 
“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 
“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 
She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 
You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 
You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 
How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 
How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 
You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.
“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 
“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 
“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 
“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 
You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 
“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”
Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 
“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 
“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 
“Reid?” 
“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 
“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 
“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 
“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 
“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 
He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 
He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 
He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 
A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 
“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 
“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 
“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 
You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 
“You said to show you-”
“You're not wearing a vest.” 
You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 
He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 
You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 
You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 
Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 
“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”
His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 
“Like this?” 
“A little more… here, let me.” 
You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 
“Try now.” 
Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 
You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.
"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 
“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 
Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 
“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”
He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 
If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 
You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 
Straight into the center of the target. 
“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  
He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 
“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 
“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 
He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 
You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 
Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 
He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.
“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 
“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 
“I'm not-” 
“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 
Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 
That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.
“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 
The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 
He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 
“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 
A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 
Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 
“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 
“What do you need?” 
“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"
He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.
“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 
“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”
You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 
“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 
“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 
Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 
He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 
Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 
Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 
“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
“Good girl.” 
You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 
Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 
“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 
You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 
“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 
He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 
“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 
He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 
“S-Spencer, fuck-” 
“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 
“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 
You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 
“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”
“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 
You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 
With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 
Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 
“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 
You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 
“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 
You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 
You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 
Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 
“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 
“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 
You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 
He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 
“Fuck, more. Please more!” 
He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 
“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 
He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 
Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 
“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 
You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 
With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 
Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 
He kept snapping pictures. 
Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 
He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 
In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 
“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 
It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 
Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 
“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 
Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 
His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 
“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 
He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 
“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 
“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 
“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 
1K notes · View notes
intoxicated-chan · 1 year
Note
Okay this is an idea I’ve had for a while but imagine Miguel hasn’t had time to fuck his s/o due to spider duties and Alchemax shenanigans. And they’re soooooo fucking horny typically they come to Miggy whenever they have this problem but they don’t want to bother him so they bring out some old tools. Their vibrators from before they started dating. Miguel comes home however right during the middle of you using one of them and he’s soooo mad cause he wants to fuck you. I’ll leave the rest of the fic up to you. 💋 Love you so much!!
You Set My Soul Alight
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✿ฺ Paring ➳❥ Miguel O’Hara x F!Reader
✿ฺ Summary ➳❥ Miguel is always busy and leaving you in a mess. But you feel bad bothering him so you look for your past methods to get off.
✿ฺ (A/n) ➳❥ Inspired by “Supermassive Black Hole” by The Muse. Apologies this took a while.
✿ฺ Word Count ➳❥ 1k
✿ฺ Content Warnings ➳❥ Female reader, pet names (Mi amor, cariño) cock blocking, female masturbation, biting, blood, restraints, begging, choking, slightly mean Miguel…
Want more Miguel Content, check out my Masterlist!!
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“Miguel.” You moaned out and pushed up against the kitchen counter.
You felt one hand slip under your shirt and, the other went down to your pants, tugging them down.
“Yes, mi amor?” Miguel whispered in your ear, “Use your words.”
“Please… Hurry.” You whined.
His body was up against you. His fingers lightly graze your skin in fear but still were attentive as possible. But you jolted when you felt a finger push inside you.
“Slow.” He murmured, “Slow.”
You continue to whine and moan as his finger moves in and out, then a second finger was added.
“Migu-!” His hand that was previously toying with your skin was now clammed over your mouth.
“So impatient.” He chuckled, “I ought to-“
His phone rings loudly and he curses rather loudly. Marching over it and answering it, talking to whoever was on the other side. But by the looks and sound, it wasn’t good news.
“I’m sorry, (Y/n). I have to head back to the office.” Miguel tells you.
“Go back? But you just got home a couple of hours ago.” You questioned.
“Well, they let the intern do the filings. I have to head back and fix their mistake.”
You watched him head up to the bathroom, leaving you flustered and bothered.
It wasn’t the first time something like this happened. Whenever Miguel had the chance to finally touch you, something always has to interrupt him.
It would’ve been fine if it was for the last couple of days, but it just had to be weeks!
Miguel grumbles in his office, looking over the mess the employees let the intern make. And what’s worse? Oh yeah, he has to go back to the headquarters before Peter B. does something stupid. Why did he leave that idiot in charge again?
He grumbles even more when he gets the notification on his laptop, more emails sent, and more paperwork to look over. Sometimes he wishes he could just ditch work and head back to you. But he knows he’s the boss and he couldn’t be doing that.
And it wasn’t the first time this happened…
You felt Miguel’s crotch press up against yours, his lips kissed down to your neck, placing light kisses before biting down.
Your hands come up to his hair, pulling him away from your neck. You watch him as he smirks, licking the blood off his lips.
“What did I say before?” He murmurs.
“Miguel.” You huffed, “Please.”
“Please what?”
“Please-“ His watch rang, making his hiss.
He grabs it, pressing a few buttons. A screen pops up, it’s Gwen, “Yes?”
“Um, how bad would it be if about a dozen villains escaped?”
“Gwen, you do not need me there.”
“Normally, yes. But if it’s all of them…”
“All of them?! How?!”
“I just got here!”
“I’m on my way.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, cariño, it’s-“
“Don’t apologize.” You sit up, “Go, I can take care of this.” Gesturing to the still-bleeding wound.
“I love you.” He places a kiss on your forehead.
“I love you too, Miguel.”
It wasn’t just frustrating for him, it was you as well.
You wanted to beg him to stay a little longer, but at the same time, it felt selfish. The HQ would’ve fallen to pieces if Miguel wasn’t there to control the situation.
And now, you laid back on the bed. Usually, you’d keep yourself busy with your work but the ache between your legs was getting unbearable by the second.
You huffed and opened the bedside table, last drawer, and hidden under a blanket was your vibrator. It’s been a while since you last used it, it was before Miguel became slammed with work. But desperate times call for desperate measures.
You took a deep breath and let it out, relaxing. With it up against your clit, you pressed the button. The vibrations made you jolt and your breath hitched. You closed your eyes and let yourself fall into your imagination while pleasure flows throughout your body.
You missed his touch. The way he made you feel. How careful he was with you like you were made of glass. But once he was sure of himself, he’d let himself go.
The way his hands come to your throat, squeezing it before his hands traveled down. But your favorite part is when he finally got to bite your neck. You knew it was his favorite and he wasn’t going to admit it.
Those nights that were pure bliss always heeded carefully, he wanted to be sure that you were okay and-
“Didn’t think you’d miss me this much.” Miguel leans on the door frame. Watching you cover yourself you, “No, no, don’t stop on my account.”
“I-I thought-“
“Yeah, the others had it handled. Came back home once I learned.” Miguel closes the door as he enters the shared bedroom, “So, what’s this?” Snatching the now turned-off toy, “How long have you been using this?”
“Just now.” You tell him.
He climbs onto the bed, “Am I really that disappointing in bed?” Miguel forces your legs open and pulls you closer to him, “Is that the only thing that can get you off?” He starts stripping himself.
“No! You’re more than enough.” You try to sit up but he pushes you back down.
“Then tell me why do you still have these?”
“B-Because you’re so busy, I didn’t want to bother you.”
As if his smirk couldn’t get anymore wider, “All you had to do was use your words.” Miguel holds your hands up against the headboard, using his webbing to keep them secure, “So, tell me. ¿Qué quieres?” (What do you want?)
“Please…”
“Please what?”
“Please, fuck me, Miguel.”
“See, was that so hard?” He chuckles.
He doesn’t bother wasting time preparing, he shoved himself in a single thrust. His hand comes to your throat, apply pressure.
Your legs tightly wrap around him, if he wasn’t already close to you, he is now.
“I’ve got a lot of making up to you.” He growls, “We have all day for it, keep your eyes on me and I’ll give you want you want.”
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© 2023 Intoxicated-Chan, I do not allow my work to be copy, translated, or put my work on any other platform without my permission.
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5K notes · View notes
fayesia · 7 months
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Dress Code — boss!miguel o’hara x secretary!reader 
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~Prompts~
“I want to hear you beg.”
“Arch your back for me.”
Warnings: nsfw 18+, p in v, unprotected sex, dom!miguel, brat taming, sir kink, praise kink, creampie, dirty talk, size difference, lmk if i missed anything!! 
Rough hands bend you over the hard mahogany desk, yanking your skirt down and spreading your legs. 
“You fucking slut parading your ass for everyone to see, is this what you wanted?” 
Hard slaps rained down on your ass as you moaned completely overdriven with lust. 
“Please mig-sir fuck me” 
“oh no i don’t think you deserve that, thinking you get this cock while walking around with no panties—are you even wearing a bra?” Your boss’ hands pull you back up against his front, moving towards your sheer white shirt, groping at your breasts, and ripping the silky material in two with his own bare hands. 
The buttons go flying around the room clattering across the floor as his hands roam your breast, skilled fingers tugging at your hardening nipples, his mouth ghosting over the side of your neck whispering filthy things. 
“Exactly what i thought, you’re just a fucking whore coming into my office acting like you need something…all you need is my cock to fill your bratty mouth up”. You uncontrollably moan at his words and touch, feeling your own wetness drip down your inner thighs. 
Your certainly not the only one who notices, “oh would you look at that what a slut, absolutely dripping for me…did you want me to help with that?” 
“yes sir please touch me” 
“i want to hear you beg” 
“hmm please sir i need you touch me, fuck me, anything please sir I’ll be a good girl for you” he growls hearing such lewd words leave your mouth. “Mm yes thats what i like to hear baby”. Miguel removes one of his hands from your tits and slowly traces his way down to your inner thighs. He collects your leaking juices and rubs them around your pussy taking his time to trace circular motions over your clit. You’re unsure of what to grab onto, pulling at his brown locks once styled to perfection but now in disarray just like his perfectly tailored suit. 
You feel yourself almost getting to the edge until he stops, immediately noises leave your mouth at the loss of contact. “Fuck i cant take this anymore” you hear him breathe out behind you. Unzipping his pants, he strokes his thick and long erect cock and rubs it against your drenched pussy. “Oh my god you feel so good baby nice and warm…mm so wet for me”. His praise immediately causes you to react, as the thick head of his cock enters your vagina stretching you out in a way you’ll never get used to. 
He thrust in and out at a ferocious pace needing you as much as you did him. His balls smacking against your pussy as the thrusts enter deeper and deeper into you each time. Slowly he readjust you to be bent over his large desk again, brushing aside pens and stacks of papers as you hear them fall to the floor. He grabs your hair into one clenched fist while the other reaches down to rub your clit, "Arch your back for me." 
You’re moaning as loud as possible not caring if any of the other employees can hear you, pushing your ass back up against him and arching as best as you can with the hopes of pleasing his demands. “Mmm yes such a good girl, perfect pussy wrapping around my cock, fuck, fits just like a glove huh”. 
“Ah im gonna come..please let me come sir” you ask through short breaths, feelings of overwhelming pleasure fog up your brain. “Yes baby come for me, drench my cock”. With hard quick thrusts and two fingers working tirelessly against your clit you let out one more moan, more pornographic sounding than ever and cum all over Miguel’s cock, all over your bosses cock. He quickly follows after, lowering himself to lie against your back and with one final thrust he lets out a deep guttural groan as he fills you up with his cum, leaving your lower belly feeling warm and full. 
After a few seconds of the two of you laying there to recover from the absolute earth shattering orgasms given to one another, Miguel removes his now flaccid cock and quickly replaces it with two of his fingers to stop any of the mixed cum from dripping out. You mewl and stretch at the overstimulation from his thick fingers as he removes them and pulls your skirt back up, while leaving soft kisses against your neck and gently rubbing his thumbs against your hips. 
“You were such a bad girl today huh baby”, you nod knowing every decision you made was in the hopes of this happening…for you to get fucked in you boss’ office like many times before. “So for the rest of today you can walk around with my cum dripping out from your pussy”.
“if we get home and i see you’ve cleaned up..lets just say you don’t wanna know what punishment I’ll have in store for you tonight.” 
“Yes sir” you reply completely out of breath as you reach to grab one of your spare white button ups from his desk drawer, you stand back up and try to make yourself look as presentable as possible. Like you weren't just bent over your boss’ desks and fucked into having one of the best orgasms of your life. The thick gooey substance drips down your thigh and slowly reaches your ankle causing an immediate stutter in your breathe. 
‘Fuck’ you think as you exit Miguel’s office avoiding any eye contact with other workers, ‘I’m not gonna get any work done for the next 2 hours’.
~thanks to anyone who supported my first post, hopefully u guys like this one as well!!~
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luvyeni · 4 months
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❛MR. VAMPIRE❜ ( p. sunghoon )
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p. vampireceo!sunghoon x fem!reader w. 1.5k
warnings? oral ( f. receiving ), uprotected sex, biting, mentions of blood
— 𖦹 ( finding out you're your boss is a vampire ) !
authors note. i listened to mr. vampire by itzy and i was inspired✨
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“Did you hear the rumors about Mr. park?”
You perk your ears up, listening to your coworkers gossip. “which ones?” it had only been your first week at your new job, and you haven’t had the chance to meet your boss yet — but you’ve heard many things about the man.
“that’s he was a vampire.” Your other coworker laughed, standing around the table of the table in the break room. “a vampire? Come on I’ve heard everything but that’s first.” They laughed as sipped on your water. “Y/n what do you think of Mr. park?” one of them asked. “You think he’s a vampire?”
“we-well I-i don’t believe in vampires so I don’t think he's one.” You fiddled with your lanyard around your neck. “But I did hear he’s is kind of mysterious, maybe he just likes to live a quiet life — b-but I don’t know him so.” You quickly said. “I’m sure he’s great.”
“Yeah?” you heard a voice from behind you — your coworkers gasping before you turned around; the tall man stood in front of you, his skin pale — you can see where the rumor came from; even the pointy teeth; his alluring eyes — you didn’t even notice you were staring until he let out a cough. “your friends left.” You quickly grabbed your trash, throwing it away ready to leave, but he stopped you. “you’re the new employee aren’t you?” he asked. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“m-me? Y-You’ve heard a lot about me?” you pushed your glasses on your face; he smiled, eyeing your figure up and down, making you feel small. “Yeah.” You didn’t notice him getting him getting close. “Not often we get someone as sweet as you.” You were now looking up at him. “I-I’m not sure what you mean sir?”
“don’t worry, many people just said you’re hard working.” He said. “keep up the good work, okay?” you nodded, the walls feeling like they were closing in; you could barely speak, his scent was so intoxicating. “o-okay.” You managed to get out. “I’ll get back to work sir.” He nodded, you squeezed past — you swore his skin was cold to the touch when you accidentally came in touch with his hand. “have a good day sir.” You bowed walking quickly back to your seat able to breathe.
Sunghoon watched you scrambled back to your seat, your friends whispering — “what was that?” “you both looked like you needed a moment alone.” He smiled hearing your shaky voice. “I don’t know; and I must be going crazy because his hand was cold.” You said. “you don’t believe that stupid rumor?” your coworkers laughed. “of course not, it was probably all in my head, vampires aren’t real.” You said, he shook his head, walking back to his office — you could not have been more wrong.
“Hey, you going home?” you saw your coworker putting her coat on. “I have a few more things do.” You pouted. “well good night, don’t try and get home soon.” You hummed, going back to tapping at your computer.
About an hour later, you stretched letting all the tension away, checking the time — you should get home now. You grab all your things ready to; but you see that Mr. parks light is still on. Why was he still here? Most of your old bosses left early. You walked over to his door, ready to knock but the door was slightly open and he was inside, his chair turned — was he talking to someone. “sir?”
He didn’t answer you, but he wasn’t talking on the phone— so maybe he was sleep. “M-mr. park?” you open the door, walking into the room. “Are you okay?” He stood to his feet making you jump a little. “I’m fine.” He turned around — your heart dropping; his eyes red, lips red. “M-mr. park.” You stepped back ready to leave out the door in fear, but he was quicker than you. “why are you so scared?” he heard your heart beating. “yo-you’re a v-vamp” you could barely say anything. “a vampire.” He finished your sentence. “go a head, say it.”
His hand was above your head, your back pressed against the now closed door. “you’re a vampire.” You said. “I wont hurt a pretty thing like you.” He finally got a good whiff of your scent. “a special girl like you.” His hand coming down to your cup your face. “my precious mate.”
“m-mate?” you stuttered, his hand coming down, traveling from to your cheek to your neck, his nail scratching where your neck and shoulder meet. “So sweet I knew it the moment I stepped into the break room this morning.” He whispered. “S-sir, t-this is too much.” You said breathless, your legs feeling weak, his voice and the look he was giving you made a shiver run your spine, down to your core. “you feel it don’t you.” He took a deep inhale. “I can smell you darling.”
He took it upon himself to close the inch gap you placed by your hand — grabbing your wrist, kissing your lips, the metallic taste of blood on your tongue, you moaned into the kiss, he let your hand go, picking you up by your thighs, carrying over to his desk — the blood bag on his desk. “I got some much sweeter baby.” He pushed your skirt up to your waist. “so sweet baby.” He sunk down to his knees, smelling your sweet scent. “fuck baby you’re soaked.” His teeth scrapped your thighs. “s-sir.” You whined.
“sunghoon.” He kissed your clothed cunt. “say my name sweetheart.” You moaned out. “Su-sunghoon.” He smiled. “good girl.” He pulled your panties to the side. “fu-fuck you taste so good.” He dove into your cunt, licking and slurping at your folds, his tongue moving in and out of your sopping hole. “su-sunghoon, m’gonna cum.” You throw your head back. “fu-fuck!” you yelped, praying that office was empty, sunghoon couldn’t care less about that as long as he could feel you cumming on his tongue.
He pulled himself away from you, his urges taking over fully — the need to feed again creeping up on him once again — the need to mate you even stronger. “that’s okay.” You unbuttoned your shirt, revealing your pale pink bra, and you’re waiting neck — you had no idea if it would hurt or not, you were completely sure on what he even meant when he said you were his mate, but right now you wanted him in everyway — you want him to bite you.
“you don’t have to.” He said. “this must be all new to you.” you bared your neck to him, he could see your veins — the sound of your blood being pumped through your body. “I want to.”
He couldn’t fight it anymore; and he didn’t want to, you were his mate and wanted to claim it as such, he knew about the other vampires lurking around in the office and he didn’t want them to even think they had a chance. “please bite me.” Your voice sounding so sweet and so desperate — it made his cock twitch in his suit pants.
“since you’re begging for it.” He was sitting in between your legs, unbuckling his pants, letting them fall to his ankles. “but we’re gonna do it my way.” He pulled your panties down, freeing his cock from his underwear. “gonna fuck you first.” He rubbed his cock along your folds, pushing himself inside of you. “oh fuck!” you screamed as he bullied his thick cock into your tiny hole. “fuck you’re so small down there.” He cursed. “so fucking tiny.”
He began to move his hips, fucking into you.fucking into you. “you’re pussy is magic.” He groaned. “g-getting -fuck- getting addicted already. You were a moaning mess. “made for me — made for me to fuck.” He groan. “for me to breed.”
That made you made you clench around his cock. “is that what you want -shit- for me to breed you?”
You nodded. “pl-please.” You moaned. “gonna do what I wanted to do since you walked in here.” He finally bared his pointy fangs, you felt your heart speeding up. “calm down.” He slowly grinded his hips, bringing his teeth to your neck. “not gonna hurt you.” He whispered, biting down.
“sh-shit.”
You gasped feeling the blood leaving your body — his hips now moving at a brutal pace as he drained your body. “su-sunghoon.” You slurred. “g-gonna — oh fuck!” you screamed unable to speak as your mouth hung open, cumming harshly around his cock; your head feeling dizzy due to blood loss.
He finally pulled away, licking up the rest of your blood. “sh-shit m’not gonna last.” He groaned. “fuck” his hips stilled, you felt his load shooting into you. “s-so full.” You sighed, as he finished licking at your neck, two puncture wounds adorning your neck. “pretty baby.”
He pulled out of you — you whined at the sudden lost. “so greedy already.” He watched his cum leak out of you. “don’t worry princess we got forever.” He pulled your panties up. “keep it inside for me.” He kissed your lips. “you’re mine now.”
“mines forever.”
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©️LUVYENI
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vivwritesfics · 5 months
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Fake It Till You Make It - CL16
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The Princess of Monaco is wild and out of control. She needs to stop being in the tabloids for all the wrong reasons. Charles Leclerc has had a spot of bad press since his very public break up. He needs some good PR. What better way to fix their problems than to pair them up?
Fake Dating turned real dating trope
6.3K
For the purpose of this story, I have fabricated the royal family of Monaco. I have created the members of the family, their roles and what they do, using only the fact that Monaco has a royal family
ROYAL MESS
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In the early hours of the Morning on Friday, the 19th of May, Princess Y/N of Monaco was found lying in the street outside of MK Club Monaco after what appears to be a wild night out. Fans of the princess know this is no new occurrence for her.
When asked, employees in the club were quoted as saying: “It is always a delight to serve the princess. She is always polite and kind when ordering from the bar, always offering to pay for the drinks of those around her."
"Princess Y/N is fun to party with, sure. But she takes it too far, gets too drunk, and leaves us all wondering how far is too far?" Said one club patron to our reporters.
It leaves us all wondering how far is too far for the Princess of Monaco? When will her family finally take action against her partying ways?
Pictures such as these are not uncommon for the Princess of Monaco, showing us just how far royal privilege goes. It is at times like these where we thank any higher power above us that she is just the spare
Y/N's brother threw the newspaper down in front of her. His jaw was tense and his eye twitched, having just read out the entire article. "Seriously?" He said and leaned forward on his desk, staring down at his sister.
"I don't know what you're so upset about," Y/N muttered as she picked at the dirt beneath her nails. "You're not in the article."
Her brother, Herni, Prince of Monaco, let out a huff. He wanted to grip his hair and pull out of frustration, but he couldn't do that, he had to be pristine and perfect.
For years he and his family had been working to try and improve Y/N's image. It was no easy task. Well, Y/N certainly didn't make it easy. The royal family had tried to control the press, control what the night clubs were saying; they had tried to control Y/N, but none of it was working.
Henri was at his wits end.
He stood straight and turned around, looking towards the window. "How do you not understand that your actions reflect our entire family? That this shit makes all of us look bad, not just you?"
"Like the article said, I'm just the spare," she spat back, not looking up from her nails.
"Oh, don't give me that shit." Henri tried to keep his composure calm, tried not to lose his shit, but Y/N was making it very, very hard. "You're just a spoiled, little brat," he hissed.
Y/N let out a dry laugh. "I'm the selfish one? Seriously, Henri?" She called and he shot her a dirty, venomous look. So, she continued. "Who was it that threw a tantrum like a child when he didn't get the Ferrari 250 GTO for twenty-third birthday?"
Her brother glared, easily hiding his surprise that she remembered the name of the car he had so desperately wanted seven years ago.
But then Henri dropped his glare. She was just lashing out because she was pissed off about the article, he realised as he sat in his seat. "Go on, get out of here," he said to her, his head falling into his hands. He grabbed the newspaper article and slipped it back into his desk drawer.
Y/N didn't have a job. She was twenty-two, living fast and living off her family. Her family had tried to force her to get a job, but that had only pushed her into being more wild and out of control. Henri, though, he had a job. Their father had given him the important task of keeping an eye on Y/N and putting out her fires. It was an exhausting job, one that had him losing sleep.
He had to do something, he had no idea what.
There was one thing Henri could force his sister to do. And that was attend the Monaco Grand Prix.
Every year Henri and Y/N went to the Monaco Grand Prix. Y/N could still remember the first time she ever attended the Monaco Grand Prix. She was just ten years old, an eighteen year old Henri holding her hand as they walked through the paddock. She remembered standing up on the podium, watching as her brother gave a trophy to Jenson Button, and going to give Fernando Alonso a trophy of his own.
This happened every year. And, every year since she was a little girl, Y/N looked forward to seeing Fernando Alonso. The Spaniard always seemed to remember her, always greeting her with a kind, wide smile. Although Y/N loved the races, this was her favourite part of the weekend.
Because she really did love the races. As much as she tried to act nonchalant, Henri knew she loved it, loved the sounds of the cars as they came driving past.
This year, Henri kept Y/N in front of him as they walked through the paddock, waving at the drivers and the teams. The Grand Prix was full of celebrities, as it was every year. And, as with every year, Y/N and Henri were the talk of the town.
In the Red Bull garage, Y/N and Henri met Tom Holland, the Spider-Man, who was awestruck. He couldn't quite believe it as the youngest member of the Monaco Royal Family stood in front of him, talking to him about his role as Peter Parker.
At the Aston Martin garage, Y/N ran straight into Fernando's arms. "There she is," he said as she hugged him back. The bond Y/N had with Fernando was special. They'd saw each other only once a year at the Monaco Grand Prix and, in a weird way, it was like he had watched her grow up right in front of his eyes.
He knew of her partying ways and it worried him, just like it would a father to his daughter. "How have you been?" He asked, his Spanish accent thick.
As Henri moved onto the Ferrari garage, his favourite garage, as Y/N chatted to Fernando. Her favourite garage was wherever Fernando was, and she wasn't afraid to admit that. They caught up on the last year and Fernando introduced her to his teammate, a man Y/N had only met briefly before.
In the Ferrari garage, Henri said hello to Carlos Sainz. Carlos and Henri had always been friendly, that friendliness growing into some kind of friendship when he moved to Ferrari.
But then then was Charles Leclerc.
Herni loved Charles. He had several of his old F1 cars, including one of his Sauber cars, in his private collection. He'd been following Charles's career closely as he represented their country. The day he had his first win in Monaco was going to be a big day for Henri.
"Ah, Charles!" Henri called as he spotted him, already in his race overalls.
The overalls themselves were red and white, matching the flag of Monaco. Charles grinned when he saw Henri, striding over to the prince. "How are you? How is your sister?" He asked as they walked together through the Ferrari garage.
Henri pulled a face. "She is... she is Y/N," he answered with a curt nod. "Anyway, how about you? How is your season going?" He asked.
Charles gave a pained smile, and that was answer enough for Henri. "Ah," he said as they continued to walk. "Well, today will be your day."
The pair continued to chat as they walked through the paddock, catching up like old friends. Because, by this point, they were old friends. Herni asked about Charles's family and his plans for the summer break, and about his girlfriend.
Again, Charles gave Henri a look. "Ah, no girlfriend," Henri said and Charles nodded.
"I got a bit of bad publicity from it," Charles said. "I'm surprised you didn't hear about it."
Suddenly, Henri got an idea. An incredible, wonderful, terrible idea. He looked at his friend, wearing a grin, and said, "I think we can help each other out."
It was clear Charles was confused. So, Henri continued. "My sister wild and out of control," he said. "She needs somebody to get her imagine under control, and you need some good publicity. Take my sister on a couple of dates, take her to some grand prix and it'll make the both of you look good."
Charles suddenly frowned. "What? Henri, we can't do that," he said.
Henri checked his watch. The race was bound to start any moment now, he needed to grab Y/N and go sit. "Think about it," he said to Charles, wished him good luck, and went back to the Aston Martin garage to find his sister.
Henri didn't say anything to his sister as they watched the race. They watched Charles go from pole to second, Henri trying not to let the disappointment show on his face as he watched Y/N give Charles his second place trophy.
There was a good few weeks where Henri didn't hear anything from Charles. So, he didn't say anything to Y/N, whilst also trying to get her under control.
It wasn't working; Henri was close to begging. He kept an eye out for Charles's name in the press, looking for that bad bit of publicity he was talking about. And there was a lot of it, international news outlets accusing Charles of cheating, saying his bad start to the season was because of Karma.
It wasn't looking good for him, thought Henri as his phone vibrated.
He picked it up and read through his messages.
Charles Leclerc
I'm in
***
It was rare for Y/N and Henri to eat dinner together. He was always busy and she didn't give a shit. But, today, Henri insisted.
They sat across from each other, a ridiculously long table between them. Any attempt at conversation was near to impossible with the distance between them.
So, with no thought of decorum, Y/N picked up her dinner and moved down the table coming to sit right beside her brother. "What were you saying?" She asked as she tucked into her dinner.
Henri cleared his throat. "I've been speaking with Charles Leclerc."
"Okay?" Y/N looked up at him, her brows furrowed. "Good for you, Hen."
"Just listen, please," he insisted and Y/N fell quiet, returning her attention back to her food. "Its been decided by your PR team, dad, and I, that it would be best if you were seen to be with someone more... presentable. And our friend Charles if also in need of a bit of good press at the minute."
"So you want me to fake date Charles Leclerc?"
Henri nodded his head. "Not fake date him, exactly. Just be seen with him."
Y/N sat back, tapping her fork against her plate. "Okay, why should I?"
Grinning, Henri used his fork to scoop everything into a pile on his plate. "Because, if you keep up with your partying lifestyle, we're cutting you off."
She said nothing. Throwing her fork down, she pushed her chair back and stormed off.
That was the thing with Y/N. She didn’t care for propriety or her image. She did what she wanted, without much thought of how it made the royal family of Monaco. She was the weekly scandal in the newspaper, the wild child.
Henri’s head fell into his hands.
For the next week, while Charles was away from Monaco at another race, Henri set everything up. He booked out a restaurant for them, picked out something for his sister to wear and prepared her for her date with a script. Henri was controlling everything. He had every move planned out and had Y/N run through it with him several times.
He was a complete control freak.
For the date, Henri gave his sister a set of rules. Charles was his friend, after all, and this was a PR stunt. Anything he could do to prevent Y/N from embarrassing the royal family any further.
That was how she found herself in an empty restaurant, an almost empty glass of wine in front of her. Charles Leclerc hadn’t arrived at the restaurant yet; fashionably late, Y/N assumed. She was five minutes away from leaving.
But then he walked in. It was not possible for this man to look bad, Y/N realised as he strode towards her. His outfit was simple, a white shirt, buttoned almost to the top (just revealing a bit of chest) and a pair of black trousers. His hair had that usual fluff, that he seemed to achieve effortlessly.
Y/N had seen pictures of him online since his career began. He always looked good, so it was no surprise he did now.
"I'm sorry I'm late," he said as he sat in the seat opposite her.
As if to prove a point, the princess finished her drink and placed her glass down. There was a flash to her left, a camera going off. But she didn't care - Henri could put out the fire he created.
Henri had given her a script, but Y/N wasn't going to follow it. That was boring. "Your brother is in F2, right?" Asked Y/N as food was brought over to them (Henri had decided what they were going to eat when he booked out the restaurant, arranging the food to be brought over as soon as Charles arrived).
Charles looked at her, clearly confused. "Um, yes," he answered. "He's with the Ferrari Drivers Academy," he said and took a sip of his own drink. "What is it that you do?"
She snorted. She hasn't meant to snort, but she couldn't help it. "I'm a princess, what do you think I do?"
But it wasn't clear. To Charles, it seemed like all she did was party. According to her brother, all she did was party. So Charles couldn't be blamed to think that.
He didn't answer her. This dinner wasn't going too well. That much was clear to everyone.
Letting out a sigh, Y/N sat back in her seat. "We need to make this look good," she said, glancing to her left. At the paparazzi not quite hidden in a bush outside of the restaurant. "You know what the news articles will be, right? 'Monaco Royalty... something something else."
Charles thought for a moment. The restaurant wasn't the right setting, this was clear.
So, he finished his drink and looked across the table, at the princess sat opposite him. "Do you want to get out of here?"
Fuck yeah Y/N wanted to get out of here. She grabbed her coat and, together, she and Charles walked out of the restaurant. A crowd of paparazzi followed them as they made their way to Charles's Ferrari SF90 Stradale.
It was a beautiful car, one Henri had wanted for the longest time. He he was going to flip his lid once he learnt that Y/N had been inside of it.
The paparazzi continued taking pictures of them as they drove off. "Where are we going?" She asked as he drove her through the streets of Monaco.
Y/N and Charles found themselves in a bar, three drinks deep. They talked casually, more like acquaintances than anything else.
Nothing happened in the bar, they just got to know each other a little better, without the awkward conversation of a formal dinner. Y/N found out about his love for music and he learnt that she was more than a just a party girl.
The next morning Y/N woke up in one of the many guest rooms with a pounding headache. She didn't remember getting back to the palace and was still in her dress from the night before. "Shit," she groaned, the light shining through her windows hurting her eyes.
She sat up and ran her hands through her knotted hair. Painkillers. She needed painkillers and she needed them now.
With no clothes to change into, she searched through the drawers for the much needed painkillers. And when she didn't find any, she made her way to her brothers office. "Henri," she sang as she pushed her way inside. And then she was leaning against the door, holding his head.
"I did it, I went on a date with Charles Leclerc."
"Well done," Henri said as he sat back in his chair. "He's taking you to Canada next week, so pack warm," he said and went back to his work.
Y/N glared at her brother and stormed off, making her way back to bed.
***
Canada. The only reason Y/N agreed to go was to see Fernando Alonso. She was there as Charles Leclerc's guest, but she didn't care. She ran straight to the Aston Martin garage, ran straight over to Fernando.
The Spaniard was surprised to see her, that much was clear. "What're you doing here?" He asked as she threw her arms around him.
Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat. "I'm here as Charles's guest," she answered.
Fernando's eyes went wide. "Really?" He asked, his brows furrowing.
"I know," she answered.
It really was a surprise. Fernando had never even seen the princess of Monaco so much as interact with the Monégasque driver. He knew Prince Henri was a fan, but he didn't know Y/N was. So, he asked about it.
She didn't want to lie to Fernando. But she had to seel it. For the sake of the tabloids, she had to sell it. "Well, we met at the Grand Prix, hit it off, and the next thing I knew, we were going to dinner together."
"Dinner together? Wow," said Fernando. "So, do you want me to go easy on him out there?"
Grinning, she shook her head. "You do what you need to do to bring home a win for us Aston Martin fans," she said.
They said their goodbyes and Y/N made her way to the Ferrari garage.
It wasn't as if she and Charles knew each other; they'd drunkenly discussed things, but that was it. But now, she was playing the girlfriend, tucked into his side as he kept his arm wrapped around her. Before the race he held her close and she tried her best not to look uncomfortable. Play the part. All she had to do was play the part.
During the race she stayed in the Ferrari garage, watching alongside Charles's brother. Y/N had met Arthur before, she just couldn't remember where.
"So you're dating my brother?" Asked Arthur as they watched the race.
Y/N kept her eyes fixed on the screen and nodded her head.
"How did that happen?"
She just pretended not to hear him.
This went on and on, the pair going on the odd date in random countries and Y/N joining him at races. But they were putting on a performance around each other, trying to play that part. They weren't being themselves and, therefore, not getting to know each other.
She'd joined Charles in Silverstone. They'd held hands as they walked through the paddock, smiling and waving at cheering fans. Their relationship was public knowledge now and, first the first time in the last four years, she wasn't in the tabloids for a bad reason.
Henri had arranged a date in Monaco for the pair once they got back from the British Grand Prix. They flew back with Pierre Gasly, an old friend of Charles. Y/N had only met Pierre earlier that year, in Monaco when her brother had introduced them.
Pierre was good fun for the flight home. But, by the time they got there, Y/N was exhausted. She wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and shut her eyes. Looking at Charles, their was no doubt that he was just as tired as she was; he was the athlete after all.
As he drove, he blinked continuously and rapidly, his tiredness evident. Her apartment was just around the corner, she realised as they were stuck in traffic. It wouldn't be the worst thing if they blew off the dinner, right?
"I live near here," she said, looking at him.
Charles blinked as he looked at the stationary cars in front of him. "Am I not taking you to dinner?" He asked, somewhat surprised.
"Well, I was thinking we could go back to my apartment and eat some pizza," she said.
"But what do we have to gain from that?"
That was right, everything they were doing had an objective. Everything they were doing had a purpose. Having dinner in her apartment, where there were no cameras to watch them, had no purpose.
"We wouldn't die on the road from you being so tired if we went back to mine."
Charles realised she had a point. When the traffic began moving, he took her directions and drover to her apartment. They made their way inside, practically collapsing on the couch.
"Sorry for the state of it," Y/N muttered as Charles sat on the sofa beside her.
Her apartment really was a mess. Clothes, dirty dishes, pizza boxes everywhere. It wasn't very royal of her. "Don't worry about it," he said quietly as Y/N gathered up the dishes and placed them on the counter in the adjacent kitchen.
Charles didn't want to ask, but he was wondering how the apartment of the Princess of Monaco was so disgusting. He hadn't even realised she had an apartment of her own, assumed she just lived at the palace.
"Can I get you something to drink?" Asked Y/N as soon as she had ordered the cheese and pepperoni pizzas. It was a safe choice, considering she didn't know what Charles wanted. "I've got beers, wine, spirits, anything you want."
She didn't hide her surprise when Charles requested a beer. "I thought you were all... fancy and stuff," she said as she handed him the opened bottle.
"The princess of Monaco is passing me a beer and she thinks I'm fancy," he said with a laugh.
But he was undeniably tired. His laugh turned into a yawn and Y/N turned on the television. They watched in silence as they waited for the pizza to arrive.
"I didn't think you'd be allowed to eat pizza," said Y/N as she checked her phone, checked where abouts the delivery driver was. Just a few minutes away. "You know, considering you're an athlete."
"I won't tell my trainer if you won't," he answered.
Just a few minutes later and Y/N was running to get the pizza. She didn't have to worry about disguising herself, running down to the lobby of the apartment in her comfiest pyjamas. She wasn't like her brother, where he was always prim and proper; she hid in plain sight.
When she came back up with the pizzas, Charles was already snoring lightly on the sofa. Y/N would have left him to sleep, left him on the sofa, but he hadn't eaten since his race. As soon as he'd eaten something, she'd let him go to sleep.
So, she gently woke him, placing one of the pizza boxes in front of him.
Again, they were in silence as they ate. But the food was giving them some sort of strength and energy and, by the time they were finished, neither were quite ready to go to sleep.
So, they talked. They talked and talked, properly getting to know each other. Charles told her stories of his karting days, of his friendship with those on the grid. Y/N told him about her childhood as a princess and her friendship with Fernando Alonso. She didn't get into the subject of her partying habit, not when she realised she didn't miss it.
"No way," Y/N scoffed, sipping her beer.
Charles laughed as he nodded his head. "Seriously. I woke up shouting 'box box'!" He insisted.
She let out a laugh of her own. "Looks like I'll need to have words with the strategists."
Their evening continued much in this fashion. She hadn't realised he was an artist, not until he showed her some music that he hadn't yet released. He was a talented pianist, and Y/N couldn't stop herself from calling him a tortured artist.
There was no way she was going to let him sleep on the sofa. That would be like letting the Queen of England sleep in the dog house. So, she let Charles sleep in her bed, a wall of pillows keeping them separated.
***
There was a shift in their relationship dynamic after that. Things came easier to them. They were still faking it, but they weren't putting on a performance anymore. It was natural.
When they weren't together, she found herself texting him. Any time she had something to say, she texted him, without caring whether he had time to text her back yet. When Y/N wasn't at a grand prix, Charles was pictured laughing at his phone, and everybody knew who he was texting
CL16
what do you want your contact picture to be?
Please don't make it something embarrassing
Oh come on, Charles
I doubt there are any embarrassing pictures of you
okay i take it back
oh god
look at this little guy
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you were so cute
what happened?
Hey!
I'm still cute!
The ladies love me
sure they do, sunshine
She found herself sending him anything and everything that made her laugh. Whether they knew of this shift, it wasn't clear.
But Henri certainly did.
The next part of this story takes place during the Belgian Grand Prix. Y/N hadn't attended. She'd been to the last few and, for once, her brother wanted to spend time with her.
"I'm impressed," Henri said as they sat on the balcony, tea in front of them. "You're selling this whole relationship really well."
But his sister wasn't listening. Instead, she was giggling down at her phone as she texted. "Y/N," Henri prompted and she looked up from the phone. "Can you put it down? I'm trying to have a conversation with you."
Reluctantly, Y/N put her phone on the table. "What were you saying, Hen?" She asked and picked up her little tea cup. The rim was decorated with pink, yellow and purple flowers.
"I was saying that you've really made this relationship with Charles look real. If I didn't know better, I really would think you were dating," said Henri. He straightened his posture and sipped his tea. "What is he doing during summer break?"
She shrugged her shoulders. Summer break was something they'd only briefly talked about, while Y/N was in his apartment, trying out his sim rig (spoiler alert, she was fucking terrible at sim racing. But it was still good fun, pretending to be her pretend boyfriend). He'd invited her on his yacht by literally saying, "join me on my yacht during summer?"
It was an invitation Y/N couldn't turn down, so she just said, "sure."
Henri continued. "Why don't you invite him to the palace for dinner?"
That was too much of a step into real relationship territory. Immediately she shook her head. "You do know that he isn't actually my boyfriend, right?" She pressed, placing her teacup back down onto the saucer.
Henri waved her off. "I know, I know," he said. "It would just be nice, you know?"
Suddenly Y/N felt a little sick. This was skidding way too far into relationship territory. Fake boyfriends didn't have dinner with her family, fake boyfriends didn't take him to her apartment just because he could.
The next time she saw Charles, Y/N was on his yacht. She laid in the sun, arm across her stomach and her eyes shut. It was lovely, so fucking lovely.
Charles sat beside her, passing her a drink. "Thank you, Charlie," she said with a smile as she sat up. "Best fake boyfriend ever." He patted her knee and stayed at beside her as the yacht gently moved on the water.
They spoke and, as they spoke, Y/N realised they never spoke about how fake their relationship was. In fact, Charles wasn't acting as though their relationship was fake. Even as they walked to his apartment, through the building and away from prying eyes, he still held her hand.
When she sat on his yacht, talking to him about whatever, he kept his hand on her knee.
As they day got later, the two began drinking. "To us," He called and tapped his glass against Y/N.
"To us," Y/N repeated and drank her drink. They slept on the yacht that night, with Y/N changing from her swim wear into something a little warmer as the sun disappeared.
They ate together, drank together, and just spent time together. It was nice, giggling and leaning on each other. Charles just loved spending time with her, it seemed. He gave her his hoodie when she shivered and, when that wasn't enough, he tucked her into his side.
They were both getting tired and were both ready to go to bed. Y/N glanced up at him from her place against his side. That was when he leaned down to kiss her.
Y/N stood up immediately. "Woah, what the fuck?" She cried as she jumped away from him. "Charles, what the hell are you doing?"
"I... Just thought..."
"Well you thought wrong!"
Y/N stormed off, heading to the bedroom. She set up the bed, placing the cushions between them. They'd slept in the same bed several times since that very first time in her apartment, but hadn't since.
The next day, she got Charles to take to back to the marina. Whether paparazzi saw them or not, she didn't care as she stormed away from him without so much as a goodbye.
OFF THE RAILS
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Just when we thought things were looking up for the Monégasque Princess, it seems she is, once again, off the rails.
Princess Y/N has spent the last few months seemingly dating Formula One driver, Charles Leclerc. In this time, it appeared that the princess had halted her wild ways. The clubs she so often frequented were quiet without her presence.
But, after a rocky night on his luxury yacht, the couple appeared to go their separate ways. The Princess was seen storming away from the yacht on Monday morning.
Fans had been hoping that this was just a little spat between the popular couple, but after the Princess was spotted partying in Monaco just the night previous, fans soon lost hope.
She'd done so well staying in the medias good books for the last few months. But, ever since that night on the yacht, Y/N needed to get out. She needed to get out and have a wild night.
She'd never been a relationship person. When Charles had gone to kiss her, she'd been terrified. Why be in a relationship person when every relationship you've had was somebody trying to screw you over?
Because she had loved every minute with Charles. Every fucking minute. For once it felt like she wasn't being used, and they weren't even in a relationship. But Y/N couldn't see a future with him, not one where at least one of them didn't get hurt.
So, she ran away from it. She ran from him and her feelings, ran back into the embrace of the bottle. She partied the night away without caring who saw it.
Of course Charles saw it. It was the first thing he saw when he opened any form of social media. Her face plastered across his screen. Her in a low cut dress that perfectly showed off her figure. He sucked in a breath. She was meant to be his girl, and she didn't want him.
Even though they weren't together anymore, Y/N did stop with the partying. She calmed down immensely, no longer appearing in the tabloids. No longer appearing anywhere, actually.
Charles tried his best to forget about her. He didn't sleep around, he just put all of his energy into his work. He took sponsorship deals, did photoshoots and spent all of his time training. All to get Y/N out of his head.
Well, it didn't work. Charles couldn't forget about her. It was taking everything in him not to go to her apartment and tell her how he had fallen for her while they were supposed to be pretending to date.
Charles messaged Henri, asked how Y/N was doing, but Henri didn't seem to know.
That was because she hadn't been seen outside of her apartment in weeks.
When Henri told Charles, he knew he had to do something.
After attending the Italian Grand Prix alone, Charles made his way to Y/N's apartment. He had all of his things, having not made his way back to his own apartment.
When he knocked on her door, there was a moment before anything happened. He listened out, listening as she got off of the couch with a groan and walked over to the door.
The girl that answered the door was the girl that Charles was in love with, but she was hard to recognise. Hair a mess, bags under her eyes, wearing clothes that hadn't been washed in days.
When she pulled open the door, her face dropped. "Oh," she muttered, leaning against the door, not letting him see the mess inside. "What are you doing here?"
"Your brother told me you're not doing good."
"So?"
She was so quick to shut him down, to try and get him away from her apartment.
But, Charles pushed on. "So, I came to check on you. I'm worried about you."
Finally, she pushed open the door and allowed him inside.
The apartment was a state. Trash everywhere, dirty clothes about the floor, all of her dishes used and piled up around the apartment. There was half eaten food that was definitely rotting.
"Shit, Y/N," said Charles as she pushed the door shut.
She glared and threw herself back down onto the sofa. "Oh, fuck off," she said.
Charles sat on the end of the couch. It was the only place in the apartment that filthy. "I just want to help you," he said and began picking up the clothes on her floor.
And then Y/N sat up, causing Charles to stop what he was doing. "Why? Our entire relationship was fake, so why do you care?" She spat.
"Because." Charles stood up a little straighter, dropping her clothes into a little pile. "Because I love you. I know we were only fake dating, but it felt so real! And I realised that I actually do love you! I want to date you for real! I want to be the best real boyfriend ever, not the best fake boyfriend ever!" He exclaimed. "I don't know why you're so opposed to the idea. Those dates we went one, the ones after that first night in your apartment, they were amazing. I wouldn't have invited you to my yacht if I didn't seriously like you."
Y/N scoffed sarcastically. "Sure you do, Charles. Sure you, a world famous Formula One driver who can have anybody he wants, wants me, the troubled spare, the princess that nobody wants." She said it quietly, picking at her nails.
He leaned down in front of her, taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. "I do. I really do want to be with you. Princess Y/N of Monaco, I want to take you on dates and I want you to join me at races. I want to show you off in the paddock and I want to take you on my yacht, kissing you with your permission. I want you, Y/N."
But the way she looked at him, she looked ready to cry. "I can't do heartbreak," she said and pulled her hand away from his. "Not with you, Charles. I can't handle you breaking my heart," she said and stood up.
Charles suddenly pulled her close. "I won't break your heart," he whispered and kissed the top of her head. "Now, go take a shower. I'll sort out... all of this."
Y/N did just that. She turned on the water and hopped into the shower as Charles picked up the rubbish. Mainly empty wrappers and bottles of soft drinks. There were plenty of pizza boxes that he shoved behind the bin, just for the time being. After that, Charles picked up her clothes from the floor. He shoved what he could into her washing machine and turned it on, leaving to pick up the plates.
When Y/N hopped out of the shower, the apartment wasn't clean. But it was better. The floor was now visible. As Charles cleared up the space between the couch and the television, Y/N set about washing the dishes.
"Pizza?" Charles offered as he walked over with some half full glasses and cups.
But Y/N shook her head as she scrubbed a bowl that was once full of cereal. "You know, for the first time in a while, I'm not feeling like pizza."
"We'll get you something better, then," Charles said and set about ordering food.
They sat on the couch, Y/N in the last of her clean clothes, tucked into his side. "If we're gonna try this, we'll need to go on proper dates," she muttered, her head against his chest. "And, eventually, you'll need to come and have dinner with my family."
Charles let out a laugh. "Relax, chérie, we're gonna take it one step at a time."
One step at a time.
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yournowheregirl · 1 year
Text
Let it be known that Eddie Munson hates big box stores. They represent everything he’s against: a big piece of capitalist bullshit that underpays its workers and pump out unnecessary products like it’s nothing. 
And yet, he finds himself in a Target on a random Sunday evening.
He’s not quite sure how he got roped into doing Chrissy’s shopping for her, something about ‘owing her a favor’ and ‘making up for all the times she had take out the garbage when it was his turn to do so’ or whatever that means. But here he is anyway, pushing a bright red shopping cart in search of every item on her list so she can go on her date with that girl from the concert in peace. The things you do for friends.
Eddie finds the first few items quite easily - they’re on sale and easy to spot with the big display in the middle of the aisle - but once he gets to the fourth item on her list: Fresh Cotton scented candle, he starts to panic just a little.
Why are there so many fucking candles?
He rubs a hand over his face in attempt to make himself focus on the rows and rows of glass jars in front of him, taking a deep breath before he starts looking for the Fresh Cotton scented candle Chrissy wants. Only to find out, there aren’t any.
There is Pure Linen and Natural Cotton and even one that’s called Laundry Day - whatever the fuck that’s supposed to smell like - but there is not one candle that says Fresh Cotton. 
Okay. Okay. He can do this. He knows Chrissy like the back of his hand, he’s smelled that candle practically every day, he can totally figure out which candle she wants. 
Eddie grabs the first candle that’s vaguely named after a fabric and smells it, but that one isn’t the one he’s looking for. He tries another (closer, but not quite the same) and another (doesn’t even smell like cotton in the slightest), until he’s smelled practically every cotton-linen-laundry candle in the store and his nose has become immune to any smell whatsoever.
Christ, he really is a terrible best friend if he can’t even get her shopping list right.
Something red flashes by in the corner of his eye and Eddie immediately perks up and chases after it. He stops himself from screaming in victory when he sees that he was right and that there is in fact a Target employee in a red polo walking in the main aisle.
“Excuse me!” Eddie calls out. “Excuse me! Can you help me?”
The guy in the red polo turns around and whoa- Eddie didn’t know that they were hiring actual models to work at Target. He’s pretty sure he’s never met a big box store employee that looks this good - with floppy golden brown hair and a chest that fills out that red Target polo really nicely.
“Uh yes?”
“Great!” Eddie gestures the Target guy to follow him back to the candle aisle and grabs the two candles that he thinks are the closest to what Chrissy wants. “Which one of these is Fresh Cotton?”
Target guy frowns and takes the candles from Eddie’s hands, his hazel eyes narrowing as he reads the labels. “Neither? This one is Clean Cotton and the other one is Crisp Cotton.”
“Yes, yes, I know. But Target used to sell Fresh Cotton, I think, at least that’s what my friend’s shopping list says.” Eddie rambles. “So I guess my question is which one used to be Fresh Cotton and got renamed or whatever.”
“Huh.” Target guy shrugs and takes the lid off both the candles, carefully sniffing each of them before finally handing Clean Cotton back to Eddie. “This one smells the most cotton-y to me, so I’d go with this one, dude.”
Eddie feels his eyes light up with relief as he clutches the candle to his chest. “Christ, that’s a relief. Thank you...” He trails off, searching Target guy’s polo for a name tag, only to come up empty.
“Steve.” 
“Thank you, Steve.” Eddie beams. He puts the candle into his shopping cart and rummages through the pocket of his leather jacket until he finds Chrissy’s shopping list. Scented candle? Check. “Look, I gotta go. I have at least twenty other things on this list and- hey!”
In one quick motion, Steve has grabbed the shopping list from Eddie’s hands, scanning the items on the list and the items in the cart with precision. 
“Dude. Your friend asked for shampoo and conditioner. You bought them that two-in-one crap.” Steve scoffs.
“Is that... bad? Seems to me like it gets the job done faster.” Eddie shrugs.
“Is that bad, he asks. If your friend cares just a little bit about their hair, they’d be devastated.” Steve chuckles. “C’mere, I’ll help you.”
Before Eddie can even protest, Steve has taken his shopping cart from under his nose and gestures for Eddie to follow him. Huh, personal shoppers must be a new thing at Target. He just hopes that Steve doesn’t charge him a surprise hundred dollar fee at the end of the shopping trip.
Turns out, a personal shopper like Steve comes in handy for a Target virgin like Eddie. Steve (obviously) knows the store like the back of his hand and seems to know a lot about the products they sell as well - from the difference between normal and purple shampoo for blonde hair to the package of colored notebooks that Chrissy needs for the next semester. His knowledge is impressive and Eddie can’t help but stare and listen to every word that rolls of Target Guy Steve’s tongue.
(And if he lets a flirty remark or two slip just to see a twinkle in Steve’s eyes in between the shop talk, that’s nobody’s business but his own)
He is a bit confused when Steve starts loading things into the cart that aren’t on Chrissy’s lists, though. Things like highlighters and staples and various arts and crafts supplies. 
“What are those?” Eddie asks.
“Hmm?” Steve hums, following Eddie’s gaze to where it’s looking at the small pots of paint in his hands “Oh. Those are for me.”
“You can do that?”
“Uh yeah? That’s the point of a store?”
“Right.” Eddie nods. “Yeah, I mean, duh. Just didn’t know you were allowed to shop on company time.” 
“Right...” Steve blinks at him in response.
They go through the rest of the list fairly quickly, much to Eddie’s disappointment. When he first set foot inside the store, he wanted to leave as fast as he could, but now that he’s got Steve around, he doesn’t really want this shopping trip to end. 
At least not without Steve’s number saved in his phone. 
There are only a few people in line at the register when they arrive and Steve immediately starts putting his things on the checkout belt. As he waits, Eddie lets his eyes linger at Steve’s toned back, at the way the red fabric stretches over the muscles there, at the way those jeans look practically painted on.
Yeah, he really has to get that number before he gets out of here.
“You probably get employee discount, right? Must be nice.” Eddie grins as he starts putting his stuff on the checkout belt.
Steve cocks his head to the side. “No?”
Christ, not giving your employees a discount in your own store is a new low, even for a big company like Target. “Oh sorry, man. That sucks.”
“I mean, I have my teacher’s discount.” Steve shrugs.
Hold up. What?
“Your what?”
“My teacher’s discount?” Steve repeats. “I’m an elementary school teacher and I get a small discount on stuff I need for my class? Like these art supplies?”
“You- you don’t work here?” Eddie squeaks, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Oh God, did he just drag a random stranger through a store and make him listen to all of his stupid problems with Chrissy’s shopping lists? This is embarrassing, even for him. “Fuck, I thought- I mean with the polo and- Christ, I’m so sorry.”
But luckily for Eddie, Steve doesn’t seem mad in the slightest. In fact, he just laughs, all bright and clear. “It’s alright, really.”
“But wait, if you don’t work here, why did you help me?” Eddie asks, ignoring the hopeful feeling that starts to bloom in his stomach. 
Steve ducks his head for a second, suppressing a grin, before looking back up at Eddie through his eyelashes and fuck, he has no right to look this hot in a freaking polo shirt. 
“Because I thought you were cute.”
A bright Target red blush settles over Eddie’s cheeks and there’s nowhere to hide, not even behind his hair because his dumb self from two hours earlier decided to put it up in a high bun. 
“Plus, you looked like you were this close to having a panic attack in the middle of the candle aisle.” Steve shrugs. “I’ve been there, and trust me, it’s not a good look.”
The honesty in his voice makes Eddie cackle so loud that even the cashier turns her head to see what all the commotion is about. 
“You’re ridiculous.” Eddie says when his laughter dies down.
“Maybe.” Steve says, his eyes already twinkling with amusement. “But did it work?”
Eddie really can’t say no to that.
(He leaves Target that night with two shopping bags filled with Chrissy’s things and a date with Steve the next weekend.)
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fictionalmenmakemecry · 4 months
Text
Pretty Little Outfit
Characters: Carmy Berzatto x reader(fem!)
Summary: With a new job in your grasp, you decide it's time for some new work outfits. Carmy realizes that he can't get over a new skirt that you bought, only to find out you've unlocked a new kink of his.
Warnings: SMUT (fem oral), cursing, masturbation, hair pulling.
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A/N: WOOOOO seeing him in the CK ad only feeds the hunger I have for him. Lord have mercy.. This man has too much of a grip on me. Let's say Carmy isn't the greatest at oral first but with a lot of practice (that I'm not against) he would have me in a chokehold. Just one night. That's all I'm asking.
Anyway.. my rant is done!
Enjoy :)
"I look ridiculous" you huffed, looking at yourself in the mirror. You self-consciously pulled at the pencil skirt that was clinging your curves.
You just got a new job and it was in the contract that formal office wear was expected. When you went into the office for the interview, you noticed no one was wearing jeans and sweaters. It was all slacks, skirts and blazers.
You had spent the day frantically running store to store trying to make a new closet for the job that you gladly accepted the previous day.
You started Monday, and you were petrified. You had experience, but you never were in such a high-end environment which you felt also had very high expectations of their employees.
You cursed to yourself as you adjusted the new bra you also bought. It was uncomfortable and tight as hell.
"Fuck" You cursed, feeling panic set in.
You turned around analyzing your clothes to realise that from the back of your white shirt, you could see your bra straps clearly. The one decent shirt you felt somewhat comfortable and it was see through.
You groaned, bringing your hands to your face. Usually, you didn't give a shit but you had a feeling HR wouldn't feel the same.
You took a deep breath in and stood up straight, looking back into the mirror.
"Good morning," you smiled brightly, pretending to lean into a handshake towards the mirror. You were trying to imagine yourself in these clothes in an unknown environment. The more you looked at yourself, the more you started to overthink.
His eyes were on you through the gap on the ajar door. His stare traveled the length of your body and paused at your hips, shifting to your ass. He bit his lip, trying to hold back any audible moan he felt climb up through his throat.
Carmy rarely ever saw you in skirts. He didn't think he had a thing for them but when he unexpectedly came home to see you in the bedroom trying on some clothes he couldn't take his eyes away.
You didn't know he was home. He felt bad spying on you, but he couldn't pull himself away.
Carmy leaned against the door frame, being careful not to make the wood creak. He watched as you bend over to grab something from the clothes bag. His eyes fell on your cleave, which showed through the reflection of the mirror. Your soft plump breasts pressing against the shirt.
He swallowed, feeling his crotch getting tighter and tighter. The material straining against his growing dick.
The thoughts that spun in his head, with your legs up on his shoulder, the skirt riding up as he drilled into you. His eyes darkened, imagining you all roughed up in your office wear. Make up smudged, skirt rolled up, shirt wrinkled. Your pretty little outfit completely fucked in. Tainted. Corrupted.
He shook his head softly, trying to clear his mind. He needed to pull himself together before he completely unraveled at the door.
You heard a gentle knock on the door. You saw Carmy enter in while looking at the mirror.
"Hi babe" you greeted, giving a soft smile.
You turned around to see his eyes locked on your body. He stood there in a white t-shirt and jeans with his arms above his head, and his mouth scrunched up like he was trying to hold himself back.
"What ya think?" You did a spin, feeling his stare.
The more he stared, the shyier you got.
"Uh y-you look unbelievable," He stuttered, raising his eyebrows.
"I don't know.. I think the skirt is too tight. I can barely walk in it"
You turned back around, showing him the back of it. To which he brought his hand to his face, trying to hide the fact he was forcefully biting his lip. Your eyes flickered to him, and in that moment, you saw the haze in his eyes.
A small smirk crept up on your face.
Your hands ran over your thighs, flattening out any wrinkles in the skirt and seeing your hands travel, wanted Carmy's hands to be there even more.
You continued to look in the mirror briefly, bringing your flirtatious stare back to him through the mirror.
"What do you think about my hair up?" You gather the ends of your hair loosely, holding it there with one hand while looking at him teasingly.
He licked his dry lips and gazed at your neck. He took a couple of steps forward, getting closer behind you. You knew you had him.
You would do it every time you were on top. As you would grind on him, you would bring your hair up the same way. It would only make he want to flip you over and get to that one weak spot you had. The one angle he knew made your shake in complete pleasure. He would feel you milk him, and he would lose it.
With that thought vivid in his head, he leans down and kisses your exposed neck gently. You felt his soft lips pressed against your hot skin.
He placed his hands on your hips and moved them down your sides while you both watched him make his way to your ass.
You let out a light gasp, feeling his grip get tighter.
"Jesus- feel what you're doing to me" He whispered in your ear. You felt goosebumps raise on the back of your neck.
He leaned in closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You felt his stiffened dick pressed against your ass. You could feel everything in this tight skirt. His stare was dripping with lust, just want your body rubbing up against his.
"Is this a new bra?" He asked flirtatiously
His hands bring your focus up to your chest, where you watch him lightly trace his finger on top of your cup.
"Mmm hmmm" you hummed, feeling like putty in his grasp.
"Can I get a better look?" He whispered, side eyeing you in the mirror.
You nodded, angling your head to the side as he kissed you a few more times down the neck. He started to unbuttoned one button after another, starting from the bottom, making his way up. With the last button popping open, the shirt gave a peek to your new bra you were wearing. The tip of his fingers gently pulled the shirt away from you, giving him full view from the mirrors reflection.
A small croak escaped his throat, and you heard him swallow, trying to hide it.
He brought his hand up to your new bra and massaged your breast while he pulled his stare up to your eyes. He watched as yours glazed over. He continued to watch you crumble in front of him. He felt you push your ass out, asking him to grind up against you more.
"Carmy... my new clothes.." You whined, feeling yourself get more lost as he felt more of you.
"Keep the skirt on" He ordered, spinning you around and bringing his hands to your face.
"But-"
"But nothing, I'll buy you a new outfit, but.. keep it on," His stare darkened as he played with your lips.
He leaned down, kissing your neck all the way down your chest. He gave wet open kisses to the top of your breasts, massaging them with both hands. You looked down and watched his curls move as he made his way further down. You felt him hike up your skirt, giving him more access to the heat between your legs.
His fingers lightly traveled up the inside of your thighs until he felt a moist patch.
"Fuck, you're all ready for me" He moaned lightly, kissing your covered pussy.
You felt his fingers move your underwear to the side, making them slick with your arousal as he played with your folds. He focused on your clit lightly making you fall into him a little, leaning on his shoulder from the welcomed pressure of his fingers.
He smirked to himself, looking up at you as he worked his fingers back and slowly slipped them in with ease. One finger teasingly first, but he could feel your hunger for the second. With ease, he added another finger.
"Oh shit," you gasped, spreading your legs more trying to hold yourself up.
"Mhmm, good girl," he praised, gently pumping his fingers out of you.
One of your hands went to his hair, and you placed the other one flat against the wall.
Your breath only got more and more shakey. You looked down and watched him bringing his mouth your clit. The sole sight made you pulse. You felt his soft lips pressed against wet ones. His relaxed tongue licking your sensitive bud. Your whole body quivered underneath his tender touch.
You felt yourself building, the pleasurable rhythm his fingers moved at and him sucking your clit made you fight against the urge of climbing higher and higher. You closed your eyes and listened to the wet sounds he was making with his mouth.
Fingers on his other hand were digging into your thigh, holding you steady. His curls tickled your abdomen with every movement he made.
Him watching you above only made him harder. He wanted you to let go. He opened his mouth, giving you wet kisses on your clit, with some light sucking. He pulled away and watched the mess you were. Your chest heaving, your hair tossed, and your brows furrowed with pleasure. He could stare at you forever like this.
"Use me." He breathed out
You opened your eyes to see him gazing up at you. His eyes flickered down to his hand, while his fingers continued to disappear in you.
"W-what?" You stuttered, it getting harder and harder for you to concentrate.
"Use me," He repeated, staring at you with his blown out pupils.
He placed his free hand on top yours that was in his hair. You felt him tighten your grip on his hair.
A grunt came out of his mouth and in that moment, you realized he liked his hair getting pulled.
Your mouth fell open to the thought of him being at your mercy. You watched as he eagerly brought his mouth back to pulsing core.
His tongue lovingly licking your bundle of nerves, with his lips wrapping around and sucking every so often. He could feel your wall gripping onto his fingers. He knew you were close.
"Carmyyy.." You whined, gripping onto his curls.
You felt yourself slowly start to grind your hips into him. A muffled groan came from him, the sound traveling straight to your clit. You fumbled, feeling it travel up your spine.
You felt his hand lift your leg over his shoulder, bringing him deeper into your folds. His finger tips traveled up and down your thigh as he devoured your pussy.
He watched you whimpering out and calling out his name weakly. He couldn't resist, and brought his hand down, palming his harden self in his tight jeans. He hastily unbuckled and unzipped them, giving him a little bit of relief and ease of access. Calvin Klein briefs peeked out from the undone jeans and were stretched against his bulge. He felt the moistness in his underwear from the continuous leaking cock. He half-ass pulled out it, giving himself some relieving strokes from the sight of you fucking his face.
With his sucks and kisses getting sloppier, he passionately focused on your throbbing pussy. He knew you couldn't last much longer. Hell, he wasn't going to last much longer. He pulled his hand away from his begging erection and wrapped his arm around your thigh. He gently nursing your throbbing clit with his tongue. Slowly, he added his index finger, feeling your lips suck them in as he pumped more.
You looked down and saw his blue love-drunken eyes on you, with a smirk on his face. He started angling his hand, sending another wave through you.
"Oh god.." You cried out, leaning more of your weight on to him.
He pulled his glistening mouth away, "Come f'me," His breath rugged and heavy.
"Carrmmyy-"
"Ssshhh, come on baby girl" He rasped, kissing your inner thigh.
You couldn't fight it anymore. You felt the pressure of pleasure build fast.
"Keep g-goin'" you whined, your hands tangled in his hair.
He leaned in and went back to sucking your clit. He felt your hips faulter feeling his tongue there again. Your thrusts became more desperate as you chased the high that he was inflicting on your pussy. He looked up seeing your mouth open in pure ecstasy.
You felt his fingers hit that one spot over and over again and mixed with his tongue lapping up your clit, you couldn't hold on any longer.
"Carm- Babe... I'm comin-" You gasped, your grip tightening on his hair.
He hungrily devouring your pussy, sucking on your clit and lips as your legs shook around him.
As he watched you fall apart in front of him, he couldn't hold back anymore. He impulsively brought his hand down to his weeping cock and stroked himself eagerly while lapping up your juices. He felt you tug his hair harder, and with that he let out a pleasurable moan.
The wave washed over you with the tension in your body melting away with orgasm. Your head fell back, breathing rapidly, trying to recover from the rush that was still flowing in your veins.
Your eyes fluttered open, and fell on Carmy below you gently kissing your outer lips before easing his fingers out of you, his hand completely covered in your juices. He pecked your inner thigh a couple of times before bringing your leg down from his shoulder.
As he pulled away from you, your eyes landed on white globs all over the bottom of his white t-shirt.
"Babe... Did you?" You asked a cheeky smile crept up on your face.
"Yea- Yeah I did" He looked down and chuckled.
You leaned down bringing him into a kiss, tasting yourself off of him. His tongue brushing against yours. With him still on his knees, he gently pulled down, the now, wrinkled pencil skirt.
"I think I owe you a skirt" He grinned, as you helped him up to his feet,
"I think so." You looked down, flattening the wrinkled with both hands.
"Are you going to be wearing skirts every day?" He raised an eyebrow, playing with the buttons on your shirt.
"Uh.. Most likely"
He sucked in his lips and glanced away for a moment.
"That's going to be hard" He hummed bringing his blue eyes back down to yours.
"I'll make sure it won't be an issue" You winked before giggling
A smile played on his lips before he leaned into give you a tender kiss.
"Here, let's get this off," you tugged the bottom of his t-shirt.
He raised his arms, letting you slip the shirt off of him and being met with his toned chest that only made you want to go for round two.
You could feel your sensitive pussy murmur awake from the thought of him bending you over and railing you. The thought made your stomach twist with excitement.
"C'mon, let's go take a shower" You teasingly smiled, and grabbed his undone belt that was still wrapped around his jeans making him follow you to the bathroom obediently.
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ceresun · 4 months
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𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐎𝐄.
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It seems as if Rosie’s new assistant has caught the eye of the one and only radio demon..
pairing : alastor x fem! reader
extra : fem! reader ⟡ word count - 0.6k⟡ reblogs are greatly appreciated and encouraged! ⟡ alastor is probably a bit ooc and it might be cringe ⟡ also reader is a doe :3 ⟡
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“Y/N, DARLING!” ROSIE YELLS OUT from the counter. Working at the Emporium alway called for restocks of a variety of things at every hour, ranging from fresh ankles to the classiest of hats. Walking over to the counter, you wonder what Rosie would have you restocking this time.
“Let me guess, it’s the gowns this time?” You ask playfully, not yet having noticed the peculiar man to the right of your manager.
Rosie looks confused before shaking her head and bringing attention to the man by her side. “No, no, darling! No need for restocks on the gowns just yet. I wanted you to meet one of my dear old friends!” She says, bringing your attention to the smiling man. “Now, where are your manners, Alastor? Introduce yourself!” She teases.
“Ah, yes, how could I forget my manners. I am Alastor, pleasure to meet you, darling doe!” He introduces, his almost sinister grin never leaving his face.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you too. I’m Y/N, one of Rosie’s assistants here at the Emporium!” You say with a joyful smile, sticking out your hand to shake hands with him.
He instead grabs your hand in his, and presses a soft kiss onto it. Rosie giggles, watching the two of you interact before teasing Alastor. “Well aren’t you quite the gentleman! Don’t go around stealing my employees, now! Then we’d have a problem.”
“Don’t you worry your pretty little head, Rosie. Besides, your darling doe would be in great hands! Isn’t that right, doe?” He asks, smiling down at you.
You stutter, not knowing what to say. They both chuckle before a customer approaches and taps your shoulder, trying to get your attention. You turn around and ask if they needed anything.
“Yes, I was wondering if you could show me where the beautiful scarves are? I saw them around here last week and can’t seem to find them anymore..” They ask.
You agree to help them and take them over to where the scarves were, leaving Alastor and Rosie to talk by themselves. Rosie turns towards Alastor and asks, “Now, be serious, have you seriously taken an interest in her? Or is this some weird thing you’re playing at?”
“It truly wounds me to hear these accusations my dear Rosie! I do think she is quite an interesting thing as much as you may not believe it, it’s true.” Alastor responds, placing his hand on his chest, feigning his feelings of hurt.
“Yes, well it seems that I have to get back to working. It was nice seeing you here again, Alastor! Till next time, dear!” She says before turning around and making her way behind the counter and starting to take orders.
Alastor sees you around the corner of the shelves and makes his way over to you. “Well hello there, doe!” He says, sneaking up behind you and startling you.
You jump, not expecting him to appear out of nowhere. “Is there something you need help with?” You ask softly.
“Can I not talk to my dear doe without needing something?” He teases before continuing. “I just wanted to say my goodbyes to you. Is that so wrong?” He jokes before ruffling your hair, making your ears flop around a bit.
“Oh, in that case goodbye then, Alastor. It was a pleasure meeting you!” You respond, smiling softly towards him.
“Please, the pleasure is all mine. I must be going along now. Don’t miss me too much!” He teases, grinning widely. “Till next time, darling doe.”
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© ceresun >ᴗ< -> my works are not to be translated or reposted without permission!
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runnning-outof-time · 2 months
Text
Hasn’t Burned Down Yet | Tommy Shelby x Reader
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Request: yes by @asherlockfandom
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader
Summary: (Y/N) proves that she's still not one to be messed with when it comes to her business. Tommy's happy he's not the one in the line of fire this time.
Warnings: drinking, mentions of smoking
Word Count: 3475
A/N: I’m sorry it took me so long to share this one with y’all…I’ve been going through it lately hah. I had a bunch of fun writing it though. I hope you like it. Enjoy! :)
A/N 2: this can be read as a standalone, but to really know the Tommy and (Y/N) in this story, I suggest you check out the first part: The House’ll Burn Down…you can find it HERE.
I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!
Comment/Message me if you’d like to be tagged!
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"Someone's waiting up front for you, (Y/N)," Anna, one of (Y/N)'s employees, announced as she came into the back of the shop.
"Tell them I'll be out in five," (Y/N) responded, her eyes not leaving the latest sketch she was working on.
"He's not the sort that you keep waiting," Anna stated, her words making (Y/N) look up. The latter expected to see a look of worry on the former's face. Instead a slight smile was present.
"Ok...?" (Y/N) trailed off sounding slightly confused as she stood from her desk and walked to the front of the shop. Her brow stayed furrowed until she made it to the front counter and saw who was waiting for her.
"You forgot about my appointment, didn't you?" the man waiting out front asked, his one eyebrow quirked as a smirk played on his lips.
"Just come back, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) dismissed his teasing question, trying her best to hide her smile as she motioned to him, making Tommy walk around the counter to join her.
"I've got the front," Anna announced, smiling at her boss.
"Thank you, Anna," (Y/N) nodded, sending the younger woman a smile before she began to walk back to the workroom.
"Why do you insist on keeping appointments here?" (Y/N) questioned as she led him to one of the fitting rooms. "This could be done on our own time, you know."
"I thought it was you who insisted on keeping a separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" Tommy commented with a grin, following her into the fitting room before he took hold of her arm and spun her to face him. He pressed his lips to hers and slipped his arms around her waist before she could say a word.
"Separation between business and pleasure, hmm?" she quipped once they'd pulled away, a smirk playing on her lips.
"Was you who wanted it, not me," he reminded her, sending a wink her way. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at the gesture, but she couldn't stop her smile from growing. "Wanted to do that from the second I saw you out there," he admitted then.
"Well I'm happy you were able to control yourself, Mr. Shelby," (Y/N) commented, patting his chest.
"I try my best, Mrs. Shelby," he responded, making her let out a breath of a laugh before she leaned in and kissed him again. "Your composure's easy to crack," he commented with a grin once they pulled away.
"Let's just get this finished with...before I become upset with you," (Y/N) said with a smile, pushing on his chest to break their embrace so that she could grab the things she needed to begin taking measurements.
Truthfully she knew the measurements of her husband by now, but Tommy still insisted on these fittings. He wanted to make sure that things were perfect. It wasn't that he doubted his wife's work, if anything it was because this gave him another chance to spend some time with her. Time was something that neither had much of due to their busy schedules.
Surely you’ve noticed by now that things have - obviously - changed between (Y/N) and Tommy. It most certainly didn't happen overnight though. After (Y/N) put Tommy in his place, she fully expected him to take his business elsewhere. But he stuck around, and when he realized that she wasn't going to change how she dealt with him, he decided to change his approach. One thing led to another and eventually, as of two months ago, (Y/N) found herself with a new surname. She honestly couldn't think of a time where she's been as happy as she is now.
Along with getting married, (Y/N)'s business has also taken off. She's now one of the most respected tailors in not only Small Heath, but the entirety of Birmingham. She worked hard to gain her reputation, and all of the countless hours that she spent mastering her craft have certainly paid off.
"What will you be wearing to the event?" Tommy decided to make conversation whilst (Y/N) was still taking measurements.
"Since when is that something you care about?" she playfully quipped in response as she moved over to her clipboard and wrote a few notes before returning to him.
"I want to make sure you match me," he gave his reason.
"Oh I'll make sure you do, darling," she smiled at him, her eyes finding his for just a moment before she motioned for him to hold his arms out so that she could take the measurements for his suit's jacket.
She bit on her bottom lip to try and conceal the smile as she brought her tape measure up and held it against the underneath of his arm. She did this to both sides before moving it down to hold it against his torso. She really had to bite on her bottom lip as she slowly moved her hand down along his ribs. Just like she expected him to, Tommy flinched the second her fingers touched the space below his ribs.
"Stop moving," she teasingly chastised him, continuing on with making her measurements.
Tommy just grunted in response, watching her closely as she finished with his left side and moved onto his right. Here she slowed her actions down substantially. He couldn't help but flinch again when her fingers brushed over that same spot.
"I said stop moving, Thomas," she rebuked him again, lifting her gaze up to match his, showing him the smile that was present on her features.
"You know what you're doing," he commented, his eyes narrowing as they stayed locked onto hers.
"I do," she chirped, tilting her chin upwards, "very well."
"Then you should know..." he trailed off, a mischievous glint flashing in his eyes, "that I know those exact same spots on you," he paused, his eyes dropping to sneak a glance at her frame, "very well," he finished his statement by reaching out and pressing his fingers into the skin of her sides, where she was extremely ticklish.
These actions made (Y/N) shriek and quickly drop her hands so that she could try to get him to stop what he was doing. It wasn't an easy feat. "Tommy, stop!" she exclaimed through her giggles, finally managing to get ahold of his hands and pull them from her sides after a few moments had passed. "We're supposed to be professional here," she hissed at him then, trying her best to hide the smile that just wouldn't stay away. She stopped trying when she noticed that he was already smiling.
"Fair enough," he nodded, showing that he was conceding to her. "Finish your measurements."
(Y/N) let go of his hands with a huff and bent down to grab the tape measure that had been discarded when this all started. They then sent each other a look: (Y/N) to check if he was really finished with his previous tirade, and Tommy to tell her 'no more funny business'.
The stare down lasted a few moments, but nothing else happened once (Y/N) resumed taking her measurements. The only time the envelope was pushed was when Tommy spun (Y/N) around and managed to sneak a kiss just before she crossed the threshold into the front of the shop.
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(Y/N) made sure that Tommy's suit complimented her dress for the gala they were attending that evening. She had picked out a royal blue evening gown, and made sure that Tommy's suit was a charcoal color and had a blue tie to bring it together. She also wanted to include a blue pocketsquare but Tommy fought it, saying that the tie was enough. (Y/N) finally conceded when Frances came and announced that their car had arrived, instead telling Tommy that he'd need to make this up to her in some way.
Now the event was in full swing. (Y/N) stayed by Tommy's side, joining him in the conversations that he was having. She was able to add meaningful viewpoints, and Tommy appreciated that. Her presence was way more than just a prize on his arm.
"Mr. Shelby, I must bring attention to the fine suit you've got on," Elliot Thorsby, a man who was a prominent figure in automobile sales, began as he approached the couple. (Y/N)'s smile grew as she heard what he said. The suit she made had been getting compliments like this one all evening. "Might I ask where you had it made?"
"Me wife’s the one who made it," Tommy was happy to share, nodding his head to the woman standing on his right. "She makes all of my suits."
"Ahh," Elliot responded, looking surprised as he nodded slowly. "Is she open to taking on new clients?" he asked then, still speaking to Tommy.
"Now that's something that I wouldn't know personally," Tommy began, glancing over at his wife before he continued, "why don't you ask her yourself?"
Elliot held Tommy's gaze for a few beats before it seemed like he snapped out of whatever bubble he was in. That was when he finally turned his attention to (Y/N). "Are you taking new clients, Mrs. Shelby?" he asked, his bushy eyebrows raised in wait.
(Y/N) took a moment to respond to the question. She figured that he deserved to wait a few moments longer. After all it was him who decided to ask it indirectly in the first place. And she honestly quite enjoyed watching him squirm in his spot; obviously not used to being on the receiving side of this sort of situation.
"Well I've already got quite the schedule lined up, but for you, Mr. Thorsby, I'd be willing to make an exception," she finally informed him of her decision, a professional smile gracing her features.
"You would?" he sounded elated, almost like a kid on Christmas.
"I would," she affirmed with a nod.
"Wonderful," Elliot grinned. He paused as a man came to his side and whispered something in his ear. "You'll need to excuse me now, a business matter has come up. We'll reconnect at the end of the evening and schedule a time," he told the Shelby couple once the other man had left.
"That sounds fine," (Y/N) nodded at him, then accepting the handshake that Elliot extended to both her and Tommy. He was the first to leave the conversation, leaving the husband and wife to turn to each other.
"Got you another client," Tommy commented on the previous coversation as he fished the tin of cigarettes out of his pocket.
"We'll see how it goes," (Y/N) answered in a nonchalant manner, smiling at her husband as she shrugged her shoulders.
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The earliest Elliot Thorsby was able to come to (Y/N)'s shop in Small Heath was two weeks after their initial conversation date.
She greeted him with a smile before telling Anna that she'd be taking this client and that the younger woman should man the desk while she was gone. Once everything was squared away in that regard, (Y/N) waved on Elliot for him to come back with her.
Things went well with the fitting. (Y/N) was able to get a good read on what Elliot wanted and had some great ideas for a design before she was even finished with the measurements. Now she couldn't wait to get some time alone to get started on her beginning sketches. But first she had to see Mr. Thorsby out.
The two returned to the front of the store. (Y/N) told Anna that she was able to return to her previous project, leaving her and Mr. Thorsby alone at the counter. She quickly got to work on calculating the price of the fitting visit and also what the suit would cost. She then shared that final price with him without second thought.
A few moments passed and Elliot still hadn't offered up the money yet. This made (Y/N) glance up from the ledger she was writing down the sale in. "Is there a problem?" she asked with raised brows, immediately noticing the sour look that was present on his face.
"Don't you think the price is a bit...much?" he questioned her.
"No, sir. It's spot on with what I normally charge," there was no hesitation in her answer.
"Yeah, but..." he trailed off, obviously not pleased with the response he was given. "But given my relationship with your husband, and the business we've conducted together…” he paused again, “well don't you think that warrants a lesser price?"
It took everything in (Y/N) to stop the scoff that she wanted to let out in response to his statement. It made her look of confusion quickly turn to one of surprise. "Your relationship and the manner in which you conduct business with my husband does not have any effect on how I run my business, Mr. Thorsby," she began, speaking in a matter-of-fact tone, "I take pride in my work and I know how much my suits are worth."
"But for a man with my standing, don't you think that..."
"You'll pay full price for the suit," she cut him off before he could even finish his statement.
Hearing her blatant demand made his jaw go slack. "And if your husband gets knowledge of the manner in which you're treating his associates?" he decided to try another direction.
"My husband pays full price as well," she quickly shut him down for the second time, not in the slightest bit fazed by his threats.
"Your own husband?" there was bewilderment in Mr. Thorsby's voice.
"He knows how much they're worth," (Y/N) doubled down, once again speaking in a matter-of-fact tone.
"I think you're making a rather grand mistake here, Mrs. Shelby," he tried one last time to try and turn the tides in his favor.
(Y/N) didn't waste a moment worrying about his threat. "I think I'll be just fine," she assured him, a tight-lipped smile forming on her face. She hoped that it added salt into the wound she'd inflicted upon his ego.
"You're not afraid of what'll come once word of this gets out?" he still continued trying. It was almost comical now. She sent him a look; a non-verbal way of asking him 'are we finished here?'. But he paid no attention to it, instead trying one last line that he used when he didn't get his way. "Do you not know how much power I hold?"
Ahh, the power card, (Y/N) thought to herself as she continued to try her hardest and hold back her scoff, where have I heard that one before?.
She was way passed finished with him and his droning on at this point. His pestering had brought her to the end of her professional rope. She was trying like hell to keep herself composed and not lose her cool. She wanted to keep taking the high road.
A few moments passed before she took a deep breath and finally responded: "I've dealt with the likes of you before, Mr. Thorsby. I've been given threats harsher in nature than the one you've just told me. My shop hasn't burned down yet. So I'm not worried about what your comments on the prices of my suits will do to my reputation." Her eyes never left his as she spoke, showing him that she meant every single word.
Another pause arose, and (Y/N) wondered if maybe she'd finally gotten through to him. Maybe he'll finally leave.
But, of course, he stayed standing in front of the counter. "Are you sure this is the path you want to take?" he gave one last try, his eyebrows raising as he tried to keep up his imposing figure. It was more then obvious that said figure wasn't working on (Y/N) though.
"Are you going to pay for the suit, Mr. Thorsby?" she asked him, no longer wanting to entertain his theatrics, her eyes still locked onto his. It became even more apparent as each second passed that she wasn't going to change her mind on this.
"You'll regret this, Mrs. Shelby," he finally conceded, but not without throwing one last threat out there.
"As will you, Mr. Thorsby. Have a nice day," she nodded, still unfazed by all of it as her dismissive goodbye made him turn and exit her shop. She stood stoic and watched as the door shut behind him. Only when she was finally alone did she shake her head and let out a huff. "Prick," she muttered to herself before she tore the ledger sheet out of the book and crumbled it up.
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"Do you remember Elliot Thorsby?" (Y/N) asked as she moved over to the mantlepiece in Tommy's office later that evening.
"Course I do," Tommy responded without up looking from the paper he was reading, "what about him?"
"He came for his fitting today," she started, grabbing one of the decanters and an empty glass so that she could pour herself a drink.
"And?" he asked for more information, finally looking up at her just as she spun to face him.
(Y/N) didn't answer right away, instead bringing the glass up to her lips and taking a healthy swig from it. She hissed at the burn that accompanied the whiskey as it slid down her throat and tried her best to smile at her husband. Tommy raised his eyebrows at her as he removed the glasses from the bridge of his nose, now waiting intently for her to share something with him.
(Y/N) brought the glass back up to her lips and held it there as she let the silence linger for a little bit longer. She didn't quite know why she was waiting so long...maybe she enjoyed watching him as he tried to hold his intent composure. "I don't think you should work with him anymore," she finally told him.
"Why not?" he immediately asked for more information.
"He felt that he should pay less for his suit because of his connection to you; felt that I should honor your relationship and then threatened me when I wouldn't adhere to his tactics," she happily told him about her interaction with the businessman.
"He threatened you?" Of course this was the part of her statement that Tommy fixated on.
"Well he tried to...the threats didn't really take," she shrugged, finishing the rest of her glass.
"What did he say to you?" he was still hung up on it.
"Tommy it was nothing," she brushed his worry off. His expression didn't change. (Y/N) let out a sigh before she began walking in his direction. "He told me that I'd lose my clients because he has influence," she told him as she stopped in front of where he was sitting. He looked up at her with raised eyebrows as he turned the chair in her direction. She took that as her signal to sit on his lap. He went back to staring straight ahead once she sat. It didn't take long for her to notice that he still wasn't completely convinced. "Tommy..." she trailed off, taking hold of his chin so that he'd be looking at her again, "what're you thinking?"
"I'm thinking that maybe I should go have a word with him."
"I told you it's fine. I handled it, and I'm not worried about what he's claiming he'll do," she assured him. A smile creeped onto (Y/N)'s features as she thought of something else to add. "Besides, it's not like he threatened me with arson...like this one client I had.”
Tommy couldn't stop the grin from forming as he immediately realized what she was hinting at. “Who’d threaten something like that, hmm?” he questioned, playing along with her.
“Someone who really wanted to try his luck,” she answered, letting go of his chin so that she could wrap her arms around his neck.
“I’d say the risk paid off,” he wagered, his hold on her tightening slightly so that he could pull her even closer.
“It seems like it did,” she agreed, leaning in and pressing her lips to his.
Their kiss was short, and he was soon parting from her to share the next move that he’d thought up. “Any business with Thorsby will be finished tomorrow.”
“Stop thinking about him and kiss me, Tommy,” she responded, her lips brushing against his as she spoke.
He chuckled at her abrupt statement and wasted no time in doing what she asked him to. His lips were back on hers within seconds, and Elliot Thorsby was the furthest thing from each of their minds.
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