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cinnamonest · 2 months

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I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

#.momcon #he's so scummy aaaaaaaa

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yanderes-galore · 5 months

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This is sort of a collab between me and @okchijt as we were discussing this on Discord while I was writing this. I'm in a watch party with them to watch Helluva Boss so... Here's some self indulgence about Blitzø :) Pacing is a bit everywhere due to our conversation process. Here's the pure brainrot!

Please Read Trigger Warnings For Mature Themes, The moment you click Read More you have consented to seeing this content.

Yandere! Blitzø Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Manipulation, Gaslighting/Blackmail, Trauma, Overprotective/Possessive behavior, Fear of attachment/vulnerability, Enabling behavior, Jealousy, Delusional behavior, Mentions of Death, Paranoia, Poor mental health, Swearing, Mature content, Secret picture taking, Violence/Murder, Forced date, Blood, Threats, Guilt-tripping, Mentions of intimacy/Sexual content but nothing too graphic, Intoxication, Forced/Dubious relationship.

Word Count: 1446 words.

Blitz is an obsessive stalker yandere who is fiercely protective/controlling of his obsession.

The moment you leave his sight, Blitz has a tendency to panic.

He needs to know where you are and only trusts a select few people with you.

Said people are Loona, Millie, and Moxxie.

This is most likely an AU after Stolas and Blitz "break up".

In that case, Blitz may not trust Stolas around you.

Speaking of Stolas, said Owl Prince may be jealous and condescending towards you due to Blitz trying to be with you.

I'm going to be honest, Blitz would be a mess as a yandere.

His whole life he's wanted that domestic sort of life with his obsession.

He craves connection, even if he originally tries to push you away.

But if you manage to stay despite what he says... then you have a clingy Imp on your hands.

He's known you for awhile, be that as one of his employees or a close friend who sticks around despite what he says.

The obsession probably starts in this concept with you comforting him about Stolas.

He's scared to let you in at first, not wanting to look vulnerable.

However, push hard enough and be there for him?

Well now he can't let you go.

Like... LITERALLY.

Blitz is surprisingly affectionate towards you once he's attached, both verbally and physically.

Blitz would want his obsession to get along with Loona, his adopted daughter.

Speaking of which, Loona may be a subtle manipulator or step in if you decide to neglect to turn on Blitz.

Especially if it benefits her.

Moxxie would be concerned for the relationship between you two.

He may try to speak up about it, but the others would shut him down.

Which would cause him to just... stay quiet despite your feelings.

Although, Millie would enable everything, thinking the bond you have is cute.

When Blitz turns obsessive, Moxxie may be your only ally.

Moxxie tries to ease your worries, he genuinely wants to find a way to help both you and Blitz.

However... Blitz would be so UPSET if he saw you so close to Moxxie.

He has a fear of losing you, while he knows Moxxie won't steal you from him... he hates you being close with others.

As a result, Blitz may isolate you socially... or insert himself into everything you do with others.

For example, if you were clubbing... he's coming to.

Anywhere you go, he'll be there... be it out of sight or right by your side.

He's so obsessive with the idea of a "healthy" relationship, he completely forgets the fact he is actively messing up the only somewhat normal relationship he has again... since you've been with him through nearly everything already, he's blind to his actions.

What doesn't help is no one but Moxxie points out the issues.

Definitely bans any sort of mention of Stolas in I.M.P.

He doesn't want you or anyone bringing up his past relationships as he wants to move on with his new beloved.

He genuinely thinks you're his perfect match and refuses to hear anyone else out on it.

Blitz is normally really clingy and hard to get rid of, so he usually doesn't need to resort to kidnapping.

However, if he did, he'd lock you in his apartment with max security.

Going back to Loona, she'd pity you a bit but not actually help you.

In fact, she's literally the guard dog for Blitz.

You won't be able to leave as Loona can hear every movement you make.

If you're caught, she'll tell Blitz, or convince you to go back to bed beside Blitz on the couch.

It would be hard to even leave the couch as Blitz practically digs his claws into you and clings to you as he sleeps.

If you worked with him, you'd slowly be unable to go on missions since the job is so dangerous.

In fact, Blitz may keep you with Loona, it's unknown who's babysitting who though.

He may not care much about his own safety, but he cares a lot about you.

He'd probably break if you died on him.

Speaking of which, Blitz has already lost a ton of people in his life anyways.

If you, the only person who genuinely gave a shit, died on him?

You can bet he just... never recovers.

Not even the others can fix him.

Which is why he is so insistent on hiding you away.

Blitz would hate it if you neglected him affection, clinging to you like you're his only lifeline.

If you eventually caved and gave him affection, even out of pity, he'd break down in your arms.

That way he thinks you love him back... and he just wants to be loved.

Blitz would stalk you constantly, taking pictures and recordings along with following you wherever you go.

Human, Hellborn, Sinner, whatever... he'd follow you everywhere no matter where you went.

Be that another layer of Hell, or the human world, he just needs to be near you.

Your status and species of demon/human would change the dynamic between you and Blitz in some ways too.

He may even baby you, he isn't trying to be condescending, but he just...finds babying you cute.

Blitz is extremely manipulative, he may even be the type of yandere to gaslight or blackmail you into staying with him.

He'd guilt you into staying with him by saying "you're the only one that bothered to help him".

If he was drunk, he'd start rambling about how you helped him... essentially starting to trauma dump on you.

If you tried to point out the issues in your relationship with him, he'd act like there's nothing wrong.

If you tried to leave him and guilting doesn't work, he's find dirt on you and blackmail you into staying beside him.

Blitz would force you onto little dates (Like horse riding).

He's thinking you two are having fun, in reality you probably aren't.

Honestly, would it even be a Blitz concept if I didn't mention violence or murder in some way?

If you got hurt on a mission, Blitz would lose it.

No one would need to help him, he'd single handedly slaughter everyone around him.

By the time the bloodbath is over, he's covered in the stuff and immediately pulling you close.

He'd coo over you, telling you there's no need to worry... he took care of it.

That would most likely be when he'd pull you off missions, too.

If he ever lost you somewhere, he's threatening everyone for answers on your whereabouts.

You're so isolated with him there's barely any issue when it comes to "rivals".

Although, if he somehow sees you secretly speaking with someone other than him... he'd threaten them and if that doesn't work, he may attack them like some sort of feral cat.

Blitz would not blame his darling for anything, he's that delusional.

He thinks you could do no wrong and just blames those around you.

Obviously others are the problem, not him.

That includes Moxxie, as I can see him thinking Moxxie is trying to turn you against Blitz.

Ever seen scenes with Blitz being affectionate with Loona or the others?

Yeah, he's like that with you, but more intense.

He's practically all over you when it comes to affection.

Blitz sees everyone as a threat to his relationship with you.

Maybe not Millie or Loona, but that may include Moxxie.

It definitely includes Stolas due to his paranoia, he fears the prince will take you from him.

Striker would also count due to his motives.

I don't usually mention this in my concepts, but Blitz is sexually active.

He wouldn't force you into anything, but he's certainly needy when it comes to that.

Blitz wouldn't blame you too much if you called him Blitzo.

He'd calmly correct you, but treat it as a mistake and warn you not to do it again.

Blitz wants to know everything about his darling, both inside and out.

He may not say much about himself, but he'd nearly interrogate you about everything you like and dislike.

He wants to give the best gifts and foods for you since he adores you.

If someone ever hurt you in your past, or even the present, he'd just get revenge for you.

He'll make their fate slow.

Anything from a childhood bully or abuser, yeah they're gone.

Overall, Blitz comes off as a rather feral, intense, and clingy yandere.

You're stuck with him, like it or not, all so he can chase the companionship he never truly had in a long time.

#yandere helluva boss #yandere blitz #yandere blitzo #yandere blitzø

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boldlyvoid · 1 year

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Sweet Nothing

Spencer Reid x Fem Reader

Summary: Penelope made a friend on the internet over covid who just so happens to live in the same town Dr. Reid just got a new job... and playing Cupid is her favourite thing in the world

Warnings: strangers to lovers, meet cute, 40-year-old virgin Spencer, Virgin reader (late 20's/early 30's), picnics, food mention, lots of Taylor Swift references, first times, Spencer is on anti-depressants, oral sex fem receiving, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, sweet sex, lots of communication

Word Count: 12.6

Making friends on the internet was never easy… it always came with its own set of unique difficulties. People lie, anyone could be secretly crazy and when actions don’t really have consequences on the web, they can get crazier.

That being said, Y/N has recently made a wonderful friend in a woman named Penelope.

Penelope’s Tumblr page was pretty normal, very pink and vibrant and happy, but normal nonetheless. She’s in her early 40s, an internet veteran, an ex-employee at the FBI and known for creating a brand new, very safe, social media platform for young people. She was very easy to trust, very forward and easy to open up to as well, which made the two of them bond instantly.

And despite the age difference and the long distance, Y/N would consider Penelope to be her best friend.

She knew everything about her from her favourite colour to her hope and dreams and favourite singer… and also the fact she was a virgin well into her adult life and dying to get out there. They’ve spent most of their friendship discussing their equally awful dating lives, would-be lovers and almost hookups. Both women have tried time and time again to find love, however, nothing ever seemed to work out… until the day Penelope got an idea.

“I have a friend…” Penelope leads, something sinister in her eyes. “And he’s single and pretty cute, too…”

“Do you have a crush?” Y/N lights up thinking this is a happy moment for Penelope. “Oh my god, Penny tell me all about him!!”

“Well, no, actually… I want to set you up with him,” she explains further, in a much softer tone. “He’s so soft and sweet and a few years younger than me… and still a virgin.”

Her eyes grow impossibly wide and her jaw drops momentarily, “you’re kidding?”

“Nope.”

“Wow,” she takes a moment to soak it all in. She sits back in her chair and lets her shoulders drop as she thinks about it. And for once, Penelope is quiet too. “How much older than me is he?”

“He’s 41… which I know it’s a lot older than you but he’s what you’re looking for and you’d be so perfect for him. He’s so wonderful and he’s waited for so long to find someone who wouldn’t judge him and I know you’d love everything about him if I told you everything but I want you to meet him and find out for yourself… sorry, that was a lot.”

“No, no, that’s okay,” she actually loved when Penelope went on little rants like that. “I just don’t really have the funds to fly to Virginia right now—

“That’s another reason why he’s perfect for you, he’s moving to Reno next week!!!” Penelope can’t help but shake her hands with excitement while her voice raises at least a pitch if not 3.

“Is this the same friend who’s already from Nevada?” Her eyes light right up like a cat staring at a laser… she’s seen photos on Penelope’s personal Facebook, everything from selfies in new glasses to the parties with friends and throwbacks from working at the FBI… “doctor what’s-his-name?”

“Spencer, yeah oh my god? I can’t believe you remember him?” Penelope asks and she just shrugs, “See, this is why you’re perfect for Spencer, he talks a lot like I do, only about much smarter things but you’d be able to keep up.”

“I’d love that, actually,” she swoons, feeling slightly embarrassed about how the possibility of having a boyfriend makes her so giddy. “I’d love to listen to someone talk about what they love and just sit there and look at them…”

“Perfect, I tell you! Perfect!!” Penelope exaggerates, “he’s moving in a few days but all his things are already there. The department paid for his relocation and everything, I’m so surprised he actually decided to go this time, he’s been thinking about it forever.”

“Ask him if he wants some help unpacking when he does get here and I’d love to give him a hand,” she agrees fully, taking a leap of faith and seeing where this could go without the fear of the unknown weighing her down.

—

She shows up at Spencer's apartment 2 days after he arrives in Reno, a bottle of Welcome to the Neighbourhood sparkling cider and an assortment of muffins in her arms, thinking it would be quick and easy for him to take the muffins to work over the next few days, unlike a flower arrangement he didn’t need taking up space in his downsized apartment.

She takes a deep breath before she knocks, her knuckles are barely off the door when he opens it. She barely has a moment to prepare before she’s smacked with the realization that this man is very handsome and incredibly smart… and so, so intimidating.

“Hi,” he smiles at her. “Is that— you didn’t need to bring anything?”

She looks down at the basket she’s holding and then back up to see those beautiful brown eyes, “I know… sorry, um, Hi, welcome to the neighbourhood,” she hands him the basket with the best smile she can muster, slightly embarrassed to be so flustered by the mere sight of him.

“Thank you, come in,” he steps out of the doorway so she could walk in, he steps away from the door completely and sets the basket on a moving box. “Sorry, it’s a mess, the movers just put the boxes wherever they wanted, so I’ve been reorganizing where they were supposed to go,” Spencer explains, gesturing to the room around them.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here,” she’s cheery as she shuts the door and starts to take her coat off. “Can I just leave this over here?”

“Yeah, actually—“ he reaches for the closet door, “I found the box with hangers first so you could hang your coat when you got here.”

“She said you were a genius,” Y/N teases, holding her coat up so he could slip the hanger inside and hang it on the bar. She sets her purse down inside the closet too, just for safekeeping.

“I hope she hasn’t talked me up too much,” he’s honest with his fears. “I’m afraid I’m actually quite average, maybe tilted towards the strange side…”

She gives him another smile, but ultimately shakes her head, “Don’t worry, she didn’t tell me anything really personal. I only really know about you from stories she’s told me about her old job, but nothing in detail… I was just starting to get to know her when you were hospitalized before the pandemic and she was by your side a bunch so she wasn’t online and I was actually worried something happened to her 'cause she’s never that quiet.”

“Oh, yeah, that was awful,” he agrees, pressing his lips together awkwardly while he thinks about it. But then he takes a deep breath and his shoulders drop. “So I was thinking we could start in the kitchen? I’ve found most of the boxes.”

“Yeah, lead the way,” she says, following him through the front room to the living room that was connected to the kitchen by means of an archway. “Oh wow,” she muses aloud, “this is going to be nice to decorate…”

“You think?” He looks a mix of worried and confused, “I have no idea what to do with the place.”

“I’m sure once we start taking out all your things we’ll figure something out,” she knows she can make a room out of anything, it's how she decorates her classroom each September. Just with sheer will and pure hope.

“I had to downsize a lot to come here, I donated most of my books so I wouldn’t cost the department a fortune moving them out, but I still have a lot,” he shares, both proud and a little embarrassed that 50% of his boxes are for books. “I don’t have many personal things or decorations… I honestly wasn’t in my last place enough to make it feel homey.”

“You’ll be here often, though, right?” She asks, selfishly, she can already see them becoming somewhat good friends and she wants to be able to see him regularly.

He nods, “Yeah, I’m going to be working with the sex crimes unit, 9 to 5 every day unless there’s a big case,” he explains. “Like human trafficking or a pedophile ring or something, but I doubt I’ll see an overwhelming number of those right now, it’ll be nice to downsize to just a city instead of dealing with the entirety of The United States.”

“I have 4 different groups of teenagers that I teach, which is like 120 kids alone, I can’t imagine being principal and having a thousand kids to watch out for,” she can relate it back. “I’m sure this will be less stressful for you… still awful sometimes but—

“But I’m good with stress,” he assures her. “Especially this kind of stress. You know, when I first started at the BAU I had a co worker who transferred over from sex crimes in New York, she actually had a great time cause she got to kick some creeps ass every now and then.”

“Oh that’s cool, I guess,” she tries not to be jealous, knowing he’s probably had lots of meaningful relationships with women throughout his life, but that’s not going to stop him from getting to know her.

She grabs a box that says mugs and lifts it to the edge of the counter island instead of dwelling on these bubbling feelings for who is essentially, a stranger. “Which cupboard did you want the mugs to go in?”

“Uh,” he gets nervous then. “I have about 3 boxes of mugs… so wherever they fit?”

“Sounds good,” she can’t help but smile, it was cute. “Do you like to collect them or something?”

“Kinda,” he reaches into his pocket and takes out an exacto-knife, handing it to her so she can open the cardboard box. She pushes the knife out of its plastic sheath and starts to cut along the tape seam.

The first mug she pulls out is a pink octopus, “oh, this is so cute?”

“That’s Mildred,” he can’t help but smile, “I got that from Penelope on her last day at work.”

“Oh,” she holds it to her chest in a sweet hug. “I can’t wait for her to come and visit, I just know she gives amazing hugs.”

“Actually, she hugged me before I left and said that I was supposed to pass it along to you at some point…” he looks at her softly, slightly terrified. “Which is strange 'cause she knows I don’t like touching and we’ve never met before but for some reason, she knew I’d still want to hug you upon meeting you…”

She can’t help but laugh, placing the mug down on the counter, “is that an invitation?”

He nods, opening his arms and allowing her to step into his space. She wraps her arms around his middle and holds him close, feeling his large hands on her shoulder and upper back, his thumb lightly caressing the fabric of her shirt.

She stays there in the hug for a moment and then pulls back, “I’ll be sure to tell her that you passed that along.”

“Good,” he’s smiling like an idiot, bright red and flustered, falling head over heels for her already.

At least, the little voice in her head thinks so. Making her smile back at him with the same giddy hopefulness that she’s longed for most of her life.

—

He feels like the most awkward person in the whole fucking world. Hiding away in the living room to unbox something alone and give himself a moment of anxiety without having to play it cool in front of her any longer.

She’s pretty, she’s nice, she smells like honey and happiness and new beginnings… Penelope raved about her for days when she heard he was moving to Reno and now he can see why.

Y/N is amazing… it’s almost too good to be true.

She’s in his kitchen humming while she unpacks box after box of his dishes, moving around his new space like she was always meant to be here too. Like she’s a ghost or an extra piece of the pre-furnished listing. Like it was hers first.

He can’t quite place what song it is that she’s humming, but it’s nice. He wanders over to the archway and leans against it, watching her in admiration as she slides some more mugs to the back of a shelf. He knows he wants to ask her out for real. Not just as friends, not just for help or convenience but because his aura is drawn to hers and the colour they could make together has never been made before.

When she turns around to grab another mug she’s startled by his presence in the doorway, “gosh,” she gasps and places her hand on her chest to get over the initial shock. “What the heck, Spencer?”

“Sorry, it’s just…” he licks his lips and thinks it over before saying it, “It’s so nice to have you here… it feels right.”

“Oh,” she softens, he can see a weight lift off her shoulders and her eyes glimmer under the lights. “Thank you, thats the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me?”

“Would you want to go on a real date, tomorrow?” He can’t help but ask. “I know Penelope was hoping for us to date and I hate that she’s always right but, I would really like to go on a date with you.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” she makes her way around the counter and over to be closer to him. “I’d love that, what do you want to do?”

“Um,” he really didn’t think that far ahead… “can I surprise you?”

“Sure,” she gives him the sweetest, most hopeful smile that makes his heart swell.

“Is there anything you don’t like? Or are allergic to? Anything I should avoid?” He can’t help but ask. The last thing he wants is to surprise her with something that makes her distance herself from him. It’s happened too many times before.

She shakes her head, “not that I can think of?”

“Okay,” he smiles at her, stepping into her space more. “I found my Alexa that Penelope got me years ago, did you want me to put on that song you were humming?”

She looks like a dear in the headlights, she clearly forgot he could hear her when she was humming. “Oh, um… no? I don't think you’d like the song.”

“It sounded nice when you were humming?”

“It’s embarrassing…”

“What is it?”

She sighs and gives in, “Taylor Swift has this song that I listen to when I dream about the life I want and it’s been stuck in my head all day cause I’m in your kitchen… and the lyric is outside they’re pushing and shoving but you’re in the kitchen humming, all that you ever wanted from me was Sweet Nothing…”

“That’s not embarrassing,” his heart swells. “Penelope is a matchmaker, has she ever told you about all the couples she created at the FBI? She’s responsible for 5 marriages and by proxy about 10 babies.”

“Wow,” Y/N’s a bit taken aback by that. “So you’re saying she’s like Cupid?”

He nods, “Or she’s able to see fate's design a lot better than us.”

“One hug? That’s all it took?” She teases him.

“A few mugs?” He teases right back.

“Hey, you can tell a lot about a person by what they hoard,” she bites back, trying not to smile too hard.

He just shakes his head and backs up, headed back to the living room with her in tow. “Hey Alexa, what’s the Taylor Swift song that says you’re in the kitchen humming.”

“That would be Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Midnights By Taylor Swift, released October—“ the British man's voice comes booming from the small speaker only to be cut off.

“Hey Alexa play Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift,” he orders with a smirk plastered to his face.

“Okay, here’s Sweet Nothing by Taylor Swift on Amazon Music.”

Within the first few notes, he knows this is going to be their song. He extends his hand to her, silently asking her to dance even though he doesn’t really know how… and by design or some exquisite happenstance, she takes it.

With one hand in hers, his other hand lands on her hip while her extra hand is placed ever so gently on his shoulder. Chest to chest, eye to eye, they smile and sway along to the flow of the tune. Her hand squeezes around his own slightly tighter, the tune matches exactly how she was humming in his own kitchen and then he hears the lyric she mentioned.

They said the end is coming,

Everyone's up to something,

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings.

Outside, they're push and shoving,

You're in the kitchen humming,

All that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

He spins her around making her laugh as she crashes back into his chest and holds him tighter. She wraps her arm around his middle and rests her chin on his shoulder. The music is loud, but his thoughts are louder. He wants everything this song mentions but with her. Only her. And it’s been only an hour and a bit that he’s known her. He doesn’t even really know her but he craves to.

“Do you write poems?” He asks after the song mentions them.

She shakes her head, “no, but I know you read a lot of them… do you write them too?”

He nods, “Sometimes… maybe I’ll make you one.”

“I’ll probably cry,” she admits.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors

And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other

And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more"

To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

She is soft-hearted. She’s sweet and kind and wonderful, too. She tilts her head to the side to rest against his own. Now cheek to cheek, he lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding. She hums along to the song, just soft enough for him to hear, not quite on key, but it’s endearing.

They’re quiet for the rest of the song and keep swaying, knowing it’s going to end soon and they’re going to have to pull away. They don’t want to… luckily the song is on a loop. It starts right back up and so they don’t pull away.

—

His place is still a mess when he gets ready to leave the next morning. After their dance, she knew she wouldn’t be able to focus on unpacking and he knew he’d be too tempted to hold her all night long… so she went home. He helped her into her coat, he hugged her goodbye and she left, taking a piece of his heart with her.

He’s not as used to Reno as he was with DC, but one look at the map and he was able to find the grocery store quite easily. He walks there because he opted not to bring his shitty car with him. He sold it with the promise of looking for a new one here in Nevada, but it was actually a lot nicer to walk in a sunny place like this. And on days when it’s not as nice, taxis exist for a reason. He really didn’t need a car, anymore.

He didn’t realize how much he missed Nevada until now.

He spent a lot of last night thinking about what he wanted to do for their date and came up with the splendid idea of a picnic. The first thing he did was call Penelope, it wasn’t too late for her back in DC, so he didn’t feel too bad, but he had to ask her some questions. He wanted everything to be perfect. She talked his ear off and then gave him an extensive list of the things she knows Y/N likes from past conversations, it turns out they’ve spent a bit of time talking about snack foods and it was finally coming in handy.

He comes back to his newly unpacked kitchen with bags of groceries, he prepares sandwiches on croissants and cuts up cheese and puts them on toothpicks with fancy slivers of meat… and he bought some new Tupperware so the meats and cheese can be in one and the fruit he bought can be in another. He bought her favourite drinks and some cute disposable cups to put them in because he didn’t have anything other than coffee mugs, which he was sure she wouldn’t mind, but he did.

He wanted this to be perfect for her.

All while he was packing their picnic basket, he listened to Taylor’s music, thanks to Penelope he had a playlist of her favourites to get himself caught up on them and ended up liking most of them himself. Especially one called Maroon. The lyrics are so powerfully written and wondrously sung, it’s as if a heart-stopping novel was put to music and all told within 3 minutes and 38 seconds. Taylor Swift is a genius, that much her lover got right in sweet nothing. What a mind, indeed.

Just a little past her apartment, there is a little park with a lovely field of flowers beside it. It’s a perfect spot for a picnic, so once he’s finished packing their picnic, he sets off on a walk to her apartment, thinking a walk to the park together would only add to the ambiance of the day.

He makes it to her place a little before 11, like he told her he would, and spends a few seconds in the hallway to catch his breath and fix his hair before he knocks. And when he does knock, it’s 3 times and he hits the wood pretty hard with his knuckles. Inside, it’s pretty quiet and then he hears her call out, “Just a sec!!”

He waits patiently for a minute or two and then she wipes the door open while putting in an earring, “Sorry, I didn’t realize what time it was.”

She’s breathtaking. She’s all dolled up and it’s all for him. He can’t believe it.

“That’s okay,” he manages to breathe out, leaving his mouth hung open as he stares.

She just smirks and reaches out for him, touching his chin and redirecting his jaw closed. “You don’t want to catch flies…”

He blushes, uncontrollably, and bows his head, bashful as ever. “Sorry, you just look beautiful… I’m not used to someone getting all dolled up for me.”

She lets out a huff of breath through her nose, settling all her nerves, her shoulders drop and she stares at him like he’s the only man in the whole world. “You’re so sweet, I almost can’t believe you’re real.”

“That feeling is mutual,” he assures her.

She finally looks down at his hands to see him holding a picnic basket. “Oh my god, are we going to have a picnic?” She lights right up.

He nods, “is that okay?”

“Okay? It’s perfect, Spencer!” She’s so excited and it’s real. She’s not playing it up or anything. She’s genuinely over the moon. “Let me just put on my shoes and grab my purse, you can wait in here.”

“Okay,” he steps inside and closes the door behind himself as she runs off into he bedroom.

It’s a small apartment. Her bedroom and bathroom are separate rooms, but the kitchen, living room and the washer and dryer are all exposed. She has it set up really nicely, it’s warm and inviting and happy and he could see himself making a home on her couch in the upcoming weeks of getting to know her. He couldn’t wait to learn about her favourite shows and movies and books. He wanted to hear all about her family and friends and co-workers, even her favourite students and the ones who irked her. He wanted to hear about it all. He wants to know her favourite colour and how she likes her pizza and her pasta and what her favourite baked good is. There’s an endless amount of personal things that he can learn, and he wants to know it all. He wants to love it all, too.

When she returns, she has her shoes on, her purse over her shoulder and a blanket draped over her forearm. “I don’t want to sit on the grass, and I didn’t think you fit a blanket in there…”

“Oh, shoot,” he looks down at the basket and realizes that was the one thing he forgot. “Yeah, we’re going to need that.”

“Thought so,” she smirks. She walks back over to the door and grabs her keys, “anything else you need?”

“Just you,” he replies without thinking it over.

“Stop being so sweet,” she nudges him, staring up at him like he hung the stars, himself.

“Or else?” He teases. It’s remarkable how easy it is with her. It just flows out of him like the script was already written between them.

She steps even closer into his space, “you get a kiss for every compliment,” she says, standing on her tip-toes, she presses her lips to his cheek for 1, 2, 3 seconds of pure bliss.

She drops back down to her normal height, a smirk plastered to her face, proud of the lipstick stain that’s almost as red as his blushing cheek. She reaches up to wipe it off but he pulls back, “don’t…” he’s adamant. “I want everyone to know you’re mine if you’re going out looking this beautiful beside me.”

“Okay then.”

—

Like a real man, Spencer insists on standing closer to the road as they walk along the sidewalk. A few moments into their walk, he transitions the basket to his right side so that his hand that’s closest to her is free and she notices it right away. She has draped the blanket over her left arm, leaving her right hand free… all but begging him to take it. But he’s shy and quiet and he doesn’t know how to just do it.

So she does.

She takes his hand in hers and interlocks their fingers, smiling up at him as they keep going forward, “have you ever been to this park?”

He shakes his head, “No… is it nice? The reviews online said it’s clean and there isn’t a lot of illegal activity there.”

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, it’s a nice park. Sometimes I hit up the bookstore down here and then I go read in the park. It’s nice in the summer when I have a week off between my regular job at the school and my summer job.”

“Summer job?”

She nods, “Mhm, you know, 'cause I only work at the high school when school is in session and I don’t make enough to take two whole months off so each summer I take a new job. Like last summer I worked at a daycare but the summer before that I was at a ladies' clothing store a few streets over.”

“What are you going to do this summer?” He asks, intrigued.

“I’m not sure yet… I’m still friends with some of the girls at the daycare so I might go back, but honestly, I’m also thinking of putting in my application for summer school and I might tutor some of the kids that need help graduating,” she explains. “Cause I know how hard it is to try your best and still just not get it. They shouldn’t be punished for having a hard time.”

“You sound like a wonderful teacher, I’m sure they’d really like to have you in the summer, too,” Spencer compliments. “I was always closest to the kids that didn’t do very well in school. It’s not that I pitted them or felt like I could improve them, I just liked who they were as people, more.”

“They’re lovely kids, they just get pushed to the side because they either learn differently or they can’t do the work at home for whatever reason. And they shouldn’t be punished for that, it’s not their fault that most kids nowadays have to work to help their families or become a second parent to help their younger siblings. They barely have the time to take care of themselves let alone do 5 hours of homework a night,” she rants, “I genuinely hate how the school system is currently.”

“My nephew is in high school currently and he isn’t having the best time,” Spencer shares. “He calls me for help on his math homework sometimes and it always floors me that even if he got to the right answer, if he didn’t follow the exact formula that the teacher uses then he gets a 0. There are many different ways to solve an equation, and as long as he shows his work it should count.”

“Exactly!” She raises her voice a little and startles a lady passing them. “It’s frustrating to watch them struggle with shit they’ll never use again unless they’re going into a math-dominated field. It’s not fair.”

“More kids need a teacher like you,” Spencer says, giving her hand a little squeeze.

“Why, thank you,” she gleams. “If we weren’t in the middle of the walkway I’d kiss you again…”

“The books store is just up here, you can kiss me in the aisles… if you really want to?” he kids, but not really. She can tell he wants another kiss from her.

So she drags him into the bookstore, they tell the worker that they’re just looking and perusing the store, calling out the titles they know and rating the backs of the ones that seem interesting until they’re in the back aisle. She turns to him with a smirk, “Are you gonna make me stand on my tip-toes every time, bean sprout?”

He smirks and places the picnic basket down on the floor so his hands are free, “I could just kiss you, instead, you know?”

“You wouldn’t be so bold?” She tempts, secretly hoping he will.

He tentatively reaches out, placing his beautifully soft hand on her cheek and caressing her skin with his thumb before he starts to lean in. She closes her eyes in anticipation, just mere seconds before their lips touch and like the big bang, universes were created in the pitch-black darkness behind her eyelids. Colours she’s never seen before, feelings she’s only read on pages that surround them, and a warmth in her chest that seems so foreign… yet so right.

He goes to pull away and she leans back in, dropping the blanket in the process to kiss him again and again until his tongue slips past her lips and it's more than just a kiss. It’s the start of something beautiful. Something more than Penelope ever thought possible when her two friends ended up in the same town at the same time.

They’re brought out of the moment by the sound of a woman clearing her throat, “You actually have to buy something you can’t just make out back here.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

“I’m so sorry!”

The two of them rush out with equally guilty mugs. She grabs the first book she see’s, “We’ll take this.”

“I’ll meet you at the register,” the keeper replies rather snidely and over it as she walks away.

Looking down at the book, it’s a poetry book by an author she’s never heard of before. “You know this one?”

Spencer shakes his head, “surprisingly, no.”

She picks up the blanket again, he grabs the basket and the two of them slowly make their way towards the cash. “Sorry, again,” Y/N says, pressing her lips together awkwardly. “I don’t know where that came from, we really just wanted a book for our picnic.”

“I’ve been in love before, I get it,” she waves it off with a growing smile. “This is a good choice… it’s only 6 dollars as well.”

“I’ve got it,” Spencer steps forward, taking his wallet out of his pocket and handing the woman two 5 dollar bills. “Do you take tips or donations?”

“Always, it keeps the lights on,” she’s happy to take the extra money, exchanging one of the 5’s for 4 1’s and placing them in a jar behind the desk. “Thank you, I hope to see you back here sometime.”

“Definitely, I’d love to have a real look next time,” Spencer teases as Y/N takes the book. He places his hand on her back, “thank you.”

“Have a good rest of your day,” she adds for good measure, following Spencer towards the door.

“You too! And enjoy your picnic!” The lady calls back just before they leave.

“God,” Y/N scolds herself, “I can’t believe that happened.”

“Spencer just laughs, “It’s not that embarrassing… believe me, I’ve walked in on much worse.”

“I can imagine, I mean, Penelope told me about some of your cases,” she says with the roll of her eyes. “I really don’t know how you did it for so long.”

“Honestly, me either,” he agrees with her there. “How much do you know about me? Because she never told me much about you and I’m worried we’re not on even playing grounds…”

“Oh, not much!” She tries to sound as believable as possible. “She basically told me you’re a genius, she loves you like a little brother and some little anecdotes like you were shot in the knee once and were on crutches for months and you wear a lot of purple which I’ve also seen in the Facebook photos she has of you… but nothing super personal.”

“Okay, that’s good then… cause she’s seen me at my worst,” Spencer admits as they make their way toward the park entrance

“She was basically big brother to you guys,” Y/N teases.

Spencer manages to laugh, “Yeah, she was.”

The gates to the park are open, there are children running about cheering with one another while their parents sit on the benches and talk, barely watching on. They pass everyone and head right back to the grassy area behind the playground, past the soccer fields and take cover under a baby Willow tree that still has lots of growing left to do, however, she’s still big enough to cast a good amount of shade on them.

She lays out the blanket perfectly and takes a seat while Spencer gets down on his knees, placing the picnic basket in front of himself. All while they’re still talking about Penelope. He takes out two plastic champagne flutes and hands them to her first, then he sets out the bubbly drink he got, followed by 4 Tupperware containers. “Speaking of which, I called her last night and she told me about your favourite snacks…”

“No way?” She can’t believe it.

He simply nods, a smirk growing, “It would seem you two love food.”

“Well, it’s always late when we call so she’s seen a lot of my nightly snacks,” She admits. “Is that? No way…” She takes one of the containers and opens it up to find little croissant sandwiches. “You want me to fall in love with you? Don’t you?”

He’s startled to hear it and she can’t believe she said it. It was forward and real and incredibly honest. But Spencer nods. Of course, he nods. “Yeah, I do.”

She looks at him like that 'I do' was the big one. The most important one. And to her, it’s almost more important. “Really?”

“I’ve spent most of my life completely alone, I’m tired… and I’m not settling, not at all, no,” he stutters out and worries he’s offended her. “I just mean, I like you, you’re wonderful already and everything I look for in a person and if you loved me I’d be the luckiest man in the world.”

“Wow,” she can’t believe it.

“Sorry—

“No, no,” she reaches out, dropping the container so she could touch his knee instead, “don’t, I’m just shocked, really…”

“Really?”

She nods, “Yeah, not many people have just openly told me that they like me let alone want me to love them?”

“Me either,” Spencer admits. He’s ready to lay his whole heart bare to her. “I really want someone to love me and if that someone was you then I could die happy.”

“Not on my watch,” she manages to smile. “My love means taking care of you. My love includes worrying and obsessing and making you entirely mine… it’s driven people away before we could even start anything real, I don’t want that to happen here.”

“It won’t,” Spencer is quick to reply. “It can’t drive me away, it’s exactly what I want… and I want to love you just the same.”

“You won’t have to try hard,” she teases, smiling up at him. “Come on, get comfortable, grab a sandwich and talk to me. Tell me about yourself and watch it happen.”

“Okay,” he follows her instructions.

He gets comfortable on the blanket, taking off his shoes so he can sit crisscross applesauce and he pours them each a glass of sparkling cider. “I’m sober,” he shares first. “I had some drug problems in my 20’s and I find if I avoid all substances, except coffee, then I won’t slip.”

“Wise man,” she compliments. “I don’t drink either, mostly cause drinking alone is sad and I don’t like how it makes me feel.”

“And I picked this pinky one cause of the line in Paris…” Spencer admits which makes her peak right up. “You know, fake wine makes believe it’s champagne…”

“Oh my god, you listened to Midnights?”

He nods, “I went back to listen to Sweet Nothing and thought why not?”

She can’t help but shake her head and smile, “That’s so cute, you have no idea how cool this is for me. No one I know really likes her, everyone acts too cool for Taylor Swift and then you come in and listen to her on your own accord? That’s— that’s everything to me, Spencer.”

“I think she’s amazing, well, so far, at least,” he admits. “I’ve only listened to the one album but it was a great album, I particularly enjoyed Maroon.”

“Her track 2’s are always my favourite,” Y/N raves. “She saves track 5 for her personal favourites or songs that mean the most to her, like on Red there’s this one called All Too Well and it’s originally 5 minutes but on the new recording of Red it’s 10 minutes and it’s so good. It’s insanely beautiful.”

“I can’t wait to listen to it,” he can’t help but smile. “I love listening to you talk about her, you glow.”

“Here,” she pulls out her phone and headphones from her purse and plugs them in. “We can listen to it now if you want?”

“Okay,” he agrees, taking an earbud and placing it in his ear while she moves closer to share the other.

And for 10 minutes they sit there in silence, she eats her sandwich and he listens to the words with the most admiration. The hurt is palpable, the passion is gut-wrenching… he loves it and she can tell from the look on his face. He’s so focused and enthralled. She feels a warmth in her chest that she hasn’t felt before, something in this moment is what makes her really love him. She isn’t just infatuated, he isn’t just cute and nice… he’s special.

“That was amazing—

“I never want to feel like that,” she whispers, staring at him intently. “don’t break my heart, please.”

“I don’t plan to?”

She lets out a deep breath she didn’t mean to hold, “I’ve never dated anyone before because I can’t go through the heartache. She made it seem so fucking awful I never want to feel it.”

“It’s awful,” he admits, all the hurt he’s experienced comes forth, pooling behind his eyes as tears form. “I was in love only once. She died before I could tell her.”

“Oh, Spencer, I’m so sorry,” she can’t believe it. “When?”

“In 2013.”

“Have you been single for 10 years?”

He nods, “Basically. I tried to date before the pandemic but she wasn’t really my type, it was more convenient so it didn’t last.”

“Oh.”

“This isn’t like that,” he assures. “You’re kind and beautiful and you have a normal job and you make people's lives better… you’ve made Penelope’s life better. You are sunshine—

“Do not call yourself midnight rain I will laugh,” she cuts him off, biting back a smirk.”

“I wasn’t,” he laughs too, “but it works here, too.”

“I’m not always sunny,” she adds, making sure he knows that.

“That’s okay,” he’s fine with it, really. “Even on gloomy days, the sun is just behind the clouds.”

She can’t believe he just said that. It’s so beautiful and kind and about her? It makes her just stare at him, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out. She doesn’t know what to say. “Oh, man… I’m going to fall in love with you so quickly.”

“Me too,” Spencer smiles, reaching out to hold her hand. He grips it tight and doesn’t break eye contact with her, “and I’m excited about it.”

—

He only lives around the corner from her which means they see each other every day for the next week. They wake up at the same time, they get coffee before work, she drops him off at the police station and then she heads to the high school. After school, she goes and picks up something for dinner and he Ubers right to her apartment to eat. They talk well into the night, they listen to music, they watch documentaries and movies and they cuddle… she knows almost everything about him and he knows almost everything about her. He’s going to meet her family in the summer, hopefully, and she’s going to meet Diana in a few weeks.

Being together is the most fun she’s ever had in her entire life.

And while they’re not going on dates to get to know each other, they are dating and Penelope is happy about it for the most part. She’s just upset she lost her nightly chats with Y/N on Zoom. They barely even text now.

When Penny finally does get Y/N on the phone, however, it’s on a night that Spencer has an intense case in Reno. The BAU are back in town… 3 women have died this week, all online sex workers, they never walked the streets and yet that’s where they’ve ended up. It’s heartbreaking.

“I called him today during his break and he just sounded so defeated, it breaks my heart,” Y/N says with her hand over her chest and pleading eyes, “it’s too bad you’re not working with them again.”

“Their new tech guy is good,” Penelope assures her, “and he’s got JJ and Luke with him so he’s fine… he’s more than fine, he’s Spencer.”

She rolls her eyes playfully, “he is fine…”

“You guys really like each other?” Penelope digs, she wasn’t going to pry and press too many questions but she can’t help herself.

Y/N nods, “Yeah… I think I love him.”

“Really?” Penelope lights right up, “Oh my god?”

“I know! It’s been so nice, we were going to go on another date tonight but, you know, duty calls…”

“How many have you had so far?”

“Uh,” Y/N doesn’t really know. “Well, we unpacked boxes last Saturday and then on Sunday we went to the park and I’ve seen him every day this week…”

“I know,” Penelope pretends to be mad about it but she can’t stay fake mad for long. She loves them both too much. “I’ve missed you.”

“I miss you too, I just like cuddles with my boyfriend more…”

“Boyfriend?”

She nods, “Yeah, I think that’s what we are, I mean, we’ve already talked about what we want and he said he wants to fall in love with me so I think that makes us boyfriend and girlfriend?”

“Spencer said that? Shy, nervous, Spencer Reid?” Penelope can’t believe it.

She can’t help but laugh, “Yeah, I guess that’s him… I don’t know, he’s a lot less shy with me.”

“Have you—

“No, no, not yet,” she waves her hands in front of the screen and looks panicked. “No. We haven’t even talked about it yet.”

“No?”

She shakes her head, “No… I mean, I want to and we’ve had some nice make-out sessions but we haven’t done anything more than kiss.”

“Wow,” Penelope is genuinely shocked. “I thought you would’ve jumped him by now.”

“Hey,” she says with a cheeky smile. “I have self-control… so does he, I guess cause he hasn’t even tried to cop a feel or anything, he’s super reserved.”

“Well yeah he’s spent 40 years being a virgin,” Penelope says without any malice, she’s just stating a fact. “He’s used to things not going there. I think you have to make the move.”

“I was thinking that too,” she doesn’t sound excited about it. “I’m just really scared even though I know I shouldn’t be when it’s Spencer. He’s going to be very sweet and he’s already told me he thinks I’m beautiful and I feel it around him… it’s just so nerve-wracking.”

“I was still a teenager when I had sex the first time and it was so scary, I wish I waited,” she really emphasizes Wish. “I wish I was mature and chose someone good and deserving and I wish he cared about me. But you have all those things right now, it’ll be worth it now.”

“I know,” she tries her hardest to believe her. “I know it’ll be okay… it’s just the anticipation feels more like anxiety.”

“Which is totally normal, but it’ll go away when it happens, believe me.”

“I do.”

—

Spencer's cause goes on another 4 days. She brings him coffee and donuts after work, she meets his friends and ex-collogues and she understands now why he had to get out of it all. Emily is just a few years older than him and fully grey, JJ sneaks out to make phone calls to her family who she doesn’t see as often as she wants and Luke is still single no matter how hard he tries. The job takes things from them.

She gives him a hug before she leaves each time, never a kiss, that would embarrass him in front of his new co-workers and his old ones would never let him live it down. So he gets just a hug. It’s long, they linger and then she goes home.

It’s weird being home without him now that he’s been there often. She misses him dearly, every day. All through the weekend, he works. And then the case ends on a Tuesday at 3 in the morning and stays up just for her. He buys them coffee, he walks to her place and he knocks on her door right at 6:30, 15 minutes after he knows her alarm has gone off.

She opens the door dazed and confused. “What are you doing here?”

“I missed my best friend.”

“Get in here,” she tugs him inside and makes him put the coffees down so she could have a proper welcome.

She cups his face in her hands and kisses him with so much force and passion, it startles him. But he kisses her back. He wraps her up in a big hug, bringing her in closer, he deepens the kiss with the swipe of his tongue and she pushes him back against her door. It’s as fiery as the first time, it’s better than the kiss in the bookstore, there’s so much more feeling in it now.

His hand roams up the flat of her back, over her shoulders and rests on the nape of her neck. His thumb caresses the skin under her ear, causing her to moan into the kiss and pull away, embarrassed. Her eyes go wide and she stutters on her way to find an excuse but Spencer just smiles, still caressing her, he brings his other hand up to cup her cheek, “It’s okay… you’re so cute.”

Her cheeks heat up and she feels bashful as all hell. “Shut up,” is all she can manage to say. “I’m still half asleep, I mean, you should be lucky I already brushed my teeth before you surprised me.”

“Mm,” Spencer hums, running his tongue over his teeth, “that’s why you’re so minty.”

She just pulls away and reaches for her coffee, “And now I can’t drink this until the minty-ness goes away, so thank you.”

“Should I go awa—

“No,” she rushes out. “No, you can stay. I can drive you home on my way to work.”

“Okay,” he can’t help but giggle a bit as he makes his way closer to her, reaching out for her waist. “You like me…”

“Shush!” She swats him away, “I have to get ready, don’t tempt me.”

“Just one more kiss? Come on, isn’t it the deal that I compliment you and you kiss me?” He begs. “You’re so beautiful and smart and lovely—

She steps closer to him and presses her lips right to his only to pull back just as fast. He cups her face in his hands and stops her from moving away too fast and peppers kisses to her lips. “Spence— Spencer!” She giggles while trying to pull away, “Seriously, I have to go to work!!”

“Fine,” Spencer sighs as he lets her go, only to pull her back in for one last kiss. “Okay, now you can go.”

She just laughs as she pulls away and heads back to her room, “Come on, you can sit in my room while I get ready.”

“Really?” He follows even though he doesn’t believe her.

“Why not?” She doesn’t see why it’s a big deal, “I’m just doing my makeup and then I have to pick an outfit and I’ll change in the bathroom?”

“Okay, yeah, sorry I just thought you meant you’d change in front of me and I didn’t think we were there yet?”

“Oh, no,” she agrees. Taking a seat at her little makeup desk, she turns to him. “When do you think we should be ready for something like that?”

“When do you want to?” He questions her right back.

She shrugs, “I don’t know… this Saturday is 2 weeks of us being together so, I mean, most couples start moving further around then?”

“We’re not most couples,” he reminds her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Spencer hesitates, he looks a little nervous but he sits on the end of her bed anyway. “I’ve never had sex before… I’ve wanted to, I’ve tried.”

“I’ve never even tried,” she’s incredibly honest. “Making out is as far as I’ve gone with anyone.”

“Really?” He almost can’t believe it. “Why?”

She shrugs, “I’m over-emotional and incredibly soft. I can’t do one-night stands and I’ve never trusted anyone enough to experiment before.”

“Oh,” Spencer softens, “you feel safe with me?”

She nods, “Extremely.”

He gets up and wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against the top of her head. She snuggles into him and holds onto one of his forearms, they both sigh. Completely content with one another.

—

They agreed to try and go further on Friday night. They both have weekends off, so they could spend the whole weekend together if they wanted to.

And when Friday comes, she isn’t nervous. It’s just a Friday.

She placed an order for Chinese food when she got home from work and texted Spencer right after so he could get it on his way over. It was closer to his place and convenient this way and he just liked to get it for them. And while he’s on his way, she takes the time to bring out some comfy blankets to put on the couch for their cuddles later and she lights some candles and turns on her fairy lights. Her whole living room is set in a soft, romantic mood with the hopes that they could do more than just cuddle tonight…

Spencer knocks 3 times to let her know it’s him and then he walks in, “Hey, so they ran out of spring rolls but they gave us egg rolls instead, is that cool?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she doesn’t care, rushing over to the door she takes the bags from him and puts them on the table by the door instead.

He slips out of his shoes and puts them beside hers, then he takes his bag off and places it beside his shoes, next he takes off his coat and hangs it up. He even locks her front door for her, these are all things he’s used to doing after 2 weeks of visiting. She clears her throat when he takes too long to turn back to her, “excuse me, I’m waiting,” she teases.

“Sorry,” he steps closer to her and places his hand on her cheek as he leans in for his welcome home kiss. It’s a new tradition that she loves so much and clearly he does too as she can feel him smile through the kiss. He kisses her once, twice and a 3rd time just because he can, “there, happy?”

She shakes her head and cups both his cheeks, pulling him in for a longer, more passionate kiss. His hands go to her waist, holding her closer to his body, he wraps her up in a hug as well. She pulls back with an audible “mwah,” and a smile on her own face. “Now I’m happy.”

“You’re so cute,” he compliments. “I missed you so much today.”

“I missed you, handsome,” she compliments right back. “Um, I missed you so much I was wondering if maybe you’d want to stay over tonight?”

“Oh?” He’s only slightly surprised, “yeah, I’d like that… I just need to check my bag, hold on.”

“Okay?” She’s a little confused about why he has to, but she doesn’t ask any questions. She just watches him open up his satchel and search the pockets.

“Oh, good,” he says with relief in his voice as he pulls out a bottle of pills and his toothbrush. “I haven’t told you yet, but I’m on antidepressants… I take them every night before bed.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,” she says without a second thought. “Do they help?”

He nods, putting them back in his bag until later, “Yeah, I like them.”

“Good, now, come on,” she grabs the bag of food and makes her way over to the kitchen so she can start dishing everything out. “Did you check that they had everything?”

“You bet, after they forgot the red sauce last time I’m never not checking the bag again,” he says as he follows her.

They spend a few minutes in the kitchen as they fill their plates with a variety of food. Spencer opts for a fork while she uses the chopsticks provided in the bag and then they move back to the living room. They put their plates on the coffee table and sit down criss-cross apple sauce together on the floor in front of the couch. The remote is on Spencer's side of the table, and the TV is on and ready for them to pick a show, but instead, Spencer asks how her day went.

“Oh, it was okay with my juniors we worked on SAT prep and then with my 3 freshman classes we worked on their independent study unit and I’m now considered the cool teacher cause I let them listen to their music while they read,” she shares with a smile. “And then for my spare I filled in for Miss Tyndall, the arts teacher, so we watched a David Bowie doc while they all worked on different projects.”

“Sounds like a fun day,” Spencer loves to listen to her talk about it all. “You’d be my favourite teacher too.”

“I know,” she can’t help but smile. “How was your day?”

He shrugs, taking a forkful of fried rice, he covers his mouth with his hand while he talks, “It was okay, no one died so that’s a bonus.”

For the rest of their meal, they share little stories, about their day and things they heard on the news or on TikTok, funny anecdotes and memories from their separate pasts. It’s nice. She could listen to him all day and he felt the same. When their plates are empty, they both lean back against the couch and Spencer turns to stare at her with so much love in his eyes.

“I’m really enjoying my nights with you,” he shares, and in the silence, she feels it. But he says it anyway, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” she says and a feeling of relief flows out of her in the form of a sigh. Her shoulders drop, and she looks over at him with a sweet smile, silent as they take in the moment. “I love you so much.”

He places his hand on top of hers, both of them are in too much of a food coma to move closer or kiss or anything. They just hold hands and stare at each other.

“I get it now,” she whispers. “I understand what she’s been singing about all these years… this feeling right here. It’s worth the heartbreak, I think.”

“I can’t tell the future, but I know I never want to leave you,” Spencer replies, voice equally as soft. “I want everything with you.”

Her heart starts to beat out of her chest but she knows she has to ask it. “Would you be my first?”

“Only if you’d be mine?”

She nods, tears bubbling behind her eyes, and she squeezes his hand. “I’d love nothing more… but I’m in a food coma right now.”

Spencer breaks out in a burst of historical laughter first, causing her to laugh just as hard and lean into his shoulder.

“Well, then it’s a good thing we have all weekend,” Spencer finally says, he wraps his arm around her and holds her close.

“Even if we don’t do it tonight, do you want to sleep in my bed with me?”

He nods against her, “Yeah… I’ve been thinking about that a lot actually. It’s really hard to leave here in the middle of the night knowing you’re sleeping alone in there when we were just cuddling right here,” he motions to the couch. “I want to wake up with you next to me every morning.”

The warmth that fills her stomach is a mixture of extreme happiness but also anxiety… it’s almost too good to be true. She pulls away and looks up at him with fearful eyes, “is it normal to fall in love this fast?” The words just tumble out of her.

Spencer shrugs, “I mean… I’ve always heard the saying ‘when you know, you know’ and I’ve read a lot about love at first sight and the way we pick our mates based on familiar facial structures that make us feel safe… and I’ve been in love before and I never met her—

“But I understand why you loved her, she was the only person in your life other than your mother to truly take care of you and listen…” Y/N cuts him off, remembering the night he told her all about Maeve.

“Yeah, and from the first day I met you, you’ve done the same,” Spencer reminds her. “You brought me muffins so that I’d have something to eat before work and you wanted to help me unpack and every day since you have cared for me more than anyone I know. Onto of that you’re beautiful and easy to talk to and you’re not only wonderful to me, but to everyone, you know. It wasn’t hard for me to love you, I’m just surprised you love me.”

“Why?”

“Well, for starters I’m a 42-year-old man who’s spent the last 20 years of my life hunting serial killers and I had a drug problem and I’ve killed people and I was in prison… you know everything and you still love me?” Spencer really can’t believe it.

“Mhm, I love you because despite all that shit that’s happened to you, you still have a sweet smile and a big heart and the best mind I know,” Y/N confirms everything he needed to know. “I love you because you’re you. There’s no other reason.”

He cups her cheek and looks at her with the softest expression known to man, “I’m going to love you forever.”

“Show me?” she whispers, pleading with her eyes to know just how much he loves her.

“Do we just leave our plates here?” He teases, going to stand up.

“I guess we can put them away,” she agrees, she moves to her knees and gathers up her own plate while Spencer does the same with his.

They meet again in the kitchen, placing both plates in her dishwasher, she turns to the leftovers and starts to pack them away while Spencer moves back over to his bag. He grabs his phone and something else while she’s not looking and he opens up Spotify. He doesn’t have many songs saved to his account, just some classical music and the most important song… Sweet Nothing.

She turns to him within milliseconds, “Spence?”

He places his phone on the counter and hands her a little rock, one he picked up on his walk over to see her before work last week. He never had the time to give it to her between all their kissing and her getting ready for work. “Here… it’s only May but I can get you another rock in July.”

She doesn’t want to speak or she’ll cry, but she manages to say: “okay,” as she takes it from him and steps into his space to dance again. In her kitchen this time…

She rests her head on his shoulder, his arms around her waist, they sway to the sound of the music and hold each other close. And then he kisses her shoulder and the side of her neck up to her ear. He cups her face in his hand and stares into her eyes, “bedroom?”

“Bedroom,” she agrees, taking his hand in hers, she leads him back into her room and turns on just the one table lamp she has beside her bed, “should we light candles and stuff?”

“Do you want to?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, isn’t that what people do when they have special sex?”

“Special sex?”

“You know, first times, birthday sex, anniversary sex… emotional sex,” she redefines what she meant and surprisingly she isn’t embarrassed.

“Candles would be nice, then,” Spencer agrees with a smile. “Do you have condoms? Are you on the pill?”

She smirks, “I bought some condoms on Tuesday after work.”

He watches her open her bedside table and take out the box of condoms and a lighter, she hands him the condoms, “Here.”

“Thanks,” he reads them over, latex-free, real feel, they’d work perfectly.

While he’s reading over the box, she lights a few candles in her room and he takes a seat on the side of her bed, watching her. When she returns to him, she stands between his legs and rests her hands on his shoulders. “You’re sure?”

“Absolutely,” Spencer smiles up at her and reaches out to hold her hips. He plays with the hem of her shirt, “how do you want to do this?”

“Can we strip down to our underwear and get into bed and kiss for a bit and see where it goes?”

“Of course, yeah, that sounds good,” Spencer agrees, he pushes up her shirt and she lifts her arms to help. Spencer has to stand up to pull it all the way off and then he looks down at her in her bra. “wow…”

“Thanks,” she smirks, shaking her head as she reaches for his shirt to undo the buttons, “they’re just boobs…”

“Just boobs,” he repeats with a small chuckle. “I’ll have you know everything about you is spectacular.” And with a rush of confidence, he cups both breasts with his hands, he runs his thumbs over where her nipples are hidden under the fabric and she has to bite her lip so she doesn’t moan.

“Do you like that?”

She nods and pushes his shirt off his shoulders until it's discarded on the floor. “Yeah. I don’t think you’ve ever noticed but… your hands… I watch them when you talk and when you’re tracing a page as you read really fast and you use two fingers instead of one and I’ve wanted you to touch me from the moment I saw you.”

“Mmm,” he turns her around and motions for her to get on the bed and she moves quickly, she’s resting her head on the pillows when he’s suddenly hovering over her.

He runs his pointer finger from her chin, down her neck and between the crease of her breasts before cupping them both again and places kisses on her exposed chest. She arches into the contact and his hands follow both her arms until his fingers are interlocked with hers. Holding them over her head as he kisses her neck and shoulder.

“So beautiful,” he whispers, “how’d I get so lucky?”

“We have a great mutual friend, remember?” She teases,

He groans “Don’t mention her when I’m about to go down on you…” he says as he nibbles at her skin and it makes her moan, grinding her hips up against him, she wants him so bad but she still has her pants on. He sits on his knees between her spread legs and undoes the button as she lifts her hips, helping him glide them down her legs and off. He tosses them to the floor and goes right back in, gripping her by the hips he leans down and kisses her stomach… something she never thought any man would do.

He wants her just as bad as she wants him and it’s prevalent in the way his eyes are blown out as he looks up at her, pleading with his eyes, all he says is “Can I?” And she nods. He pulls her underwear down and tosses them off only to lift one and kiss from her ankle and all the way up to her knee and then he dips in closer, smothering her inner thigh with kisses and nips and then he sucks a deep purple mark into her skin, lapping over it with his tongue before blowing on it softly.

“Holy fuck,” she moans as he gets closer to her pussy and all she wants is his hands on her.

Almost like he reads her mind, he moves to the other leg and hurries along until he’s kissing right along where her underwear used to meet her thigh. Then, he spreads her pussy and licks a broad stripe along her cunt. He presses a kiss to her clit next as she bucks her hips into the sensation, “Oh my god, Spence?”

“Shh,” he whispers, looking up at her from between her legs like a man starved. “Just enjoy it, I’ve always wanted to do this.”

She’s so turned on from the teasing alone, and then he adds a finger, he gently circles it around her hole before inserting it slowly, seeing how much give she has before he takes it all. The feeling of his tongue on her is unlike anything she’s ever felt before, he’s soft yet rough and sweet yet disgusting with the noises he’s making. She can’t help reaching out and gripping his hair as her hips lift from the bed again. With only one free hand, he pushes her back down against the bed and she whines. When he adds a second finger, the stretch isn’t too much to handle, he’s so much better with his hands than she figured he’d be as he finger fucks her. His tongue on her clit and freehand trails from her hip up to grip her tit as he grinds against the mattress, he’s so into it she’s worried he might not get to really fuck her.

“Spencer,” she pants, “holy fuck Spence, please, oh my god,” she can barely make it through the sentence when his fingers curl and her legs tremble.

“Cum for me,” he growls against her and her body listens as she jolts forward and she feels the rush flow through her bloodstream.

“Oh!” she cups her breast and arches her back, oblivious to how he watches her while still lapping at her clit.

When it gets to be too much for her, she grips his hair tighter and pulls him off, “fuck me, now… please?”

“Is it an order or a suggestion,” he teases as he kisses back up her body with his glistening and wet lips, “well?”

“Please?” She looks at him with the sweetest, most fucked out expression. “That was amazing, baby.”

“Fuck,” he groans and drags himself off the bed so he can push his pants and boxers off in one fell swoop. Now, only in his mismatched socks, he doesn’t really have the time to take them off as he reaches for the abandoned box of condoms at the foot of her bed.

She watches contently as he hastily rips it open and rolls it on before he gets back on the bed. He gets right back to where he was, between her legs, he places his hands on her knees and soothes them down her inner thighs, “you sure?”

She nods, “I’m ready.”

“Okay,” he says with a deep breath, readying himself in the meantime, he grips himself at the base and pushes the head into her, inch by inch, he watches as her mouth opens in a silent gasp.

“My god…” he coos, “it’s like you were fuckin made for me.”

She’s speechless, reading out for more of him, she’s desperate for his touch. Her hands land on his hips, his skin is so soft and warm and then they’re flush together. He bottoms out and stills, he drops down so that they’re chest to chest and she cups his face instead, “Hi…”

“Hi,” he manages to laugh, holding himself up with one arm, his other hand pushes her hair back off her forehead and stays there. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she says as she pulls him in for a kiss, tasting herself on his tongue, he collapses onto her and wraps his arm around her, angling her hips up as he starts to thrust.

The kiss gets hungrier, and they moan into each other as he picks up the pace, really fucking her just like she asked him to. She has no idea where this side of him came from but she can’t explain how much she likes it, the hand that was once in her hair is now pushed into the pillow, bracing himself as he hovers and fucks her deeply.

She absentmindedly runs her hand along his forearm and takes his hands in hers, interlocking their fingers before he holds it over her head again and fucks into her with vigour. Her legs wrap around him, every trust grinds his pubic bone against her clit and she’s still so sensitive, she’s so incredibly close that all she can do is sloppily kiss him and moan into his mouth.

His hips snap faster and faster as he fucks her and she can’t hold back anymore when she tosses her head back and sucks him in more. “Oh my god,” and “Holy fuck,” is all she can say, making him smirk.

He’s trying his hardest to keep his composure, breathing quickly, it’s the best workout he’s ever had trying to keep the pace and please her right. “I might,” he says between pants, “I might last a while… cause my meds—

“I don’t care,” she uses her free hand to cup his cheek again, “I want to stay here forever, holy shit.”

“Yeah?”

She tosses her head back again, “Oh my god, yeah!”

He just laughs and it’s the sexiest thing she’s ever heard. She’s right there at the edge when he retrieves his hand from behind her back and rubs his thumb over her clit, “you can cum, if you want.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” she says, running her hand down his chest and looking between them to see what he’s doing, “I want to finish with you.”

His grip on the hand she’s holding gets tighter, he’s sweaty and losing stamina and nowhere close to being done. “Do you want to switch positions?” She asks, “It’s okay?”

“Can we?” He slows to a stop, “you’re okay with that?”

“Spence, I love you,” she reminds him, “It’s fine, it’s better than fine, actually… I’ve heard all my friends talk about dudes who last 5 seconds, this is more than I ever expected.”

“I’m just anxious, you can see why I take them,” he gets all blushy and bashful as he lets go of her hand, pulls out and sits back up on his knees.

She sits up too, taking her bra off in the process. She tosses it to the floor and his jaw drops when he sees her naked chest, “fuck..” He mumbles under his breath.

“Here, you sit up against the headboard,” she suggests, moving out of the way so he can take her place.

Once he’s settled she straddles his hips and takes his cock in her hand, angling it toward her entering as she sits upon it. Once he’s fully inside she drapes her arms around his shoulders and smiles at him, “We can do it this way… now you’ve got a face full of tits.”

His hands soothe down her bare back down to her hips, he licks his lips as he looks at them and helps her glide her body against his. “My god,” he all but moans, watching her boobs jiggle as she starts to really ride him.

“You’re so deep,” she moans, tossing her head back again to free up her neck, he pulls her in and kisses her from her shoulder up to her ear, lighting sucking at her earlobe, he brings his hand up to cup her cheek and ends up gripping her hair at the nape of her neck and pulling her to the side so he can messily smother her in kisses. “No marks, I have teenagers to teach, ‘member? They’re fucking ruthless.”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, too into it to really care, his other hand reaches down to thumb at her clit, he’s getting close and she wants to finish with him.

He finally does cup her face with the hand that was just in her hair, he caresses her cheek with his thumb, pulling her back in for a kiss that’s all tongue. She moans into his mouth, running her hands down his chest, she uses his as leverage to keep pushing back before grinding down on him, he’s right against her g-spot and so fucking deep she can feel him everywhere, “Spence,” she whines, pulling back from the kiss, “are you close?”

“Uh-huh,” he pulls her back in, kissing her deeper, he wraps both his arms around her back and lifts her up, laying her back against the bed and slams his hips into hers over and over.

Her back arches again and she opens her mouth in a silent moan, it’s so good she can barely breathe. She reaches out for him, gripping his biceps, he attacks her neck again, covering her in sloppy kisses and hot breath. His pelvic bone grinds against her clit, again and again, bringing her right to the edge again until she finally peaks, moaning, she arches her back as her orgasm rushes through her but he doesn’t stop. He fucks her through it, chasing his own high.

“Fuck, I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbles, through his last few thrusts, and then he stills with a groan, filling the condom, he drops down against her.

they’re a ball of limbs, holding each other so close she doesn’t know where she ends and he begins. He buries his face in her neck, still kissing her, she holds him tighter, “I love you so much, too, Spencer.”

taglist:

@reidsbookclub @samuel-de-champagne-problems @superskittles @thedancingcostumeyoungadult @midnightreids @ncsls0515 @stevesmunsons @sweetyyhippyy @manuosorioh @mrs-dr-reid @k-k0129

#Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine

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gracies-baby · 5 months

Note

hi! I love your writing, I've sorta been binge reading them, sorry if you don't like spam😭

I was just wondering if u could do a jenna ortega x f!r please?

maybe r likes to keep her life private 100% of the time. it's hard, being who she's with, but they try

obviously it's not really possible to be 100% invisible of the public eye, but when she is seen, she gets lots of hate and rude things said and jenna confronts that as well as comforts r (aliyah does too before jenna finds out)

facing each other cuddles too if you can?

sorry if this request is weird😭 but if you decide not to write it, do you think you could just lmk please? thank you!

<<<333

Internet Hate

(Jenna Ortega x Reader)

——————————————————————————

Breaking! Jenna Ortega and partner, Y/n L/n seen out! Seeing a glimpse of L/n is rare, people swarm around the two!

Y/n seems like such a bitch honestly. Like, why would you not want to be seen with Jenna

If Y/n doesn't want Jenna I'll happily have her

Go away L/n why are you even here

As Y/n reads the comments on the article, tears stream down her face.

"Hey Y/n, did I leave something here- what happened?" Her girlfriend's sister asks as she frantically rushes over to her.

"Nothing. It doesn't matter. What are you looking for?" Y/n asks as she fakes a smile, wiping her tears away.

"It does matter. Oh. Was it this?" Aliyah as she looks at her future sister-in-laws phone, seeing all the negative comments.

"Really, it doesn't matter" Y/n replies as she looks away.

"Y/n, come on" Aliyah mumbles trying to get the girl to talk.

"I just want a quiet, private life with my girlfriend! Why can't people respect that? Her career had nothing to do with our relationship so why do people always criticise our lives?" Y/n sobs into her hands as Aliyah rubs her back.

"People are just critical. There's nothing any of us can do to stop that. But it doesn't matter what they think. We all love you, they're all just dicks" Aliyah comforts the girl as her sobs get quieter. Aliyah gets out her phone and begins her text her sister.

Aliyah

Hey, can you come home

Jenna

I'm working what do you want

Aliyah

Dude it's not for me. You're girlfriends breaking down she needs you

Jenna

I'll be there in 10

Aliyah continues to comfort her friend until Jenna arrives, Aliyah leaving after she fills her sister in.

"Hey love, ignore the internet, alright? They don't know what they're talking about. They don't know anything about you or me or our lives. There's nothing wrong with having a private relationship" Jenna says after placing a soft kiss against her girlfriend's lips and pulling her in for a hug.

"Why can't they just leave us alone? Your career has nothing to do with your personal life. Why can't they just stay out of it?" Y/n asks as she hides her face in her girlfriend's shoulder.

"I dunno. They're all assholes I guess" Jenna jokes causing Y/n to let out a soft laugh. Jenna pulls away so she can pull out her phone as Y/n looks over her shoulder, watching as her girlfriend makes a post.

JennaOrtega

Stop talking about my private life. My relationship has never been and will never be yours to discuss. We decided together that we would like to keep our relationship private. Please respect that.

The girl posts it on all her social media before pulling her girlfriend to lay on the bed with her.

"I love you so much. Never listen to what they say" Jenna murmurs as she pulls the girl closer to her so their faces are nearly touching.

"I love you too. Thank you so much for loving me" Y/n mumbles with a soft smile as Jenna pulls her in for a soft kiss.

#fluff #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday addams x reader #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x reader

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stellayuta · 3 months

Text

Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 5 (FINALE)

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 💙

PART 1 ||| PART 2 ||| PART 3 ||| PART 4 ||| PART 5

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3 WARNING! Always use protection!

word count: 10k

a/n: part 5 and the final part! For the purpose of this story, Last race of the season takes place in Japan, not Abu Dhabi.

"Y/N..." A voice tries to break your rigid concentration. "Listen, Y/N..."

"What!" you snap finally, turning to face your anxious coworker. You look away from your monitor to find one of the timid interns holding her laptop shakily, mortified at your outburst. You clear your throat and quickly readjust your computer glasses.

"I'm sorry about that, I was just going through some of the client meeting notes." You clarify, pointing at your screen. "What's wrong?"

"No, I just wanted to make sure the tickets were booked right. I've never traveled out of the county. And this is such a big deal as an intern, I-I want to make sure I do everything right!" she blurts out, making you give her a small, nostalgic smile. You remember when you were an intern - tiny, timid, clueless. When you moved out of your small town, you left behind all the things that restricted or haunted you. Now your new job is flashier than ever, in the heart of a metropolitan city, buzzing with people and possibilities and with a promotion on the horizon. It had been a year, and you don't even remember Megumi's face anymore. You had no hard feelings and not even a single second of your time left to give to him anymore.

It was hard at first of course, but encouragement and support from your friends and a lot of self-work soon helped you find balance and self-satisfaction in life. You were at your healthiest at this point. Away from turmoil and away from self-doubt.

"Y/N, did you listen?" the intern looked at you nervously, derailing your train of thought yet again.

"Come again, sorry."

"The other Manager has recommended your name to accompany me at the Tech Summit, with two other interns. He said you'll be able to manage us properly. They've already booked your tickets."

You almost choke on the coffee you're sipping.

"What? Who the hell gave them-" you begin to roar but then looking at the poor girl cower in fear, you sit back down.

"No, no. I'm not mad at you."

You were mad because this was the weekend of the last race. The decider match.

Of course, it had been a year, you had metamorphosized, moved on. But you never forgot the race that got you on the edge of your seat back in Vegas. And neither did you forget the man who drove you crazy with lust. Not even for a single day. His business card was still hidden underneath your phone cover, creaseless. You had never dared to look at his number.

Now, you cheered him on as a fan. Following his races, rooting for him. Every now and then, your heart would ache - but you were happy for him. The only connection you had with him was through your device screen.

After a disappointing end to his last season, you had a lot of guilt. He clearly looked a bit weary, insomnia ridden for sure. Not willing to talk during interviews, keeping a low profile. He had gathered a lot of negative press because of this, people on social media sending him death threats, cyber bullying him, picking apart anything he said or did. It broke you to see him that way and there were many times you wanted to reach out - comfort him. But you knew it wasn't right.

You weren't ready then and he definitely didn't need a reminder that you happened to him. And now, it's too late for any of that.

Yuta maintained his aggressive, dominant racing style that he cultivated over the last year compared to the calm, calculative run he had during the years prior. It was a shock to the grid, but newer fans were very fond of the new beast that the track had birthed. He spoke less, remained polite and stayed out of trouble - focusing everything on winning races.

Fan interaction was the least of his concerns right now because Geto's team, Red Bull - had come up with massive and effective updates making the fight for the title a challenging yet thrilling one. They wanted to continue their laurels from last year and secure Geto his second win. They were closely tailed by Gojo and Geto's teammate, Mahito.

Geto and Yuta were currently tied in the standings. The final match was to take place on Sunday. The decider. Yuta and Geto's home race. And you would now miss it because that stupid manager can't be bothered to move his ass.

"I have plans. I can't make it." you flatly tell the intern who merely frowns. She was probably prepared to get a rejection from me because she is ready with her rebuttal. "The manager said you had committed a few weekends this summer. He just picked this one based on that."

"I'll talk to him." you reply, shaking your head and pinching your throbbing temple. With great responsibilities, come great migraines.

"Where is the summit anyway?" you ask, already typing out a message for her manager.

"Oh, It's in Japan. I'm quite excited, it's a beautiful country."

Japan?

You backspace the entire message.

"Never mind, I'm coming." You leave your laptop open as the split window flashes with a formula one ad - "Decider Race in Suzuka, Japan. Join the Fun, December this Year!"

"Let me meet up with your supervisors and talk more."

*****

The immigration at Japan's Nagoya International Airport, with three kids tailing you, hiding behind you like puppies is a bit of hassle with the language barrier and everything, but you persist regardless.

It's rather comfortably cool but not bitingly cold, even for December, owing to Suzuka's more southern location - compared to Tokyo. There is no sign of snowfall as you witnessed from the airplane while it descended. It would be good conditions for the race - a bit dry perhaps. And of course, the summit, the main attraction!

The interns, though a bit overwhelmed by the new environment, are starting to show signs of excitement as well. Their initial shyness is giving way to curiosity, their eyes wide with wonder at the sights and sounds of the bustling airport. You smile, knowing that this experience will be a memorable adventure for them too.

You are finally able to catch a shuttle to the hotel you're staying at - a five star one (courtesy of your company) and are finally able to relax, staring out the foggy window at the organized and clean Japanese streets, and the people, dressed in plain, formal clothes walking to work perhaps. You almost get lost in the mundanity of it all until the interns alert you that the hotel is here.

You all get down with all your luggage and gawk at the premier hotel building with its cream granite exterior, European design and tall pillars. It looked a bit out of place in the minimalistic spread of Suzuka. There is already a line at the receptionist's desk when you near it, making you sigh.

"Ah foo-" you turn to face your interns. "Can one of you hold the place while I sit somewhere?" The interns hesitantly, but definitively shake their head to say No. Kids, they grow up fast.

You stand in line for what feels like an hour but is only a few minutes until you hear an entourage approach you with their shiny, expensive luggage and matching clothes.

"We have VIP access, let us cut." one of them, a suited and no-nonsense woman tells you. You raise a brow at her, staring at her chapping red lips and burgundy jacket.

"Like hell. Cut after us, we're going first." You tell them flatly.

"Listen, we don't have time for this so please just comply..." the woman tries to negotiate but you don't want to budge.

"I don't have time either." you raise your hand.

"Let me handle this..." A man steps in front of the woman, towering over both of you. He is completely covered head to toe in a red beanie, red track suit and dark glasses with a black face-mask. Before he can say anything though, he simply looks at you and your interns.

"Y/N?" He removes his glasses to show a pair of cerulean eyes that you immediately match with a snowy head and a flashy personality in your brain.

"No way..." you clasp at your mouth. "Gojo Satoru?" you exclaim, confusing the parade of staff, probably Ferrari staff behind him.

"Next!" the receptionist bellows before you two can talk further and you make haste, finishing up the formalities, grabbing the keycard and returning to talk to Gojo, followed by your heard of puppies who look at Gojo skeptically. Of course they would, if a flashy, red man showed up.

"I'm- Where the hell have you been? You just disappeared!" He says and you open your mouth to defend yourself but he clearly has more to say.

"Yuta was distraught! What the hell happened between the two of you anyway! He won't talk to Geto, well they are kind of on weird terms now anyway. But he won't even talk to me!"

Hearing Yuta's name makes you immediately divert your eyes.

"H-How has he been?" you ask, softly.

"Well he was in a mood last season. We were all afraid he'd run us over with his Merc." Gojo admits, recalling some eerie memory of Yuta. "Well, specifically he was angry. But wouldn't talk about it. He got reprimanded by the management of course and started to focus his anger on the races instead." He tells you.

"I mean, he was always a beast on the track, a once in a generation talent. But now, he's simply incomparable. The only races he lost out on this season were ones where he pushed the car so hard, the engine or the mechanism went off."

Internally, you are happy that Yuta seems to be doing well. But somewhere, you feel a pang of discomfort. This isn't the Yuta you know. Or any of his peers know.

"Give me your number by the way..." Gojo asks, excitedly, removing his phone, also bright red. Human Ferrari he is, for sure.

"What for?"

"To leak on the internet..."

"Gojo..."

"What to hang out of course. And I have something to send to you." He says, forcing you to divulge your number which you do, with a grimace. What could go wrong anyway.

"Oh, and I don't know if you're still on talking terms with Yuta but, he's on floor 5 of this hotel, meet him if you want-" Gojo tells you and your heart skips a beat. You sneak a glance at your keycard and feel your throat go dry. You are on floor 5 as well. Before you can say anything else though, the Ferraris are on their way.

"Make sure you are free tomorrow! It's race day!" He says, without turning as their entourage enters the glass elevators.

"How do you know him, Y/N, he was quite hot..." One of the interns tugs at your elbow.

"Was he a former sweetheart?" The other intern grins at you.

"Hell no!" you snap. "That's a professional formula one racer. Watch ESPN a bit more, kids." you say, pulling them along with you to floor 5. You hope and pray with all your might that you don't run into Yuta at any point. Only when you send them off to their suites and enter your own, you finally take a huge breath of relief.

You thought you were over Yuta as well. That you could look at him and interact with him as fan. Maybe that was the case, given you'd never see run into him again. You cover your reddening face with your hands as you slump down to the ground and go into memory mode. It all comes back to you all of a sudden. His height, his dark hair, his large, innocent eyes, his firm, toned body and careful hands. His calming voice and his cozy demeanor. The more you think about him, the soggier your panties feel. You cannot afford to get out of this hotel room and run into him. You have no idea what you will do to him if you see him. Plus, what if he has a girlfriend now? Control yourself, Y/N. Show maturity.

You suck in a harsh breath and get off the carpeted floor, instead removing your laptop from your bag and checking emails to distract yourself. An ad keeps popping up in the corner of your screen though - about the Decider Race in Suzuka. And after all your attempts to ignore it, you finally click on it, annoyed.

You go through the seats and the prices. Even the cheapest, general admission ticket you can find sells for a fortune, making you gasp at the numbers. Great. This gives you a solid reason to NOT go. Now you can use it as an excuse to convince your brain that you are not losing out on an opportunity.

You shut the tab and continue looking at your agenda for tomorrow, smiling and humming to yourself in relief. That is until you hear your phone buzz to life, beside your laptop.

You check it to see a few messages from an unknown number.

"Helloooo!!!"

"Gojo here. Satoru Gojo. Handsomest driver on the grid. Ferrari's muse and face."

"You are already 20 seconds late at replying. Be quicker!"

You cringe at the string of messages and send him a thumbs up emoji as a reply, snickering menacingly when he sends another string of complaints. You wonder if Gojo too has a queue of women waiting for him to notice them. In that case, has he been influencing Yuta too?

You shut the thought down immediately. You're a fan. You remind yourself.

"Look what I got for you. Thank me later."

*Attached File*

Did he send you a trojan virus? nope. It's worse.

You open up the PDF file to find a ticket of some sort. Only it's the paddock VIP ticket for the race tomorrow. You'll be in Ferrari's stands.

You type out a long, long, long message. One full of swears and reprimands. But you backspace all of it and instead hit the call button.

"Ah, hi. Did you see-"

"WHAT'S THE MEANING OF THIS GOJO SATORU!" you shriek into the phone receiver earning a yelp from Gojo.

"It's a once in a lifetime opportunity, Y/N. You can't say no."

"But-"

"I've already paid."

"....."

"Oh, come on. Cheer for me. Come. You'll have fun!"

You are too angry to answer, and you simply cut the call. After your five minutes of anger subsides, anxiety takes its place. So, this is it. You get to see Yuta demolish the track live. Maybe this will be the last time ever. Maybe it's a good thing.

You decide to not think too much about it and just sleep on it instead. And sleep comes fairly easy, after your day-long air travel and the nervousness that maybe Yuta is hugging his blankets with his muscular arms, right next door. You picture those arms around your waist for a second and reminisce his deep blue eyes as you fall asleep, a bit bothered and surely wet.

*****

The next morning, you wake up before the sun even has a chance to show its face. You take a cold shower and prepare everything for the day to come. The Tech Summit will be a crucial stage to showcase your company and you, and your interns have to do a good job. As soon as the clock strikes 7, you go knocking on their doors to wake them up by force.

"Rise and shine, children! We've got some serious networking ahead of us!" you announce with infectious enthusiasm. Suddenly, the volume of your voice strikes you, and a wave of panic sweeps over you at the thought of waking Yuta. The mere idea of him hearing your voice and peeking out from one of the doors sends a shiver down your spine. With your heart racing, you quickly inform the interns that you're heading to the reception area. Without missing a beat, you make your escape, your high heels tapping a rhythm masked by the plush carpet that blankets the entire floor, each step a silent testament to your urgency.

The ground floor lobby of the hotel in the morning is a serene yet bustling oasis of activity. Sunlight streams in through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm, golden glow across the polished marble floors. The air is filled with a subtle blend of fresh coffee and the delicious aroma of breakfast from the lavish dining court, north of the lobby. Plush, modern sofas and armchairs are arranged in cozy clusters, inviting guests to sit and relax.You were too busy with Gojo to notice any of this, last evening.

As you walk around amongst the many hotel guests who are going about their way, enthralled, you take a seat in one of the sofas. You even see familiar colors, worn by some of the people in groups. You see the full teals of Aston Martin, the pinks of Alpine, the orange of McLaren. Looks like the entire grid is housed in this hotel. You gulp as you try to keep an eye out for any sight of black and subtle teal of Mercedes.

Instead, you feel a shifting of feet beside you and find a group of dark blue and red clad people looking rather grave and sitting on adjacent sofas, in a close huddle. It doesn’t take too long to recognize long, sleek hair half tied up and half down. His snake-like eyes scan the huddle, as if he’s commanding them. You don’t forget the aura of Geto Suguru. A pale guy, with wild matted and blue hair sits beside him, with a manic expression on his face, like he’s his lap dog. This must be Mahito. They seem to be having some sort of serious conversation with their team. You can’t help but listen in, keeping your eyes on the ground.

“So what are we going to do about Strategy A?” one of the Red Bull engineers asks Geto, in a low voice, looking around to see if any of the teams are paying attention.

“Act normal, Garner.” Geto tells him, smiling sweetly but darkly. “Don’t act suspicious and no one will notice.”

“We are to proceed with Strategy B. We don’t attack the rest of the grid today. We will only focus on the Mercedes duo.” Geto states.

“That was the plan all along.” The Red Bull staff interjects. “What are you saying?”

“Well your plan was for me to defend against Okkotsu and Mahito to defend against Merc number 2, Inumaki.” Geto begins as the team leans in closer to pay attention. Mahito seems strangely excited to get a mention from Geto.

“My plan is that we leave Inumaki alone. He’s of no consequence to us. He’ll be too busy defending against the Ferraris.” Geto continues and your brows furrow. What is he on to?

“I am sitting on the pole. And Okkotsu is second. The best way to go about it is to get Mahito to play on the offensive. Okkotsu gets rash and risky when faced with competition or close tailers. It is likely Mahito and Okkotsu will take each other out.”

Your eyes widen as you hear this.

“And Inumaki has the slower car. Ferrari’s engineers wouldn’t anticipate number 2 and 3 being knocked out. They are more prepared for a podium finish, not the top finish. This will ensure that Red Bull will go home with the Driver’s Championship trophy.” Geto concludes his idea and the Red Bull team immediately begin discussing its feasibility. From the sound of it, most of them seem on board. Mahito seems to be the most excited, willing to give anything for Geto to get his second title.

The absurdity of the ongoing discussion is enough for you to look up and find yourself directly looking into Geto Suguru’s skeptical eyes. Your nostrils flare and a sweat breaks out atop your forehead at the thought of being caught. He narrows his eyes at you but dismisses you as a fan. He doesn’t recognize you.

Thank GOODNESS.

You smile at him and quickly move away from their group of sofas. As fast as you can. So they are going to use Yuta’s driving style against him today. Which is fine. They are willing to crash into him to take him out as well. This is all a pre-planned, premeditated attempt to injure, or…you gulp… murder.

You lean against one of the reception desks to gather yourself for a minute. The lobby’s morning hustle now feels like a surreal backdrop to the chilling plot you’ve just overheard. The hum of conversations, the clinking of breakfast dishes, and the soft footsteps of guests blend into a muted buzz as your mind races. You need to warn Yuta, but how?

Your interns show up soon, their bright, eager faces a stark contrast to the dark conversation you just overheard. They’re ready to go for the summit, unaware of the dangerous game being plotted in the corner of the lobby. As they approach, you take a deep breath, plaster on a smile, and try to push the sinister revelations to the back of your mind. You don’t see the Mercedes team anywhere in the lobby anyway, so you take your leave for the moment, feeling a tightness in your chest.

While the task at hand is crucial, you are more than confident that you can handle it flawlessly. The Tech Summit is being held at one of the corporate headquarters in the city area, a sleek skyscraper with reflective glass windows that glisten in the morning sun. As you step into the spacious lobby, you are greeted by an impressive display of innovation: booths showcasing various avenues in computing. Executives in sharp suits mingle with tech enthusiasts, the air buzzing with excitement and possibility.

Once you are in, you send off your beaming and well-prepared interns to talk to some big shots, their enthusiasm palpable as they approach various booths and networking clusters. You retire to a quiet corner, checking your phone and brainstorming for your next move. It's only a few hours until the race in Suzuka, Japan, a pivotal event in the Formula One calendar. The summit’s focus on the intersection of technology and sports is evident, with several companies proudly displaying their investments in Formula One.

Tech giants are pouring millions into F1, not just for branding but for the practical applications of cutting-edge technology in car performance, data analytics, and real-time communication systems. The fusion of high-speed racing and high-tech innovation is a perfect synergy, driving advancements that benefit both the automotive and tech industries.

However, the tension from earlier this morning lingers. Despite the engaging presentations and lively discussions around you, the clandestine conversation you overheard refuses to leave your mind. The race in Suzuka today is more than just a sporting event—it’s a battleground where the stakes are life and death, a thought that chills you as you consider Geto’s ruthless strategy.

You open your phone to find a few messages from Gojo and it makes a bulb go off in your head.

“Come to the hotel lobby at around 4PM. I’ll send someone to pick you up. I’m at the track right now.” He has texted. You read the message and pull out Yuta’s card from your phone cover. You don’t waste time and call him right away. A woman receives your call on the other end.

“Hello! Is Yuta free?” you ask, desperately but you can tell from the woman’s silence that it is not the case.

“He won’t be free until after the race. I’m sorry.”

‘I-it’s fine.” you laugh nervously, keeping the phone.

That idea was a bust.

Before you can think more, you are pulled in by one of your interns to help you out with a heated discussion they are having with a company representative on use cases of Artificial Intelligence. The rest of the morning and afternoon goes this way, with your hands full of discussions and debates with Men in Tech, mistaking you for one of the interns until you sigh and show them your badge of ‘Director of Software Engineering’, before obliterating them during the ‘discussions’ with a curt smile.

You don’t think about the race until after you have exited the premises of the Summit along with your pumped up interns who are waxing lyrical about you. They won’t stop talking even on the cab ride back home.

“That was amazing Y/N. You saved our necks.”

“Just be confident and patient till they give you a moment to strike.” you tell them wearily.

Probably a strategy Mahito will be using today.

“Do we go out today for drinks? How about it?” The interns begin discussing among themselves while I tune them out, shaking my leg in agitation.

“Y/N, want to join us?” one of them asks you eagerly and politely reject their invitation.

“I have plans today.”

“What plans?” The male intern asks, curious. The other two also lean in to listen.

“I am going to watch a Formula One Race, it’s in Suzuka.” You tell them and their eyes go all sparkly before they begin smirking at you.

“It’s the hot driver guy isn’t it. He invited you? That’s awesome Y/N! Looks like he’s interested!” This makes you scoff. “He’s just a friend. He’s not the one I have eyes for anyway.”

“Oooo, so there is someone you have eyes for!” they chime together. “Who is it?”

An image instantly pops into your head. One of him hovering over you as you moaned out his name. You smile to yourself and dismiss the interns’ questions, making all of them pout.

As you enter the hotel lobby, a stark contrast from its earlier bustling atmosphere greets you. The lively chatter and movement have dissipated, leaving behind an eerie quiet that amplifies the grandeur of the space. The reception area, usually a hub of activity, is now manned by a solitary staff member who nods politely as you pass.

Heading towards the elevator, a wave of unease washes over you, chilling your hands. Should you attempt to find Yuta by knocking on every door on the fifth floor? No, that would likely result in being ejected from the hotel.

Entering your room with a frustrated grunt, you slam the door shut behind you. Another cold shower helps clear your mind, though your appetite remains nonexistent. Stomach growling, you mechanically brush your teeth and change out of your morning pant suit into a comfortable ensemble: a red sweater, blue jeans, and sneakers. The choice of red is a nod to Ferrari, aligning with your plans for the day.

Feeling more at ease in casual attire, you pause to gather your thoughts. It’s 3:45 PM. You should head out now. You grab your phone, keys and wallets and walk out of the suite, impatiently trotting towards the elevator. You turn the corner just in time to see it close. Maybe you are hallucinating but you barely spot a glint of black and teal behind the doors as they swiftly close.

You stop dead in your tracks for merely a moment before you sprint towards the elevator. But that one is gone now. You press the down button for the second one and tap your foot on the ground, waiting for it to arrive desperately.

When it takes you down to the ground floor, you come out, wildly looking around to see the familiar colors again. When you finally see them, your words all drown in your feelings as you see the black and teal clad man get into the back of a car, giving the driver a quick nod and a short smile.

It was from fairly far away that you saw him, but you were certain. It was Yuta.

You have to hold yourself upright as you nearly begin hyperventilating and the receptionist has to come and check on you.

“I-I’m sorry, I’m fine.” you assure him, as he makes you sit on one of the sofas. You watch intently through the glass windows as Yuta’s car zooms past. That was your chance! If only you had come out two minutes earlier and weren’t drifting away in your fantasies.

You had to focus now. You can’t afford to have your legs turn to jelly or your head spin out of control anymore.

When the person meant to pick you up arrived, donning a red jacket and black pants, you were completely calm and composed — now willing to think clearly about what to do next.

The drive to the Suzuka Circuit is rather short for obvious reasons. The hotel had been picked to be accessible from the circuit. The car your driver has brought along isn’t a Ferrari, unfortunately.

Arriving at Suzuka Circuit as the evening settles in, the atmosphere is electric with anticipation. The sprawling complex is illuminated by bright floodlights, casting long shadows across the paddock and grandstands. The air buzzes with the hum of engines from nearby practice sessions and the excited chatter of fans who have gathered from around the world to witness the fight for domination between Red Bull and Mercedes.

The paddock itself is a hive of activity. Teams in their distinctive colors, now suited up in their race-suits, bustle about, mechanics fine-tuning the cars under the watchful eyes of engineers. Media personnel dart between interviews, capturing the pre-race fervor and probing for insights. Paparazzi lurk at every corner, their cameras flashing intermittently as they seek shots of drivers and celebrities who have shown up to support the drivers/take pictures for social media.You stare at the whole spread, starry eyed and very much in awe. It feels surreal as the world around you moves at 2x speed.

The cars themselves are a spectacle to behold. The sleek, aerodynamic designs gleam under the lights, adorned with sponsor logos and intricate details. Each team’s car reflects their engineering prowess and commitment to performance excellence, poised to navigate the demanding twists and turns of Suzuka Circuit. You want to go ahead and take a closer look but the Ferrari guy who is guiding you around stops you from doing so until later.

“You can see Ferrari’s car later.” he tells you reassuringly but you frown at him.

You spot Mercedes, clad in their silvery-black-teal livery, standing out with their meticulous preparations, but you maintain a straight face. Red Bull, in their vibrant blue and red, exude confidence and determination as you narrow your eyes at them.

You are finally taken to Ferrari’s section — an attractive mix of red and gold flying in the stands and the air. The fans add to the vibrant tapestry of the evening. Dressed in team colors, they wave flags and banners, eagerly awaiting autographs and selfies with their favorite drivers. The scent of food from vendors mixes with the exhaust fumes, creating a unique blend that signifies race day excitement.

“Oh, look. There’s Mr. Gojo!” your guide cheers excitedly pointing to a separated section where two shiny, red cars sit in all their glory, surrounded by an army of mechanics and staff, also dressed in red. Seated in one of Ferrari's cars, a familiar figure catches your eye. He sits in the cockpit, helmet off, his tousled white hair catching the light as he adjusts his gloves with practiced ease. Spotting you amidst the crowd, Gojo flashes a brilliant smile and waves enthusiastically from the cockpit.

“Excited?” He tries to yell out over the crowd as you near him and his team. You nod and smile at his engineers before cornering him.

“Did you see Yuta?” you ask Gojo.

“Busy day man. Haven’t really kept an eye out for him. Why won’t you go talk to him? Mercedes is right over there!” He says, pointing a gloved finger at the black and teal team.

“Won’t allow her… strategic secrets can’t be spilled.” Your guide tells you and Gojo, who seems to be unaware.

“Gojo, there’s something I need to tell you…” you begin, your unwavering eyes grabbing Gojo’s full attention as he puts on a serious face.

“What’s wrong?”

“I-It’s about Geto Suguru.”

“Suguru?” Gojo asks, his voice softening by a note. “What’s up with him?”

“Their team. They’re planning a dangerous strategy.” you say, only to get a few stares from the engineering team over at Ferrari. Gojo narrows his eyes at you, the cerulean blue piercing through you.

“And how do you know about this strategy?”

“I overheard. They’re going to make Yuta crash out.”

“Y/N.” Gojo calls out your name, and for the first time in his life, he sounds serious as hell. “Are you accusing Suguru of conspiracy? You know it’s illegal and could cost him his license.”

“But that’s what I heard!” you try to reason but Gojo doesn’t want to hear any of it.

“Suguru has known us since we were young. He would not do such a thing. And I suggest you don’t say this to anyone, not without evidence. Especially to Yuta, he won’t take kindly to it.” Gojo warns you. You hesitate on your spot before your Ferrari guide has to pull you away from the cars.

“Okay, that’s about it.” He says, dragging you away. “We can’t meddle with his concentration right before the race. Talk with him later, Miss Y/N.”

“B-but, I wasn’t done.” you complain, feeling a sting of pain in your elbow where the man grips you. “Hey, let me go!”

“Listen! I just don’t want you confusing our drivers!” He finally snaps, spitting out at you.

“Their mental state is important! You can’t just say these things to them and bother them right before a crucial race!” he roars as I cringe in the slight flame of fear I feel inside him.

Everyone is way too busy in their chatter and taking photos of cars and drivers to notice what’s happening so you will have to struggle out of this on your own.

You try to break free from his grip but in vain.

“Let them get onto the track. I’ll let you go then.” He tells you, calmly.

“Are you holding me hostage right now? I said I understand, let me go!” you yelp, going for another twist of your arm to break free but the man has an iron grip. You begin panicking again now until you see another arm appear from the corner of your eye and hold on to the guide’s arm.

The arm, covered in silvery black, padded material of a race suit. When you look at his face, your breath nearly stops. He doesn’t make eye contact with you, he barely seems to have noticed you. His penetrating gaze is fixed on your guide and he has him trapped in place.

“What’s the problem here?” He asks, in a rough low voice.

“N-Nothing, I was just escorting her away. Nothing wrong here, Mr. Okkotsu.” the guide stutters away, intimidated by Yuta.

Yuta looks the same, yet noticeably different at the same time. His once doe-like, innocent eyes now are half-lidded and uninterested, hiding secrets and carrying unknown burdens. He barely wants to smile, his lips stuck in a straight, firm line unwilling to curve. His jaw seems a bit more defined now, seemingly as he appears to look slightly manlier, and a lot more unapproachable. He has noticeable purple shadows under his eyes now and an eerily heavy aura.

“Do you not know how to behave with a woman? Leave her at once.” He says, grimly. When the guide finally lets me go and scurries away, Yuta finally looks at me, “Please, take—” but before he can finish his sentences, his lips freeze and his pupils dilate. You yourself let out a small gasp before his name exits your mouth in the sweetest voice possible. “Yuta…”

Yuta stands still for a while, his gaze not moving from you. You see his lips quiver and the muscles in his jaw ripple as he wordlessly takes his leave, moving quickly through the people, running away from you.

Not wanting to let him go to the race like that, you follow him. You follow him into a unisex restroom, closing and locking the door behind you as you find him fidgeting with the tap and the paper towels, unwilling to look at you or the mirror. The dim, dirty lights of the place only highlight his somber features as you frown at him.

You stand next to him until he is forced to acknowledge your presence.

“H-how have you been, Y/N?” he asks, in a shaky voice.

Good? Better? I haven’t moved on from you? What do you tell him?

The stench and claustrophobia of this restroom doesn’t help the situation at all.

“I’ve been doing better, Yuta. How have you been?” you ask, tenderly. He still won’t look at you.

“I’ve been the same really. Just working hard. Racing. Boring stuff. Haha.” He laughs nervously, licking his lips, keeping his eyes down.

“Yuta, if you don’t want to see me right now or talk to me. Tell me.” You say, with concern. “I don’t want to spoil your mood before the race.”

“Not at all. A racer can’t let things like this affect him.” He laughs nervously yet again. “How come you’re here? Gojo invite you or something?”

“He did. That’s besides the point.” You say, getting back to business. “I wanted to meet you to tell you something.”

“Why? Do you want to get laid again? Did Megumi cheat on you again?” He interrupts. “We have all the time after the race, why don’t you excuse me now.” He furrows his brows.

“No, that’s not—”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to say it like that.” He confesses. “But, Y/N. I don’t know if I can actually handle seeing your face right now. Because you haunt my waking hours and my nightmares every single day.” He continues.

“I never stopped thinking about how you left me that day. I was begging you to stop. You don’t love me, right? Heck, I haven’t even been able to look at a woman after that. Then let me suffer in peace.” Hearing all of that breaks your heart but you have no right to console him.

“Is there anything left to say Y/N? Do you want to tell me how much you don’t love me?” he asks bitterly now, finally looking into your eyes. Dark blue, not somber anymore but teary. Vulnerable. Evidently, very much in love with you, after all those months apart.

“Well then, the race is going to start soon, I should —”

Before he can finish though, you grab his suit and pull him down to kiss him. Euphoria spreads through your mind and body, a soothing calm coating your entire being as you feel his lips mingle with yours. He doesn’t resist — he too is a victim of his own yearning.

The two of you grab a hold of each other's hair and deepen the kiss. You entirely mess up his perfectly combed hair until it falls to the front of his forehead, brushing against yours. The two of you don’t even surface for a breath of air and keep kissing until it’s physically impossible and you have to separate — your face red, and your lips swollen. Both of you panting.

You swipe your thumb on his plump bottom lip, staring at it as you speak to him.

“Did you get your answer now?”

Yuta seems to be in a daze though, completely bowled over by your bold attempt.

“Listen carefully, Yuta.” you tell him. “The raging maniac I’ve been seeing on the track this past year. That’s not you. You have to play it smart and smooth today, do you understand?”

“Y/N…” he chants, running a hand through your hair and pinching your cheek. “If I don’t drive dominantly, I won’t win.”

“Okkotsu Yuta, if you have ever loved me, promise me you will not drive rashly today.” you tell him clearly, with an air of finality in your voice and he stares at you.

“I’ll do what’s best at that moment, Y/N. Don’t worry about it.”

“No! You have to promise me!”

“Okay, okay!” he says, giving up, separating from you and opening up the restroom door. “Race starts in a few. I’m going for real now.”

“Please, Yuta. Be careful.” you repeat, tearing up now. “There’s so much I want to say to you later.”

“I’ll see you later with the trophy in hand, that’s a promise.” Yuta states. And for the first time in what seems like an eternity, he brings out the smile he always flashed earlier. Your Yuta’s heart-warming, genuine smile.

The two of you leave the restroom at last and he would not let you go back to the Ferrari zone. Instead, making you sit with his black and silver army of curious Mercedes folk. They all look at you like you’re some kind of shiny toy and it makes you blush and hide behind Yuta.

“Take care of her. Don’t scare her, I will know.” Yuta warns them, taking your hand and leading you to one of the fancy pavilions reserved for staff and their guests. They hand you a pair of headphones and make you sit with some of the women who happen to be the WAGs of the crew and the drivers. You have the pleasure of joining Inumaki’s hot as hell girlfriend who is wearing a silken top and an elegant black skirt along with a heart-winning smile. And there you are with your Ferrari sweater.

[Music recommendation, damn even the color of the audio track goes with the story:]

Yuta runs off quickly after that to hop into his car and have a final conversation with his engineers before he and his teammate Inumaki are called off to join the starting order for the formation lap. From your vantage point, you watch as the sleek, powerful machines take their positions. The sight of Yuta in his Mercedes, with his intense focus and determination, fills you with a mixture of pride and anxiety.

As the formation lap begins, the cars glide gracefully around the track, their engines producing a symphony of power. The tension builds with every passing moment, the crowd’s anticipation reaching a fever pitch. You grip the edge of your seat, your heart racing in sync with the machines on the track. After a few minutes, the cars begin lining up in order again and the crowd goes silent — with Geto and Yuta making up the front line and an eager Mahito right on Yuta’s tail.

The race is about to begin, and you can only hope that Yuta will deliver on his promise. You press your palms together in anticipation and pray for Yuta to be safe.

They show the faces of all twenty drivers in a promotional video running over on the giant screens. You spot Yuta just as they announce the beginning of the race.

The five red lights come to life one by one with a beep and at the next beat of your heart, they go off, the car engines revving to life and the crowd going ballistic with cheer as Geto crosses Yuta and Yuta rapidly shifts to the side, going tire to tire with Geto’s Red Bull, sliding past him by a minimal margin and taking lead of the race as the fans erupt into cheer. You find yourself standing up and pumping your fists in the air.

The cars follow the leading duo, creeping along behind them in quick succession.

“That's Good there Yuta. Keep pushing." You here a robotic voice in your ears. Probably Yuta's engineer.

“Copy that." You hear Yuta's voice and blush. Inumaki’s girlfriend eyeing you and grinning.

As the first lap comes to an end and continues into the second lap, there's a buzz of conversation going on in the room. The engineers and staff moving around, barking at each other and some glued to the gigantic screens.

“The car's doing well. Good job guys." Yuta sends out a message.

You overhear two of the engineers discussing among themselves that Yuta was being chattier and nicer than usual today and you smirk internally.

As the second lap progresses through the team witnesses a strange change in positions. Geto slows down ever so slightly to let Mahito’s car pass. There is a bit of commotion going on inside the room, curious discussions about Red Bull’s strategy taking place but you are aware what's going to happen as Mahito's slithering car inches closer to Yuta and activates its DRS.

“No!" You yell out and the entire room turns to look at you.

“Yuta! He needs to get out of the way! He-"

But before the engineers can register what you're saying or what's happening on the track you see Mahito’s car touch Yuta's from the behind, Yuta intercepting this and narrowly avoiding being tossed in the air. He does get pushed off the track though and into the grass until he gains control and slowly makes his way back onto the track. Now in 7th place.

You are the only one who breathes a sigh of relief because you're the only one who is aware of what went down behind the scenes. There is an uproar in the room now, a lot of them cursing out Mahito and Red Bull to no end.

One of them finds the time to connect with Yuta on the Radio and ask if he's fine.

“Yeah, I'm alright guys." He reassures everyone. “Pushed far behind though. That seemed pretty deliberate. Put that up for review please." His voice breaks through the radio.

The crowd collectively gasps as they now see Geto swap places with Mahito and regain his position as the leader.

“Yuta. We can salvage this. Stick to the first strategy. Try to be aggressive.” The engineer instructs Yuta.

"Copy, that. At least until I gain P3" Yuta replies, making the engineers exchange panicked glances.

You see Yuta in action on the big screen and now understand what people have been saying about his feral driving. You witness as he pushes the car to its absolute limit, overtaking two cars — an Aston Martin and Itadori’s Ferrari in one go at one of the fast corners, leaving them startled in his dirty air. He's now racing at P4, after Inumaki lets him pass as per team orders.

“Oh my god, he's up with Gojo now." Inumaki's girlfriend squeaks, holding your hand with an iron grip,making you break out into a sweat two.

Gojo’s Ferrari and Yuta’s Merc go head on, battling each other, getting into each other's way. Gojo is as unpredictable as Yuta is ferocious.

The two of them swap positions a good four times until Yuta is able to zoom past him in a dramatic show, in one of the wider corners, right into the straights.

He's now P3. And the only competition he has in front of him are the red bulls.

“You're in podium position right now. Second place is ensured. Don't do anything stupid." The engineer warns Yuta.

The room doesn't hear back from Yuta for a while until all of you witness his aggressive drive turn to a more smooth one for the first time in over a year.

"Copy that. I've a promise to keep.”

The crowd, the crew, the engineers, the photographers, the journalists, the WAGs and you. All of you watch as time stills, Yuta moving like a stream of water, smooth and direct, inching close to Mahito's car.

They enter the DRS zone and the Mercedes’ flap flips open to let in the air stream.

Yuta slips to the side staying just a tad bit behind Mahito whose intent now seems to push Yuta off the track for good if he attacks.

Mahito who was expecting and anticipating Yuta to fault, for him to aggressively move past keeps waiting as they keep driving on the straight with DRS on.

It isn't until Mahito keeps straight, too drowned in his confusion to notice Yuta speed up right as they turned into a corner.

Without warning, right as the DRS zone ends Yuta hits the throttle and speeds out of Mahito's reach, making the crowd go crazy.

In that moment, everyone on the track and in the stands is rooting for Yuta. They are waiting with bated breathes as the last lap approaches and Yuta's car creeps closer to Geto’s Red Bull.

The engineers have nothing to say now, they too, watch on in awe.

Your hands clasp over your mouth, as you watch without blinking as they enter the last corners.

Call it luck.

Talent and hard work can take you very far. But the harder you work, the better your luck is. And in those final seconds, Yuta happened to have newer, more seasoned tyres compared to Geto's more worn ones owing to an earlier pit stop. Maybe your prayers worked.

And that was it for Red Bull.

Yuta pushes the car and rockets out of the corner, zooming towards the finish line as the checkered flag waves the declaration of victory for him. Leaving the red bull, the ferraris, everyone who ever doubted him in the dust of the track.

He pumps his fists out of the cockpit, screaming profanity into the radio.

“FUCKKK YESSSS!!!!"

“LET'S GO BABY!!! LET'S FUCKING GOOO AAAAHHHH!!!"

He pulls his car aside while the others pass and returns to the track to do some celebratory donuts with his car, the steam from his tyres enveloping the car.

It's like a festival in Mercedes' operations room. Everyone is hugging each, patting each others’ back, crying. Inumaki's girlfriend is mumbling to herself, still holding your hand.

And you?

You are in utter shock. Absolutely unable to form sentences.

One of the engineers has to shake you awake.

“Okkotsu has done it! He's done it! Not just that, Inumaki came in third! We've won both titles! Mercedes has done it!"

"H-huh?” You choke out, tearing up.

"Don't you want to see him? He's coming in right now!” the team exclaims, crowding at the door, aching to get out and meet their winner.

Out in the paddock, the teams have arrived to welcome their hard-fought warriors. The various colors stand together in unison waiting beside the tracks, separated from the drivers by the chain fence.

You see a line of women waiting by, standing out from the teams thanks to their eye-catching, elegant attires. They looked like supermodels — tall, magazine cover beauties. They must be the WAGs.

You suddenly feel very conscious about your sweater and jeans. Just a year ago, you too had the most exquisite outfit possible, completely ruined by Yuta on his Lambo.

The drivers show up one by one as the paddock welcomes them. There is an impressive cheer for the arrival of Gojo Satoru, P4. He winks at the WAGs as they appear totally distracted from their own racer boyfriends but he doesn't stay for long.

He meets up midway with a dejected looking Geto and takes him away to some place you can't quite see.

Looks like they want to have a talk.

If the cheer for Gojo was something, it's nothing compared to the deafening roar championship winner, Yuta receives as soon as his Mercedes pulls in.

He jumps out of the car, removes his gloves, helmet and fireproof and comes running straight towards your lot, jumping onto them as they screech, hoisting him up in the air and ferally rubbing his hair.

“Well done, boy!"

“Well done!" They chant.

When they finally let go and you're able to see Yuta. You don't see any sign of the depressed ghost of a man you saw earlier. This was the Yuta you knew and loved. Happy, shining bright, eyes full of life.

He wipes the sweat of his forehead as he approaches you and grabs you by the waist to pick you up and twirl you around.

He presses his sweaty nose to yours, his dark eyes twinkling.

“We did it, baby. I kept my promise." He laughs between words.

"Now then,” he smiles at me giddily, walking away from the team with me still in his arms.

"What did you want to say to me earlier?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Telling you just how much I love you will take more than a few minutes, Yuta." You kiss his nose.

“More than a few hot nights." You kiss his forehead.

“And more than a lifetime." You say, finally leaving a kiss on his lips.

“I love you, Okkotsu Yuta."

You press your foreheads together, as a quick paparazzo clicks a picture of the two of you.

a/n: thank you everyone for reading! I was able to power through the chapters and put everything out quickly. Hope you guys enjoyed the tale of Racer Yuta!

----> BONUS<----

You hold the headboard of your bed for support as you grin down at a very engaged Yuta, lost in your juicy womanhood, holding onto your thighs for dear life as you sit on his face. His enthusiasm as he suckles and bites your sensitive zones drives you crazy and you come all over his face for what seems the tenth time in the past three days. He just refuses to let you go whenever he visits you in your city. You have to nearly always put in an extra sick day to cater to his and your needs. The two of you look out onto a bustling city from your high-rise condo. You wonder how many people know that a world-class, champion racing driver is eating your brains out right above their heads. The thought makes you giggle shamelessly.

"Yuta, stop, already." you urge him, laughing between words, pulling at his hair to get him to stop.

"Nope, I can't." he admits, looking up at you, with lust filled eyes. "I only get so many days with you. Need to make the most of this time."

You roll your eyes at him, getting off of him, making him whine loudly.

"Patience, lover-boy." you tease him, turning around to sit on his abs. His abdominal muscles are so well defined that even merely sitting on them sends chills up your wussy.

"Time to give my mini some love." you say, smiling at the bulge forming in Yuta's sweatpants. You uncover it to see his valiant dick stand tall, after being ignored by both you and Yuta for so long.

"It got prettier from last time." you pout at it, examining it as you stroke it with love. It pulls out the prettiest groans out of Yuta.

"Y/N, you saw it yesterday." he complains. "When you said you wanted to bounce on it."

"Well, Yuta. You can't just eat me out for all of eternity. Your dick has needs." you shut him up and take him in your mouth, savoring its thickness. It's just like the first time you ever took him in your mouth. You run and tongue up and down his length as Yuta grabs a hold of your ass, holding on till he's moaning.

You lick at his slit, playing around with the pre-cum he's leaking. His cock is so violent, it beats around inside of your mouth, and you silence it by pushing it to the back of your throat, where it sits snugly.

Your nose pushes into Yuta's balls as you let your throat do the rest of the work and soon enough, Yuta is coming inside your mouth with a monstrous groan, leaving you with plenty of fluid to play around with.

When you finally pull off, mouth full of cum, you see that there is still some life in his dick. You turn out to face him and now sit on his dick, grinding back and forth till he becomes hard again.

Your cheeks stay swollen with loads of his cum and Yuta stares at your face in disbelief.

"You really my cum don't you?"

and you nod fervently.

"Swallow it."

You shake your head.

"God, Y/N.." he closes his eyes, leaning back and letting you ride him, feeling his dick prod at your insides, its outline clearly showing through your abdomen.

"Ah..." he moans out, finding a rhythm he likes and the two of you roll your hips together. You want to moan out so bad but your cum sits in your mouth, marinating. You want to make a mess out of it on Yuta's abs and lick it all off.

How you've waited so long to do so many things to Yuta.

Only, your moment gets interrupted by a rogue phone call. From your phone.

"Buh, ish ma day ff!" you say, your mouth full and unable to speak coherently.

Yuta picks up the call and sticks it between his shoulder and an ear, while grabbing and controlling your hips with both his hands. His messy black hair falls on his sweaty forehead and his lashes brush his cheeks as he talks to the caller in his fucked out voice.

"Who's this?"

"Y/N, oh, she's busy."

"Are we fucking? Seriously, Satoru? Nunya business!"

Gojo Satoru!? The shock at his question makes you accidentally swallow the cum and you almost cry out.

"Uh-huh. Cool, bye." Yuta says, eyeing your reaction and closing his eyes.

"Oh no, I swallowed it!" you complain to Yuta and he's barely listening, chasing his orgasm. Soon enough, the grip on your waist tightens and he's coming inside of you this time. His neck stretching back and his adam's apple bobbing in his wide throat.

When he finally regains his composure, he looks back at you to reply.

"You swallowed. Finally! Good job!"

"Yuta!" you pout.

"Aw, baby..." Yuta teases you. "There's always room to do more." he sees, pinching your perky nipples.

"Your interns ask about you, Gojo told me. He takes them to races, VIP passes whenever he's free. He's made them into Ferrari fans, alas." Yuta tells you.

"Ahem. They were promoted to full time employees after the feedback from the Summit." you correct him. "Plus, they know I'm fucking you every chance I get. That's what I'm up to." you say, sliding off his dick and falling into his arms, allowing him to continue playing with your tender breasts.

"You're all packed up for this weekend's Monaco Grand Prix, right? We leave in two days." Yuta reminds you, biting your lower lip and bursting into a smile.

"Of course, I'm looking forward to it." you tell him. The two of you stare at each other, drowning in each other's passion until you realize something.

"Oops almost forgot. I love you, Yuta."

Yuta blushes pink when he hears it. "You say that every ten minutes."

"Isn't that what I told you..." you remind him.

"I'm saying it every day." You place a tender kiss on his lips.

"Forever."

137 notes · View notes

licorice-tea · 7 months

Text

You Feel Right; Stay A Sec

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x reader

Content: pining, yearning, wanting, and needing <3 no smut just fluff! kissing and smooching, just one mention of “going further”! reader is a heart pirate and likes reading :)

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: it’s been a while since i wrote something for my man (Law <3) so i had fun with this😇☝️inspired by lyrics from the song “Hostage” by billie eilish… i love writing based on songs, it’s probably bc i have music playing 24/7 in either my headphones or on a speaker, and i just love music! so it’s easy to get inspo or create scenarios while listening to it, yk? anyway, hope you enjoy! <3

I wanna be alone

Danger around every corner, piles of work, tasks demanding his attention, and crew members in need of their captain’s opinion are all sources of constant stress for one Trafalgar Law. It’s not that he doesn’t love being a surgeon; it’s his passion, nor his crew; they’re the closest thing he has to a family now. It's just that his battery in all aspects- social, mental, physical- is constantly drained.

The only things keeping him going are steaming cups of black coffee and the rare moments of quiet before he passes out on top of his comforter. And, no matter what form the momentarily relief from life takes, it most always comes when Law is alone. He prefers it that way, anyway.

Alone with you, does that make sense?

He prefers being alone, really. Which is why nothing about you makes sense. Right off the bat, Law has felt differently around you than others. He made an effort not to show that difference in opinion no matter how strong it came to be at times.

Times like now, where sleep eludes Law despite how damn tired he is. For whatever reason, all he wants is to hold something- no, someone… you. Law wants to hold you. Or maybe you could hold him, who cares about the specifics?

Law flips on his stomach and groans into his pillow. This is new territory. He’s never wanted someone the way he wants you. A partner to hold close on nights like these, or to simply be alone with.

I wanna steal your soul

He has considered, on multiple occasions, telling you how he feels. But Law would never actually do such a thing. It would be a complicated and messy affair, surely, thanks to your positions. (His as your captain and yours as his subordinate.) And he wouldn’t want you to feel like you had to accept his confession, either.

Still… he wishes you were his, in every way a person could give themself to another.

And hide you in my treasure chest

At least you’re on his crew. You’re always nearby, should he need you, which he often does. Sometimes, Law likes to call you into his office for a made up reason. “Y/n-ya,” he’d say, “give me a rundown on tomorrow’s conditions at sea.” Though you’re not the navigator of the ship, you still know plenty about seafaring, so you’d comply. Then he’d find some other trivial matter to discuss, or offer you a new book so you could later exchange thoughts on it. Just something- anything to keep you around as long as possible. It’s so much more peaceful with you.

I don't know what to do

But how to make your role in his life a more permanent one? Law hasn’t a clue. Tonight, like many others, you sit on a couch in Law’s office. Neither of you speak, but the atmosphere is calm and comfortable.

Or it should be. Law discreetly looks your way every few minutes, then every few seconds. His eyes follow the way yours scan side to side over a page of your book. From the lines of your jaw and neck, to stray hairs falling over the curve of your cheek.

The usually undetectable tension seems to be coming to a point tonight, and Law doesn’t know how to resolve it. But he wants to, almost as much as he wants you.

So, for once in his life, he moves without much planning. Law rises from his desk and crosses the room to sit beside you. He (stiffly) puts his arm around the back of the couch. Naturally, you give him a perplexed look- it’s not like Law to suddenly reach out like this, physically or otherwise.

“Good book?”

“Yeah, thanks for recommending it.”

“For sure.”

“…Is that all?”

He nods, then pulls his hat lower over his eyes. Silently, he makes a plan to abort this failed mission.

Luckily, you stop him and take the initiative.

To do with your kiss on my neck

Law lifts his arm back off the couch and over you. But, you gently grab his wrist before he can go any farther. “Law, is there… You know you can tell me anything, right?”

Again, he simply nods. A moment of silently staring into each other’s eyes passes, and he leans forwards extremely hesitantly. Your hand moves from his wrist and tentatively rests on his shoulder. Still, Law doesn’t break eye contact (for once in his life), continuing to lean forward at a painfully slow pace. So you allow your hand to travel up to the side of his neck.

“You can kiss me.”

He nods again slightly, “I know. I- I will.”

I don't know what feels true

At long last, Law places a featherlight kiss on the corner of your lips. It’s an unsure, awkward action, but welcome nonetheless. His lips linger on yours, not quite aligned for a moment. Despite your breath being held, you allow your eyes to close and savor the feeling. You want more than this chaste kiss from him, of course, but you’d take your time with it. Law isn’t the kind of man you’d want to have a touch and go experience with. No, he’s the kind the one that you want to savor. The one that you want to take your relationship slow and steady with as he wants, and as a result get to spend even longer in his company.

When he pulls away, you can’t help but smile. Law’s parted lips close into the gentle curve of a smile as well, his usual smirk appearing much more bashful. The two of you lean back into each other. Your noses are nudged and warm breaths mingle before your lips can meet again.

But this feels right, so stay a sec

Law realizes he’s never done this before; kissing. But now, he’s hooked. He still doesn’t really know if he’s doing it correctly; if you’re enjoying the experience as much as he is, but it feels good. Therefore, he must be doing something right. Plus you only pull away from him to take breaths before immediately returning your lips to where they belong (on his), which confirms his hopes.

What started as a sweet and slow kiss ends up becoming a much hotter make out session. Months of pent up attraction and feelings for each other spill over, out of your mouth into his (and vice versa.) He’s the first to swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and get you to open up, and proceeds to groan into your mouth in a way that’s surprisingly communicative of how strongly he feels. It gets to the point where, besides your hands roaming over each others backs, you feel that your saliva must also be permanently entangled.

But all good things must come to an end. You pull back completely so that you and Law are properly facing each other, rather than within kissing range. “Law, I… We should talk about this. Before we go any farther.”

His face heats up at the implication; he hadn’t even thought that far ahead, too lost in your sweet taste, warm skin, and soft lips to do so. He nods and just murmurs, “Okay, let’s just keep doing this.”

You agree and kiss him without another word.

Yeah, you feel right, so stay a sec

When you do both finally wind down, and are left as nothing but half-sleep puddles in each other’s arms, Law murmurs something unintelligible into your hair.

Silence passes, though you can practically hear the gears in Law’s head turning. Finally, he speaks his mind. “Don’t go.”

A smile graces your features. How pleasantly surprising it is to have your captain- possibly the most closed off man you’d ever known- asking for you to stay. Of course, you hum in negation. “Wasn’t planning on it.”

His arms seem to tighten around you- though whether it’s reflexively or to keep you close, you’re unsure. “Good.” Then, Law murmurs something unintelligible against you.

“Hm?” He can feel the vibration on your lips against the side of his face more than he can hear it. That’s how closely you’re pressed into him.

Law clears his throat. “You feel right.”

“So do you.”

#fanfic #one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #x reader #law x reader #law x you #law fluff #law x y/n #trafalgar d law x reader #trafalgar law

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dekariosclan · 7 days

Note

I really love your version of Tav's acquaintance with Marina. And is it possible to hear about their relationship when Tav is already married to Gale (both for illithid and ordinary Tav)

Ps: personally, I have an idea that if Gale goes to visit his mother without Tav, since he can't, then Gale says that he will discuss his research with his mother. And as a result, he tells his mother for several hours about how wonderful Tav is and how Gail is now happily married. Marina listens to everything and nods approvingly)

Thank you more for your hard work💜

Oh, thank you for the lovely ask!!

Since we never get the pleasure of meeting Morena in-person, here’s what we know about her from Gale and Tara’s discussions:

Loves Gale and above all wants him to be happy

Doesn’t seem to care much about ‘social traditions’ or what people think—for example, doesn’t care that Gale chose to drop ‘Dekarios’ and change to using ‘Gale of Waterdeep’

Delighted with Gale being married

An excellent cook and makes a delicious batch of Hundur sauce

Outspoken/does not tolerate nonsense (her personality ‘packs quite a wallop’ per Gale)

Takes things in stride/not easily shocked (her son previously being with a Goddess, the fact that regularly she has Withers join her and Tara for tea, etc.)

Loves Waterdeep

Is adored by Tara, thus proving that she has a good heart just like Gale

Given all of that, I’m confident that Morena is a fabulous mother-in-law, whether Tav is sporting tentacles or not.

Ordinary Tav

The fact that Morena can see how happy Gale is means that Tav will never be anything but loved. You think Gale adores his spouse? Morena is a VERY close second, especially when it comes to singing Tav’s praises. Sometimes to such an extreme that even Gale himself finds it excessive! Especially regarding his past relationship with Mystra and how much better Tav is for Gale.

It is my personal belief that Morena was never comfortable with Gale’s pairing with Mystra, much less with it turning romantic, but that she tolerated it and refrained from commenting because by that time her son was an adult and claimed he was happy.

Now, though? Her laced gloves are off.

A typical conversation during one of their visits would be as follows:

Morena: *squeezing Tav’s hand* My son is looking so contented and happy, my dear! I cannot tell you how much it warms my heart to see it!

Gale: *smiling adoringly at Tav* Guilty, as charged.

Morena: There’s such a change in him from his past relationship with that utter—well—I shan’t say the word in polite company.

Gale: *looking slightly alarmed* Mother—

Morena: Of course, that temptress used all of her wiles to entrap him. Physical, incorporeal, magical. But I must say, Goddess or not, I always found her to be rather tacky! I don’t understand why my son was filled with such base desires for her!

Gale: MOTHER—

Morena: *patting Tav’s hand* Oh, but worry not my dear! the way Gale looks at you is BEYOND how he ever looked at her. Do you remember the last time you visited, and you helped carry several boxes of his books from the attic? All that exertion and physical work! Why, by the end of it he looked like he wanted to eat you for sup—

Gale: I BEG THAT WE CHANGE THE SUBJECT

You get the idea.

Morena treats Tav with all the kindness in the world, and does it happily; she will never forget that Tav quite literally saved her son’s life. She enjoys making Tav’s favorite dishes whenever they visit (which Gale proudly informs her of). And she especially enjoys telling Tav stories of Gale’s adventures and magical hijinks as a child, seeing how much Tav adores hearing about them (and sometimes, depending on the story, much to Gale’s chagrin.)

Illithid Tav

This one is easy: Morena’s relationship with Illithid Tav is exactly the same as described above for Ordinary Tav, no difference at all, save for ONE area that I shall describe shortly. Morena is just like Gale, in that her treatment of Illithid Tav is no different than if Tav were not sporting tentacles. All that matters is that her son is loved and happy. If it’s an Ilithid that can give her son the love he deserves, something that he has not been given from any of his past mortal lovers OR his past immortal lover, then so be it.

The only difference is that Morena is MUCH more protective of her Illithid family member and much more sensitive to what others think, if only to be ready to give them a piece of her mind if they dare to insult Tav in any way.

And if Gale AND Morena are in the vicinity when their beloved Tav is insulted?

Quite the spectacle. Numerous “How DARE you’s,” “What an INEXCUSABLE lack of decorum,” “I have half a mind to conjure a fireball and bake some manners into you,” (<- Gale only), etc.

Finally, if and when there are occasions where Gale visits Morena alone and Tav is unable to join, you are absolutely correct in that the discourse will inevitably end up being praise of Tav. And even Tara will throw in a compliment or two, given that Tav has taken to bringing her a treat of Beholder jerky or pigeon meat whenever they visit 💜

#gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #baldur's gate 3 #gale x tav #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #galemancer #answered ask #tara the tressym #morena dekarios

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patito-oward · 1 year

Text

No I in Team

masterlist

WC: 11.7k

Summary: You’ve just started a new job as a social media manager at Arrow McLaren, and get off onto the wrong foot with your insanely attractive new coworker.

Tags: angst, fluff, smut, 18+

February

This is what you’ve been working for since you were 13. Your first trip to the Indianapolis Motor Speedway was love at first sight. Since then, you’ve revolved your life around racing and getting to every race possible.

You studied marketing and public relations in high school and have now gotten your dream job working as the social media manager at Arrow McLaren.

You’re starting your first day by joining a full team meeting at the team’s headquarters. Except walking around the large building, you can’t seem to find the intended conference room. You’re looking down at your phone, trying to decipher the directions in your email, when you collide with a solid body.

Before you even look up, an apology is spilling out of your mouth. "Oh my god, I am so sorry-" You cut yourself off when you realize who you’ve just bumped into.

"Just watch where you’re going."

"I’m so, so sorry, it’s just my first day and I have no idea where I’m going, the email I got said conference room on the second floor, but this place is huge and I’m all turned around." You only stop to breathe, realizing you’ve run into not only an indycar legend but a now-coworker, Pato O’ward, and have completely embarrassed yourself.

"I’m headed there; follow me." He was very straight to the point, but you nodded and thanked him.

When you walked into the conference room, you found a few faces of people you recognized from interviews and more you recognized from watching the sport. The meeting began, and plans for the new season were being discussed. You were introduced to the group, but mainly to Pato, Alex, and Felix as the new head of the team’s social media.

Everyone was very welcoming, making jokes with you and telling you not to believe Rossi when he acts annoyed whenever you make him do anything. Overall, you had a really great morning.

After the full team meeting, you were set to have a meeting with just the drivers, owners, and a PR team. You had a 30-minute break between the meetings where you overheard a conversation between Pato and Felix.

"Y/N seems cool." Felix's saying your name caught your attention. "It’ll be nice to have someone young running the social media make sure it stays relevant."

"I guess, yeah." Pato seemed unsure and dismissive.

"You’re not sure?"

"She already seems like a walking disaster. This morning she was staring at her phone and ran straight into me, and then she told me she couldn’t find the conference room, and it was right there. And she talks so much." He puts emphasis on the so much, and you take a little offense; you were just trying to be nice. Felix doubles over laughing. "What is so funny?"

"Oh, nothing, mate," He can barely get his words out because he’s laughing so hard. "you just described yourself, that’s all."

"Oh, come on! I am not that bad!"

You’re glad Felix is defending you and seems to like you, but still, you wish Pato felt the same. It’ll make this job really awkward if he’s never cooperative with what you need to do.

Your second meeting of the day goes okay. The team wants you to share a little of what you have planned for the socials and discuss how these things are usually done. Everyone on the team seems really receptive to your ideas, and you’ve seemed to charm the room. You’re joking with the team owners about making the drivers do trends, and Felix and Alex are laughing along with you. Pato doesn’t talk much unless spoken to, and you just wish this day had started out better.

After your meeting, you were free to leave for the day. As you’re walking towards the elevator, Felix calls out to you. When you turn to face him, he begins to speak. "I’m sorry about Pato; I don’t know what’s up with him, but he’s definitely acting off today. Just give him time and he’ll warm up to you; you’re doing a great job already." You smile at him and thank him genuinely.

You really hope he’s right and Pato’s just having an off day. You start working with the team immediately, so whatever has him upset, he’s hopefully over by the morning.

March

Unfortunately, that is not the case; a whole month has gone by, and Pato still hasn’t warmed up to you. He’s in no way rude; he’ll do whatever you ask him to, and he’s always polite, but he’s never been personable with you.

You watch him during interviews and photo shoots, and he makes everyone in the room laugh. He’s kind to everyone, introduces himself to everyone in the room, and immediately becomes the center of it. You can see that he’s an entertainer at heart, and you wish he’d be like that with you. Even in more personal and private settings, he’s still very outgoing.

He’s so loud talking to Fro and Alex that you can often hear him through walls. He has a great relationship with his pit crew; he is so personable with them whenever he’s around them and will ask them about their wives and kids. If you’re ever in a room alone, it’s always very silent, and he answers you in the shortest way possible. Mostly, he’ll make up an excuse to leave the room or call someone in.

All of this keeps making you wonder where you’re going wrong. Rossi and Felix both seem to really like you; you’ve started getting along really well with both of their partners, and occasionally they will invite you to drinks after a day at work. They even tried to talk you into watching the Firestone GP with them in Rossi’s motorhome despite your having to work.

You’ve become friends with most of the team, and you’ve become really great friends with an engineer on the team, she’s been teaching you a lot about the makeup of the car during your downtimes. This job was so perfect, you just wish you knew why a certain driver seemed to have it out for you.

The Firestone GP that kicks off the season was a small letdown for the team. Rosenqvist had the best finishing position in 8th place, Rossi in 10th, and Pato in 13th. The team has been working so hard and really thought that they’d start the season off much better than this.

April

The team has been working a month straight at improving speed for Texas, and they’ve found some. During Friday practice, Rossi and Rosenqvist showed a lot of speed and were 3rd and 5th, but O’ward was still 9th, leaving the team to wonder where they were going wrong with him.

While walking by his garage, you notice a few engineers, including your new friend, and Pato watching his in-car footage from practice. As you watch, you notice what’s going on. You watch for another lap to make sure. "You’re going into the turns too fast, breaking heavy late, and by the time you’ve regained control of the car, you’ve ended up losing time." It feels like every eye in the speedway turns to you in that moment, like you could hear a pin drop in the garage.

Before anyone says anything, they simply rewind the tape and watch a lap. You watch everyone watch the screen as he goes into a turn, starts losing the car, then breaks heavy while getting it back under control. It happens three more times, and a mechanic speaks. "Holy shit, she’s right."

Pato takes the car back out, and in the few laps he’s able to do, his speed has skyrocketed. The speed he has now would have him at P1.

When he gets back into his pit, he’s celebrating with the team all around, and then he approaches you. "Thank you so much! You’ve saved my ass for this race."

"It’s no problem, really.”

Pato qualified for P3 the next day and finished the race 2nd. It's been a way better weekend for the team, and everyone is buzzing with energy.

After the race, Alex and Fro ask you to join them for celebratory drinks at a bar near the speedway. You join them and their partners, as well as Pato, and you all have a great time. You even got some content for Instagram and TikTok.

Everyone’s feeling pretty good and has a decent amount of liquor in their systems when Pato approaches you. "I owe you an apology."

You really were confused by this. "What?"

"Over the way I’ve been acting, I don’t even know why; I think I was just having a bad day and then got too stubborn to admit that I was wrong."

"Oh, it’s okay, water under the bridge." You try to wave it off, as this conversation feels very awkward.

No, I’ve been a total jerk for no real reason, and you haven’t deserved it, so I really am sorry. Can I please just have another chance at introducing myself?"

"You never introduced yourself in the first place."

He looks sheepish. "Another thing I’m sorry for." Holding out his right hand, he says, "Hi, I’m Pato. I’m glad you’re joining the team. I’m sure you’ll make a great addition."

"Hi, Pato, I’m YN; it’s so nice to finally meet you." When you shake his hand, you can see him soften a bit and his demeanor change, and you really hope that everything from the last two months really is water under the bridge in the morning.

You had a week and a half break after that, where you were only required to make a few posts and had one meeting. When you returned to work at Long Beach, Pato brought you coffee. You were shocked, but glad that fences really were mended.

April also held the first practice for the 500, which showed great promise for the team.

May

You and Pato have turned into fast friends. It turns out the two of you really are a lot alike. As you’ve entered the most important month for the sport, you cannot be more glad that things have been smoothed over.

Now that you’re close with all three of the boys, you’re often drugged into content whenever you’re filming it. The boys will often start arguing and look to you to settle it, or when you make them do a challenge, you have to clarify the winner.

Pato will even ask you to follow certain trends he’s seen floating around, and whenever you reveal that in a caption, his fans go crazy.

You don’t just begin to get closer professionally, though; when Pato finds out you’re a fan of the Marvel movies, he gets very excited to have someone on the team to watch them with. During the first week of May, he invited you to come watch Iron Man with him after a day of work, and you accepted.

When you first walked into his motorhome, it was definitely a little awkward; you didn’t really know where to sit or what to do with yourself. He quickly eased the tension, though. "Sit on the seat with the blue blanket; I dug it out in case you’d want it. I always keep it cold in here because I like to snuggle under a blankie."

You laughed at him. "Blankie? Are you five?"

"No! I’m just a sensitive guy who likes to be warm."

"Thank you for getting a blankie out for me too."

"Do you want anything to drink? I have water, electrolit, topo chico.."

"You realize we’re in private; you don’t have to endorse your sponsors to me."

He gives you a dirty look from the fridge and says, "You are so funny. I’ll have you know that I just don’t keep the fridge very stocked, and my sponsors provided all this."

"I’ll take a topo chico, please." You give him a sickly sweet smile from your place curled up on the loveseat, and he brings one for you and one for himself. You place both in the cup holders between you. "Thank you, sir."

"Don’t call me that, it's weird. I’m going to order food, did you eat or should I order you something too?"

"You don’t have to order me something; I’ll order myself food."

"Don’t be silly; I invited you; I’ll pay for takeout." He opens Grub Hub and starts scrolling through options. "You know what the worst part about frequent travel is?" You hum out a response. "I never know what food is good. I have no clue where to order from."

Oh, I know. My family and I used to always get food from this Chinese place on race weekend. Here it is." You pulled up the place on your phone, and you had to call to place the delivery order.

Once the order was placed, you both settled into your spots on the sofa and started the movie. Before long, the food has arrived, and you’re both digging in as the movie plays. "This is the best Chinese I’ve ever had. You definitely saved the day!"

"I don’t know about the whole day; maybe just dinner. Besides, I definitely didn’t save your wallet." You looked at all the takeout boxes on the counter. "I think we ordered enough for a small army."

"Yeah, but it’s so good." He punctuates his sentence with a groan and an eye roll that make your stomach flutter for just a moment; you’re not blind after all.

You’ve always found Pato attractive, even before you started working here, but now that you have the job, you know it's important to keep those feelings at bay. Not only that, but he made it easy to do so when he was constantly icing you out. Reminding yourself of those facts, you redirect your attention to the TV in front of you.

That was the first of many movie nights with Pato. You were at the paddock basically every day, and he claimed he got lonely being alone in his trailer every night, so he kept inviting you back.

For a tik tok, you had Pato and Felix make a list of red flags about each other, in which they both mentioned each other's taste in movies. Of course, the two started to argue about it, and Pato turned to you. "YN thinks my taste in movies is great; we always do movie nights together."

"Mate, I can’t believe you’ve been exposing her to that." He pauses, then says, "Wait, how often do you do movie nights? And why am I never invited?"

"Because your taste in movies sucks."

They move onto the next topic, and you cut that part out of the video, really not wanting too many people to see it, but it does get you wondering why he never invites Felix over instead of or even with you.

Two nights later, at your next movie night, you bring it up. "Patito?"

He groans. "What?"

"Why don’t you ever invite Felix over for movie night?" He looks at you quizzically. "I mean, he’s like your best friend, right? So why don’t you ever have him over instead of me?"

"Felix likes to be doing something. He wants to play a game or go out, which is great and all, but after work sometimes I just like to relax and watch a movie but don’t necessarily want to be alone."

"So you picked me because I’m boring."

He laughs. "Not boring, just easy." You squeal at him and smack him in the chest, but he grabs your arm and pulls you onto him from across the sofa. "Come on, you know I’m just playing."

You’re facing him, and your upper body is in his lap as you look up at him. All of a sudden, you feel way too close to him, and like you’re crossing into dangerous territory. You sit up and pull back into your seat. "Yeah, I know. Let’s start the movie."

"You’re right, I don’t want to be up too late with quals tomorrow."

"It’s May; you always have something tomorrow."

Qualifying for the Indy GP goes really well, and Pato gets pole. The team getting pole was a huge accomplishment, so a bunch of people went out for drinks at a bar 10 minutes from the speedway. You’re out for a few hours, and around 11, everyone decides to disperse, and you begin to call for an Uber to your place, which is 30 minutes away. While standing outside and both of you ordering ubers, you complain to Pato about how late it’ll be when you finally get home.

"Just come stay at mine; you have to be back in Speedway at 6 anyway."

"Are you sure it’s not a problem? I can just Uber back."

"Stop being silly. You’re my friend, you’re never a problem."

You both climb into an Uber and ride the 10 minutes back to the speedway. You have the Uber drop you off at the entrance and walk to the driver lot from there. It’s a gorgeous night, and no one’s out right now.

Pato turns to you, "Let’s go walk the track." You laugh at him, not thinking he was serious. "No, come on, it’ll be fun."

"You’re crazy; we’ll get in trouble."

"Oh, come on, live a little, baby."

The name rolls off his lips, and you’re convinced you may do anything he asks. You’re being pulled by him towards the gasoline alley and pit lane, where you could climb onto the track.

He begins shouting when you get on the track. Calling out just to hear his echo. You pull him to you and put your hand over his mouth. Hush, you’re going to get us caught." You’re laughing as you say it because he’s fighting against your hand.

When you take your hand off his mouth, he looks around the track. "In 3 weeks, every one of these seats will be filled."

"I know, it’s crazy to think about."

"It’s like 300,000 eyes on you, watching every move you make; it’s nerve-wracking but also so thrilling."

He’s still looking out at the bleachers; you’re standing on the bricks in front of the padoga. "We could kiss the bricks?"

He looks down at his feet, dragging his shoe across the bricks. "Nah, I want to save it until I win."

Well, I don’t think you’ll have to wait long."

It’s silent for a moment, and you wonder if you’ve said the wrong thing. "We should probably head back. I have a GP to win before I can win the 500."

You burst out laughing at him. "You’re so cocky."

"Confident." He corrects you with a raised eyebrow. He grabs your wrist, then interlocks your hands. "Let’s go."

On the walk back, you’re leaning into his side with your head on his shoulder and never letting go of his hand. When you arrive back at the motorhome, you’re exhausted. You head into the bathroom to wash your face, and Pato calls out to you, "There’s a spare toothbrush under the sink; I’ll get out some clothes for you."

When you exit the bathroom, there’s a pair of Pato’s merch pajamas sitting on his bed for you. "We can either share the bed or I can pull out the couch, but Elba says the couch is uncomfortable, so it’s up to you."

The thought of being that close to him all night makes your heart skip a beat. "Are you sure you’re okay sharing the bed?"

"We’re adults." He shrugs like it’s obvious. "As long as you’re not a blanket hog, we’ll be just fine."

After you change into pajamas, you get into the side of the bed that doesn’t have his things on the nightstand. As you climb under the layers of blankets, warmth and his smell engulf you. It’s different from how he smells day to day; it’s like what he usually smells like minus the sweat and gasoline. It makes you feel incredibly close to and surrounded by him. Sleep quickly begins to overtake you; you’re vaguely aware of him climbing into bed next to you, but you're fast asleep within 5 minutes.

The next morning, you woke up with a minor headache, and as you woke, you noticed that you were clinging to the man next to you. You’re half lying on top of him and have your arm across his chest and your face on his pec. Despite how comfortable you were, you knew it would be bad if he woke up and found you hanging all over him. You reluctantly and carefully pulled away from him and climbed out of bed. When you climbed out of bed, he rolled over and started searching for something in the bed. Rocky jumped up into the spot you’d just vacated and cuddled up with Pato, which seemed to settle him back into sleep. You quietly got ready for your day at work, stealing an Electrolit to hopefully ward off your headache.

As you searched the fridge for something edible, Pato emerged from the bedroom. His shorts hung low on his hips, and he’s shirtless; even with his bedhead, he looks absolutely delicious. "Goodmorning, sunshine."

He groans and stretches. "Morning, did you sleep good?"

"Yeah, I was exhausted, and that bed is stupidly comfortable.

"We still have an hour until we have to be at work; do you want to get breakfast?"

"I love the way you think."

"Give me five to get ready, and we’ll head out."

You end up taking his McLaren to a small diner. There’s a mural of IMS on one of the walls of the diner and a checkered flag in the window. "I still can’t believe this whole town celebrates like this for a whole month." Pato is looking out the window at the stores, all with flags adorning them.

"This is how I grew up. My dad and I looked forward all year for this month. I could never sleep the night before the 500; I was always too hyped up, like a kid on Christmas. I love this sport."

You quickly finish eating, then head to the track. Today’s the day of the Indianapolis Grand Prix, where Pato will be starting on pole, and you both have work to do before the race starts.

You don’t see him much after you get back to the track; you’re both being pulled in twenty different directions, but you’re able to get a photo of him climbing into the car for the Instagram story and wish him luck then.

The race starts well; he’s able to get through the first lap scrape-free, which cannot be said for all of the field. Around lap 60, he gets hit from behind and spins out; by the time the AMR team gets him going again, he’s in 21st place. The team is ecstatic with the finish of the race, with Rossi winning it, but for Pato, the race went awful. He had really high hopes for the race but ended up in P17.

The team has obligatory celebrations, and you have to capture some content of Rossi for the social media accounts. After all the celebrations are done, you go on a search to find Pato. You find him in his pit box reviewing race footage.

You lightly place your hand on his shoulder, "Hey,"

"Oh, hi."

"Tough race."

He lets out a dry laugh. "Yeah, no kidding."

"Are you ok?"

"Just frustrated."

"We’ve been invited to drink to celebrate Rossi’s win; wanna go?"

"No, I’ll just bring the mood down. You should go, though."

"There are plenty of chances to go drinking with them; do you want to just do a movie night? We can watch a sad movie, so you can’t bring the mood down."

He laughs, which was your intended reaction. "Yeah, you always cheer me up."

You go up on your tippy toes and wrap him in a hug, "You ran a great race today." As you pull away, Kevin Lee is hanging nearby to get a word with Pato. "I’ll see you tonight."

You have lots of work to do, and it’s a job in itself just to be able to grab Alex and take up his time. It’s hours later when you’re finally done for the day and able to escape to Pato’s trailer. He’s already in there and changed into sweats; when he opens the door for you, he looks mopey.

You’ve run to Walmart and bought fresh clothes—a pair of sweats and an oversized t-shirt—that you’ve now changed into.

You’ve been in his trailer so many times now that it’s anything but awkward. You look around at the place; the TV is still off, but there’s an almost empty glass and a bottle of tequila on the counter. Rocky and Norbi are calm in a way they wouldn’t be if he hadn’t taken them out, so at least you know that’s been done. You don’t really know how to comfort him; today was a big loss, and going into the 500, you know it hurts.

"You came to watch a movie, right?”

"I came because you’re my friend, and I know you’re upset. So whatever you want to do,"

He slumps down on the couch in front of you. "I’m so disappointed. I failed myself and the team. I had this race in the bag to win, but I fucked it all up."

You sat down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "You did everything you could to make this a great race. You couldn’t help that you got hit. All you can do now is focus forward on the 500."

He leans back, "I know. You’re right." He pulls you back, and you’re now both reclining on the sofa with heads turned towards each other, only a few inches apart. "You’re my best friend, you know."

You smile at him. "Yeah, you’re mine too."

The two of you are pressed together from your shoulders to your knees. You grab the blanket that’s on the couch next to you and cover both of you with it. You turn on the TV to a show you’ve seen a million times and let the soft noise of it drift the two of you to sleep.

You wake up at 2:00 AM and can barely move from the position you’ve been sleeping in. You gently wake Pato and convince him to move to the bed. When you both climb under the covers, he grabs you and pulls you into him, placing a kiss on the side of your head. He’s clearly barely awake, but you can’t fall asleep.

Your body is buzzing with the feeling of his against yours and his breath on your neck. You feel like a horrible person because he got so vulnerable with you and is clearly just seeking comfort in you after a bad day, and you’re obsessing over it like a schoolgirl. Still, you can’t help the feeling that’s coursing through your body, like you’d be content to stay this way forever.

When you wake up, it’s like nothing has changed between the two of you. Pato feels better and is back to his normal and cheerful self, and your relationship stays what it always was, friends. It’s not that you ever expected anything to change, but for that night, you allowed yourself to hope it would.

A week of lots of work, three movie nights, and one sleepover goes by, and then it’s Saturday and time for qualifying. The team does incredible, all four cars make it into the fast 12. Sunday holds so much anticipation for the team. You’re slammed with making posts to celebrate yesterday’s results along with today’s. Not to mention, every time one of the drivers went out, you stopped everything to watch their run.

After the first run, Pato and Fro advance to the fast 6, and you watch to see who gets bumped. Knowing the drivers has brought a whole new side to this sport for you, you can’t even imagine what it’s like for the drivers who have failed to make it. The Firestone Fast 6 has Marcus Ericsson on pole, with Pato starting 3rd and Felix 5th. You know this is an incredible place to be for the race; to have a spot in the front row is a huge deal, but Ericsson on pole has everyone worried he’ll pull away with a second win.

You have a week that consists of two practices and studying every move Ericsson makes to find his weak spots and figure out how Pato can play off them. You’re posting on social media five times a day to lead up to the race. The Legends Day parade made for incredible content, and you’re left in awe at the people covering the streets just for a chance to be waved at by a driver.

Pato convinced you to spend the night with him after the parade; you couldn’t say no when he pulled out the puppy dog eyes and pouted at you to stay, especially when you never wanted to say no in the first place. It really was easier to stay in Speedway for the night, considering the traffic in the morning will be horrendous, and you sleep the best you ever have when you’re lying next to him.

The 500 lived up to everything it should. It was 200 laps of pure excitement. At no point in the race were you sure of who was going to win, and it left you unable to breathe for most of it. You had spent the day taking photos and videos so you could do an "Admin’s photo dump," and if you took some photos of Pato making ridiculous faces at you that you planned to just keep to yourself, no one had to know.

At lap 190, Ericsson is in the lead, with Colton Herta second and Pato third. You know that Pato will have to pull off a huge move to take the lead; he’s racing against two of the greatest in the field. As they go around turn 3, Herta goes on the outside of Ericsson, trying to make a pass for the lead, but he finds the marbles and wrecks both of them. Pato got by, but others behind him were not so lucky. The four car wreck gets red flagged immediately. The good news is, Pato’s restarting in 1st; the bad news is there are nine laps left, and Palou is right behind him. As the race starts up again, you can barely breathe. After a warmup lap, the race goes green, Palou takes a hard dive to the inside and passes Pato. He has the lead for three laps, and you’re already upset for Pato; you know how badly he wants this. As you’re thinking that, Pato passes him from the outside, and begins to run away with the lead. He leads the last five laps of the race and crosses the start-finish line as the winner of the 110th Indianapolis 500.

You’re so thrilled for him that you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can hear him on the team radio celebrating and thanking God in Spanish. He does his victory lap, and then brings the car back into pit lane. You’re at his car before it’s even stopped, taking his steering wheel from him, and when he gets out of the car, he wraps you in a hug. He’s holding you around the waist and lifting you up, spinning you. "You just won the fucking Indy 500. I’m so proud of you."

"I couldn’t have done it without you."

He’s all too quickly being pulled away from you and being congratulated by the rest of the team. You stand in awe as you watch one of the most important people in the world to you live out their dreams. You watch every part of the celebration with so much pride. You can’t think of anyone more deserving of the ring, the wreath, or dumping a bottle of milk on himself.

When he kisses the bricks, you’re right there next to him, kissing them too. "I guess it’s good we waited for the real deal to do this."

"This was definitely better than doing it just because we could." He has the biggest smile on his face, from ear to ear and reaching his eyes, and all you can think is how you’d give anything to always have him this happy.

It's been hours of celebrating him, and you’re soaking up every moment. When all of your business at the Speedway is over, you both head back to his motorhome to get ready to go out and celebrate. When you get there, he pulls down the fanciest-looking bottle of tequila you’ve ever seen.

"Take a shot with me?"

You scrunch your nose. "I hate doing shots."

"You can’t say no to me, I’m an Indy 500 winner.”

You sigh and give in. "That card works for today and today only." He has poured out two shot glasses, and handed one to you. "Here’s to you, being the best friend a girl could ask for, and the best damn driver this track has even seen." You clink your glass with his and take the shot, choking it down. "Holy shit, that needs a chase-"

You’re cut off by lips on yours. At first, you’re shocked and don’t react. Once you do, you have one hand on his cheek and the other around his neck, and you lean into the kiss like it’s oxygen. It’s easily the best kiss you’ve ever had, you’re thinking everything and nothing at once, and the pieces of the world feel as if they’ve fallen together. His hands around your waist pulling you to him, the way his mouth presses into yours, the taste of tequila on his lips, and the faint smell of sweat, it’s all too much and yet not enough.

You’re unsure how much time has passed when he pulls away, but you’re panting to catch your breath. "Yeah, that’ll work."

"I promise we’ll talk about this later, I just had to do that, and I really need to shower.”

You’re left a little stunned as he disappears into the bathroom. It has you wondering what this means for the two of you, what if it was just a caught-in-the moment thing and he didn’t really mean it?

He is ready to go within 20 minutes, you’ve changed into a pair of ripped jeans and a corset top, and he’s wearing white dress pants, with a white t-shirt and a gold chain around his neck. You’ve put on a light layer of makeup, and pulled your hair into a bun in an attempt to hide the fact that you’ve been in the sun all day. When he sees you, he says, "You look beautiful."

"Not too bad yourself."

Once you arrive at a bar in Indianapolis, Pato walks around and opens your door for you. He always opens the door for you because you have no clue how to open the doors to his McLaren on your own. When you step out, he places his hand on your lower back. "Is this ok?" You nod at him, and walk into the bar together.

The bar is already filled with people, Pato’s family, friends, other drivers, their partners, and parts of the team out to celebrate Pato’s win. Not everyone in the paddock is best friends, but they all get along, and Pato is so personable that he’s friends with almost everyone, so most drivers are happy for his win. Even Colton and Alex, who are surely having a rough night, came out to congratulate him.

You’re able to watch Pato all night, and he’s a different person than when it’s just the two of you. He’s an entertainer at heart, always putting on a show in front of a crowd, but when it’s just the two of you, it’s like he’s able to relax and just be his authentic self. You've been seated with Kelly and Emille for most of the night, not drinking because you told Pato you’d drive so he could party properly. Even while celebrating with everyone, he still checks in with you periodically throughout the night.

Kelly and Emille must notice the hand he places on your thigh or his lips brushing against your ear because they ask you if the two of you have "finally realized you’re soulmates". You shrug them off, figuring they’d just been drinking too much, but then they confess that one of the reasons they invited you to drink so much is because Felix and Rossi were convinced that you two would be perfect for each other. They quickly move onto a new topic, but you begin to wonder what dating Pato would be like. You figure it’d be a lot like your relationship now, but you’d get to have all of him, and not have to hide your feelings for him. The thought of getting to know him more intimately sends a chill down your spine.

As things start to wind down, Pato comes to where you’re sitting, and wraps his arm across your shoulders. The group has moved around your table, and he’s starting to say his goodbyes. Once you’re out to the car, he hands you his keys. "Please don’t wreck my baby."

"Oh come on, you’ve gotta have more faith in me than that."

"You’re the only person besides my papa I’ve ever let drive this car. That’s enough faith."

You turn on the radio, and the car ride back to Speedway is filled with Pato’s singing. When you arrive back in his motorhome, he’s begging you to spend the night again. You, of course, stay with him.

Climbing in bed, he reaches his hand out to the space in between the two of you. "Too much space. Come closer." You’re on your sides facing each other, and as you scoot in, he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards him. "Much better."

You fall asleep like that, but when you wake up, he’s not in the bed. It has you panicking, wondering if it was a mistake to kiss him, and even more, imagining a relationship with him. You’re in one of his sweatshirts when you climb out of bed and head to the living area. You find it empty, of both Pato and the dogs. You’re pretty worried now, not knowing where he could’ve gone or why he disappeared so early.

Before your mind is able to wander too much further, the door to his motorhome opens, and the dogs come barging in. Pato has his hands full, but when he sets the stuff down on the counter and finally looks at you, he’s upset. "Oh no! You were supposed to still be in bed. Shoot!"

"Where did you go?" You’re very confused about his whereabouts and his aversion to you being awake.

"I went to get us breakfast, I wanted to surprise you when you woke up. I got all your favorites."

You can’t help the smile breaking out on your face. "You got me breakfast?"

"Of course I did. I know I said we’d talk about the kissing later, but I still feel bad for making you wait," a blush spreading across his cheeks. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You’re wrapping him in a hug before you know it. "I thought you freaked on me and bailed."

He pulls back from you and lightly takes your face in both hands. "I’m not bailing or freaking. I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, and I can’t stop thinking about you, haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I can feel myself falling for you more each day."

You can see the sincerity in his eyes as they bore into yours. "Pato,"

"Yeah?"

"Kiss me again."

A huge grin breaks out on his face as he pulls yours to him. The kiss starts softly, with one of his hands cradling the back of your head while the other stays rested on your face. As it goes on, you continue to push him, your tongue swiping across his lips, seeking entrance. His hand tangles in your hair, and the other moves down to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer to him. He has full control of the kiss, and you, at this point. Your hands are in his hair and on his chest, letting him lead you through minutes of a make out session like you’re in high school.

He pulls away, but you continue to chase his lips. He almost gives in, but he grabs your face and stops you from continuing. "Wait," He’s panting, and you’re pretty sure it’s the best sound you’ve ever heard. "I have something important I need to ask you."

You look at him expectantly and hope he can’t tell how fast your heart is beating. "Will you come to the victory banquet with me tonight? I want to celebrate with you."

You consider it, you know it’s a black tie event, and you know it’s broadcasted; you really don’t want anyone wondering or theorizing about who you are. "I don’t have anything to wear."

"I’ll buy you something."

"I do not need you to buy me clothes."

"Now you’re just being difficult. Come with me, por favor, and let me buy you a dress."

You caved to his begging, like always, and he took you to a high-end boutique to find a dress. As you looked through the store, he grabbed a few dresses to add to the ones you were trying on. He followed you to the dressing rooms, and you modeled each dress for him.

"Pato, I can’t believe you picked this out."

"What’s wrong with it?" His voice is whiny, and you can tell through the door that he’s offended.

You look at yourself one more time in the mirror before stepping out to show him. It’s a rouched pink satin dress that’s all too short, and shows an insane amount of cleavage. Pato leaned back on the seat, looking as smug as ever. "You’ve never looked better."

You give him a death stare, "This is so not appropriate, and so not funny." You’re getting stressed about all of this, it’s a lot to go to this event with him and be seen by all of your coworkers, but even more so by any fans.

He must notice how overwhelmed you’re getting because he reaches out and grabs your hand. "Woah, baby, what’s wrong?" You explain to him everything that’s on your mind. "Hey, it’ll be alright, I promise you. What do you need to feel better about this? I’ll give you anything."

"I just want to find something to wear."

"Ok, we’ll find something, I’ll take you to every store in the state if I have to. You’ve still got a few more in there, yeah?" You nod and disappear behind the curtain to try the last couple on.

Finally, you put on a dress that felt perfect. It’s a floor-length black gown with a slit on the left leg and a deep v-neck. "I really like this one, but tell me what you think, and be honest."

You walk out and stand in front of Pato, giving him a slow twirl. "Wow."

"Do you like it?"

"Wow." You slap his arm lightly. "Estás deliciosa." (You are delicious)

You wrap your arms around his shoulder and sit perched on his legs. "Y estás muy rico." (And you are very hot)

"I think this is the one, but I won’t be able to keep my hands off you all night."

You change back into your clothes, and head to buy that dress. Your jaw drops when you realize the dress is $450, but before you’re able to protest, Pato has already paid for it. "You did not have to do that, I could’ve found a different dress."

"I liked that one."

"I don’t even know how I ended up trying it on, I didn’t grab anything that expensive."

"I grabbed it, you deserve nice things." He kisses your cheek. "Now stop and let me spoil you."

You feel a heat rise on your cheeks, You’re not used to being treated like you deserve everything, but something tells you Pato’s not going to stop doing so.

You spend hours getting ready, but finally you’re at the victory banquet together. He pays for a ride there, so you could both drink and not worry about it. You walk the red carpet together, and he has his hand around your waist or on the small of your back the whole time.

Everything feels so natural with Pato, from the way he gets you a drink without having to ask what you’d like to his hand resting just above your knee. As a host drones on, you lean into him and whisper, "Pato?"

"Hmm?"

"Is this a date?"

He turns to you a little quizzically, and almost looks offended. "What? No."

You try to hide your disappointment. "Oh, ok, I just thought..."

"When I take you on a date, you will have no doubt it’s a date. There’ll be flowers and dinner, and I will pick you up, and if you’re lucky, I’ll kiss you at the end of the night."

June

And a few days later, he keeps his promise. He picks you up from your hotel with the largest bouquet you’ve ever seen. He then brings you to a restaurant in downtown Detroit, it’s easily the nicest place you’ve ever been. He pays for the meal, which was easily $500, and then drives you home. Things with Pato were easy, the date was the best you’d ever been on, and you both spent dinner laughing, and constantly brushing against each other in some way. When you got to your hotel door, he kissed you as promised. Everything with him is still so new, which makes you want him desperately. His hand wrapped in your hair, which pulls slightly as his tongue slips into your mouth, sends a chill down your spine. You lose track of time, and your thoughts are flooded with nothing but him. You pull away from him, but he immediately moves his lips to your neck.

You can feel your chest heaving, "We should stop." even though you really don’t want to.

"This is more fun." You can feel the vibrations of his words against your neck.

"If we don’t stop now, I don’t think I will." Despite how much you want that, you’re still hesitant about jumping into things too quickly with him.

He detaches himself from your neck, and when he pulls back, you can see that his pupils are blown, and his hair is mussed from your hands running through it. "Have I told you how insanely gorgeous you look tonight?"

"Only about 30 times." You stand there smiling at each other for a moment, stuck in your own bubble. "It’s getting late."

"I know. I should go."

"Yeah, you probably should." Except you can’t help yourself from kissing him one last time. This time it’s soft and sweet.

"Now I’ve really got to go before we get started again." He walks towards the elevator, but turns just before heading into it. "You’re driving me crazy, invading all of my thoughts, I can barely function!" You know he’s joking, but you also feel the same way.

"Goodnight, Patito!" You call after him, and he returns with "Sweet dreams."

You spent the next few weeks settling into each other. You haven’t told anyone about being together, and have been enjoying your time in secret. You’ve just decided that there’s no rush to tell anyone, and it’s a little fun sneaking around.

It’s three days before Road America when you and Pato are softly chatting while waiting for Fro and Alex to arrive so you can film some content. You mindlessly have your hands locked together, and he’s rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You don’t notice the guys arrive, and they sneak up on you.

"Hey, guys, what’s up?" You jump when you hear Felix’s voice and pull your hand back.

Pato tries to play it off by greeting him back, but Felix just bursts into laughter. You and Pato both laugh along with him but are confused. "What’s so funny?"

"Are you seriously trying to hide that you’re together right now?" Felix can hardly get the words out.

You and Pato both share a look before trying to play it off. "What? We’re not together, we’re just friends."

Now Alex, who tends to just watch, joins in, "We’ve known since the 500."

You roll your eyes at him. "Ok, we haven’t even known since the 500."

"Tell that to lover boy because he didn’t take his eyes off of you all night, and we saw the way he was touching you."

Pato’s cheeks are now bright red, "Ok, I wasn’t that bad."

"Like a love sick puppy." Pato hides his face in his hands.

At this point, you’re just laughing, leave it to Rossi to be brutally honest. You pull his hands away, "Aww, baby, don’t be shy; I think it’s cute."

July

Mid-Ohio once again falls on the Fourth of July weekend. Pato did great in the race, working from 10th place qualifying to a 2nd place finish. The two of you booked a hotel room together for the weekend because you end up in the same hotel most of the time anyway.

After the race, Pato took you out to celebrate. You found a place that was putting on a fireworks show and was lined with food trucks. You both got the greasiest food imaginable, and bought an elephant ear. You found a place in the grass and got comfortable on a large blanket. You laid against him as you waited for the fireworks to start and ate your food.

You’re talking about everything and nothing when Pato grabs your hand and then kisses you softly. "What was that for?"

"I think I’m falling in love with you."

At first, you’re a little shocked to hear it, but you can’t say you don’t feel the same. Everything with Pato has been so fast, but it’s also been so incredibly easy and natural. "I think I’m falling in love with you, too."

You feel like a teenager, making out in front of all these people, but it’s dark enough that you hope no one can see you. It’s the most loved you’ve ever felt, you can tell he’s pouring everything he feels into the kiss. You’re lying down on the ground, cuddled together, as you watch the fireworks go off above you.

When you get back to the hotel room, you’re not tired in the slightest. You’re pulling him into you and kissing him as he tries to unlock the door. When he finally gets the door open, he pulls you inside the room, pins you against the back side of it, and automatically asks for entry into your mouth with his tongue.

It doesn’t take long until he’s backing you up onto the bed and you’re falling back on it.

He continues chasing your lips, only breaking away to pull off his shirt. He grabs the hem of your shirt, but before lifting off, he stops to make sure you really want to do this. When you nod your head, he pulls it over your head. Your chest is heaving as he reaches behind you to undo your bra.

You can feel him pressing up against you, and you reach down to grab him as he attaches his mouth to your breasts. It has him pressing into your hand and letting out a moan that has you shivering.

Before you know it, you’re lying together in the middle of the bed, and you’re begging him to slide into you. When he finally does, you see stars. He’s babbling in Spanish, you can’t pick it all up, but you understand that he’s telling you how beautiful you are and that he loves you. You’ve never felt so fully connected to or in love with a person.

Your foreheads are pressed together, and your lips are brushing every time he moves. His right hand is holding yours, and his left is tweaking your nipple.

"Eres la persona más sexy que he conocido." (You’re the sexiest person I’ve ever met.)

His Spanish has you shivering under him as he continuously pumps into you. You feel yourself growing closer as he begins to speed up, and you move your hand down to your clit to move yourself along. He slaps your hand away and replaces it with his own. "Quiero explorar cada centímetro de tu cuerpo." (I want to explore every inch of your body)

You can tell he’s close by his faltering rhythm, but so are you. As he moves his lips to your ear and tells you to let go, you go flying over the edge. You’re seeing white, and he follows quickly after; it’s the best orgasm you’ve ever had.

You’re both naked with a layer of sweat covering your bodies, and you’re curled into his side. You’re tracing random designs across his chest as you both try to catch your breath, and he is placing kisses on your forehead.

"I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy." You’re whispering into the dim room, hoping he knows how special he is to you.

"Me either. Estoy enloquecido por ti." (I am crazy for you)

Things with Pato keep getting better. He took you to Mexico with him during the break between Ohio and Toronto, and you met a lot of his family. You automatically got along with everyone, and loved how close knit everyone was. You only fell deeper for him around his family. He introduced you to everyone as his girlfriend, and told everyone how much he loved you. You’re having dinner at one of his Tio’s farms, and you watch him as he runs around with all of his younger cousins, and you decide that if he asked you tomorrow, you’d run off to Mexico and spend the rest of your life with him.

August

Nashville came, and the two of you spent the weekend partying like it was your 21st birthday. When you came to a bar with a mechanical bull in it, Pato was convinced he could ride it. You took a picture of him, cowboy hat on and arm in the air, and put it on your Instagram story with the caption "save a horse, ride a cowboy". This was the first time you’ve posted anything about him, but you figured it wouldn’t be a big deal because you have a small following made up mostly of friends and family.

The following morning, Pato posted a photo dump of the weekend, and included a picture of you kissing his helmet before he climbed into his car. You can’t tell that it’s you, from your hair or the angle Elba took the photo from, but that doesn’t stop people from noticing. Immediately, fans flood the comments with questions about your identity. Your papaya polo is the only thing that gives people any clue as to who you are. No one really ends up finding out it’s you, but a few people see your story and like it.

You’re back in Indianapolis the next week, and Pato is staying at your apartment. He insists that he meet your family, claiming it’s unfair that he hasn’t met them when you’ve met all of his. You took him to your childhood home for dinner. Your dad grilled steaks, and your mom made corn on the cob and baked potatoes. Your parents knew about you and Pato, and they’d known who he was since he started racing. You were nervous as you pulled into your driveway. Pato grew up with money, you know that most drivers do, and he grew up in a huge house in San Antonio. You don’t know exactly what he makes now, but you know that it’s a lot, most likely pushing $1 million a year. Your yearly salary is a weekend getaway for him. He’s never shown that he cared at all; he gladly stays with you in your apartment with creaky floors and poor water pressure, but you still worry about what he will think of the home.

Your worries dissipate as soon as you walk in the door, and he’s nothing but his perfect self. He shakes hands with your father and hugs your mother, you can tell that they love him already. You eat dinner together in your backyard, and he immediately starts talking racing with your dad. Your dog stares at him as he eats, begging for a bite, and you chuckle when he caves and tries to secretly feed him a bite.

You know that the season only has a month left in it, and the thought of living in two different states looms like a bit of a dark cloud, but moments like this make you know you’ll be okay.

September

The season is closing, and you’re busier than you’ve thought possible. The top 3 for the championship are Palou, Pato, and Felix, so you’ve been insanely busy promoting the last 2 weeks of the season, and planning posts for the result of the championship.

There’s a lot of tension on the team because of how close Pato and Felix are, and either of them could win the championship. There’s also the chance that neither of them would win it, which would stink after such a strong year for the team. You worry about Pato and his relationship with Felix, and you don’t want the fight for the championship to hurt that at all. You can also tell that the stress is getting to Pato, he’s at work constantly, and even when you’re home, he’s studying his previous races or working out ridiculous amounts. You try to be there for him, but it’s hard when there’s no way you can ensure he wins the next two races.

And Portland doesn’t go the way he wanted. He has a 3rd-place finish, which slots him down a spot in the race for the championship and makes it so he needs to have an absolutely perfect run for Monterey.

You’re exiting the bathroom in your hotel room when you notice he’s sitting on the bed, staring off into space. "Pato, are you ok, honey?"

He takes a minute before responding. "There are five days left of the season."

"I know that."

"I live in San Antonio; you live in Indianapolis."

"Oh." You’ve both been avoiding this subject for as long as possible, but you’re running out of time, and it needs to be addressed. You sit down gently on the bed next to him.

"I love you, you know that, but I don’t know if I can handle being away from you that often."

"I know, I’ve gotten so used to being with you that it’s hard to be apart." You know that some couples crave distance, and would not be able to handle working together as well as basically living together, but you always want to be within 30 feet of Pato.

"Maybe I’ll move up here, it’s where the team is based, so it makes sense. I just already don’t see my family enough, especially the ones in Mexico."

Pato does so much for you, and works so hard that you know what the answer is. "I’ll move to San Antonio." You’ll be with him, but you have to be in Indiana frequently anyway for work, so you’d still see your family a lot.

"That’s not fair to you, to pick up your whole life."

"It’s what I want to do. I don’t want to be anywhere that you aren’t, and I’ll see my family whenever we have to work."

He pulls you into a hug that’s a little bone crushing. "I love you, mas que vida." (more than life)

"Te amo también." (I love you too) Your eyes are a little watery, and having moments like this with Pato remind you how endlessly lucky you are.

Pato seems to be in overdrive, his car is lightning fast, and he comes out on top of both practices.

You’re sitting in the driver's room with Pato while he gets ready for qualifying, he’d arrived insanely early, so he had time to decompress before going out. You’re cuddled together on the couch, with his fire suit hanging off his hips, and you’re talking about something other than racing for what feels like the first time in months. Rossi enters and finds the two of you there, "You know this is for drivers only?" You know he’s just giving you a hard time.

"I had to be here, I’m doing very important business." You smile up at him as he begins to grab all of his racing gear.

"I can tell."

As Rossi gets ready, he joins in on your and Pato’s conversation, but not much because the two of you talk so much that it barely gives him a chance. Then Felix shows up, late as always. He grabs his helmet and then hands it to you.

"What am I going with this?"

Oh, you don’t need it? I thought you were a driver now."

"You are sooo funny." You grab a pillow off the couch and throw it at him.

You sit with Pato until you have to go to the pits to do work. During qualifying, he puts up an insane lap that puts him in P1 by over a second. Pato gets the pole for the race tomorrow.

You’re both buzzing when you walk into your hotel room, and he’s immediately all over you. You’re setting your stuff down by the door, and he’s crowding up behind you. His hands are on your hips, and he’s grinding into you as he attaches his lips to your neck. "You’re my good luck charm. I’m gonna take you to bed and show you how thankful I am."

Heat is riding up your neck, and you’re leaning back into his touch. He takes you to the bed and tosses you on top of it. He takes his shirt off, but then turns all his attention towards you. He was kissing a trail down your body as he undressed you. Worshipping every new piece of revealed skin. He had you in just underwear panting and begging for him to do something more. He’s teasing you over the lace of your panties, and you know it’s absolutely soaked.

He finally takes them off and slips one finger in. You’re so desperate that it has you crying out, and he quickly adds another. "Is this why they call you fast hands?" You can barely get the sentence out, but it has him laughing. His hands are good, but they’re nothing compared to his mouth. He’s still pumping into you with his fingers, but he brings his tongue to your clit. He circles it with his tongue a few times, but then sucks on it lightly, which has you crying out.

Your hands are in his hair, pulling so hard that you know it has to hurt, but it seems to only spur him on. He lays his tongue flat against you, and you buck against him as he repeatedly hits your spot. It has you tumbling toward the edge, but you pull him away before you’re able to.

He looks a little confused, but you quickly dissolve his fears. "Want to come with you in me." He immediately crawls up your body, and pulls down his sweats, which now have a wet spot on them, just enough to free his cock. He gives himself a few pumps before he's filling you. He doesn’t give you time to adjust as he starts pounding into you, his thumb pressing circles around your clit.

"Come on, pretty girl, come for me." His words send you over, and you’re coming with a loud moan. He follows you shortly after, biting into your shoulder to muffle the groan he lets out.

He collapses next to you as you catch your breath. Your chests are both heaving when he says, "Round two?"

It has you laughing out loud because, of course, he wants to go again. "I'm afraid I won’t be your good luck charm if you fall asleep behind the wheel because you were up fucking me all night."

"Doesn’t matter. It’ll be worth it."

You do end up sleeping, which is a good thing because you both have incredibly busy days. You've been incredibly nervous all day, buzzing with anticipation of whether Pato will become the champion. You don’t get a lot of time, but you do see him for a few minutes before he has to get in the car.

"Kiss for good luck?" You place an exaggerated kiss on his lips. "What about a quickie?"

"Patricio O’ward!" Your jaw is open, and you’re looking around to see if anyone heard him. "Get in your car."

He hugs you before he has to go, but you whisper to him as he does. "Be safe. And I’ll give you whatever you want if you win." When he pulls back, he’s smiling from ear to ear, and he jogs off to his car.

You were on the edge of your seat for all 95 laps. Each lap was more nerve wracking than the last, and you felt like you could only breathe when a yellow was thrown. To make matters worse, there wasn’t a dull moment in the race. There were six yellows and a red flag thrown in the race, and one of the yellows screwed Pato, letting most of the field pit on yellow when he’d just pitted on green. You felt crazy, with his radio in your ear, tracking his stats for every lap, and counting how long each pit stop took. The whole team was on edge, but you were even more so.

After what felt like 10 hours, the race ended with Pato in the lead. You realized immediately everything this meant for him. This is the year he became an Indy 500 winner and an IndyCar champion.

He pulls into pit lane, and there’s cameras all over as the team runs out to meet him. He’s standing on top of his car, screaming out and celebrating, but then he spots you. He points to you and runs over to you as he takes off his helmet. He’s kissing you before you can really process anything. You grab his face and look into his eyes to speak to him. "I can’t believe it, I’m so proud of you." Your cheeks hurt from how wide your smile is.

"Never could’ve done it without you."

Your kiss was put on national television, and fans quickly put together that you’re the girl from Nashville and the victory banquet, but you don’t care. You are so insanely in love with Pato, and you want the world to know it.

#pato o'ward x reader #pato o’ward fanfiction #pato o'ward #indy car

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ingravinoveritas · 8 months

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Following up on this excellent post from @nightgoodomens, it really is astonishing to see so many people in the GO fandom misunderstanding the characters/personalities of Aziraphale and Crowley. While I by no means am against people having head canons or differing interpretations, it has become frustrating to see people pushing their ideas about Aziraphale and Crowley onto others and declaring them to be official canon, leaving no room for any kind of discussion.

One of the things spoken about in the above linked post is the denigrating of Crowley, which seems to be a near constant in the fandom at this point, particularly in relation to the "apology dance" scene. (Which, to be fair, is chock full of soft!Dom Aziraphale vibes--thank you, Michael Sheen.) What seems to keep getting missed is that the entire apology dance routine is something that Aziraphale and Crowley do to each other. There is just as much of a possibility that Crowley sat there with a similarly smug look on his face and let out a guttural, snakey "Very nice" when Aziraphale did the dance in the years he listed off, because they play this game together.

Aziraphale and Crowley's relationship is one of equals, and I think this is also something people seem to not understand well. It seems as though a lot of fans who project themselves onto Crowley want to be taken care of, and so they want to believe the same of Crowley, and that the reason he wants to be taken care of is because he is broken. But someone doesn't have to be broken to want someone to take care of them. Sometimes the people who are a shambles on the outside can be dominant, just as sometimes the most buttoned up, put together people can also be submissive. And sometimes the people who look in control on the outside can feel not at all that way on the inside.

But this nuanced thinking seems to increasingly be difficult for many GO fans, particularly those who spend a great deal of time on social media, a place where people are either blindly praised or denigrated and torn down, and where such behavior greatly reinforces that binary, black-and-white mindset. We so badly want the world to be clear-cut--good vs. evil, heroes vs. bad guys--but very often that just isn't how things work. And it is exactly what Terry and Neil were trying to speak against in the GO book (and subsequently, the TV show).

The other thing that I think influences a lot of fans' perceptions about Aziraphale and Crowley is their chosen corporations (i.e., Crowley being thin and Aziraphale being plump). There is an automatic assumption that thin somehow equals more vulnerable, and for all of the emphasis that is placed on Aziraphale and Crowley being genderfluid/nonbinary/not subscribing to traditional gender roles, it's Crowley who seems to be viewed as more androgynous/femme, and is therefore looked at as inherently vulnerable. Meanwhile Aziraphale is thicker and viewed as more masculine, and therefore he is somehow inherently not vulnerable. Yet if the body types were reversed, it seems highly likely that fans' attitudes toward them would be much different.

(It also saddens me that this seems to mirror the fans' treatment of Michael and David, where Michael serves as a target for the fans' venom and is seen as less desirable/more threatening because he presents more traditionally masculine, while David is not targeted or attacked and is seen as more desirable/less threatening because he presents much more androgynously. Consequently, many fans find it easy not to sympathize with Michael, and when you can readily disregard someone's feelings, it becomes easier to see them as "less." In the case of Aziraphale and Michael, it leaves no room for either one to be vulnerable and is unfair to both of them.)

What I have always taken away from Good Omens--and from Michael and David's portrayal of Aziraphale and Crowley and how deeply they both understand these characters--is that Crowley doesn't need to be a perfect angel for Aziraphale to like him. He just needs to be a little bit of a good person. And Aziraphale doesn't need to be a perfect demon for Crowley to like him--he just needs to be enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Neither one has to fully subscribe to the other's outlook or point of view to listen to what they have to say.

Aziraphale and Crowley meet in the middle. In the place that becomes their side, and where they take care of each other, fight with each other, and love each other. And that's more than most of us could ever ask or hope for...

#good omens #aziraphale #crowley #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #ineffable husbands #i think this is also why so many fans can't handle honest criticism of GT and AL #in their minds either someone is completely good or completely terrible #there's no middle ground to just see someone as they are #i swear to God people have no sense of nuance anymore #i've had it officially.gif #also Michael yelling about Aziraphale being a bottom in 2019 was more galaxy brained than any of us even knew #PhD level of understanding of the assignment #bless his bisexual Welsh chaos #fandom woes #thoughts #discourse

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plantoyoon · 3 months

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Can I have a taste?

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Synopsis: Unexpected romance develops between co-workers, going on dates, drinking some coffee and alcohol.

Genre: co-workers, slow development, fluff, smut

Warnings: 18+, social anxiety, one shot

Wordcount: 9.9k

second warning: might not make perfect sense, not really proofread, I've just started writing recently... soooo thank you for reading, and if you have suggestions, I am here.

You know that moment when life seems to make so much sense, like everything is perfectly aligned, but actually if you look further and deeper you wonder how the pieces came together?

Well, working on international projects was something indeed interesting. From your coworkers perspective, the best part was meeting new people and making new friends. You being introverted, that seem like the worst part of it. Most of the people you met were nice or at least interesting, and finding differences and similarities between cultures was also entertaining.

It wasn't the best always working at your company, but it had it's perks. Like in this moment, being at a full table with laughing people, good food and great atmosphere after the end of a successful project. Everyone was making cute promises of new meetings and new ideas to put into practice. The overall effervescence of some wine and excitement was intoxicating.

You were sitting next to the only other girl from the big team and one of your coworker, being guarded and trying to interact as least as possible. It wasn't that you didn't like them, but it was a giving you a lot of anxiety being in a group, trying to throw in some ideas in the discussion. Being around some many passionate people about their field was a bit overwhelming. You were quite good at what you were doing, and you enjoyed it but it seemed like never enough to get on into this talks. Following all the ideas of all the people at the table was getting exhausting.

At the right moment you get a message from your boss asking you for some documents as urgent as possible. You're getting so caught up into finding what he asks that you don't even hear that someone asked you a question. But you heard silence, some laughter and raised your head from the phone to look around. Of course half of the people are looking at you, your coworker Hoseok comes at your rescue, making a small joke about the fault in being a workaholic and repeating the question for you.

"How it is to work in a project just with men?" You're looking to your left for the other girl and she is nowhere to be seen.

"Where is Sara?" you ask.

"I think she went for a smoke" another guy at the table answers.

"Hmm. Fine, I guess. We delivered what we had to deliver, so great." you answer and want to go back to your business. The idea for a distraction for them appears "You could ask my coworkers how was for them, because they mostly work in teams mostly formed by women, being more old in the company, I'm sure they have better insights on that. Guys?! you inquire and as soon as the conversation gets lively again you get to your phone, sipping on the water with lemon you had on the table.

As it gets noisier you get up to find a place a bit less agitated for you to focus. You know this place quite well so you identify quickly your spot, next to a staircase with a comfy chair and take a sit. But it doesn't take long until you get interrupted again. This time by one of the members from another country.

"Hei! What you doing down there?"

"I just need to solve some things urgently and I can't find this thing." you answer as politely as possible, because this was Yoongi. He was one of the first people you worked with outside your company. He was really nice, always helpful and seemed like a good person. And you wanted to be nice to him.

"How are you?" you ask seeing him still there, not quite ready to leave.

"Good. I really like this city, and the food is great."

"Yeah, it has his qualities." you didn't like your city, but you tried your best not to show that.

As you started getting more pings from your boss, you feel the need to hurry and ask Yoongi if he needs anything.

"I was looking for the toilet actually."

"Aah. I see. Well, it's right ahead, then you do a left next to the bar and then right and then you'll see the doors." you answer looking at Yoongi, seeing him now better, red in the cheeks, glassy eyes and leaning against the wall. He was a bit too drunk, and you chuckle to yourself at this tall, dizzy guy, looking for the bathroom.

You get up and start walking towards the restrooms. "Come after me." you say with your eyes still glued to your phone. He follows and enters the room after saying a shy thank you. With your eyes still looking for the files, you walk slowly towards your comfy hidden chair. But after a few minutes, Yoongi's back and seems a bit more fresh, with some droplets hanging at the ends of his hair, probably splashed some water on his face.

"Thank you, you're really good at giving direction. You could be a great guide." says he and then slowly goes back to the other people.

You wonder what is it with these people and their weird statements, but get over this thought quickly as you found the files you were looking for. You send them and dread the moment because now you have to get back to the table with the others.

As you get closer, you notice Yoongi took the seat next to your now empty one and you think to yourself that this should definitely get into some conversation, you have no escape at this point. Somehow, you don't despise the thought. You appreciated him, even though you have never seen each other until this week. You always talked through the phone, e-mails or online calls. Now you could also appreciate how handsome he looked, but you needed to stay as professional as you could and as you should.

You take your sit, trying to get into some small talk with the girl next to you, starting with complimenting her hair. You don't really know Sara, and try to ask some question to keep the conversation going. How did she start working with her team, what did she study, how the week felt like for her. The conversation runs smooth and you praise yourself for that.

After some time you feel a poke on your shoulder, and turn around not realising until now that you've almost turned with your back towards the people on your right. And you see Yoongi asking for the bottle of sparkling wine next to you.

"You're sure you want this? Maybe this?" pushing some water towards him.

He takes the water, pours some in his glass and some in your glass. Then asking again for the wine. You comply giving him the wine, and he firstly pours in your wine glass that still had some on the bottom, then going for his glass, followed by Hoseok glass. He asks the girl next to you if she wants some and pours the rest of the bottle into her glass.

At this point you expect some kind of toast, it seems like he has something on his mind to say. He raises his glass, demanding the others to follow in his movement and says: "This city is amazing, I like it so much and I am impressed by all the good work you people have put in." then he looks at you briefly "I want to see more of it. Towards more interesting projects and new friends. Cheers!" finishing the short toast with the clinks of the glasses.

You don't know why, but you felt some goosebumps when Yoongi looked at you. But this means nothing, he will go back to his country, his life and you should get your mind out of the scenarios that start forming in your head.

As time passes, you start getting more immersed in the conversation you had with the people at the table, especially with Yoongi, realising you have so many interests in common. You feel more comfortable now and the wine definitely made it a bit easier to get through the night. Hoseok turns his head towards you asking if you're going to stay any longer, because he wants to get home. You shake your head, looking at the time and seeing it was past 11 pm. You turn your head to Yoongi with inquiring eyes. He looks at you a bit lost, but answers after sighing, that he is ready to leave.

The three of you got up, said your see you tomorrows and goodbyes, and headed towards the exit. You feel the dizziness from the alcohol getting stronger, but the cold autumn air makes it a bit easier.

"I think I'll walk for a bit before calling for a taxi."

Hoseok already called his taxi and tries to convince you to call quickly for one because it's late, you have work tomorrow and so on. He is a good friend, but sometimes he is too much of a control freak. So you say "I'll just walk Yoongi to his hotel and then get it from there." knowing it will be a ten minute walk, enough for you the feel better. Hoseok seems pleased with your solution, and Yoongi is looking stoic without saying anything.

"Only if that's alright with you, Yoongi!"

"Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Of course it is!" says him as fast as possible.

Both of you walk in silence. You enjoy the cold breeze of the night and the rustling of leaves from the nearby trees and it feels quite peaceful. You hear a chuckle and look up towards Yoongi.

"What's funny?"

"How are you walking so fast? I was told I walk fast, but I feel I am putting some effort to keep up with you." Yoongi answers with another chuckle at the end.

"Ah, sorry! I think it's the wine for my speed and probably for you being a little more slow than the usual."

"Haha, maybe." followed by a long hmmm from him. You wonder what that sound was supposed to mean. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That hmmmm?!"

"Aaaah. I think I make this sound involuntarily when I'm thinking."

"Hmmm, I see. Hmmmmmm." You slightly mock the sound he made.

"Want to know what I am thinking about?"

You feel a trap, but you answer with "sure" anyways.

"I'm thinking…" he takes a moment before continuing "we definitely need to drink more water."

You agree, and as you see the hotel getting closer you get your phone and type in your address, ready to call for an uber. As you reach the hotel, you panic a little bit as no uber accepts your order. Yoongi stops next to you and asks if everything is alright.

"Yeah, but I think it takes a bit longer to get an uber at this hour."

"Hmm. I'll wait with you then."

"Don't worry, Yoongi. We have a long day tomorrow, I'll be fine. I'm sure someone will accept eventually."

"Don't say nonsense, I can't leave you by yourself. I would actually suggest to get into to lobby, drink something until your ride arrives."

You don't argue with that and feel a bit softer on the inside hearing that from him. You wonder why did you expect him to be less friendly. So you get inside, ask for some water at the still open bar and sit with Yoongi, talking about some of the countries he visited, and checking from time to time your phone.

15 minutes later a driver finally accepts your order, he is 3 minutes away. You let Yoongi know, and stand up, grabbing your bag. He follows you towards the exit and as you sit next to each other, he puts a hand on your shoulder, leaving it there for a bit too long, but you think about all the alcohol that was in his organism and try to not pay it attention. But the next thing surprises you, as the car stops in front of you, Yoongi closes the distance between you two with a small kiss on your cheek. "See you tomorrow! Yeah?"

"Mhm. See you tomorrow!" and you rush to the car. Was that something? It couldn't be. Your heart beats fast as you make comfortable in your sit. Maybe that's how he is with other people, friendly, french people always kiss each other on both cheeks when meeting. You try your best for the next 20 minutes to bring some sense to yourself and stop building expectations. As you get into your apartment, you check your phone one more time, and you have 3 new messages. One from Hoseok, one from your sister and one from Yoongi. All of them asking the same thing: "Have you arrived home?" you quickly send a Yes to all of them, and place your phone down trying to stop thinking about Yoongi.

"Shower and water, now." you say to yourself focusing on the moment.

The next morning brings a new sense of relief as it would have been the last day of work activities. Most important it will be just half of day, the rest being for the other people to visit your city on their own before leaving.

You get ready, read some e-mails on your way towards your first stop of the day, the coffee shop. This day required your favourite beverage, Iced Americano, before meeting with the others. After sipping the cold drink, you feel more ready to tackle this day, more prepared to block any Yoongi related thoughts.

At the office, everyone seemed to have the same need for coffee as you, as you found almost all of them around the coffee machine. Good thinking in getting your drink from another place. You greet everyone and try to wiggle your way to your place in the meeting room through the crowd. Not even placing your stuff on the table, you hear Hoseok asking you:

"It's october, I can't believe you bought an Iced Americano again. How could you drink that even now?"

"Hoseok, I already told you. This Iced Americano is the only coffee that I enjoy, so leave me alone and drink your bitter double espresso." You say in a jokingly manner, not realising Yoongi was behind you.

"Where did you get that?" he asks.

Startled, you give your answer, telling him about the coffee shop 10 minutes away from there. He looks at his watch and groans as you were supposed to start in just a few minutes the meeting. Yoongi takes the sit next to you and turns to face you: "Could you give me just one sip, I really don't like this coffee." whispers he pointing to the small cup in front of him.

You take your place and confused at his request you push your cold cup towards him. As he takes it from your hand, his fingers brush slightly over yours which brings some goosebumps up your arms. As fast as possible you start pulling out your stuff from your bag, looking down on your notebooks, sure that your cheeks were more rosy than the usual.

Yoongi groans a little after tasting the coffee "This is so good! You need to show me this place, Y/N?"

"I know, they have the best coffee. I'll give you the address later if you want to get one in our break."

He answers just with a mumble that you don't understand, getting another sip before giving your drink back.

For the next two hours of the workshop, Yoongi keeps on brushing in unintentional ways his arm against yours. You try to move yourself to give him more space to move when he explains his ideas, but somehow, each time he requires more space. By the end of the meeting you realise that you closed the distance between your chair and the empty one on your left. You sigh and think that these touchy people will drive you nuts one day. You don't enjoy being touched, you could even say you despised it. Not really, you like hugs from your favourite people and even cuddling. But with people close to you, not everyone. And this thing with Yoongi, it just fuels something that shouldn't be fueled.

The coffee break starts, you grab what is left of your iced drink and go to grab a mini croissant looking at the other people talking, forming small groups. You see Hoseok, Yoongi and other two people talking, and notice how Yoongi kind of retreats each time one of the other guys tries to touch him on his arm. You chuckle to yourself and wonder if he realises that he did the same to you. Your thoughts are interrupted by Hoseok who makes a gesture to join them. As you reach them he grabs your hand, telling the others how you don't like being touched by people, only if you know them for some time.

Once again you wonder what is with all these strange conversations these people have. You care a lot about Hoseok, but sometimes you want to punch him because making people aware of your quirks it's not on his employee responsibilities. But you knew him for such a long time, him actually being the one who recommended you for an interview at your actual company, so… you had enough time to get used to him.

"I am the same." answers Yoongi and it surprises you and start thinking if you should deconspire him or not. You decide not, but comment "Well, some people are more used to this and others are not. I think it's related a bit if you are in a relationship or not. If you've been in a relationship for a long time, it's probably more comfortable to be so touchy." You look at Hoseok, him being the first example for your statement. He nods and continues the talk, giving it a new twist. You've been always impressed with his way of making the conversation go into the whatever direction he wanted.

In your mind though, the thing Yoongi said about not liking being touched took a sit. The internal debate starting. He was so touchy, but he doesn't like being touched. Probably just lied, you think to yourself.

The rest of the programme passes smoothly, and at the end of it Hoseok asks how long everyone is going to be in the city. Most of them answer that they'll be leaving in a few hours or tonight.

"What about you, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks seeing he was the only one not answering.

"Actually, I'll be staying for a few more days to visit. If you have recommendation or want to plan anything, let me know."

"Oh, cool. For sure we'll plan something, I promised to show you to that Korean bbq place."

You follow the exchange in silence, until you hear your name called by Hoseok once again. "Y/N, let's organise with our team to see who would want to get together these days."

Nodding, you sigh at another event you need to be in charge of. It might be something informal, but you're so tired of so much socialisation. You just want a cozy night, some music and silence.

Maybe Yoongi felt your resentment that he announces that it could be the smaller team, no need in putting any effort into it. You look at him, smiling, grateful for his suggestion.

After all the other details have been discussed and all being done, almost all the guests left. You gather your notebook and laptop, getting ready to leave to your desk. By the door there is a small group of people still talking, as you pass by them you feel your elbow softly grabbed by someone, expecting to be Hoseok, you put your bored face: "What is it?"

"Hmmm."

Before you get to turn to look at him, you realise by the sound that is Yoongi, but the feeling stays the same.

"I was wondering if you could show me that coffee shop, maybe eat something there if they have any food?" asks him. You were hungry and the rumble in your stomach definitely approves his idea at the thought of those tasty sandwiches.

Your other coworkers get behind him: "What a great idea, Yoongi! We need to get some food, we're so hungry."

You follow the group who comes with new ideas for where to get lunch, finally deciding on another place.

"Hmmmm. Still, I think I want to get to that coffee shop. What about you Y/N?" "Yeah. I was kind of set on a sandwich from there and another coffee is more than welcome." you answer.

"Alright, then we'll meet back at the office. Yoongi, you're free to come also, if you don't have any other plans yet." says one in the group.

"Thanks, I'll think about it."

Now, with just the two of you, the conversation flows smoothly, with Yoongi asking about what he should visit next, where should he eat and what other activities you recommend until you reach the coffee shop.

He orders first "Two iced americano and two sandwiches!"

"Hei, I can order on my own." you pout.

"Well, I drank at least half of your morning coffee, so at least let me get that for you."

You try to convince him that isn't necessary, but he does not listen. Eventually, you give up, getting your food and drink and placing them on the small table next to the window. Yoongi follows you, sitting next to you.

"Why don't you sit in front of me? It's more space…" you ask, at which he just shrugs not bothering to answer and taking a bite.

"You were right Y/N, this place has great sandwiches and the best iced americano I've drank in this city.

You wonder "Have you been here before, in our city, I mean?"  "Yeah, a few times."

"Then why ask for places to visit. There not that much to see here."

"Hmmm." again that hmm, which you need to recognise, you were getting quite addicted to it.

"I wanted to hear about the places you like, so… yeah." follows Yoongi looking into your eyes. Your heart skips a beat and your cheeks are definitely red. Not knowing what to answer, you mumble a yeah and sip from your coffee.

Almost done with your meal you ask: "So Yoongi, you're coming to the office after we finish here?"

"You want me to come?" you almost choke at his come at his question, wondering if you're insane or if he is indeed in a flirty mood. You feel the need to step back a bit and tell him that is his choice, not yours.

"Alright, but I'll see you this evening. We are meeting at that restaurant Hoseok was telling us about. Yeah?"

"I'll think about it, I still need to catch up with some work."

"Hmmm. Y/N…. " mumbles he disapproving.

"Alright, alright. Let's get going now and I'll think about it."

He pulls a large smile, and slightly nudges you with his shoulder. "Good."

The day passes fast, still wondering if you should meet with the other for dinner. Noticing your excitement to meet Yoongi, you wonder if that's a good thing or not. He is just a friendly person, and the attention he's giving you makes you overthink this situation. But by the end of the work day, Hoseok and the others just assume you're coming, taking you with them and it's too late to back off now.

Arriving at the restaurant, Yoongi was already waiting for all of you sited at a table of six. Why does he look even more handsome and at the same time cute in this dimmed light. You place yourself strategically on the diagonal side of him so you could focus more on your discussion started with your friends from the office. This dinner not being a project meeting, your favourite coworkers could join. You are feeling more comfortable in this environment, with people you knew for a long time, so you laugh, and you drink, bottling up the small crush that was unfolding in the afternoon. But from time to time you throw a glance at Yoongi, and all you could think is how adorable he looks laughing and enjoying himself.

Around 9 pm you decide it's time to wrap up and go home, this was wholesome and fun, but tomorrow is Friday, another work day. You announce the others and grab your bag to leave, taking a last look at Yoongi, knowing you might not see him in person for a while.

"I'm really glad you came after all, Y/N!" said Yoongi as he gets up to give you a hug.

"Me too, Yoongi! Enjoy your stay here and have a safe trip." he squeezes you once more before letting you leave.

Why do even his hugs feel great, you think to yourself while getting into the uber.

Your phone pings noticing you got a message, it's Hoseok. The text is stupid, just a line of question marks and you think he might had a drink or two too much and ignore him for now. But five pings later you check the chat again to see what does he want.

Hoseokeeee: ????????? It's something going on? You and Yoongi? What is going on? Y/N? ????????

You: ???????????? What are you even saying????

Hoseokeeee: The hug????

You: What about it? He was just saying goodbye?!

Hoseokeeee: Y/N????? I know him for more than 3 years. He never hugs anyone, he barely shakes hands with us

You: ????? whaaaat??? Maybe he just felt friendly tonight, will probably hug you too

Hoseokeeee: We left! NOOO HUUUG he did gave us a handshake, but yet I am really suspicious! (detective emoji)

You: Ok. Maybe if you didn't leave all at the same time, he would have hugged you

Hoseokeeee: I don't want him to hug me

You: Yeah, sure (heart emoji) But honestly, don't overthink it. Nothing it's going on

Now you are the one who overthinks it. Is something really going on?

Barely getting any sleep, the morning arrives and you're tired and groggy and in desperate need of coffee. A large Iced Americano for you today.

At the office you are glad everyone seems to be on occupied with their own business, not even Hoseok tries to open the last night discussion, not even at lunch. At least there's that, and you think to yourself that everything is fine and nothing is going on actually. But the universe has a funny way of blowing up your life conclusion, as a message from Yoongi appears on your screen.

Min Yoongi: Hi! Tonight there's a opening of this gallery, and has some paintings by O'Keeffe exposed. Would you like to go?

First you wonder how did he recall about O'Keeffe, you don't even remember mentioning this artists name ever. Second you panic and your mind runs at full speed. Thirdly you wonder if he invited other people and you glance at Hoseok's desks.

You breath in, get up and go to your friend, your always and forever adviser in this matters. You don't say anything, but show him the message. He looks confused at you, then checks his phone, refreshing the chat app.

He gets up and you take his place. "Hoseok, what is going on?!"

"You tell me Y/N?!"

"Does it seem I know. You two are friends, I am just the new confused girl. Did he ever told you anything? Please, think carefully."

"Well, it was this time… but no, I don't think it's related. Or that time…" he keeps mumbling things like that until it annoys you.

"Hoseok!!!!" It gets him out of the memory digging. "I don't even know what to answer."

"If you ask me, it's just a gallery visit. It's not anything to worry about, maybe he just thought you would be the only interested and that's why you're the only one that he asked."

"Okay, that makes me feel a little bit better." you answer going back to your desk. "I'll think about it then."

Hoseok leans back in his chair, studying you carefully. "You like him, don't you?"

You blink, caught off guard by his directness. "I… I don't know. I mean, he's nice and we get along, but…"

"But?" Hoseok presses gently.

"But he's from another country, and it's complicated," you finish, feeling a bit flustered.

Hoseok chuckles. "Complicated is your middle name, Y/N. Look, if you want my advice, just go. Enjoy the evening. If nothing else, you get to see some great art. And if something more happens, well, you can deal with it then."

You nod, feeling a bit more settled. "Okay, I'll go."

"You do that, Y/N." said Hoseok with a grin, but try to not pry into that. Hoseok was always a step ahead of you, having the overview of every situation. So if he thinks it's not a big deal, then probably isn't.

You: Hi! Sure, sounds nice. Meet you there at 8?

Min Yoongi: Awesome!

Your focus for the day was gone, your mind going at full speed about your outfit, hair and make up, how to get to the gallery and counting the minutes until the end of the work day. You felt excited, the only thing that kept you relatively grounded were Hoseok's words: "Don't overthink it." You opt for a black simple yet elegant outfit, something that strikes the right balance between professional and casual.

Arriving at the gallery, you spot Yoongi waiting near the entrance, looking effortlessly stylish. As you approach, he greets you with a warm smile.

"Hi, Y/N. You look great."

"Thanks, Yoongi. You too," you reply, feeling a slight blush rise to your cheeks.

The gallery is buzzing with people, all eager to see the new exhibit. Yoongi leads you through the crowd, guiding you to the section featuring Marino's paintings.

As you stand side by side, admiring the artwork, you find yourself relaxing and enjoying the moment. Yoongi's presence is comforting, and the conversation flows easily as you discuss the various pieces and their interpretations.

"Thank you for inviting me," you say after a while. "I really enjoyed this and the wine is good."

Yoongi turns to you, his eyes softening. "I'm glad you came. I knew you'd like it."

Baffled by his assured statement you ask: "How could you know?"

He doesn't answer, but comes closer to you, slowly placing his hand on your waist to turn you around to face a blue and green painting. You get a bit closer to read the name, with Yoongi's hand still on your waist.

"It's called Blue and green music, it reminded me of you."

You scrunch your nose, you like the painting, you like everything done by O'Keefe, but this is dark, complicated and being called that felt a bit weird. "How so?"

"Well, it shows passion, strength, vibrant vulnerability, all in harmony. I feel that's you." said Yoongi, looking ahead at the painting.

Feeling the warmth of Yoongi's hand on your waist, you take a deep breath, absorbing his words. The painting indeed captures a depth that resonates with you. "Passion and strength", you murmur, with your gaze fixated on the painting. "I never thought of myself that way."

Yoongi's eyes finally meet yours, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "Well, you are. Y/N. More than you know."

"Thank you" you whisper, your voice barely audible above the hum of the gallery crowd. "That means a lot."

His smile widens, eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's just the truth." He takes a step back, his hand slipping from your waist but leaving behind a trail of warmth. "Come on, there's more I want to show you."

As you walk side by side, the conversation flows naturally, each painting sparking new topics and reflections. His knowledge of art and every other subject that comes up, fascinates you. You even forgot about your thoughts about this not being a date, you really hope it is now.

Yoongi leads you to a quieter corner a small table is set up with some desserts and more wine. Grabs two glasses, giving one to you with a soft smile on his face. "Have you ever been on this building rooftop?"

"Yeah, a long time ago. Have you?" and he shakes his head. He takes your hand, leading you through the crowd and corridors until you reach a staircase that leads up to the roof.

The night air is cool and refreshing as you step out onto the rooftop. The city sprawls out before you, lights looking mesmerizing. You walk to the edge, letting this moment bring a sense of peace to you.

"It's beautiful." he says softly, his hand brushing against yours.

"It is, and the company makes it even better." you turn to look at him and notice a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart beat fast.

He places a hand on your shoulder, bringing you closer to him. You raise a bit on your heels, but you stumble as someone yells in the distance that you're not allowed on the rooftop. You laugh and place a hand on Yoongi's chest. "You heard him, we need to leave."

As you step back into the gallery, both of you laugh about the interruption. The energy from earlier dissipated. You and Yoongi share a comfortable silence as you make your way through the nearly empty space. "Looks like we're some of the last ones here."

"Hmmm. It's been so nice. Thank you for joining me." mentions Yoongi as both of you step out of the building.

"Thank you for inviting me. I had a great time." You smile, feeling warmth engulfing you once again this night.

Yoongi hesitates for a moment "I don't want this night to end, but it's late and I don't want to ruin your sleep more as it's already 2 pm. But can I see you tomorrow too?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words and a big smile crosses your face. "I'd like that."

He waits with you until your ride home arrives. When he sees the car pulling in front of you, he leans in and gives you a gentle kiss on the cheek. He closes the door of the car behind you, waving as he watches it departing. You watch him until he's out of sight, your heart still racing.

The next morning you wake up with a sense of anticipation and excitement. It doesn't take long as a sense of reality crashes over you, realising what are you actually doing. He is someone you work with, he leaves in a few days. The best you could figure it out is seeing each other a few times a year. Everything feels kind of hopeless. As you go on with your morning, this feeling doesn't disappear whatever spin you try on the matter. You even try to think about what would Hoseok would say. Probably "Don't complicate it and don't overthink it." It was a bit too late for that.

Last night was so amazing, it felt so good, you felt so connected to him, so interesting and appreciated. But now, the practicalities loom large, casting a shadow over the happiness.

Your phones pings and the screen lights up. Min Yoongi: Good morning. Want to grab lunch together later?

You: Yeah

Min Yoongi: Awesome!

You: There's a nice place in the city center. I'm sending you the address.

Min Yoongi: Great! See you there.

You don't text back, still with some remnants of anxiety. You decide to let it happen, not think about the future and to enjoy as much as you can this moment the universe placed in front of you.

Another ping on the phone follows.

Min Yoongi: Can't wait to see you again. (star emoji)

Why is he so cute, you sigh and smile, sending back the same text.

You hide your doubts, and cover them with a cute outfit in light colours. "You can do this, Y/N, you can do it!" you say encouraging yourself before leaving for the restaurant.

Yoongi was already there, waiting inside. His smile brightens as he sees you, welcoming you with a kiss on the cheek.

"Hey" you reply, feeling again that flutter in your chest, now more sure than ever that you are able to enjoy this.

The restaurant is charming, with a warm and inviting atmosphere. As you look over the menu together, Yoongi leans in and says: "You look amazing. Last night a black cat and now a white cat."

You laugh at his statement, you always thought he resembled a cat with his sharp eyes. "You look great too. And I think you're actually the cat here."

He chuckles at your response.

As you order your food, the conversation flows easily. You talk about everything and nothing, just enjoying each other's company. Yoongi shares stories from his travels, and you tell him about your latest project at work. The doubts you had earlier seem to fade away, replaced by the warmth of the moment.

After lunch you suggest, "How about we go for walk in the park, I think there is some immersive art installation in the nearby one." He agrees, seeming excited about the idea. The walk through the park is pleasant and as you reach the art installation you both start to fool around, feeling like children.

The first one you try is this huge piano that you can walk on. You jump first on it trying to play Twinkle Twinkle Little star, being the only song you know the key notes too. Yoongi follows you trying to help you with your song, but ends up crashing into you. You try to gain your balance, but he has other plans wrapping his arms around you before he falls.

"Yoongi, what are you doing?"

"What were you trying to play?"

"Twinkle Twinkle"

"That was definitely not it" he laughs brushing your hair of your face as you try to get up. You extend an arm to help him up too, he grabs it and doesn't let go, having you follow him in his steps trying to play the correct version of the song.

"Is this what were you trying to play, Y/N?" you nod, following his steps carefully.

"Now I know how to properly play this" you laugh as Yoongi pulls you into a side hug, leading you to check the other installations.

You find an installation that is called Dark Matter, and described as dark room, with meticulously composed soundtracks, fusing with gleaming shapes and colours. "This might take a while, but would you like to try it?" you ask Yoongi.

Both of you find seats in the dimly lit first room. It's pitch dark, and you can't see anyone else, but the rustling of clothes and whispers around you assure you that you're not alone. The anticipation builds as the music starts, and the play of lights begins to dance around the room. You're immediately drawn into the immersive experience, completely forgetting everything else around you.

Amidst the sensory overload of sound and light, you suddenly feel a gentle movement on your pinky finger. It's Yoongi's finger, lightly playing with yours in a tender gesture. He then wraps his finger around yours, intertwining them gently. Your heart starts beating fast at the small gesture and you stay like this until the end of the show.

Stepping outside the building you notice that the night was closing in, typical for mid autumn when the sun sets earlier. You take a look at Yoongi and hear his thinking sound "Hmmmm. I think I know how to solve our problem from yesterday."

"What problem?"

"The rooftop problem. There's a bar nearby on a rooftop, great atmosphere. Want to go there?"

"Sure, lead the way. You're quite the local. You know that?"

Yoongi laughs. "Not really, but I know some good places around." He gently takes your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours, making you blush at his newfound assertiveness over the past few hours. As you walk through the busy streets, Yoongi's hand in yours feels warm and reassuring. You contemplate how in his presence, everything seems to slow down and becomes more manageable. You steal glances at him from time to time, admiring his calm demeanor contrasting with the urban chaos around. Finally, you arrive at the bar. The entrance is tucked away in a quieter corner, yet the rooftop promises a good view. Yoongi lets you first climb the stairs, following closely behind. As you reach the top, you take a sit at a table next to the edge, giving you the best view. Mesmerized by the view, you affirm it "The view is amazing."

"I thought you'd enjoy it" Yoongi replies, a soft smile playing on his lips as he pulls out a chair for you. "What would you like to drink?"

"I think I might need something different than wine" you ponder. The waiter comes before you could decide so you let Yoongi order first, he gets some red wine.

"I see you have Hibiki, could I get some with a large ice cube?" this drink always made you feel a more confident in yourself and sweeps away a big part of your insecurities.

Yoongi looks at you with big eyes and a huge grin on his face, which makes you feel self-conscious about your drink choice. You recall how people often comment or poke fun at your preference, and now you feel the need fort that drink more than ever. You look at the city unraveling before your eyes to clear your head, letting some silence sit between you and Yoongi.

As the drinks arrive, you feel a surge of enthusiasm as you take your first sip. The fiery warmth of the liquied plays with the coolness of the ice, creating a unique sensation that you like. For you it's not so much about the taste as it is about that intriguing combination. Feeling satisfied with your drink and the courage it brought, you glance at Yoongi. He still gazes at you with those dark wide eyes, prompting you to say "Go ahead, you can judge me all you want, but I enjoy what I enjoy."

"I'm not judging you, I liked your choice." takes a sip of his wine, licking his lips. "Can I have a taste?"

"Sure" you push your glass towards him. He moves his chair closer to yours and settles down, placing his hand over yours, which is still wrapped around the cold glass. "Can I have a taste" he asks again, now a bit more clear, looking into your eyes and then down to your lips.

You feel flustered, goosebumps rising all over your body. Raising the glass to your lips, you try to mantain eye contact as you take another sip, letting the liquid slide down your throat. Everything seems to move in slow motion.

Setting your glass down, you feel Yoongi closing the distance between you. He hovers with his lips just above yours for a moment before pressing them gently against yours. The kiss is slow and tender, sending a wave of warmth through your body. His hand reaches your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your hand goes up to caress his face as you give access to his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth. It gets more passionate by the second, with the other hand of Yoongi going to your hip, making you slip a moan into his mouth. Getting a low groan out of him. You slowly start to feel out of air and as much as you don't want to, you interrupt the kiss.

Refiling your lungs with air, you look at Yoongi who appears still focused on your lips. Bringing his hand up your neck, you let his thumb gently play with your bottom lip. "Tasty"

You chuckle at his assessment, giving him another taste. This time, the kiss is more eager, both of you, trying to get as much as you can out of each other.

"I've wanted to do that, since I first saw you on Monday, you know?!"

Completely shocked by his words, you pull back slightly. "Don't look at me like that." he continues "I've been flirting with you for months, but you've been so dismissive that I thought it was a lost cause. Until I saw you in person. After talking with Hoseok about you, giving me some insights, I knew I had to keep trying. I am convinced now it was a good decision…"

"Wait, wait. What do you mean months? What about Hoseok? What are you even saying now?" you stop him from his rambling to bring you some clarity.

Yoongi takes a deep breath, rubbing his thumb over your hand gently. "We've been working together online for a while, and I've always admired you from a distance. I tried to drop hints, little comments here and there, but you never seemed to notice."

"What about Hoseok?"

"He and I talked about it, and he encouraged me to be more direct. He mentioned that you tend to not notice when someone likes you. He thought we'd be a good match."

You blink in surprise, processing his words. "Hoseok said that?"

"Yeah," Yoongi nods. "He said you were amazing and worth the effort. So, when this trip came up, I saw it as my chance."

In your mind all the mixed messages that Hoseok gave you regarding Yoongi started to make sense. He wanted to push you to try this thing, but not be too direct because he knew you'd get scared and run from it.

A mix of emotions swirls within you "I had no idea."

Yoongi smiles, and his eyes do too. "Well, now you do." He cups your face with both his hands placing a loud kiss on your lips.

The evening goes on, filled with laughter and tender moments. You both share stories of Yoongi's past attempts at flirting. He recalls a particular video call where he complimented your hairstyle, only for you to brush it off.

"Not going to lie, I was so frustrated," he admits, laughing. " I thought I was so obvious."

"Well, I guess I'm just oblivious," you reply. "I'm glad you didn't give up."

As the night goes on, the atmosphere becomes more intimate. You find yourselves sitting closer, holding hands, and stealing kisses between sips of your drinks. Yoongi leans in to whisper something in your ear, and his breath sends shivers down your spine.

"Do you remember the first project we worked on together?" he asks.

"Yeah, you were so serious and focused." you reply.

"And you were so passionate and creative," he says, his voice soft. "I knew then that I wanted to get to know you better."

After finishing your drinks, Yoongi suggests taking a walk. The night is cool, and the streets are quiet now, creating a nice atmosphere. As you reach his hotel, he says between kisses, "I want to see where this can go."

You look up at him, your heart racing, "Agree."

He smiles, leaning down to kiss you one more time before calling an uber for you. This kiss is slow and sweet. As a driver accepts your ride, being a few minutes away, Yoongi places a soft kiss on your forehead, whispering "Goodnight"

"Goodnight" you answer walking towards the spot where the car should arrive, with your eyes still on Yoongi. He starts walking towards the hotel entrance. In that moment something clicks inside you and press cancel on the ride, striding behind Yoongi.

"Wait", you call out, your voice trembling with nervousness.

He turns around, surprise and hope flickering in his eyes. "Y/N?"

You catch up to him, "I don't want to say goodnight just yet. Can I come up with you?"

Yoongi's smile broadens, and he takes your hand, intertwining your fingers. "I'd like that very much."

Together, you enter the hotel and make your way to his room. The elevator ride is filled with charged silence, both of you stealing glances at each other. When you reach his floor, Yoongi leads you down the hallway to his room. Once inside, you explore his room, passing through straight to the window. His room was situated on the topmost floor of the hotel, you knew it had to be a good view from up there. And you were right, the view was breathtaking presenting the city skyline twinkling under the night sky.

You notice the strategically placed couch in front of the large window, casting a gentle glow from the city lights. "Almost everywhere you took me this week, had a great view of this city that you might not know, I don't quite like. Was this planned?" you ask playfully, turning to Yoongi.

"No plan. I just enjoy a good view and I had a hunch you would do too." he replies casually, moving towards a small bar and pouring some sparkling wine "Feeling festive?"

You laugh, feeling at ease as you take a seat on the couch and wait for Yoongi to join you. The room is dimly lit as he settles next to you, handing you the glass. "From this spot you can see the Orion constellation, it's a bit cloudy, but you can identify the stars and connect them."

You smile, watching Yoongi's eyes fixated on the nightsky, makes you feel warm inside. Leaning in, you place a small kiss on the corner of his lips, catching him by surprise. He gaze shifts from the stars to you. Without hesitation, he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Both of you place your glasses on the small table in front of you. He gently caresses your chin, raising it just slightly towards his. You feel you could get lost into his dark eyes. Yoongi's lips brush against yours in a gentle, exploratory kiss, sending small electric waves in your body.

Wrapped in each other's embrace, you deepen the kiss. Drunk on his touches, you get more courageous, exploring with your hands as much as you could. And he does the same, caressing your waist, while he peppers small kisses on your jaw, going down your neck. You let out a small moan when he bites into your collarbone. Seems like he enjoyed the sound you made, biting the spot again harder this time.  "Ah, Yoongi." The sound snaps something in Yoongi, making him grab and move you to sit on top of him. "I love when you moan my name like that." not leaving time for you to answer kissing your lips eagerly. His hands slowly pull your shirt to sneak beneath it, to touch your skin. A shiver runs down your back feeling his big hand holding you so close to him. His hand guides you to sit more comfortably in his lap and too properly feel how hard he is through your clothes. Another moan gets out of you at the sensation. Hearing him chuckle, you pull at his hair, putting some distance between you two. Allowing yourself for a moment to gain control of the situation, to kiss his jaw and lick at his neck, but it doesn't take long. His fingers start unbuttoning your shirt, getting quickly rid of it. His lips tracing lines along your chest and above your lacy bra.

Feeling on clouds with all the sensations Yoongi brings, you roll your hips onto his to get more out of him. You adore how his voice vibrates on your skin at his small moans and groans.

With a swift movement, he turns both of you around so he could be on top of you. You wonder how can he be so gentle and strong at the same time in his touches.

Before he can go back at licking and sucking on your skin, you try to pull his shirt over. He takes it off fast, allowing you to finally see him. His skins looks so pretty in the dimmed lights, and you can't stop to run your fingers on it, mesmerized by the view.

His attention goes back to your lips, kissing you with such fervor, leaving you breathless. His hand travels down, starting to unbutton your pants. Gaining access, his fingers starts rubbing over your clothed pussy. "You're so wet." he whispers against your lips. "I want to taste you, will you allow me?"

Nodding in approval, too afraid your voice will crack, you wonder how this soft person could be so assertive in this moment. But you can't ponder too much as his lips starts licking at your chest, then going lower. He pulls your pants and panties down in one movement, looking lustfully in your eyes. Without any hesitation he bites onto your thigh, licking and kissing the spot immediately after. Choosing several points to do the same thing, transforming you into jelly under his touches. Finally reaching your pussy, it slowly licks at first, but as your moans get more frequent and louder, he becomes more fast in his treatment.

Once again you find yourself moved by him, bringing your ass the edge of the couch, your back against the backrest. He kneels before you, rubbing your entrance with his fingers then bringing them to your lips to suck on them. " I want the have the best view when I look up from this beautiful pussy."

The sudden confession brings heat to your cheeks, bringing your hands to cover them. Yoongi groans in annoyance, as he pushes his first finger inside you, making you throw your head back at the sensation, forgetting everything about shame.

As he pushes another finger, you moan his name "Yoongi, fuck", and in your desperate need to ground yourself you run your fingers through his dark locks, holding onto them. Yoongi seems pleased, moaning into your cont, sending the vibrations through your whole core.

He spends the following minutes sucking your clit, alternating with biting it softly and with his fingers wrecking your hole. Your hips lift higher and higher to give him the best access, your moans getting louder until you finally come in his mouth, closing your thighs around his head. But it seems Yoongi doesn't mind it as he says "You're such a good girl, coming all over my face."

You're such a mess and you can't believe how those words turned you on so bad. Slowly Yoongi gets up, sitting next to you placing soft kisses on your face as you gather your breath. "You feeling good?"

"Fuck, yeah." you answer in between loud breaths.

He laughs at your response, pulling you into a deep kiss. "I'm feeling good too."

After finally recovering your breath, you slowly get up, wanting to return the favor, going for his pants, unzipping them. But Yoongi allows you just to undress him, before grabbing you into his arms and lifting you up. He places you gently over the soft covers of the bed, then disappears for a second, coming back with a condom in his hand.

"But I want to taste you, Yoongi" you pout, getting another laugh from him. "Not now, you don't want to upset me. Don't you?"

His demeanor in this situation makes you feel so hot on the inside, that you can't contradict anything he says. "Of course not."

"Then be a good girl and spread it for me"

You follow his instruction ready to feel his length inside you.

He pulls you closer to him, pressing his fingers hard into the skin of your ass, making your back arch at the sensation. Bringing your chest back into his attention he places soft kisses on them, before getting one of your buds into his mouth, sucking it.

You feel him pressing the tip inside, not realising until now how big he was. You wince a bit at the discomfort. He pushes in slowly. "Fuck, you're so tight"

"You're so big" you barely breath out the words.

He places soft kisses on your neck until you feel him completely inside you. Letting you get accustomed for a minute. You feel yourself pulsating around him, and wrap your arms around his neck. He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, before starting to move. It feels so good, despite the slight discomfort. But the pain dissipates, replaced by the pleasure. As he starts moving a little faster, you find his lips to signal you're feeling good.

That is all he needs before he thrusts deep, shaking you to your core. Your loud moan is followed by another deep thrust into you, and another, and another, and another until it becomes a rhythm of fucking you relentlessly. This feels so much better than everything you have experienced until now. Your mind goes blank, being able to focus just on his movement and his hands on your waist. A stupid smile crosses your face at the overwhelming sensation.

Once again you're being moved by him, turning both of you around so you're sitting on him. You thought he was deep inside you until now, but you were so wrong. The need to get accustomed to his size appears again, placing a hand on his abdomen to stop him from moving. "You're so fucking big, give me a second".

He plays with your ass, pressing his fingers into your skin and running them along your thighs, until you feel ready to move. You go up and down his cock, feeling your boobs bounce at the movement. Yoongi is looking completely hypnotized. "Touch yourself for me, baby."

Following his instruction, your left hand travels down from your boob to your clit, rubbing it slowly. And your right hand goes to his mouth, asking for some saliva from him. He sucks on your fingers, wrapping his tongue around them.

You pull them out just to touch your tits with them, pinching hard one of the nipples. Yoongi's hands guide your hips in your movements, pushing his cock deep inside you, establishing an insane rhythm.

Sounds from both of you fill the air, moans, groans and whispered obscenities.

"Yoongi, I'm so close."

"Yeah? Then be a good girl and come for me."

Yoongi grips your hips even tighter, thrusting hard, feeling him whole. You fall onto him, unable to keep your balance anymore, giving him access to suck on your nipples. Already lost in all the pleasure waves, you shiver hard when his hand finds your clit and plays with it.

"You're doing so good, baby" whispers into your ear and that was all you needed to come.

"Yeah" you cry out at how good all he says to you makes you feel. You start pulsating hard on his cock, feeling him coming inside with loud moans into your ear.

You take a moment to catch your breath before sliding next to him. He takes you into his arms, placing sweet kisses to your cheeks. You laugh softly, "It felt good"

He doesn't answer but catches your lips into a kiss so deep, and possessive, hinting at how good it felt for him also.

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