#electric sit stand desk

[ergofurnitureau]

Use Heavy Duty Office Chairs - Save Some Money on Office Furniture

For any association or office hoping to get a good deal on office furniture over the long haul, they ought to search for little more than the additional rock solid office seats. The central thing they ought to know ahead of time is that the quality and dependability of these seats enormously fluctuates starting with one model then onto the next. In this way, the significant note here is keep a few focuses in thought before you buy the specific item. This article would likewise help you on how significantly you can augment your utility by buying amazing heavy duty office chairs.

At the point when we purchase something important or which we expect will work for us for an extensive stretch of time, we need to invest an energy in it to search for different assortments and models for that item. Make a web-based look for enrolling the models that you will search for on the lookout. Then you should visit nearby inventory stores to look assuming there is any item or model of your advantage which you can eagerly buy after the common evaluation of your group alongside you.

Presently, as you have seen a portion of the models that are enrolled in your rundown, you should now look at the foundation of each seat cautiously. You should favor the seat that has the star base, as this sort would guarantee the client to keep his weight similarly partitioned across the floor. Any remaining bases like those with three or four legs are not isolating the weight proficiently and will separate a lot quicker over the long run. Regularly produced using metal and not a hard plastic which debilitates more straightforward.

You should likewise search for the firm help that a seat should give you. The seat should bear the tension even the amount you gauge. Finally, you should search for how much help the rear of the seat gives you. A shaky back that is held up with a little hard plastic arm won't keep going extremely lengthy contrasted with one made of steel and is more one with the seat, or even two arms holding the back piece up instead of one. Something else you should bear in mind while buying the hard core office seats, is that you expect to buy one that will help the individual by sitting on it and keeping the right position. This is known as ergonomics and in the event that the seat doesn't have any of these plans at least, than the seat is probable an exercise in futility and cash.

For more details, visit us :

sit stand desk australia

ergonomic mesh office chair

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[purpleark]

The Sit Stand Electric Desk from Purpleark Sit Stand Desk Company is a versatile and user-friendly solution for creating a healthier workspace. The desk is equipped with a powerful electric motor that enables seamless and smooth height adjustments with just the touch of a button. This makes it easy to find your ideal working height, whether you're sitting or standing. For more info please visit www.purpleark.in or call us at +91-9267904392

[shoutsindwarvish]

going back to the office for the first time in a week because of renovations

i spent saturday recovering from my booster (a necessary but Bad Time) and a big chunk of yesterday at rosh hashanah service (wonderful but exhausting)

do NOT want to get out of my comfy warm bed to drive to work, especially just to sit in my new “improved” smaller cubicle with shorter walls

let me sleep 😴

[effydesk]

How to Choose the Right Desk for Your Home Office Space

People are spending more time at their desks than ever before, and this has highlighted the need for solutions to reduce sitting too much. Using a standing desk offers a great way to decrease the health risks associated with prolonged sitting. Switching to a standing desk can improve productivity, boost energy levels, and alleviate some physical discomforts associated with sitting for long periods.

Standing desks come in various designs, from adjustable sit-stand models to fixed-height options. Features like height adjustability, desktop space, and stability are important when selecting the right standing desk. Ensuring the desk is set up correctly can make a big difference in its effectiveness and comfort.

Key Takeaways

Standing desks can enhance productivity and reduce health risks.

Various types of desks cater to different needs and preferences.

Proper setup is crucial for the effectiveness of a standing desk.

Benefits of Standing Desks

Standing desks can significantly improve health, boost productivity, and enhance posture. These benefits are particularly relevant for office workers who use them regularly.

Health Advantages

Standing desks are associated with numerous health benefits. They can help reduce the risk of obesity since standing burns more calories compared to sitting. For example, standing burns about 50 more calories per hour than sitting.

Additionally, standing desks can lower blood sugar levels. Some studies suggest that using a standing desk after lunch can reduce blood sugar spikes. There's also evidence that standing more can reduce the risk of heart disease, as prolonged sitting has been linked to an increased risk of heart problems.

Productivity Boost

Using a standing desk can also improve productivity. Standing desks have been found to boost focus and concentration. Research suggests that employees who use standing desks report better engagement with tasks compared to those who sit all day.

Moreover, standing desks may enhance mood and energy levels. Employees often feel more refreshed and less fatigued when they stand intermittently throughout the day. This increase in energy can lead to higher work output and efficiency.

Posture and Ergonomics

Standing desks can greatly improve posture and ergonomics in the workplace. When adjusted properly, these desks encourage better alignment of the spine and reduce the strain on the neck and back. This ergonomic setup can decrease the likelihood of developing chronic pain, particularly in the lower back.

Properly using a standing desk also promotes regular movement. For example, individuals are more likely to shift their weight and take short walking breaks, which can further alleviate discomfort and prevent muscle and bone problems. Overall, investing in good ergonomics with standing desks can lead to a healthier work environment.

Types of Standing Desks

Standing desks come in various designs, each with unique features, to cater to different needs and preferences. The most common types are manual standing desks, electric standing desks, and convertible desks.

Manual Standing Desks

Manual standing desks are adjusted by hand. Usually, a crank or lever is used to change the height. These desks are often more affordable because they do not have electronic components. They are also reliable and do not need electricity, reducing utility costs over time.

A key advantage is their simplicity and longevity. However, some people might find the manual adjustment process difficult, especially if they need to change the height frequently throughout the day. These desks are well-suited for users who prefer durability and value for money over convenience.

Electric Standing Desks

Electric standing desks use motors to raise or lower the desk surface. This allows for smooth and quick adjustments with the push of a button. These desks are ideal for people who need to switch between sitting and standing positions multiple times during the day.

An excellent example is the Wildwood Desk, which offers built-in wireless charging and different wood types. The convenience of electric desks often means a higher price point. Despite this, the ease of use and advanced features make them popular in professional environments.

Convertible Desks

Convertible desks, also known as sit-stand desks, can transform a regular desk into a standing desk. These are designed to be placed on top of an existing desk and can be adjusted to different heights. They are a cost-effective option for those who do not want to invest in a full standing desk.

These desks are portable and easy to install, making them suitable for offices with limited space. They provide flexibility and are useful for people who are unsure about committing to a standing desk fully. On the downside, they might offer less stability compared to fixed standing desks.

Each type of standing desk has its benefits and trade-offs. The best choice depends on individual needs, preferences, and budget considerations.

Features To Consider

When choosing a standing desk for an office, it's important to look at material, size, adjustability, usability, and extra features. This helps in making an informed decision.

Material and Durability

The material of a standing desk affects how long it lasts and appearance. Common materials include wood, metal, and composite. Solid wood offers a classic look and durability, though it can be heavy. Metal frames provide strength and stability, reducing wobbling during use.

Composite materials are often lighter and more affordable than wood but might not offer the same longevity. Look for desks with sturdy construction and good quality finishes that resist scratches and wear. Checking reviews for any complaints about durability can also be helpful.

Desk Size and Workspace Area

Desk size and workspace area are crucial factors. A desk that's too small can hinder productivity, while one that's too large might not fit well in the available space. Measure the intended location carefully to ensure a good fit.

For those who use multiple monitors or need a lot of paperwork, a larger workspace might be necessary. Smaller models work well for minimalists or those with limited space. Considering the depth and width of the desk helps ensure there's enough room for all necessary equipment.

Height Adjustability

Height adjustability is one of the key features of a standing desk. It allows the user to switch between sitting and standing positions easily. Look for desks with a wide range of height options to accommodate different users.

Manual crank models are typically more affordable but require more effort to adjust. Electric models offer ease of use at a higher price point. Having preset height settings can make adjustments quicker and more convenient, making it easier to maintain ergonomic benefits.

Ease of Use

A standing desk should be user-friendly. Consider how easy it is to transition between sitting and standing. Electric desks often have simple buttons or touchscreen controls for quick adjustments, while manual desks might need more physical effort.

Look for user feedback on how seamlessly the desk operates. Smooth moving parts, intuitive design, and accessibility of controls contribute to a pleasant user experience.

Additional Features

Additional features can enhance the functionality and convenience of a standing desk. Integrated cable management systems help keep the workspace tidy. Some desks come with built-in power strips or USB ports for easy charging of devices.

Other extras like keyboard trays, monitor stands, or even programmable presets for different heights can add significant value. When selecting, think about which features will best support daily work habits and increase productivity. 

How to Choose the Right Desk

Choosing the right desk requires careful consideration of your space, work habits, and budget. The right choice will enhance productivity and comfort.

Assessing Your Space

First, measure your home office space. Make sure there is enough room for a desk without making the area feel cramped. Consider factors such as natural light, the placement of windows, and electrical outlets. A desk should fit well, both physically and aesthetically.

Decide if you need a corner desk, a standing desk, or a basic rectangular one. For limited space, a compact desk could work best. Look for desks with built-in storage or those that allow for additional shelves to maximize space use.

Considering Work Habits

Think about how you work. If you spend long hours at the computer, a desk with adjustable height may help reduce strain. If you need lots of space for papers or multiple monitors, a larger surface area is better.

Evaluate whether you need drawers or filing cabinets to keep documents organized. A clean, clutter-free workspace can boost efficiency. Those who often switch between sitting and standing should consider a standing desk or a desk converter.

Budgeting for Quality

Desks range in price from budget-friendly to high-end. Set a realistic budget based on how much time you spend at your desk. Investing in a high-quality desk can pay off in the long run with better durability and comfort.

Look for desks made from sturdy materials like solid wood or metal. Avoid flimsy materials that may not last. Don't forget to consider used or refurbished options, which can offer high quality at a lower price.

By assessing your space, considering your work habits, and budgeting effectively, you can find a desk that meets your needs and enhances your productivity.

Setting Up Your Standing Desk

Setting up a standing desk involves careful installation, making ergonomic adjustments, and gradually integrating standing into your routine. This helps maximize comfort and productivity.

Proper Installation

To properly set up your standing desk, start by placing it on a stable and level surface. Make sure the desk is at a height where you can stand comfortably with your elbows at a 90-degree angle. Secure all parts according to the manufacturer's instructions to avoid any unexpected movement or instability.

If your desk comes with a manual, follow step-by-step instructions closely. Ensure that all screws and bolts are tightly fastened. Double-check the stability by gently pushing it from different sides. If it wobbles, readjust and tighten the connections.

Remember: A stable setup can prevent accidents and improve your work experience.

Ergonomic Adjustments

Once the desk is securely installed, focus on ergonomics. Place your monitor at eye level to avoid neck strain. The ideal height keeps the top of the screen at or just below eye level. Use a monitor stand if needed.

Position the keyboard and mouse so that your wrists are straight and in-line with your elbows. Consider using an anti-fatigue mat to reduce pressure on your feet when standing. Adjust the height of the desk so your shoulders are relaxed, and elbows are bent at a 90-degree angle.

For further comfort, a footrest can help shift weight and prevent fatigue. Regularly check these adjustments to maintain an ergonomic workspace.

Integrating into Daily Routine

Transitioning to a standing desk should be gradual to avoid discomfort. Start by standing for 15-30 minutes a day and slowly increase the duration. Listen to your body and take breaks when needed.

Alternate between sitting and standing. Consider a 1:1 or 2:1 ratio, where for every 30 minutes of sitting, you stand for 15-30 minutes. This can help ease your body into the new routine and reduce fatigue.

Incorporate movement; walk around or stretch periodically. These habits can improve circulation and reduce the risks associated with prolonged standing.

By following these tips, you can make the most out of your standing desk and enjoy a healthier, more dynamic work environment.

Frequently Asked Questions

Standing desks are becoming more popular in offices as they offer potential health benefits and can boost productivity. The following answers tackle some common questions about their use.

What are the benefits of using a standing desk?

Using a standing desk can help reduce the risk of weight gain and obesity, lower blood sugar levels, and decrease the risk of heart disease. It also may improve mood and energy levels. Many office workers notice less discomfort in the neck and back.

How often should you alternate between sitting and standing at a desk?

Experts recommend switching between sitting and standing every 30 to 60 minutes. This helps to reduce muscle fatigue and promotes better posture. Using a timer can help remind you to change positions regularly.

What is the optimal height for a standing desk based on ergonomic principles?

The optimal height for a standing desk allows your elbows to be at a 90-degree angle while typing. Your computer screen should be at eye level to avoid neck strain. This setup helps maintain a neutral spine position.

Can standing desks help reduce back pain associated with prolonged sitting?

Standing desks can help reduce back pain by encouraging better posture and reducing the strain on your lower back. By allowing more movement throughout the day, they can alleviate pressure on the spine and improve circulation.

What features should one look for when choosing an electric standing desk?

Look for features like programmable height settings, sturdy construction, and quiet motor operation. A spacious work surface and cable management options are also important. These features ensure the desk is both functional and convenient.

How do height adjustable desks impact productivity in the workplace?

Height adjustable desks can improve productivity by reducing discomfort and enhancing employee well-being. Workers are likely to be more focused and energetic. Studies have shown that such desks can lead to better job performance and increased engagement in tasks.

[interiorergonomics]

How Technological Integration Affects Employee Productivity

Let's all agree on how technological integration in a workplace furniture significantly boosts employee productivity. This can be achieved as it streamlines workflows, enhances communication, and automates routine tasks.

Modern office furniture like electric standing desks Dubai and software facilitate efficient collaboration, allowing teams to share information and work together seamlessly, regardless of location. Automation of repetitive tasks like switching from sitting to standing frees up time for employees to focus on higher-value activities. Without any doubt, this increases overall efficiency and reveals the benefit of investing in ergonomic furniture.

Diving deeper to real-time data access and analytics enable informed decision-making to further enhancing productivity. Moreover, technology enhances flexibility, allowing employees to work remotely or adapt to different work environments, which can lead to increased job satisfaction and better work-life balance. By leveraging technology, companies can create a more dynamic, responsive, productive workplace.

Read More:

[powercoreactive]

Elevate Your Workspace: Exploring Innovative Desks with Powercore NZ

In the modern workplace, having the right desk can significantly impact your productivity and well-being. At Powercore NZ, we offer a diverse selection of top-quality desks designed to meet the needs of today's professionals. Let's take a closer look at our range:

Desks NZ: Discover our comprehensive collection of desks, featuring a variety of styles and designs to suit any workspace requirement.

Standing Desk: Experience the benefits of improved posture and increased energy levels with our standing desks.

Sit Stand Desk: Find the perfect balance between sitting and standing with our sit-stand desks, designed for flexibility and comfort.

Electric Standing Desk: Effortlessly adjust your desk height with our electric standing desks, providing convenience and ergonomic support.

Height Adjustable Desk: Achieve optimal comfort and ergonomics with our height-adjustable desks, allowing you to customize your workspace to your preferences.

Rising Desk: Transition seamlessly between sitting and standing positions with our rising desks, featuring smooth and silent mechanisms.

At Powercore NZ, we're dedicated to providing high-quality desks that enhance both productivity and comfort in the workplace. Visit our website today to explore our full range and elevate your workspace experience.

[ohxfurniture]

OHX Eletric Standing Desk- White

[tryingsofter]

Contemporary Home Office Photo of a spacious, modern study room with a built-in desk and carpet, white walls, and no fireplace

[yuriandtea]

San Francisco Home Office Built-In Study room - large contemporary built-in desk carpeted study room idea with white walls and no fireplace

[pucksandpower]

Hey Natalia, hope you’re doing good ❤️ Please could I request enemies to lovers with Max. You’re constantly at each other’s throats in front of everyone and Christian has had enough of your shit and demands to see you in the office. But when you continue to fight, he’s like nah I don’t wanna be involved, sort your shit out together and leaves. And you end up fucking on his desk and after you’re suddenly super friendly around eachother. Thank you lovely! xxx

Whiplash

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: You and Max discover that there is a thin line between lust and hate

Warnings: 18+ content

You storm into Christian’s office, scowling as Max follows right behind you. He slams the door shut and you both take a seat across from Christian, refusing to even look at each other.

“I’m sure you both know why I called you in here,” Christian says sternly. “The tension between you two has gone too far. It’s affecting the team and we can’t have that.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “Why don’t you talk to him about it then? I’m not the problem here.”

Max scowls. “Oh please, don’t pretend like you’re so innocent. You’ve been nothing but hostile towards me since the start of the season.”

“Only because you did the same!” You retort. “I was nothing but nice when I first joined the team. You’re the one with the attitude problem.”

“Enough!” Christian shouts, silencing you both. “I don’t care who started it. I’m ending it. We’re in the middle of a championship fight and I need my drivers to work together, not against each other.”

You sink lower in your chair, still refusing to look at Max. The animosity radiates off of him in waves.

“Now you’re going to stay in here until you work this out,” Christian says firmly. “I don’t care if it takes all night. Fix this mess or both of your seats are on the line.”

He heads for the door and you spring up from your chair. “You can’t be serious!”

“Deadly,” Christian replies before shutting the door. You hear the lock click into place from the outside.

You jiggle the handle and pound on the door. “Let us out!”

No response.

He’s really done it, that bastard. Locked you in a room alone with your most hated rival.

You take a deep breath before turning around. Max sits there glaring at you, jaw clenched. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters.

“For once we agree on something,” you snap.

His glare hardens. “Don’t pretend you’re blameless. You’ve been nasty since you got here.”

You storm over to him. “Because you decided to hate me from day one! I tried to be nice but you were so damn hostile. What’s your problem with me anyway?”

Max stands up abruptly, getting in your face. “My problem is you waltzing in here like you own the place when I’m the number one driver.”

You shove him in the chest. “Get over yourself! I earned my spot here.”

He shoves you back. “You don’t deserve to be here.”

Your blood boils as you stare him down. God he’s infuriating. And stubborn as hell. You doubt you’ll ever get him to admit any fault in this situation.

“Well I’m not going anywhere so I guess you’ll just have to get used to it,” you snap.

Max steps even closer, eyes blazing. Your noses nearly touch from how close he stands. “Is that so?” His voice comes out low, almost husky.

A shiver runs down your spine but you keep glaring at him. “Yeah, that’s so.”

You expect him to shoot back some nasty retort. Instead his eyes flick down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your heated gaze again.

Suddenly the energy shifts between you. The anger and tension remains but it transforms into something more primal. More dangerous.

Your breaths come heavier as electricity crackles in the nonexistent space left between you. Max’s pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling as rapidly as your own.

“I ...” Your voice comes out hoarse. “We should ...”

But neither of you make any move to step away. Without thinking your tongue darts out to wet your dry lips. Max tracks the movement with his intense stare.

“Fuck it,” he growls before crashing his mouth onto yours.

You gasp into the kiss and he takes advantage, deepening it. His hands grasp your hips roughly as he walks you backwards until your back hits the wall.

You barely process what’s happening. One second you were at each other’s throats, the next his body is pressing urgently against yours.

A moan escapes you when his lips move to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin there and you thread your fingers into his hair.

“This is insane,” you pant out even as you tug him closer.

“I know,” Max breathes against your neck. His hands skim up your sides, pushing up your shirt. “I hate you.”

“I hate you more.” You crash your lips together again, tasting blood when you nip at him.

Max groans into your mouth as your tongues slide together. He hitches one of your legs around his hip, grinding against you.

You break the kiss to tip your head back, moaning at the feeling. Fuck, you despise this man, but right now you need him more than anything.

His hips keep up that delicious friction as he mouths at your collarbone. “I’m still going to beat you,” he rasps out.

You smirk, nails digging into his shoulders. “In your dreams.”

Max’s eyes darken at your taunt. Without warning, he grips your thighs and lifts you onto Christian’s desk. You gasp as he pushes between your legs, his growing arousal obvious.

“Careful what you wish for,” he murmurs before crushing his mouth to yours once more.

You moan into the frenzied kiss, tongues tangling as you tug at his hair. His hands slide up your thighs, fumbling with the button of your jeans to push them down around your ankles. You wrap your legs around him, pulling him against your heated core.

Even through the layers of clothing you can feel how hard he is. You rock your hips, desperate for more friction. Max groans and moves his lips to your neck, nipping down to your collarbone.

Your head tips back as his fingers dance up your sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of your breasts. “God, I hate you so much,” you moan.

“I know.” His voice comes out rough, filled with lust.

Impatient, you reach for the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it aside. Your eyes rake over his muscular chest and arms. Unable to resist, you lean in and scrape your teeth over his nipple.

Max hisses in a breath, hands clenching on your hips. “Fuck ...”

You grin, laving your tongue over the sensitive nub as your fingers move to his belt buckle. With shaky hands you get it open and reach into his boxers, fingers wrapping around his thick length.

He shudders against you. “Shit, Y/N ...”

You stroke him firmly, reveling in the moans and curses falling from his lips. His own hands move under your shirt, palming your breasts through your bra.

It’s not enough. You strip off your shirt and reach back to unclasp your bra. Max wastes no time dipping his head to capture one of your nipples between his lips.

“Oh god ...” you gasp, back arching into him. His teeth and tongue work over your sensitive peaks until you’re writhing beneath him.

The sound of voices outside the door makes you both freeze. Fuck. The race weekend is still going on around you. Anyone could walk by and hear what’s happening.

You meet Max’s heated gaze. “We should stop,” you pant out half-heartedly.

His eyes blaze with defiance and lust. “No fucking way.”

Before you can react he drops to his knees, grasping your hips to pull you towards the edge of the desk.

Max tugs strongly on your lacy underwear until it gives way at the seams, baring you to him. He pauses to appreciate the view, eyes roaming hungrily over your glistening folds.

“I’m still going to beat you tomorrow,” he rasps.

You tug on his hair impatiently. “Just get on with it before we get caught.”

With a wicked grin he dives in, mouth latching onto your throbbing clit. You cry out, quickly slapping a hand over your own mouth.

You fumble with his belt, desperate to feel him. Max groans as you wrap your hand around his length.

“Fuck, just like that,” he groans against your skin, increasing the rhythm of his tongue in response. The desk rocks dangerously beneath you but neither of you slow your ministrations.

You whimper his name, pleasure building steadily under his expert touch. The fingers of one hand twist in his hair while you keep your other hand moving up and down in measured strokes as you near the edge.

“Look at me,” Max commands raggedly. You open your eyes to meet his wild gaze. The connection between you crackles.

“Max ...” you gasp as your climax crashes over you. You slap a hand over your lips, muffling your cries.

As you float back down, Max withdraws his mouth. You keen at the loss but then he’s lining himself up at your entrance. Gripping your hip tightly, he pushes inside in one smooth motion.

You cling to his shoulders, nails digging in as you adjust around him. Max trembles with restraint, giving you a moment before he starts to move.

Then he sets a relentless pace, the desk slamming against the wall with each powerful snap of his hips. You wrap your legs around him, spurring him even deeper.

Max pounds into you relentlessly, wrenching desperate moans from your lips. You’re vaguely aware of picture frames and papers tumbling to the floor around you but the chaos only adds to the thrill.

You’re close, the pressure building deep inside. With a few more well-angled thrusts you topple over the edge, coming hard around him. Your breasts bounce as your back arches sharply off the desk.

“There you go, princess,” Max rasps. He continues driving into your spasming center until his rhythm turns choppy and erratic.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Max grits out. You clench around him, greedy for his release. His hips stutter and then he spills inside you with a guttural groan. The sensation pushes you over the edge again, your vision whiting out from the intensity.

Breathing raggedly, Max collapses on top of you, pinning you to the desk. You’re both slick with sweat and utterly spent, your heart rates slowly returning to normal. You run your fingers through his damp waves soothingly.

The room is silent save for your heavy breathing. As the haze of lust clears, the ramifications of what just happened settle over you.

You just slept with your sworn rival on your team principal’s desk.

After a long moment Max pulls out of you and steps back, tucking himself away. On shaky legs you slide off the desk, stumbling slightly as you find your feet, and rush to put on your clothes.

Max grabs his shirt off the floor and shrugs back into it. His hair is mussed wildly and his lips are kiss-swollen. You’re sure you look much the same.

You and Max spring apart at the sound of the lock clicking open. Christian strides back into his office, oblivious to the disheveled state that both of his drivers are in.

“Well, have you two worked out your differences?” He looks between you expectantly.

You smooth down your rumpled shirt and attempt to tuck your wild hair back into place. Your cheeks flame as you meet Christian’s gaze.

“I think we’ve come to an ... understanding,” Max says evenly, though you notice a hint of color in his cheeks as well.

Christian surveys his office, taking in the askew trophies and books scattered across the floor. You hold your breath, certain he’s going to put two and two together.

“It seems you had a disagreement about reorganizing my office during your chat,” Christian says wryly.

You nearly choke in surprise. Does he really not realize what just transpired on his desk? You chance a glance at Max and have to suppress a hysterical giggle at the disbelief on his face.

“I apologize for the mess, we got a bit ... heated,” you say, biting your lip to keep from laughing at the double meaning.

“Yes, clearly things escalated between you two.” Christian frowns at a photo of him and Dietrich Mateschitz now lying cracked on the floor. You resist the urge to shrink under his disappointed dad stare.

“However, the important thing is you’ve worked through this animosity once and for all, correct?” He looks between you expectantly.

You and Max nod in unison. “Water under the bridge,” Max assures him. You’re impressed by how steady he manages to keep his voice even as you can see the barely contained mirth dancing in his eyes.

“Excellent. I’ll inform the team that tensions are resolved and they can stop walking on eggshells around the both of you.” Christian claps his hands together, apparently satisfied. “Now get out of here and get ready for free practice.”

You and Max don’t need telling twice. As soon as the door shuts behind you, the laughter you’ve been holding in bubbles out.

“I can’t believe he actually bought that,” Max says between chuckles.

“We literally destroyed his office and he thinks we just had a minor spat,” you giggle, shaking your head incredulously.

Your laughter trails off as the reality of what happened sinks in. You just had crazy hot sex with Max Verstappen. Where do you go from here?

Before you can overthink it, Max presses a soft kiss to your lips. “Meet me at the hotel tonight? We should continue this conversation somewhere more private,” he murmurs suggestively.

You bite your lip but find yourself nodding. As complicated and ill-advised as this may be, you can’t find it in yourself to deny your attraction to Max now that you’ve given in to it.

“It’s a date,” you whisper back.

Max grins and steals another quick kiss before you part ways to get changed.

[a-lexia11]

Career Day

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warning:none

Words:Around 2.5k

Note: Thank you so much to @chai-berries for the idea🫶🫶This is for you. Also,this is part of the “meeting in Barcelona” universe.

The classroom was buzzing with excitement as today was Career Day. For weeks, my fourth graders had been counting down the days until the special guests would arrive.

They were thrilled to meet professionals from different fields, but there was one guest they were particularly eager to see—Alexia.

The thought of Alexia sharing her experiences with the kids made my heart swell with pride and anticipation.

After all, it wasn’t every day that a football superstar visited our school, and I wanted everything to be perfect.

I was sitting on my chair as Alba, walked into the room. Her usual mischievous grin was firmly in place, and I couldn’t help but smile back.

“¿Estás listo para hoy?” (Are you ready for today?) she teased, raising an eyebrow as she leaned against the doorframe.

“Creo que si” (I think so) I replied, brushing a stray lock of hair out of my face. “He estado esperando esto con ansias, pero todavía estoy un poco nervioso. Quiero que todo salga bien” (I’ve been looking forward to it, but I’m still a bit nervous. I want everything to go smoothly.)

Alba chuckled, setting down a stack of papers on her desk. “No te preocupes, Y/N. Va a ser genial. Los niños se van a volver locos cuando vean a Alexia. ¡Han estado hablando de eso toda la semana!” (Don’t worry, Y/N. It’s going to be great. The kids are going to lose their minds when they see Alexia. They’ve been buzzing about it all week!)

“Lo sé” (I know) I said with a nod. “Solo espero que Alexia también lo disfrute. Sé que tiene mucho trabajo con el fútbol” (I just hope Alexia enjoys it too. I know she’s got a lot on her plate with football)

Alba waved a hand dismissively. “Le encantará. Confía en mí, inspirar a los niños es una de sus cosas favoritas. Y seamos realistas: tenerla aquí hará que hoy sea inolvidable para ellos” (She’ll love it. Trust me, inspiring kids is one of her favorite things. And let’s be real—having her here is going to make today unforgettable for them)

Just then, the bell rang, signaling the start of the school day.

The kids began to trickle into the classroom, their energy palpable. They were practically bouncing with excitement, chattering about the different professionals they were going to meet.

As they settled into their seats, I could see the anticipation shining in their eyes—especially in the girls who played football and idolized Alexia.

When it was finally time for the presentations, I led the kids to the assembly hall, where a variety of professionals were waiting.

There was a policeman in his crisp uniform, a firefighter in full gear, a veterinarian who had brought along a couple of adorable puppies, and a marine biologist with a table full of fascinating seashells.

The students eagerly gathered around each presenter, soaking in the knowledge and asking endless questions.

But despite the excitement surrounding the other professionals, I knew who they were all really waiting for.

And when the time came for Alexia to make her entrance, the anticipation in the room was electric. Standing by the door, I felt my heart race with both pride and nerves.

Then I saw her—walking down the hallway with that effortless grace she had, turning heads without even trying.

She was dressed casually yet stylishly, in her Barcelona jersey and jeans, and her presence alone was enough to command attention.

As she reached me, I greeted her with a warm hug, the familiar scent of her perfume instantly calming my nerves.

“Hey, you,” I whispered, smiling up at her. “Thank you so much for doing this.”

Alexia’s eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm as she returned my hug. “No me lo perdería por nada del mundo. He estado esperando esto con ansias; he escuchado tanto sobre estos niños de ti y de Alba” (I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I’ve been looking forward to this—I’ve heard so much about these kids from you and Alba)

As we walked together to the front of the room, the kids’ excitement reached a fever pitch.

The chatter turned into a chorus of squeals and whispers, and I could see the girls who played football practically bouncing with joy.

“Escuchen, todos” (Listen, everyone) I began, addressing the class with a smile, “esta es Alexia Putellas, la capitana del FC Barcelona y de la selección española. Démosle una calurosa bienvenida” (this is Alexia Putellas, the captain of FC Barcelona and the Spanish national team. Let’s give her a warm welcome!)

The applause and cheers that followed were deafening, and I saw Alexia’s cheeks flush with a mix of pleasure and shyness as she waved to the kids.

Her smile radiated warmth, and I could tell she was genuinely happy to be there.

“Gracias por una bienvenida tan calurosa.”(Thank you for such a warm welcome) Alexia said, her voice effortlessly carrying over the noise. “Estoy muy emocionada de estar aquí y hablarles sobre lo que es ser futbolista profesional” (I’m really excited to be here and talk to you about what it’s like to be a professional footballer.)

As Alexia began her presentation, I watched the kids’ faces light up with fascination.

She spoke about her journey from being a young girl who loved kicking a ball around to becoming one of the top footballers in the world.

Her stories were filled with passion, perseverance, and moments of triumph and challenge. The kids were completely captivated.

After Alexia’s talk, it was time for questions, and a sea of eager hands shot up. I couldn’t help but grin at their enthusiasm.

Sofia, one of the most energetic girls in the class, was the first to ask, “¿Cuál es la parte más difícil de ser futbolista?” (What’s the hardest part about being a footballer?)

Alexia paused thoughtfully before answering. “Diría que la parte más difícil es lidiar con las lesiones y los contratiempos. Es difícil cuando no puedes jugar, y puede ser frustrante. Pero con trabajo duro, determinación y el apoyo de tu equipo, puedes superar esos desafíos”(I’d say the hardest part is dealing with injuries and setbacks. It’s tough when you can’t play, and it can be frustrating. But with hard work, determination, and the support of your team, you can overcome those challenges.)

Pablo, a thoughtful and curious boy, asked, “¿Cuál es la mejor parte de ganar un gran partido?”(What’s the best part about winning a big game?)

Alexia’s eyes sparkled as she replied, “La mejor parte es celebrar con mis compañeros de equipo. No hay nada como esa sensación de logro y alegría que compartimos todos juntos. Hace que todo el trabajo duro valga la pena” (The best part is celebrating with my teammates. There’s nothing like that feeling of accomplishment and joy that we all share together. It makes all the hard work worth it.)

Then Lena, one of the cheekier students, piped up with a grin. “La próxima vez que marques un gol, ¿puedes hacer una voltereta?” (Next time you score a goal, can you do a backflip?)

I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining Alexia attempting a backflip. She chuckled too, shaking her head. “¿Una voltereta? No creo que pueda hacer eso, ahora soy demasiado vieja, como un dinosaurio” (A backflip? I don’t think I can do that, I’m too old now,like a dinosaur)

The kids burst into laughter, and it was clear that Alexia was thoroughly enjoying herself.

As the questions continued, some of the girls couldn’t contain their excitement any longer and rushed forward to give Alexia a hug.

She knelt down to their level, hugging them back with genuine affection, and the sight melted my heart. It was clear that she was more than just a football star to them—she was a role model, someone they looked up to and admired deeply.

One of the boys, clearly awestruck by Alexia’s presence, suddenly blurted out, “Espera, ¿eres pariente de la señorita Alba? ¡Te pareces a ella y tienen el mismo apellido” (Wait—are you related to Miss Alba? You look like sisters and you have the same family name!)

Alexia and I both smile gently, and Alba, who was standing nearby, couldn’t resist chiming in. “Tienes buen ojo, niño. ¡Somos hermanas! Pero creo que yo soy más bonita” (You’ve got good eyes, kid. We are sisters! But I think I’m prettier)

The students giggled at Alba’s playful comment, and Alexia rolled her eyes affectionately. “Sí, sí, sigue diciéndote eso, Alba” (Yeah, yeah, you keep telling yourself that, Alba)

When it was time for Alexia to show off her medals, the excitement in the room reached new heights.

She carefully pulled out her Champions League medal and her World Cup medal, holding them up for the students to see.

“Esto” (This) Alexia said, pointing to the Champions League medal, “Es de cuando ganamos la Champions League. Fue una experiencia inolvidableis (from when we won the Champions League. It was an unforgettable experience)

The kids’ eyes widened with awe as they examined the medals up close.

There were gasps of amazement and excited whispers as they passed the medals around, handling them as if they were the most precious treasures in the world.

“Esto” (This) Alexia continued, holding up the World Cup medal, “es de cuando ganamos the World Cup. Requirió mucho trabajo duro y dedicación llegar hasta aquí, pero valió la pena cada momento.(is from winning the World Cup. It took a lot of hard work and dedication to get here, but it was worth every moment)

One of the girls, Beatriz, looked up at Alexia with wide eyes and asked, “¿Crees que algún día podríamos ganar uno de estos?”(Do you think we could win one of these someday?)

Alexia smiled down at her, her eyes filled with warmth and encouragement. “Absolutamente. Si trabajas duro, te mantienes dedicado y crees en ti mismo, puedes lograr cualquier cosa que te propongas. No siempre será fácil, pero te lo prometo: valdrá la pena.”(Absolutely. If you work hard, stay dedicated, and believe in yourself, you can achieve anything you set your mind to. It won’t always be easy, but I promise you—it will be worth it.)

The girls who played football seemed especially inspired by her words. Some of them even asked for tips on improving their game, and Alexia was more than happy to give them advice.

“Enfócate en tu técnica, practica regularmente y, lo más importante, disfruta del juego y juega con el corazón.” (Focus on your technique, practice regularly, and most importantly—enjoy the game and most importantly play with your heart) she said, her words leaving a lasting impression on the kids.

After Alexia’s presentation, the kids eagerly lined up for autographs, pictures and hugs.

The girls were especially thrilled, their faces glowing with admiration as Alexia signed their papers, shirts, and even a couple of footballs they had brought along.

As the last few students trickled out of the hall, I caught Alexia’s eye and smiled. She made her way over to me, and I could see the satisfaction and happiness in her expression.

“That was incredible” she said softly, slipping her hand into mine as we stood in the now-empty hall. “Eran tan amables, y su entusiasmo... me recordó por qué empecé a jugar al fútbol en primer lugar.” (They were so sweet, and their enthusiasm… it reminded me of why I started playing football in the first place.)

“You were amazing,” I replied, squeezing her hand gently. “You really connected with them. I think they’ll be talking about this day for a long time. And those hugs? So cute.”

Alexia chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah, those hugs were pretty great. I don’t usually get swarmed by tiny fans like that.” She paused, her voice turning more tender. “Pero me alegra haber compartido esto contigo. Verte con tus alumnos, lo mucho que te adoran... me hizo quererte aún más” (But I’m glad I got to share this with you.Seeing you with your students, how much they adore you… it made me love you even more.)

My heart fluttered at her words, and I leaned in to press a soft kiss to her cheek.

“I’m so happy you were here. It means the world to me—and to them.”

Just then, Alba appeared, her ever-present grin in place. “Bueno, bueno, bueno, miren a ustedes dos siendo tan adorables. Espero que no te hayas robado todo mi protagonismo, Alexia. ¿Todavía soy la profesora favorita aquí, verdad?” (Well, well, well, look at you two being all adorable. I hope you didn’t steal all my thunder, Alexia. I’m still the favorite teacher here, right?)

I rolled my eyes playfully. “Lo deseas, Alba. Pero tengo que decir que haces un gran trabajo entreteniendo a los niños, realmente les gustas” (You wish, Alba. But I have to say, you do a great job at entertaining the kids,they really like you)

Alba shrugged modestly. “¿Qué puedo decir? Soy una natural. Pero, sinceramente, ver lo emocionados que estaban por conocer a Alexia... valió la pena. Incluso si eso significa que ya no soy la Putellas más genial por aquí” (What can I say? I’m a natural. But honestly, seeing how excited they were to meet Alexia… it was worth it. Even if it means I’m not the coolest Putellas around here anymore.)

Alexia smirked, nudging her sister with her elbow. “No te preocupes, Alba. Siempre serás la profesora más genial de esta escuela, después de Y/N, por supuesto. Bueno, al menos hasta que decida retirarme del fútbol y dedicarme a la enseñanza” (Don’t worry, Alba. You’ll always be the coolest teacher in this school after Y/N obviously. Well,at least until I decide to retire from football and take up teaching.)

The idea of Alexia as a teacher made me laugh, and Alba joined in. “Pagará buen dinero por ver eso” (I’d pay good money to see that) Alba teased. “Imagina verte intentando enseñar a un aula llena de alumnos de 10 años” (Imagine you trying to teach a classroom full of ten years-old)

“Creo que me las arreglaría” (I think I’d manage) Alexia replied, a playful glint in her eye. “He enfrentado oponentes más difíciles, después de todo” (I’ve faced tougher opponents, after all)

We all shared a laugh, and the camaraderie between us felt effortless and warm, like we were a little family.

It was moments like these that made me grateful for the relationships we’d built—both with each other and with the kids.

As the day wound down and the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Alexia and I walked hand in hand toward the parking lot.

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky, casting a soft, golden glow over everything. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of autumn leaves.

“I really enjoyed today” Alexia said, her voice filled with warmth. “It was so nice to see the kids so excited and engaged. And being here with you and Alba… it made it even more special.”

I smiled, feeling a rush of affection for her. “I’m so glad you could be here. It means a lot to me, and I know it meant the world to those kids. They’ll remember this day forever.”

We reached her car, and Alexia pulled me into a gentle hug, her arms wrapping around me in a comforting embrace.

I leaned into her, savoring the warmth of her embrace.

We lingered in each other’s arms for a few more moments. Eventually, Alexia pulled back slightly, her hands still resting on my waist.

“I have to head to training soon” she said, her voice tinged with regret. “But I’ll be thinking about you the whole time.”

I smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “And I’ll be thinking about you. Go be amazing, as always”

She grinned, pressing a quick kiss to my lips before reluctantly stepping back. “¿Te veré esta noche?” (I’ll see you tonight?)

“Of course” I replied, my heart already longing for her return.

As I watched her drive away, my heart felt full—full of love, gratitude, and contentment. The day had been everything I had hoped for and more.

FIN

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[lilacwants]

it had to be you.

notes: aaron is one of my favs & this frank sinatra song reminds me of him!! enjoy :’)💗 summary: hotch unexpectedly falls for his intelligent and kind coworker, discovering love in an unlikely place. warnings: aaron being a softie, tooth-rotting fluff.

Aaron Hotchner was not a man who believed in serendipity. As Unit Chief of the Behavioral Analysis Unit, his life was governed by logic, structure, and an unwavering commitment to justice. Emotions, especially romantic ones, were neatly compartmentalized, kept under strict control. That is, until you walked into his life.

It was a Wednesday morning, the BAU office bustling with activity. Agents were preparing for the latest case, the sound of clicking keyboards and hushed conversations filling the air. Hotch was in his office, reviewing a case file when you knocked on the door, a hint of a smile playing on your lips.

"Got a minute?" you asked, your eyes reflecting both determination and warmth.

"Of course, come in," he replied, gesturing to the chair opposite his desk.

You closed the door behind you and took a seat, placing a folder in front of him. "I think I found something in the victimology that might tie the cases together."

Hotch took the folder and began to review the contents. As he read through your meticulous notes, he couldn't help but be impressed by your keen insights and thoroughness. It wasn't the first time he admired your work, but today, something felt different. There was an unfamiliar flutter in his chest, one that he quickly brushed aside.

"This is excellent," he said, looking up to meet your gaze. "I think you're right. This could be the link we've been missing."

You smiled, a genuine expression that reached your eyes. "Glad I could help. Should we present this to the team?"

"Yes, let's do that," Hotch replied, rising from his seat. He followed you out of the office, his mind lingering on the way your presence seemed to light up the room.

As the days turned into weeks, Hotch found himself drawn to you in ways he hadn't anticipated. It wasn't just your intelligence and dedication that captivated him; it was the way you treated everyone with kindness, the way your laughter filled the room, the way you made even the darkest days seem a little brighter.

One evening, after a particularly grueling case, the team decided to unwind at a nearby bar. Hotch usually kept his distance during such gatherings, preferring to maintain his professional boundaries. But tonight, something pulled him to join in. As he entered the bar, he spotted you sitting at a table with the rest of the team, your laughter ringing out above the din.

"Hotch, over here!" you called, waving him over.

He smiled and made his way to the table, taking a seat beside you. The conversation flowed easily, and for once, Hotch allowed himself to relax. As the night wore on, he found himself stealing glances at you, each one reinforcing the growing realization that you were different. Special.

When the team began to disperse, you and Hotch were left alone at the table. You looked at him, a question in your eyes. "Walk me to my car?"

"Of course," he replied, standing up and offering his hand. You took it, and the simple touch sent a jolt of electricity through him.

The walk to the parking lot was filled with easy conversation, but there was an undercurrent of something more. As you reached your car, you turned to face him, your expression serious yet tender.

"Aaron," you began, your voice soft, "I've been meaning to tell you something."

He held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "What is it?"

You smiled, a touch of nervousness in your eyes. "I... I think I'm falling for you."

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Hotch felt a rush of emotions he hadn't allowed himself to feel in a long time. "You have no idea how much I've wanted to hear that," he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. "I think I'm falling for you too."

You took a step closer, your hand finding his. "So, what do we do now?"

Hotch smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile. "We take it one day at a time.”

As you stood there under the soft glow of the parking lot lights, Hotch realized that sometimes, the most unexpected moments led to the most beautiful outcomes. And in that moment, he knew that meeting you was the best thing that had ever happened to him.

[luveline]

𝐚𝐧 𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐨'𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚

you and miguel have different definitions of the same word. he finally gives in to temptation —featuring a cranky but lovesick miguel and a flirty, head-in-the-clouds spider-girl. pre across the spider-verse but contains spoilers. requested here. fem!reader, 3k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

This has to be your favourite song in the whole world. 

You sit in the hall beside the entrance to Miguel's office (this week, you're thinking you might call it The Bedroom, on account of all the magic happening inside), headphones on, a bottle of lemonade beside you. 

Today has the makings of a great day. You're at the Spider Society headquarters and not at home, for starters, and one of the Peter Parkers you'd made friends with in the med-wing saw you this morning and recognised you, which is brilliant because he looked super similar to every other Peter Parker you've met. He offered to help you fix your rinky-dink headphones, and now they're working again and loud enough to cover the sound of Spider Chatter, even with your enhanced senses. 

What's more, Miguel has finally emerged from his dormitory, and he's walking toward you looking confused. That's a step up from unhappy. 

He asks you something. 

"What? I can't hear you." 

He says something else. You shake your head, music too loud to catch even a hint of what he's saying, and Miguel eventually crouches down to push your headphones around your neck. He's surprisingly gentle. 

"What are you doing?" he asks. 

"Waiting for you, what did you think I was doing?" 

"Why are you sitting on the ground?" He gestures backward to a red-lit control panel. "Chair right there." 

"I think that's someone's desk." 

"It's really not." 

Miguel stands up and doesn't hesitate to grab your arms and help you up too. It means more to you than it should, because it's not necessary and a few months ago he wouldn't have bothered. Which isn't to imply that Miguel is a mean guy, Lyla says he used to be a loser (code for sweetheart), and you get flashes of it every now and then in chivalry and kind smiles. 

He's not mean, he's cranky. 

"Don't sit on the floor," he says. "Just– just go inside if I'm not here." 

"Well, The Bedroom doesn't come when I call." 

Miguel's lips part in confusion for a second. Lyla appears at his shoulder, and says, "She can't get the platform to come down without you, genius." 

"Put her name on the command list," Miguel says. 

Your eyes widen. Lyla flashes to his other side, closer to you, and smiles playfully. "Done." 

"Stop sitting on the floor," Miguel says, turning around. He walks a few steps and pauses when he realises you're not following. "Are you coming with me?" 

You jog to catch up with him. Music plays against your collar, a slinking, indie sound that makes Miguel wrinkle his nose. You turn it up a little bit and smile when he glares at you. 

You enter the atrium that houses The Bedroom. Miguel hops up onto the platform because he's too tall to see sense while you struggle, but you're pleased when he takes your hand and pulls you up properly. All these familiar touches today, anyone might think Miguel liked you. 

He definitely does. 

You sit down in the spinning chair near what you've decided is your desk but certainly isn't, again pleased beyond words when you find your sketchbook from last time still there, cleaned away carefully, pencils in a pot and a brand new pencil sharpener by the side of it. It matches your spider suit. You look over your shoulder, your face lit up with thanks, and Miguel swiftly looks away from you. 

"It's electric. Tell me when the battery's dead, I'll charge it." 

"Thank you," you say, flipping your sketchbook open to the last entry. 

You aren't Picasso, but most members of the Spider Society are somewhat artistically inclined, considering the suit-making rite of passage they must all endure —if you don't know how to sew before you start, you will by the end. 

Or like Miguel, you could cheat and make the suit out of nanotechnology. 

You haven't really been designing any suits lately. Spidering is tiring, you need to relax, and your reluctant friends are the easiest subjects, though Miguel's face is painstakingly difficult to get right. He's very angular, high cheekbones with that divot that needs kissing stat, and his nose… He's really pretty, but you almost wish he wasn't so your sketches of him held a better likeness. 

He's the only one of the regular crew that stands still long enough to be drawn. Jessica doesn't like you (or maybe she does, it's hard to tell, but she hasn't forgiven you for asking if her baby was like a maraca bead when she fights) so she doesn't let you draw her. Lyla will stand very still if you request it, but after a few portraits she got bored and started changing her hair or glasses, and after a few more she gave up. Margo is hard to focus on because her blue light makes everything else seem super orange, though she does stand in one place usually. She takes up a lot of pages, but it's Miguel you've drawn most of all. 

You go around the Spider Society sometimes asking people if they'll sit for you, but again your skills aren't impressive, so it's awkward when they want to see how you've done. There are drawings of all kinds of Spiders, including yourself, between Miguel, and Miguel, and Miguel. 

His back, the side of his face, his hands ungloved. His pointy bottom teeth mid fight. The naked stretch of his arm and his Rapture injector positioned over it. He might not appreciate that one. You rip it out and toss it in the waste paper basket under your desk, where it incinerates, paper smoke curling up toward the extractor fan on the atrium ceiling. 

"What are you doing?" he asks without looking at you, his gaze on one of his marigold coloured monitors. 

"Drawing." You're not drawing so much as sitting there with a coloured pencil in hand, trying to think of conversation starters. "What are you upto?" 

"According to the program, there are no Canon events today at risk of disruption," Lyla chimes in, "so Miguel's doing chores." 

"What, not one bad thing is gonna happen today?" you ask. 

"Nothing we can predict," Miguel says. 

You swap your pencil for your drink, unscrewing the lid of your lemonade to sip at it leisurely. Today is your favourite kind of day. No fighting, lots of time with Miguel, and music to go with it. You're so happy you could melt. 

Miguel turns to you and sees your stickying smile. 

"What?" 

"Nothing. Just happy to be here with you," you say.

"Don't say stuff like that," he says, turning back to his screen. 

"Scared you'll actually experience sincerity?" Lyla asks. 

"Lyla," he warns, as though Lyla might be afraid of any consequence he had the power to inflict. 

"Sorry," you say, not very sorry, but not wanting him to be uncomfortable, "it's just nice, being friends with you."

"We aren't friends." 

You're not quick to take offence with Miguel. He can be cruel. He's hurting, he's unhappy, he has a lot on his plate. Oftentimes he's so tense with apprehension his neck locks up and you hear it clicking as he turns one way or another, or if he isn't apprehensive he's disappointed, furious, upset. You give him the benefit of the doubt because you know him, but you don't know the tone of voice he uses now. It's like he's offended at the insinuation. Like he would never, ever be friends with you. 

You put your lemonade on the desk and don't know what to do. His insipid floating platform is too high now to leave without causing a scene. Maybe when he's busy you can web down and go home. All you know is that you desperately don't want to be near him. But home sucks, and the dormitories are worse. You're stuck. 

"You can be so mean," you say softly, turning back to your sketchbook and pencils. 

You're thinking you might draw him with a bunch of bee stings, or find a previous sketch and cross his eyes out.

"What?" he asks. 

Your hackles rise. "You're mean. Don't talk to me." 

"What?" Miguel stands very still. "Y/N, what?" 

"What do you mean, what? I said something nice and you said something cruel. I get it, okay, we aren't friends, so don't talk to me." 

"I've upset you." 

You stare at your blank page. "It doesn't matter." 

"No, I've said the wrong thing." 

"Miguel, don't bother. What else could you mean by that?" You laugh with little humour. Crestfallen doesn't begin to describe how you feel. "I'll be quiet. I just don't want to be at home." 

"What's wrong with home?" 

"Is there ever much right?" 

"Did something happen?"

"We aren't friends, so why ask me?" 

You bite the inside of your lip as Miguel approaches, his footfall hushed over the lightweight metal flooring. You turn to him in your chair, head tilted back to meet his eyes, arms crossed over your stomach defensively. 

"That's not what I meant when I said that." He speaks slowly, firmly, to avoid any misunderstanding. "What's wrong with home, mi cielo?" 

You tap his ankle with your shoe, looking away from his gaze. You don't want to tell him, and if he keeps looking at you like that, you will.

"¿Qué pasó?" He bends at the waist slightly, bringing his face closer to yours, dark hair falling into his eyes.

"I don't know what that means," you murmur.

"Did something happen?" he asks.

"Nothing happened, it's just– it's lonely there," you say, squirming under the weight of his gaze, his sudden caring. "What's with you? One minute you're not my friend, the next you're worrying about me? You're giving me whiplash." 

He stands up, and his face falls back into a more typical emotionlessness. He's clearly feeling something, but he's wiping the slate clean. 

"When I said we aren't friends, it didn't mean–" He grunts, crossing his arms over his chest. "I thought you were staying in the women's dormitory?" he asks, frustrated.  

"I am, but I'm useless, and they don't really respect me because I'm–" 

"Eccentric?" 

"–not as experienced," you finish, eyes flaring. 

"Oh, my god," Lyla says, appearing in front of him to make sure he sees her delight at his slip up. 

Miguel bats her hologram with an annoyed grunt. She disappears again, her tinkling laughter cut short.

"It's a good thing," Miguel says quickly.

You stand up. "It's not the point." 

"You should feel at home in the dormitory, and if you don't, I'll find you somewhere else to stay here, you don't have to be in there if you don't feel welcome."

"Miguel, you're sounding awfully friendly right now." 

"We aren't friends," he says again, stepping closer to you. "What's so hard to understand about that?" 

"But we spend time together. We have fun. You like me, Miguel, you do, you tell me jokes sometimes, you make me things for me. You… you do like me, right?" 

"You know that I do," he says, his eyebrows pinching together. 

"You like me, like, you want me," you say, just to make sure.

His fist clenches hard enough to make an audible sound. Miguel's voice is fraught, and through barely parted lips, "If you know that, what's the problem?" 

You don't know. Maybe it was silly to worry about how he sees you, because you do know that Miguel likes you, but you also know he hadn't wanted to like you. His attraction to you was reluctant, you're not stupid enough to miss that, and it was important to you that whatever tension sexual or otherwise lingering between you had bloomed into mutual affection. 

"I want us to be friends, too," you say. 

"I thought we were more than that." 

It's such a quiet admission. He isn't afraid to say it, and he isn't reluctant like you feared. 

"Miguel," you say. "I want you to like me. I know I can be off-putting, I know I tease too much, but I don't want you to like me despite those things, I just want you to like me. So, when you say we aren't friends…" 

"I've never heard you say three serious sentences in a row," Miguel says, reaching out for your hand. He pulls you toward him slowly, his fingertips gliding up the length of your arm. "Then again, it's the same nonsense as usual." 

"Miguel–" 

"Of course I like you. How else do you need me to say it? I like you and I want to kiss you, I like you and I like that you're irregular. You want us to be friends? Then let's be friends." Miguel's hand closes around your bicep. His thumb presses against soft fat and muscle alike. "But not just friends." 

Relieved, you sigh. "So you're saying we really weren't friends?" 

Miguel leans down until his face is the only thing you can see. His smooth skin, his dark eyes, their darker flush of too-long lashes; it's unfair how pretty his eyelashes are, how they curl, how they bunch in triangles you have to fight to resist touching. His eyebrows so often slightly set, giving him an unhappy expression even now. 

He brings the hand that isn't clasped at your bicep to the hill of your waist. It's hot as a brand, and it pulls you closer, your neck craning with every inch he steals from between you. 

"We can be friends," he says. 

His fingers twitch against your arm, and his hand begins to climb. It's not as slow as it feels, conquering the curve of your shoulder, your neck. His hand is big, his thumb pressing into the column of your throat gently.

He looks at you for a measured lapse of time, and you know, finally, that you're on the same page. 

"What you said before, 'mi cielo?'" You hold his elbow. "What does that mean?" 

"My sky," he says. "My… my heavens. It's saccharine. It's something teenagers say, when they're," —his voice dips, the hand at your waist squeezing tight like you might slip through his hold—  "infatuated." 

"Just teenagers say that?" you ask.

"No," he allows. "I always thought it was too much." 

"But you–" 

"Yeah. I did." 

The first kiss is surprisingly sweet. On the tail end of words, Miguel presses his lips half-parted to yours, slowly, softly, like the brush of a downy feather. He lingers, and it's your own movement that spurs him on —you shudder up into his lips and he loses control. 

The sound he makes is a shock. You try to pull back to check he isn't hurting, and he lets you until he realises why it is you're pulling away. "It's fine, it's okay," he says quickly. 

Assuaged of your concern, he pulls you back in and he kisses you, he kisses you, his hand squeezing too tight and his nose bridge sliding up against yours from the force of it all. Your chest feels like a pit and you need Miguel closer if you're ever going to fill it, your hands snapping up to his face like magnets. There's no need to pull him down to you, he's already wading in, not wading —crashing, kissing you so hard your lips burn. 

You make a sound that says, hopefully, This is really fun, but don't give me a bruise.

His tongue is a heat at the seam of your lips. Your weight bends, your chest leaning into his front. He doesn't hesitate to ease his hand behind your back and prop you up against him as things get heady, and the only thing you can feel is him. 

All those times he almost kissed you, all those times he couldn't cross the gap. He poked and prodded and provoked you into getting into his space and each time you called his bluff. You wanted Miguel to give in, and now he has, it's the meltiest, most stickying warmth you've ever felt. 

Voices sound far away, off the platform and down the hall. Jessica and someone else, approaching fast. 

Something sharp snags your bottom lip as Miguel pulls away. You press your finger to your sore lip. When you pull it away, blood spots your skin. 

Miguel takes your face into his hand and angles your face to a glowing screen carefully, in total juxtaposition of the grip he'd had on your waist. 

"Sorry," he mumbles, the tip of his fangs catching the light. His adrenaline must be high. 

"Excited?" you ask him breathily. 

He wipes your lip with his thumb. The other hand pet's your cheek. You feel suddenly and smotheringly adored, all his attention on your pinprick wound. 

"Everything okay up there?" Jessica calls. 

Miguel drops your face like he's remembered himself. You turn to your newfound company, Jessica Drew and an unhappy looking Gwen Stacy. This high up, there's no way they can see the state of either of you, mussed hair and Miguel's blushy cheeks, but they'll see you eventually. And Miguel might like you, might want you, might be your more-than-friend, but he's a stickler for appearances, and being found kissing your subordinate dizzy when you're supposed to be working would mortify him.

"I cut my lip on a lemonade bottle," you call cheerily, waving at grumpy Gwen. Her lips perk up. "Miguel's trying to tell me it's my fault. Is lemonade usually sharp?" 

His hand flattens subtly at the small of your pack. 

"Thanks," he murmurs. 

"Welcome, handsome. Is it bad?" you ask, turning back to hip with your lip pouted. 

His eyes visibly soften at the sight of you. "Not that bad." 

"Alright, good. You'll have to let the platform down, I need to go." 

"What? Where are you going?" he asks. 

"If we're friends now," you say, lilting, performing a half spin in front of him just to watch his eyes narrow, "I'm going to have to make us bracelets. Friendship bracelets." He clearly doesn't like the idea of being friends still, so you amend with a softer tone, "Friends and whatever that was. Come on, you'll love it. I'll make it match your suit." 

He rubs the space between his eyebrows. 

"Will you bring your stuff here?" he asks, the platform beginning to lower under your feet. 

"Duh. I need to take lots of measurements. I'll be in your hair all day, you'll hate it." 

He nods like he agrees. "I'll hate it," he says, deadpan. When he's sure Jessica and Gwen aren't looking, he gives you a smile you've never seen before. 

You and I have a secret, it says. 

Lyla appears by your shoulder to instantly tell him otherwise. It goes without saying that she's mildly disgusted and extremely smug. "Don't match it to his suit, Y/N. Mr. Heartthrob here needs something soft. How about some baby pinks, hm?" 

Miguel sighs, but you barely hear him over your excited gasp. "Yes! Pink and white, for sure, that would be so nice." 

"Great," Miguel says. "Perfect. Thanks for that, Lyla."

"You're so welcome!" 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :D please reblog if you have the time ♡

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