̊+· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Requested :

🪼 LEMME SEE DAT ASS!! 🌊

In which, you’ve been sending Ajax erotic photos in the middle of his meeting. He can’t keep it in his pants, so he rushes home to you before being dismissed, but you’re... not in those slutty outfits anymore. Why would you disappoint him like that ☹️

A/N: modern au btw 😋😋 GUYS IM SICK. kill me. bleeding out and ofc i get sick on the same day it starts. gtfo. hopefully its just the flu and not viral pneumonia again 😛

INTRO PREVIEW‎

The boardroom was silent except for the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Executives sat around the long glass table, droning on about quarterly reports and market expansions, their voices blending into a dull hum in Ajax’s ears. He would’ve been paying attention— should’ve been paying attention— but his focus was completely shot the moment his phone buzzed in his lap.

At first, he’d only glanced down, fully prepared to ignore whatever notification had come through. But then he saw your name. And then he saw the picture.

Ajax exhaled sharply through his nose, his grip tightening around his phone as his brain short-circuited. His free hand clenched against his thigh, his jaw tensing as he quickly tilted his screen away from prying eyes. A slow, burning heat coiled in his stomach, spreading through his limbs like wildfire as he stared at the image.

What the hell do you think you’re doing?

Another buzz. Another image. And this one— this one had him shifting in his seat, his fingers nearly crushing his phone in his grip.

“Mr. Tartaglia?” A voice cut through the fog in his mind. One of his colleagues, staring at him expectantly. “You had thoughts on the next steps?”

Ajax cleared his throat, forcing his face into something neutral. “Actually,” he said, standing abruptly, straightening his suit jacket, “something’s come up. Family emergency.”

The room blinked at him, startled by the sudden announcement, but he didn’t care. He was already pushing his chair back, grabbing his phone, and walking out before anyone could question him.

—

By the time he reached home, Ajax was practically vibrating with anticipation. His mind was still consumed by the images, by the thought of you waiting for him, dressed like that, looking like that. He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling hard before pushing open the door.

“Baby, I swear to God—” he started, voice low and heated. But the second he stepped inside, his excitement turned into something else entirely.

You were no longer in that outfit. No sultry pose, no teasing smirk, no breathtaking display of temptation waiting for him. Just you, in something comfortable, relaxed. Like nothing had happened.

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