#I lowkey still put a warning as an A/N on chapters that have smut in them

[guiltyasdave]

no one has to know what we do

chapter 2 • series masterlist

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

summary: Try as you might, Dave and you can’t stay away from each other.

word count: 4.4k

tags/warnings: explicit smut -> 18+ mdni, dbf!Dave, unhealthy relationship dynamics, dom/sub dynamics, angst, daddy issues (reader’s dad sucks), able-bodied reader, reader has hair that Dave pulls, no use of y/n, divorced Dave, unprotected p in v, fingering, rough sex, dirty talk, praise kink, spanking, sooooo many pussy slaps (don’t look at us), pet names, let me know if anything is missing!

a/n: co-written with my love @joelscurls, who unfortunately couldn’t write this entire chapter the way we had originally planned, so you’re stuck with me again. if you notice that some parts are better written than others, those are most likely hers haha <3 this is lowkey my favorite thing that i’ve ever put out, and i hope you like it as much as i do 🤍

follow @joelscurlsupdates and @guiltyasdavenotifs for updates and find jess’s masterlist here and my masterlist here :)

dividers by the lovely @saradika-graphics 🤍

The phone feels like a paperweight in your hand. It’s late — you should be sleeping, but you know it’s useless to even attempt shutting your eyes. It’s too loud in your head right now — that promise of just one time blaring: a warning. Still, you can’t help but consider ignoring it, texting David and begging to see him again.

It’s probably a bit pathetic, yearning for a man who made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you beyond a one night stand. Daydreaming about the timbre of his voice, the stretch of his cock. Getting his phone number from your father, who’s none the wiser. Your father, who is asleep in his own room just down the hall. Being home for the summer has never felt like such a burden.

Guilt eats at you as your fingers hover over the screen, David’s contact front and center. It would be so easy to send him a text right now, let him know you’re thinking about him. About the other night. But your conscience reins you in. Your father’s face flashes behind your eyes — rage and disappointment painting his features scarlet, and you drop the phone beside you on the mattress with a huff.

It’s difficult to even imagine the inevitable severity of his reaction if he ever found out. He’d probably cut you off, the revelation of you whoring around with his friend — and the possibility of this news getting out, tarnishing your family’s pure reputation — more than enough for him to disown you.

You hate him sometimes. Hate the life he’s forced onto you. You’re not even interested in studying law — not really. You never had a choice, though. It was determined before you even graduated high school that you’d follow in your dad’s footsteps. And as long as he’s funding your studies, your future, you have no right to complain. This is the life you should want. The life everyone wants. He reminds you of that fact regularly. Him, and his countless snooty club buddies.

But David — David is refreshing.

He doesn’t come from old money. He doesn’t pinch your cheeks and talk around you rather than to you, declarations of you must be so proud aimed at your father as you stand awkwardly to the side. You’re pretty sure he’s the first person outside of your professors to really look at you, take interest in anything you have to say in… god knows how long.

You can still feel his eyes boring into you. The subtle but tactful brush of his leg against yours under the table. The exhilaration that had thrummed in your veins. He’d made you feel something. You’d almost forgotten you could feel anything apart from stress and agitation. And as you lay in bed, mind swimming with arousal and impending remorse, you fear you may not be able to control yourself much longer, consequences be damned.

He’s not expecting you to reach out.

Why would you? You’d mutually agreed on that night in his car being a one time thing — just a hookup; something he would’ve done before meeting Carol. Something he should probably be doing more often now. Except you’ve somehow sunk your teeth in him, injected him with a sort of venom.

Because all he can think about is seeing you again.

It’s wrong — beyond wrong. You’re so young; still in college, for christ sake. He never met you before the other night, but he’d been stationed overseas with your father when your mother was pregnant with you. He still remembers reading the letters she’d sent in care packages over his shoulder, the ones detailing her symptoms, what foods she was craving.

Strawberries. She always wanted strawberries. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet.

He’s never been with a woman like you; never had someone trust him with so much vigor. Your needy little pleas, your vehement obedience, your desperation to take all of him in the driver’s seat of his car — you are nothing short of intoxicating.

Still, he tells himself you’re off limits. Trudges through the days that follow with the thought of you bouncing in his lap fogging his head. Struggles to focus at work and recovers in an increasingly poor manner when called on in meetings.

And then, late on a Friday night, you text him.

He only knows it’s you because you tell him so — your full name flashing across the screen followed by an apology for messaging him so late. You say you’re out with friends, and he’d probably have guessed anyway by the typos littering your sentences.

Seconds after the first, another text comes through:

[1:23am] csnt stop thinking about u. pls see me again i promise i won’t twll anyone

Fuck. Fuck.

His muscles tense; his cock twitches in his boxers. And before he does something stupid, like responds, he sets the phone face down on his bedside table. Stalks off to the bathroom with the intention of taking an icy-cold shower, detoxing himself best he can.

He hasn’t even closed the door yet when he hears it ring.

The rhythmic jingle drones through his studio apartment, and he all but leaps at the noise. Sure enough, it's you, calling him drunk in the middle of the night.

His head swims. He presses ‘answer’ anyway.

“David?” Your voice sounds so sugary-sweet, cloying with innocence. He can hear people in the background, maybe your friends, talking about getting another round of drinks.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he asks first. You tell him yes; say you're waiting on a rideshare.

He exhales. And even though hearing you is making him dizzy with a fucked up sort of desire, echoes of your pleasured sounds ringing in his ears, he manages to maintain composure when you say, “can I please come over?”

“Don't think that's the best idea,” he mutters. The lack of conviction in his words would likely be painfully obvious if you weren't intoxicated. But you are, and you whine through the receiver at his rejection.

Dave fights to ignore the increasing stiffness in his boxers.

“Please,” you beg. Fuck, he loves the way you sound when you beg. “I just got off the phone with my dad…he doesn't want me coming home so drunk; said he's working on a case and I’ll be a nuisance.”

His heart breaks for you. For the girl who just wants a father who loves her, who sees her as a person with feelings. Dave can't imagine ever treating his daughters this way. Would never dream of it.

“C-can I?” your voice sounds through the speaker again — softer, less sure. Like you've prepared yourself already for the blow of him rejecting you too.

“Can't– can’t you stay with one of your friends?”

You sigh, defeated. “I want to stay with you.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to. God, it would be so easy to say yes. To go and pick you up from the bar himself, bring you back to his place. Help you sober up a bit and fuck you until you can't take it anymore. But he can’t; he shouldn't even be speaking to you right now. He needs to cut this off. Needs to make it clear to you that you can't reach out to him again.

“You– we can’t.” He’s stern, direct. It pains him. “The other night shouldn’t have happened.” True, though he doesn’t regret it. Not one bit.

You’re quiet on the other end of the line for a second too long. When you finally do speak again, your voice breaks.

“You don’t like me?”

He’s going to tell you that of course that’s not it, that he’s been thinking about you constantly, that he wishes he could get you out of his fucking head. But he doesn’t get the chance. Because your friends are laughing boisterously around you, then, sounds growing more and more muffled through the speaker, and you’re telling him rather unceremoniously that you have to go.

The call disconnects with a beep.

You wake the following morning with a dizzying headache, daylight burning a hole between your eyes. With your friend still soundly asleep, you slip out of her room and then her apartment; find yourself home just as your father is getting ready to leave for work.

His travel mug sits on the entrance table as he pulls his shoes on, and you're immediately met with the smells of coffee and his leathery cologne.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” he mutters as he grabs his briefcase. You don't dare look him in the eyes, lest you be met with their disapproving stare.

“Hi,” you reply, small and non confrontational. When he doesn't answer, you continue past him, begin your ascent up the stairs toward your room.

“Not very appropriate for a young professional, going out and getting wasted. Your future employer could've been there. Could've seen you acting like an imbecile.”

Annoyance furls behind your temples; makes the pounding in your head grow tenfold.

“Well then they probably won't be my future employer,” you snip.

“Probably not.”

You hear the front door close behind you and, with an agitated sigh, drag your feet the rest of the way up the stairs. You fall onto the covers of your bed, well aware that you should probably shower, but your body feels too heavy, in no way ready to move again just yet.

When you pull out your phone, ready for some mindless scrolling to numb your thoughts for a while, you’re met with a notification that sends your heart racing.

Have fun last night?

From David, sent five minutes ago.

You hastily scroll up, reading your own texts from last night, full of typos and barely coherent. csnt stop thinking about u. Your head falls back with a groan. You had gone out to forget about him, not to drunkenly confess your feelings to him in the middle of the night.

Now that you’re thinking about it, you also vaguely recall speaking to him. You tap on your call log and sure enough, there’s his name, only minutes after you texted him. You have no idea what you might have said to him, only a blurry memory of being upset about something. Great, this is great.

Sighing deeply, you go back to messages.

i was very drunk. sorry for bothering you

His reply comes almost instantly.

Who said you bothered me?

You’ve only met him once, and yet you can picture his smirk as if you’ve seen it a thousand times.

Dave is sipping his coffee, black, no sugar, and listens to Jim going over his plans for the both of them going golfing next weekend, humming occasionally.

It pains him, looking at the man in front of him, while your voice from last night is still ringing through his head. How hurt you sounded, looking for a place to stay, not being welcome in your own home.

When Jim stands up to leave for work, he remains seated, gesturing towards his half eaten bagel, but assuring the other man that he doesn’t have to wait for him.

You still haven’t left his thoughts. If anything, the longing he feels for you has gotten worse since you told him how much you want to see him again. And he’s so tired of denying himself the one thing he really wants.

He’s patient, chipping away at the bagel until he sees your father’s gray Dodge peel out of the parking lot. And then he gives it another 10 minutes, just to be safe.

Come join me for coffee? I’m downtown at Roasted Beans.

You respond moments later — such an obedient little thing, you are — letting him know you’ll be there shortly. He finishes off his drink, discards the cup along with the bagel wrapper, and orders two fresh coffees.

He sees you before you see him. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly, you look so cute as you scan the cafe. You’re wearing a sundress, the blue fabric dancing around your thighs with every turn of your body, and Dave finds himself entranced by you.

You smile when you finally catch sight of him, your entire face lighting up and he smiles back without a second thought.

You shouldn’t meet him again. You really, really shouldn’t. But the conversation with your father this morning keeps replaying in your head, the disapproval weighing heavy on you, the feeling of being unable to do anything right.

You long for someone to look at you without judgment, for the sound of good girl against your skin. You long for David.

After last night and the fact that he obviously didn’t invite you over, you had thought that for him, maybe it really had been a just one time thing. Like you both had agreed on multiple times.

But then he’d texted you again, asking you to meet him. It’s almost embarrassing, how quickly you got ready, eager to see him again, despite knowing better.

On the drive over, you run through countless discussions in your head, trying to decide what you’re going to say to him. You have to be reasonable. There’s too much at stake. David is a mistake that you wouldn’t be able to come back from. You’re just going to meet him because he asked you to, because that’s the nice thing to do. It’ll just be coffee, nothing more.

Your resolve crumbles as soon as you see him. His eyes are already on you, their expression so full of want that it makes you ache. You walk over, feigning confidence as you slide onto the chair next to his, a quiet greeting on your lips. The deep, smooth sound of his voice when he returns it is enough to make you melt.

He has already ordered for you. It’s a small thing, rationally, but it’s once again more care, more attention than you’re used to. Warmth is spreading through your chest, but you try steeling yourself, forcing out the words that you’ve prepared to say.

“Listen, I want to apologize about last night. I shouldn’t have– I wasn’t thinking straight, I’m sorry for bothering–”

“Hey, sweetheart.” He interrupts your nervous stuttering, his hand gently wrapping around yours on the table. “I already told you that you didn’t bother me. If anything–” He sighs, his grip tightening. “I’m the one who’s sorry, you were looking for somewhere to stay, I shouldn’t have turned you down like that.”

It breaks Dave’s heart, seeing how you’re making yourself smaller, how ready you seem for him to scold you. Your quiet You don’t like me? still echoes in his mind. How your own father didn’t care where his daughter spent the night, as long as she didn’t come home. Didn’t bother him.

He clocked the way your eyes widened in surprise at the coffee that he got you, how you huff a relieved breath when he assures you again that he’s not annoyed with you. You’re so sweet, so deserving of being loved and cared for, and he so desperately wants to be the person who does that for you.

He felt the same pull from that night towards you as soon as he laid eyes on you again, and it’s only gotten worse, now that you’re right next to him, now that he’s touching the soft surface of your hand. He vividly remembers how your skin felt under his fingertips, how you writhed against him.

The urge to get just a taste of that again becomes overwhelming. He holds your gaze as his fingers start gliding over your thighs under the table, inching towards the hem of your dress. Your lips part, the softest whimper escaping your throat at his touch.

He shouldn’t, he really shouldn’t be touching you like this, shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. Can’t stop thinking about you. I want to stay with you. How is he supposed to keep away, to stop himself, when you come to him so willingly, so desperate to be wanted?

“David?” Fuck, he loves that you call him that. “Will you take me home with you? Please?”

He can tell that you’re scared to ask, bracing yourself to be rejected again. He’s not nearly as strong as you think he is.

“Yes. Come on.”

He pulls you to your feet and out of the door before either of you have the chance to change your minds.

He’s a bad man, shouldn’t be getting off on having total control over you like this. He’s probably sick; should see that shrink Carol recommended a couple months ago after the divorce was officially finalized. But the way you’re looking at him — with the same big-eyed, doleful stare you’d given him that first night — tells him you want this. Need this, even. You long to relinquish control to someone other than your hawkish father.

So pliant in his lap, limbs all gooey and relaxed under his touch, it’s clear that you trust him. Maybe more than he trusts himself.

You’re spread out on his couch, clothes hastily discarded as soon as the both of you stumbled over the threshold, already entangled in each other. He’s led you to the living room, the thought of fucking you in his bed, of your presence lingering there, your scent permeating his sheets, the last invisible line that he’s determined not to cross.

He has been toying with your body, collected your wrists in a hold over your head and told you to keep them there while he flicked and tugged on your nipples, sucked marks into your skin while you writhed underneath him.

He’s taking it slow, now that you’re here with him, now that he has the time to thoroughly break you down and put you back together again.

You’re already soaked when he sinks a finger into you, your tight walls clenching around him immediately. You coo up at him — a needy little noise that has his resolve disintegrating in seconds flat — and you look relieved when his hand loosely wraps around your throat.

“Please,” you whisper then, and he tuts.

“You want me to take care of you?”

You nod.

“Then you take what I give you. No begging. Do I make myself clear?”

Another noise — this one smaller, stuck in your throat — and he’s pulling his finger out of you again, lips curling into a cruel smile.

He doesn’t give you any time to prepare before the first slap lands on your already-throbbing clit. You can’t help but shriek. In response, he tightens the grip on your throat slightly. Gives three more stinging smacks in quick succession. Dave almost doesn’t notice when your eyes begin to roll back. He does notice, however, when your hips begin to roll upward, your body chasing his hand.

“Oh, such a good girl you are,” he praises.

Slap.

“You love this, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” you moan, garbled and a little breathless.

Slap.

“Pathetic little girl. Bet you could come just from this, you’re so desperate. Couldn’t you?”

You gasp.

Slap.

“Answer me,” Dave demands. “Or I’ll stop.”

It’s almost comical how quickly you sputter the word yes, eyes desperately pleading with him to keep going. And he’s almost shocked just how badly you needed this. In this moment, any guilt he’d been feeling is replaced with the desperate desire to give you exactly what you crave.

He slaps you again, a little harder this time, and you wail. Your legs are trembling, but you make no move to close them, keeping yourself spread wide open and accessible for him.

He’s throbbing, fighting the urge to sink his cock into your tight heat, but he wants, needs to know how far he can push you. How far you’ll go for him.

You’re dripping onto his cushions and he collects some of your slick with his fingers, rubs them against your clit. Your skin is burning under his fingertips. He teases the oversensitive nub with gentle touches, relishes in the way your eyes are glued to his face, the way your lips are trembling as you’re silently pleading with him.

No words are escaping you, and you’re so good, making him so proud with how you’re following his commands.

He slaps your clit again, and again, and again, until you’re a babbling mess, your throat constricting against his grip and your back arching as you come with a cry. Wetness floods out of you and you’re shuddering in his hold, broken whimpers of his name falling from your lips.

He watches with sick fascination, almost unable to believe that he drove you to this point. How much you enjoy being treated like this. That you’re just as twisted as he is.

When you come down, your arms weakly reach for him and he scoops you up, pulls you into his lap until your face is nuzzled into his neck.

“Good girl,” he coos, gently stroking your hair, “you did so good.”

He gives you a few moments to rest, tracing shapes across your back, until his fingers dip deeper, gliding over your ass and between your spread legs, where you’re still so fucking wet.

You squirm under his touch, needy little sounds traveling up to his ears once more. “Please,” you whisper.

One hand grabs into your hair, pulling your head back until he can see your face. You look wrecked. Pupils blown wide, your eyes wet with tears, but what really gets him is the way you look at him. He had worried, for a second, that he might have been too rough, but there’s only pure trust and longing in your eyes.

“I thought I told you no begging.”

You bite your lip, furrow your brow in that adorable way of yours. “I’m sorry. It just– it all feels so good.”

He presses his thumb down on your bottom lip, releasing it from your teeth.

“I know it does, sweetheart. You need more?”

You nod quietly, your eyes wide and pleading.

“Alright then.” He turns you over so quickly that you gasp, scrambling for a second to get your bearings. You’re on all fours, your legs still spread, your ass on display for him.

He had wanted to prepare you a little more, to give you several of his fingers first before he stretches you out on his cock, but he can’t possibly hold back any longer. Judging from the loud moan that you let out, he thinks that you like the sting of him sinking into you unprepared.

It’s even better than he remembers, your slick walls engulfing him so tightly. He starts pounding into you, the depth of his thrusts jolting your body forward and forcing more sounds from you.

He wants you to still feel him tomorrow, wants you to remember him, wants to stake a claim that he knows he doesn’t have. He groans your name, his fingers digging into your hips, greedy for every part of you that he can reach.

Perfect, you’re so fucking perfect, giving yourself to him like this.

“Come on,” he growls, reaching down to find your clit again, rubbing in tight circles. “Give me another one.”

You cry out, pushing back against him. So fucking eager. He lands two quick slaps on your ass and you fall apart, trembling wildly as your walls pulse around him and you scream out his name.

He can’t hold himself back any more and follows you over the edge, pumping into you once more and holding your hips pressed against his.

You both collapse down onto his couch, a mess of tangled, sweaty limbs and quick breaths. You curl your body into his and he presses kisses against your cheeks, your temples, your lips.

Slowly, as he’s coming back to his senses, the guilt settles in.

He lets go of you much too quickly, stands up and starts getting dressed quietly. You watch him for a moment, wracking your mind for something to say, before he looks at you.

“Get dressed. I’ll drive you home.”

He sounds cold, distant. So different from the man who just took you to heights that you didn’t know existed until now. You suppress a shiver and get up hastily. Suddenly, being naked around him feels much too exposed, too vulnerable for your liking.

You pull your dress over your head and slide your shoes back on, but one crucial item is missing.

“Did– did you see my underwear?” you force yourself to ask. He shakes his head, not gracing you with a verbal answer.

Eventually, you give up the search and follow him down the stairs and into his car. The silence grows, until its weight is pressing down, almost suffocating you. You steal glances at him, but his eyes are fixed on the road, staring straight ahead, never wavering. A muscle in his jaw is ticking.

The mix of his spend and yours is pooling between your legs, but it makes you feel dirty now. You force down the lump that’s building in your throat.

When he stops in front of your house, you scramble out of the car without a word. You don’t know what would be worse, if he said goodbye like nothing was wrong or if he remained silent. You don’t want to find out.

It’s late in the evening, you’re lying on your bed, eyelids squeezed shut, willing sleep to finally overtake you. Thoughts keep spiraling through your head, so many questions that you have no answers to.

He asked you to meet up, for fuck’s sake. You don’t understand why he’s treating you like this, but you’re determined to not let it happen again. Just two times, you think with a bitter scoff.

Your phone vibrates on your bedside table, indicating a new message.

[11:55pm] I can’t stop thinking about you either.

Attached is a photo. A photo of a familiar lacy scrap of fabric, grasped in his hand and covered in milky white cum.

It’s filthy, and wrong, and you feel yourself getting obscenely wet at the thought of him touching himself with your missing panties clutched between his fingers.

Maybe just one more time.

thank you for reading 🤍 if you liked this, please consider reblogging, leaving a comment or sending an ask, it truly makes my day every single time!

[notiddygothgf]

13. Yours

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ Such a good girl. Always following orders. ❞

★ c.w.: smut. (NOT BETA'd. olivia will be my beta-er.) (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: child now when i tell you exams are kicking my ass rn. when will it end omg. ANYWAY! i baked cookies but that didnt cheer me up so i figured id post a chappie early to hear from my pookies during such a difficult time. ily all. ur comments rlly do make my whole week. ANYWAY THIS CHAPTER IS SOOOOO TASTY AND DELICIOUS AND NASTY. im lowkey ashamed of myself. no one look at me. i hope my bf never reads this and realizes how much of a freak i am. id have to kms. 

★ w.c: .5.8k

shameless ; chapter index

AFTER DINNER – during which you got to know Aki’s roommates a little better (especially the leg humper) – the four of you sat around the coffee table in the living room. The TV was on low, playing something that Aki had been watching before he dozed off unceremoniously on the floor. He was laying on his side, back turned to you and his roommates, curled up in a little ball with his head in your lap.

Denji, Power and you were knee-deep in an intense game of Uno. You didn’t even remember packing the deck of cards, but if you had to guess, you most likely had stuck it in your purse to keep you entertained on the train. 

It had taken you twenty minutes to explain the rules to them, which was right about when Aki decided to lay down for a nap. It took them another two rounds of the game to grasp it. 

“Uno!” Power proclaimed, slamming her card on the table and leaving her with…

Three cards. She had three.

“You’ve still got three left, dipshit,” Denji hissed at her. “I didn’t even go to school, and I know that!”

“Exactly, Uno,” She replied, crossing her arms like she did something. “Three letters in Uno, three cards in my grasp. Victory is mine!”

“Uno means one, actually,” You sighed, rubbing your temples. Suddenly, you could see why Aki was so stressed all the time around those two. Two cards sat in the palm of your hand, and you were conflicted. On one hand, granted the color remained green, you could put down your second to last card and call ‘Uno’. On the other…

“You’re lying to me!” Power slammed her fists down on Aki’s table. “You’re only saying that because he won the last one. The two of you are conspiring against me.”

Something told you she wouldn’t take another loss too well. 

Aki stirred in your lap, grumbling as he shifted, the sudden commotion disrupting his nap. He sat up slowly, his hair disheveled, and muttered something about grabbing a smoke. He pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head before standing and dragging his feet towards the sliding door that led to the balcony. The sound of the door sliding shut was softer than the clamor inside.

“Let’s just move on. We all know you’re not winning,” Denji sucked his teeth, ignoring Aki’s exit. He flicked through his hand (of 21 cards) before putting three green cards down. He chuckled to himself, “Victory is mine.”

Remembering the story Aki told you once about Power putting a hole in the door (and subsequently raising his rent) because she was upset that it didn’t open for her, you sighed, deciding to choose the higher road.

And instead of putting down your green six and shouting Uno, you shook your head, picking a card up from the pile. 

You could win another day.

Power put down two cards (which didn’t fully match, but, at this point, you weren’t going to clock her). “UNO!”

You threw your hands up in defeat. “Alright, alright, Power wins,” you said, your tone light with playful surrender.

Denji groaned and threw his cards down in frustration. “I want round four!” he demanded, already scooping up the pile.

You glanced toward the balcony, where Aki was leaning against the railing, fishing a cigarette from his pocket. He patted himself down, likely searching for his lighter.

You shook your head with a laugh. “You guys play without me,” you said, rising from your seat. “Take it to one of your rooms, though. Aki’s gonna lose it if he comes back and sees this mess.”

Both Denji and Power immediately protested. “But they’re your cards!” Denji said, frowning.

“Keep them,” you shrugged, offering him an easy smile. “They’re yours.”

“Really?” Denji’s eyes lit up, and his cheeks flushed a faint pink – and, for a moment, you were reminded of the fact that he was still a boy beneath everything he had been through. He hesitated for a moment, as if he didn’t trust his luck.

You chuckled softly, ruffling his hair affectionately. “Yeah. That way they’ll be here next time we play.”

Denji beamed, and Power—ever the sore loser despite somehow winning—began gathering the scattered cards with a huff.

You bit your lip, stealing a glance at Aki through the glass door. His figure was bathed in the pale glow of the city lights, his face calm as he finally lit his cigarette, taking a slow drag. 

Pushing yourself up from the floor, you padded softly toward the door, leaving Denji and Power behind to clean up their mess. As you slid the door open, the cool night air greeted you. Behind you, you could hear the muffled sounds of Denji and Power bickering about how to organize the deck.

But out here, it was just you and Aki.

You stepped closer, the sound of his exhale, the cigarette smoke curling into the night sky, filling the space between you.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” You smiled, shutting the door softly behind you. 

When he didn’t immediately acknowledge you, you took a spot next to him on the ledge, with your back up against it. The streets of Tokyo glimmered and bustled below. The skyline stretched out on either side of you. 

Finally, Aki answered through a mouthful of smoke, “I don’t like the way he looks at you.”

You stuck your tongue into your cheek, “Who, Denji?” You asked. When your only response was Aki’s gaze, you glanced out over the balcony, “He’s harmless. It’s like a dog humping a visitor’s leg.”

Aki rolled the cigarette between his index and pointer finger before he wrapped his lips around it – slowly, deliberately, like he was lost in thought. “He can hump any other visitor he wants,” He answered. Then, voice a little lower, he added, “You’re mine.”

You bristled at that, a wonton chill running down your spine. Briefly, you remembered his words from earlier – This isn’t over. You may have gotten your fix, but he hadn’t. 

And lord knew, as weak as you were for him, you always gave Aki what he wanted.

The heat in your gut made it hard to breathe around him. Back pressed against the cold balcony, you looked into his eyes. Leaning over it with his arm crossed, he mirrored you. You weren’t used to seeing Aki’s jealous side.

But, shit, you weren’t sure you hated it.

“Not until after the divorce,” You remarked with a funny little half-smirk. You couldn’t even remember where you had left your wedding ring – back at the hotel, probably. Didn’t mean much in the first place.

Aki didn’t even crack a smile at your joke. No, he kept on gazing down at you with those thoughtful blue eyes of his, like he was trying to pick you apart at the seams. He looked at the skyline, then back at you, taking another puff of his cigarette and blowing it off to the side. 

“Hey,” You asked. Did I go too far? “What’s wrong? Too far?”

You didn’t get a response from him.

“You… You called me your girlfriend in front of those two the other week,” You sighed, “Did you… Did you mean… that? Would you wanna–” You swallowed, wishing that would kill off the butterflies that were swarming around in your belly. “Date… me?”

You had so much finesse. One of these days, you were gonna win an award for it – best conversationalist in the entire world.

Not.

To your surprise, he did answer that question, “Of course I am.”

You released a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. Aki took another hit of his cigarette – and, truly, only he could make it look so enticing. 

“Are you serious about this? About us?” He asked, finally confronting the elephant in the room. “About leaving him?”

You blinked up at him, eyes wide, heartbeat thrumming against your ribs, “Of course I am. Why?”

“Because I don’t think I would be able to take getting my heart broken by you,” He answered truthfully, blowing his bangs out of his eyes so he could look at you. Then, after a beat, he stubbed his cigarette out on the railing, flicking the butt over the edge. He took a bold step towards you. 

“Tell me it’s just temporary. Just until the divorce,” He demanded. You hadn’t expected him to confront you about the issue head-on like that but, still, you supposed you couldn’t blame him. You were in and out of his life like a ghost, and your future with him was constantly at risk. When he was close enough to make your face flush, close enough that you could smell the scent of his soap and the smoke that lingered on his clothes, he said, “Tell me you’re mine.” 

His words felt like a confrontation, but you couldn’t find it in you to blame him. You had been in and out of his life like a ghost, your presence a fleeting comfort, your absence a constant uncertainty. How could he trust in something that always seemed to be at risk of slipping away?

He moved closer, so close that the warmth of his body seemed to chase away the cold that had begun to settle into your bones. You could smell him—his soap, the faint hint of cologne, the smoke that clung to his clothes. His scent was intoxicating, and you were already a little tipsy, more off him than the wine from earlier.

“I…” you began, throat dry as you licked your lips, your mind racing for the right words. Your eyes flickered briefly to the living room behind you, but it was empty, as if the world had shrunk down to just the two of you on this balcony. “Well, for the moment being—legally, I—”

He didn’t let you finish. “Fuck the law,” he cut you off, his voice hardening, his presence overwhelming, close enough now that you could feel the warmth radiating off of his face. “Tell me you belong to me. Only me.”

His words smothered you, wrapping around you like a vice, and you felt your resolve crumble beneath the weight of his intensity. Your breath hitched, and when his nose brushed yours—just barely grazing, a near kiss that sent heat pooling low in your stomach—you let out a soft, involuntary sigh. Your hands trembled as they hovered near his chest, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’m all yours.”

His hand shot out, gripping the back of your neck, pulling you toward him with a force that was almost possessive, but not unwelcome. Before you could catch your breath, his lips crashed against yours in a kiss that was rough, unyielding, and full of everything left unsaid.

Your body melted into his, and all thoughts of the cold, of the complications, of everything but him faded into the background. You were his. And in this moment, that was all that mattered.

The kiss was rough, demanding, as if Aki had been waiting for this moment for far too long. His grip on the back of your neck was firm, pulling you closer, claiming you. Your heart pounded against your ribs, every sense overwhelmed by him—his touch, his taste, the way his body felt pressed against yours. But as your lips collided, you realized how exhausting it was to keep craning your neck upward to kiss him.

Without breaking contact, you pushed him back, gently but insistently, guiding him toward the chair on the balcony. Aki stumbled slightly, caught off guard by your sudden movement, and as he fell into the chair, there was a brief pause—his back hit the seat with a soft thud. He looked up at you, his dark eyes filled with heat and surprise, and you couldn’t help but smile, standing over him in your bare-legged, his-sweater-wearing glory.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Aki’s gaze traveled slowly up your legs, his hands following, fingertips tracing the soft skin of your thighs with deliberate slowness – like you were a blank canvas he was aching to paint. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and your breath hitched as you watched him, heart thundering in your chest.

“And you,” you began, your voice catching in your throat as his hands slid higher, his fingers brushing just beneath the hem of the sweater. “Are you…?” You gasped quietly, biting your lip as his hands pressed into the soft flesh of your thighs, his touch both teasing and electrifying. “Are you mine?”

Aki’s eyes darkened, his breath coming out in a shallow exhale. “Yes,” he breathed, his voice rough, filled with something raw, something you hadn’t heard from him before. He looked up at you, his expression almost reverent as he pulled you down onto his lap, guiding you to straddle him. 

The moment your body settled against his, his hands gripped your waist, and without hesitation, his lips found yours again. The kiss was hungrier this time, as if now that he had you, he wasn’t willing to let go. His hands slid under the sweater, fingers splaying against your back, pulling you impossibly closer. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging lightly as you deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch against your lips.

You deepened the kiss, feeling his breath hitch lightly against your lips. When you pulled away, the tension was back, heavier than before. Aki’s eyes met yours, darkened with that familiar intensity. You barely had time to catch your breath before his lips were on you again—rougher this time, needier. The kiss was messy, open-mouthed, his tongue sliding against yours with a kind of desperate hunger that left you breathless.

He was pressing up against your core – achingly hard, throbbing right up against your heat. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

His hands roamed your body, pulling you closer, his grip firm as if he was afraid to let go. You melted into him, completely giving in, your lips moving together with an urgency that had been building all evening. The sound of his heavy breathing mingled with yours, filling the little balcony.

When he finally pulled back, it was only for a second, just long enough to murmur against your lips, his voice rough and low. “You still want more, baby?”

“Always,” you breathed, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “You?”

He grinned, that familiar mischievous spark lighting up his eyes, though now there was a darker edge to it. “I’m an addict. You already know this,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful purr. “I’ll have you whenever I can, wherever I can.”

A thrill shot through you, the heat between you both palpable. “Right here?” you teased, your lips curling into a smile. “Shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Why bother?” he quipped, his grin widening as his fingers traced the curve of your waist. His eyes darkened further, a glint of challenge sparking in them. “You scared?”

You felt the rush of adrenaline, a mix of fear and excitement, but you didn’t want to back down—not now. To prove it, you kissed him hard, pressing your body into his, letting your hands roam beneath his shirt. Your fingertips grazed over the hard lines of his abs, feeling his muscles tense under your touch.

He groaned into your mouth, and it spurred you on, the fire between you flaring even hotter – God, you loved how reactive he was.

“I’m still ready from earlier,” you whispered breathlessly against his lips, reaching between your body and his to tug impatiently at the drawstrings of his pants. “I can’t wait any longer.”

His hands gripped your hips, pulling you flush against him as he growled, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours. “Good,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, “Neither can I.”

Then he was lifting his hips – and taking you with him, wiggling his pants just low enough to free his erection. He reached beneath your sweater, hooking the crotch of your panties beneath his finger and pulling them to the side with a quiet mumble of, “Stay quiet and we won’t get caught.”

You reached behind your ass, lining his head up with the place where you needed him the most. Then, taking a deep breath and holding it in anticipation, you pushed down on it. It was slight, just enough for the tip to be in – just enough to have you mewling, gripping his shoulders with unwarranted strength. A wince, and then you took in another inch or two.

His pretty blue eyes were on you – only you. Like he was amazed. Like you were the only thing he wanted. You loved the way they blinked slowly, waiting for your next move. You loved the way they seemed to glimmer beneath the moonlight. You loved the way they rolled back when you sank down onto him until your ass was flush up against his hips – finally melding your bodies together with a synchronized gasp.

He was warm, so warm. It felt as if he was meant to be there – buried deep inside of you, keeping you nice and full. 

You leaned down, licking his lower lip. With a groan, he gripped your hair at the base of your scalp roughly, slipping his tongue into your mouth and pressing your lips together. Then, he used his other hand to rock your hips back and forth – and it was the most agonizingly delicious sensation ever. You could feel your pussy aching with the stretch of him, a dull throb accompanied by the overwhelming pleasure you got every time he massaged your walls.

Back, then forth. Back, then forth – as if he had all of the time in the world to rock you in his lap.

You leaned your head back, letting your lips part around a contented sigh of, “Feels good, Aki”.

You lifted yourself off of his lap, then brought yourself back down – just once, just to test the waters. Immediately you were bathed in a familiar warmth, one that crawled its way down your spine from the back of your neck. It felt good– really good, so you did it again.

“Ah– hah,” He laughed breathlessly. Out here, it was dead silent. In fact, other than the noises from the street below, the only thing you could hear was your mingled pants, the quiet grunts he let out every time you moved. He seemed so pent up.

Then, you remembered that he was pent up. After all, he hadn’t gotten his fix yet.

So you did what any lover would have done in your shoes. You braced your hands on his strong, broad shoulders and planted your feet firmly for support, bouncing on his dick the way you knew he liked. The way that drove him crazy.

He let out a long, drawn-out, sinful moan of your name. The syllables sounded like a symphony falling from his lips. “You’re gonna kill me.”

And, fuck, you were seeing stars. He was so deeply nestled in your guts that you didn’t think you would ever be able to form a coherent thought again. Dickwhipped, just as Himeno said.

You thought of him on this very same balcony only a few months earlier, confessing to you. 

“I’m a bad influence on you, aren’t I?” He mused quietly. His hand ghosted over your neck, leaving goosebumps in its wake, gripping your chin and gently tilting your gaze up to meet his eyes.  “I have a better idea.”

You raised a brow at his antics. Wordlessly, he took a long, lazy drag or his cigarette. His thumb tugged down on your lower lip, begging for entry – which you provided obediently. 

He was the image of sin, pretty blues half-lidded and trained on the place where his calloused thumb met your lip. He brought your face closer to his slowly, like he was trying to gauge your feelings before he made his move. 

Then – when his mouth brushed delicately against yours  – he tugged your lip open in tandem with his own, breathing the smoke into your mouth.

And you felt yourself shiver – perhaps it was the cold gust of wind that hit your back. Either way, you stopped, telling him, “You’re so hot when you smoke, you know that? You make it look so tempting.”

“You think?” He breathed – his words light but his voice heavy. “Don’t start.”

“It turns me on,” You admitted.

His eyes widened at that. Then, they darkened. Slowly, he reached for the carton of cigarettes he had discarded on the table earlier – it was standing upright atop a stack of magazines and newspapers. Flipping it open with one hand, he fished a stick out, popping it between his teeth.

He replaced the carton on the table, handing you his lucky lighter. 

“Spark me, pretty mama,” He spoke lazily, eyes half lidded and dangerous. 

You did exactly that – like he wasn’t still throbbing inside of you, like you weren’t dripping down his thighs – holding the lighter up to his lips and striking it until the flame took. Once the end of the cig sizzled, you set it down on the table.

Aki puffed smoke out of the corner of his mouth, then pulled a long, savory drag. The smoke poured out of his nose, then his lips. 

“Addict,” He hummed.

“That’s rich–” You began, sucking your teeth at him with the slightest pout, interrupted only when he gripped the fat of your ass, picking you up and bouncing you gently enough that his dick shifted inside of you. The pleasure was searing white-hot, utterly intoxicating. “Fuckin– shit…”

“Keep going how you were going before,” He hummed. His digits formed a little peace sign in front of his face as he pulled another hit, then pinched the cigarette as he breathed it out to the side. When you started bouncing with a little more vigor, he laid his head back, sighing with content, “You got it, just like that.”

“Feel so fuckin’ good inside of me,” You praised him, chasing that high you so-desperately craved.

“Such a good girl. Always following orders,” He tilted his head at you. Then, the young Captain rolled his tongue over your lower lip, commanding, “Open up.”

You opened your mouth, half expecting him to spit into it, but that never happened. Instead, his hand traced a path from your lips down to your neck. His fingers wrapped themselves around your throat, keeping a grip strong enough to have your head feeling light with heady desire. Then, while your mouth was still open, he pulled you in closer – all while encouraging you quietly to keep going.

He turned his head to the side, sucking on his cigarette until the cherry burned bright orange. Then, he opened his mouth and moved a little closer, lining your lips up just enough– just right, so that he could shotgun the smoke into your eager mouth.

The pleasure burned white hot, deep inside of you. 

“Hold it,” He told you.

You sealed your lips around the smoke, even when it burned– even when it made your eyes water. You would do anything for him. 

Then, breathlessly, he connected your lips, sucking the smoke back out of your mouth. He turned his head to the side and breathed it out.

You bounced on him even harder – until the chair was creaking with the force of how hard you were riding him.

“Aki,” You gasped – loud enough for him to hear, but quiet enough that the others wouldn’t. “Aki, baby.”

He pressed your thighs together, rolling you back and forth just right – just enough that you could feel the length of him splitting you apart with the most delicious squelch. Your eyes rolled so far back you damn near saw the back of your skull.

“I’m right here,” He answered. He gripped your hip a little harder with the free hand he had, eyes squeezing shut, muttering against your lips, “God– You’re so good, feel so good– So good for me.”

Without breaking the kiss, he scooped you up into his big, strong arms. He threw your legs around his waist haphazardly.

And you, as weak for him as you were, found yourself kissing him back. Kissing him until your lungs burned with the strain of it, until he set you down and backed you up against the balcony.

“Wanna bend you over the ledge and let the whole city know whose ass this is,” He panted. His hand replaced itself on your jaw – fingers digging into the skin of your neck. “You want that? Want me to show them all?”

He spun you around and pressed your back down until your chest met the cold railing. He kicked your trembling legs apart, slotting himself beneath them.

You could feel him pressed up against you, his warmth, his hard angles, and it sent a jolt of electricity through your entire body.

“It’s mine,” He growled into a kiss against the back of your neck. “Don’t give a shit what the law says. You’re mine.”

You hated how right he was. From the start, it had been that way. The moment he’d bought you that damned glass of wine at the Public Safety party, your husband couldn’t have been further from your mind.

“Aki, I–” You were about to say, but the words died in your throat when he nestled his cockhead between your folds and slid right back in – deeper this time, out where the whole world could see you. You gasped out like it was ripped from your lungs, fingers digging into the railing while he split you open. “Fuck!” 

You were about to fucking pass out. He slid into you with such ease, fuck.

He ran his hand up your back – hiking the sweater up, sliding further up until his fingers threaded themselves into your hair. Then, roughly, he gripped you by the scalp and craned your head back.

“Let ‘em know, then, baby,” He growled. “Let em know who’s fucking you like this.”

He resumed his harsh pace, and you were seeing stars, shapes, colors. Every time his pelvis smacked against your ass, every time he bottomed out inside of you – over and over and over, all you could do was gasp and cry for him. 

“Aki-iii–” You moaned, reaching back to dig your fingernails into his sweatpants. “Aki!”

He was, without a fraction of a doubt, fucking the everloving shit out of you. Fucking you so hard your eyes were fluttering shut, so hard you couldn’t help but wonder if your husband could hear you all the way over there, on the other side of Tokyo.

“You’re mine,” He growled, landing a smack to your ass, going hard enough for it to hurt just right. “Right, hmm? Allllll mine.”

“God, yes!” You cried out – all but screaming the words. “Fuck, ye-es!”

“Fuck, it’s all mine,” Your husband panted, thrusting into you one last time before stilling.

You felt his seed fill you. With a wince, you bit your lip. A few more pants, and he was collapsing on top of you.

“That was fuckin’ great,” He laughed breathlessly. “Did you cum?”

You forced a smile. “Yeah,” you lied, “Yeah, I did.”

“Aki, don’t stop–” You whined, feeling him pistoning into you – hitting that spot that had your legs shaking. “Aki, ‘m close! Fuck, ‘m so close, don’t stop!”

“I won’t, baby,” He answered you. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Pretty pussy. All mine, yeah?”

“Mhm,” You answered dumbly.

A few more harsh thrusts, and you were teetering over the edge. A few more, and you were dripping for him, dripping down your thighs, dripping onto the balcony. 

“Say it,” He gasped out.

You obeyed, “‘S yours.”

You were close. So close that you could feel the train coming an awful lot sooner than you expected.

“Louder,” He said again.

You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You glanced back at him, watching as his mouth parted to release a shaky gasp of your name. He made it look so pretty, so sinful. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.

Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.

"Yes! Yes!" You gasped out as he landed another spank on your ass. "It’s yours!" His eyes met yours in a lustful daze.

His.

"Mine," He growled back in response. "No one else's."

You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- yours!"

“Cum for me, baby,” He growled into your ear, leaning over to press a kiss to your neck. “Let the whole city know.”

Finally, you cried, “Fuckin’ love you, fuck– ‘M cumming– Oh, God, I’m cumming!”

The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.

This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.

He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped.

You pulled away from him with a breathless laugh. “Denji told us to be quiet. You think he heard us?”

“I’m sure they heard us down in Osaka,” He retorted. Easing out of you, he kissed your cheek, “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

You leaned into Aki’s warmth, letting his arm settle over you as he drifted, his breathing soft and even. It was so quiet in his room, so still, with only the faint hum of the city filtering through the window. Every time you stirred, his grip tightened—each small movement pulling you deeper into a comfort you didn’t expect to find, a warmth that was just... easy. Your mind told you to leave, to pull yourself out of his bed and back to your real life, but you kept slipping further into his quiet embrace, letting the soft rhythm of his breathing lull you closer to sleep.

When you finally shifted to get up, his arm tightened, and a small groan slipped from his lips. “No, stay,” he murmured, half-awake, his voice rough and muffled in the pillow.

You froze, caught off guard by the quiet plea in his voice, the lazy way he pulled you back into his warmth, his eyes still barely open. “Just for a minute,” you whispered, barely believing the words yourself as you settled back into his bed, close enough to feel his steady breaths against your shoulder.

And somehow, that minute stretched on, fading into a quiet comfort that slipped you straight into sleep.

You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep when you jolted awake, your eyes flying open in the gray pre-dawn light. You grabbed your phone, the bright screen stinging in the dim room as your heart lurched—three missed calls. Tanimoto. Your chest tightened as you quickly checked the time. Three hours late. And no response.

Your hand shook as you reached over, placing it lightly on Aki’s shoulder. “Aki,” you whispered, your voice barely audible in the quiet. He shifted, his eyes cracking open, barely awake.

“I need to go,” you said, trying to steady your breath, keeping your voice low. “I was supposed to be home three hours ago. I… have four missed calls from my husband.”

It took him a second to process your words, his eyes foggy with sleep, his brow furrowing as he glanced at you. “Oh.” He blinked, nodding vaguely, his expression softening as he drifted back under, already halfway lost in sleep again before you’d even moved from the bed.

Your stomach twisted as you looked at him, his face relaxed in the soft morning light, that gentleness still hanging in the air. You stood, gathering your things as quietly as you could, moving slowly to keep from waking him. With one last look back at his sleeping form, you slipped out of his apartment and into the early morning chill, pulling your jacket tighter around yourself.

The streets were empty, the world still draped in that soft gray light, suspended between night and morning. It felt surreal, the cold air biting as you made your way back to the hotel, your heart pounding faster with each step closer to the door. Everything about the night felt like a blur, a vivid dream you couldn’t quite hold on to as reality crept back in.

By the time you slipped your key into the lock and stepped inside, it was close to four in the morning. You froze, the silence pressing in around you, the kind that only the early morning could bring. Setting your keys down on the table, you glanced around the room, the stillness somehow both familiar and foreign, like you were seeing it for the first time and knowing it by heart at once.

Moving quietly, you slipped into the bedroom, the dim outline of Tanimoto’s form on the bed barely visible in the low light. His breathing was steady, calm, a stark contrast to the way your own pulse hammered in your chest. You paused, watching him for a moment, feeling the familiar ache that always seemed to linger, a tension you couldn’t name, and slowly let out a breath.

You slid into bed beside him, the cool sheets clinging to your skin as you settled in, a scowl twisting your lips as you stared at the ceiling. Every sound seemed louder here, the soft hum of the heater, the faint creak of the mattress, even Tanimoto’s gentle breathing beside you—each one a reminder of everything else, the weight of the night sinking in, pressing down on you in the quiet.

But as you lay there, the events of the night replayed in your mind. Aki’s quiet “stay” whispered through your thoughts, lingering there, unshakable, like a memory that refused to fade. You could still feel his arm around you, his warmth, that slight hitch in his breath when he’d pulled you close. And then Tanimoto’s missed calls, lighting up your screen with an urgency that made your stomach twist with guilt.

A sigh slipped from your lips, and you closed your eyes, trying to push it all away. But it clung to you, that sense of being caught between two worlds, pulled in two directions at once. The ache of it made your chest tighten, the memory of Aki’s soft plea echoing in your mind. You could almost still feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, the gentle weight of his arm around you, lulling you into sleep.You were fucked. (And you were fucked good).

a/n: heyyyy…. ahem… how yall doing after that……… look you already know im one feral mf. no one make eye contact rn. god i love him and i LOVED writing this chapter. i hope you all enjoyed reading it just as much!! its all uphill tension from here! Lmfao! ttm in the comments!! how r yall? howd you like it?? what do you want to see in coming chapters?? Also, QOTD: is anime himeno a groomer? (and why is the answer yes)

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

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wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[octaehviaaa]

Greedy

pt.2

Pairing - lowkey yandere  Kim Taehyung x workaholic!Reader

Kind of co-workers au

Genres- yandere, comfort, angst, romance ?smut if you hold your breath

Summary~ Co-worker/work superior Taehyung is the only person who makes reader feel safe in the office, he is the perfect gentleman that she falls in love with but what happens when the very trust you put in him is the one way ticket he will use to test your morals to their uncomfortable limits

Chapter Warnings : there is some detailed smut , abandonment issues on blast , insecurities, please let me know if I forgot anything 😬

Word count: 5.479k

the yandere stuff is still marinating, give me a sec

this is not edited , bear with me 🙂‍↕️

It is often said that grief can leave you frozen in shock , the time and space around you can well keep moving forward without you and you don't really get to have a say in the reality that you could snap back to the moment you garner the little strength in you and decide to put the pieces back together

that night you had turned stone , petrified in place under the dark gaze of Taehyung without much reasoning capacity ,the minimal of your energy left from your run back to the office could only deem it necessary to give up on you in such an unfortunate position

you were not exactly sure why you cried , you felt embarrassed as if you were caught doing something you should not have been doing, overwhelmed by the tension heavy in the room , the tension the woman ahead remained oblivious to as she released crude loud pitched moans into the air while her manicured hands an ,entire contrast from your regularly trimmed ones grasped onto Taehyung's dark locs

the nausea that came with the long list of not clearly detectable emotions motivated your legs to pace backwards and away from the bile invoking sight

you felt the further nauseated when  you realised that Taehyung still wore that faint smirk and you accidentially met your ankle with the sharp corner of a rusting file cabinet 

you are sure that you heard the woman ask Taehyung what the sound had been as Taehyung responded without second thought , calm and detached

''shh ,it's just a rat baby''.

you were confident that you could throw up but nothing came even when the nausea stayed for the entire night to the point of  you passing out on the couch unable to do anything else for yourself...only to be woken up by the previous set of sharp eyes that followed you well into your nightmares

it was ironic how you had awoken embarrassed at earlier , in your unpleasant dream Taehyung had simply demanded you out of your stance , previous noisy vocal emmissions morphing into horrific screeches as  the woman twisted her head in your direction , even then you could not get your legs to move and as if that was not enough, when your panicked eyes met hers you cried harder at her melting face , candle wax in the place of skin , you are forced to watch unable to look away and as you look pleadingly at taehyung onlyvto fing his face in the same state with a grimace and dark eyes staring at you . that's when you wake jolt awake , frozen on your couch as you try to make sense of your surroundings

a dark room barely luminated by the moon outside .

the seering cut on your ankle does not even register until you are stood under the bolts of steaming hot water .

you couldn't get yourself to face Taehyung , but why?

the reason is not very clear to you as you set a plan of avoidance in motion , all you knew was that you needed an unmeasured set of days away from Taehyung to maybe forgive yourself or him for the great disdain he had placed in your unassuming way .

the initial plan had been to ask for a week off from your boss but you felt selfish as you stood in front of your boss settling on a fib about severe menstrual pains , earning yourself limited work hours cited ''you can leave anytime you don't feel too well miss L/n

it was no longer a baseless fib when your period switched dates to adjust to the immense level of stress you felt for the past few days .

it was only the beginning of your shananigans when you became aware of Taehyung's desk ahead of you path , a sitting position that once provided you a good view of a concentrated Taehyng triggering you in this particular instance and so you asked a cowoker to swap cubicles

it didn't bother you when you found yourself in the far coner of the room , right where the sun don't shine and your depression spikes for the hills .

You were almost satisfied as long as you didn't really see Taehyung , occasional glimpses at his silhouee when he was looking away almost made you want to cry , the same silhouette hard to mistake for another stood in a white shirt with his hands in the pockets of his black slacks while his eyes stayed attached to whatever caught his attention on the copy machine that just happens to be in the exit way

you were thankful when he never raised his head , you wanted to think that he just didn't see you there or feel your presence , it honestly didn't matter as you were still not ready to face him

you would never know that Taehyung had watched you walk back in the direction you came , he had noticed you way before you did him before proceeding to test your coward 

let's just say he wasn't pleased with your sudden change in behaviour witnessing that you would rather take the stairs than simply be a grown adult and own up to the consequences of your mistakes .

You were trying your hardest best to not give into the obsessive thought patterns that occasionally presented you with the million dollar question

Who even was that woman

and why her and not me , the why had been quickly replaced with a long list of reasons that could as well date back to the ancient history of your existence

It was okay though, you could always filter everything out with the help of the loads of piled up works on your desk .

you were once again on your way out , you patting yourself on the back as you realised that Taehyung had become somewhat rare around the office , he was rather important and it was not that abnormal for him to not really be glued in his office chair 9-5

at times you could swear that he was assisting you with your ✨taevoiding✨ plan seeing his back ascend the stairs from your floor not far from the roof where people went for a smoke

Taehyung included

you stopped in your tracks, not frozen

You were actually waiting to get into the elevator , you were going home again.

on the first floor your cab   awaited and maybe you missed him ,tilting your head up towards the near distant rooftop , you had never been up there having had seen Taehyung's back face the sun from the balcony

that would have been enough for you in that particular day as you only promised to heal your heart, and so your eyes searched

until you grew frozen again,you grew uneasy as your eyes met with the rooftop

dark eyes already focused in your direction paired with extremely faint trails of smoke from your position being puffed into the air , a hard in his pocket, the other shedding the remnants of his cigarette on the surface leveled with his chest

you thank the driver who simply tells you that they don't have all day and break the tension that follows you all the way home to the moment you lay in bed at night

you didn't know what to feel so you told yourself that Taehyung was giving you space as you needed, avoiding you and further straining your complicated bond , you wanted to talk to him but what would you even say

the thought of the reason you ended up in this position actually tugs at the strings of your heart and you refuse to cry .

You felt lonely ,you realised without Taehyung by your office side you were much quieter than usual, and for the first time in a while you seeked him out without any luck , you made nothing of the apparent absence for a good three days until the fourth one came and Sung-mi occupied the desk that Taehyung usually occupied as the team manager

you are dumb.

Sung-mi is poised, shiny black locs cascading down her back and freshly manicured nails

she suited Taehyung so well and as she addresses the office, non alcoholic beverages in everyone's glasses you run for the bathroom the bile tasting bitter on your tongue as whatever you had in your stomach wastes in the toilet bowl.

"...so let's have a congratulatory toast to myself as the new manager and Taehyung for being the best manager that we will all miss".

He was gone and all this time you were contemplating to nurse your bond back to health ?

Taehyung was gone without so little as a goodbye in your direction, the nail in the coffin was Sung-mi who he left in his seat and you feel terrible about how you had managed to protect yourself so well

If you still occupied the previous desk you'd be faced with yet another pain jerker in your view , your self-esteem would plunge for the ultimate low if it was not already there .

you know what's funny, Sung-mi and you came into the company right around the same time, months apart although she was not an intern like yourself, she was a proper employee who the office chatter rumored to climb the career ladder with her charms and you immediately understood what they meant

''i never pegged Taehyung to be that type ''

-'' I mean who would resist Sung-mi, I would understand if he folded"

"but it's only temporary right-"

Right?

it was a three months post departure

You were sharing a lunch table with a group of coworkers hearing all the talk that went around the table your response to all being the food you stuff down your throat

the food that threatens to choke you as Seunkwan happily shares that Taehyung had accepted his friend request , of course that was not the big reveal as everyone gloated about already being internet friends of Taehyung

You had yet to hear a word from him.

"Yoon Hana , Taehyung's girlfriend, there is no way he could play Sung-mi sunbae like that !''

with a disapproving shake of his head Hanbin places a hand on Seungwan's shoulder proceeding to tell him

''you still have a lot to learn young man ''.

The photo of Taehyung's new woman had rotated the building and you often looked at Sung-mi to see if she was truly okay with the situation...of course she was

nowhere near bothered as she flirted with your boss whenever she could and the year carried on like that , it was baffling to watch for a hopeless romantic like you yet you somehow found yourself picking apart your own appearance , Sung-mi's nails changed almost weekly you had observed , you didn't mean to be so invested in the woman so much and without much awareness and after much comparisons you found yourself at a hair salon , a nail salon , clothing stores

it was awkward for you to have all that unwanted attention on you , you would be lying if you said it didn't feel good to not only be seen by just your coworkers in your general department as you found yourself sat in a bar with your new set of fiends who simply decided that they liked your hair and made you a fourth wheel to their thriving group , as if that was not shoking enough Jaehoon from the finance deparment had poured his heart  to you asking ou to go out with him

your friends encouraged it and you didn't see a reason to not give this a chance

although not  strangers Jaehoon and yourself had not talked about much outside of work and him fixing casually fixing and lending you some notes in the boardroom meetings when you just happened to find yourself  sat next to him on multiple occasions

coffee dates , flower boquets , dinner dates , he was growing on you and as the thought of Taehyung turned a distant discomfort when you held hands with Jaehoon and acceped him as your boyfriend.

things with Jae were easy , he was a sweetheart and he gave you everying you felt undeserving off , his job position was no doubt far higher than yours with office hours a bit more demanding than yours and yet none of that could ever keep him from  making time for you

without a clear reason you wondered if Jaehoon would ever have looked your way outide of that board room if you stayed the same

even when he told you about the fat crush he had on you from the moment you first entered that board room , an intern glued to Taehyung's side

''ha ,i even thought you were his woman at some point and so I backed up a bit''

''oh now ,why would you think such ?''

''wherever he was was where you'd be except for during the afterhours ".

it was really when he sarted going at it with seung mi that i put two and two together -

"that's why I got a bit bold over the past few months and started to sit next to you in the boardroom

I couldn't bare being anymore far from you ."

your throat ran dry , his words triggering something so raw yet so unidentified in you

that part about Taehyung

''w..what?''

''yeah , I really was shamelessly flirting with you back then -"

he tilts his head to look at your face laying on his chest and you meet his gaze halfway

"I wanted to kiss you so badly everytime I looked into these beautiful eyes"

and you gave in , tipping your head up and forward to meet Jaehoon in a romantic passionate kiss , with his help you end up on top of him straddling his hips and grounding your hips with no intention of letting this flame die down

except for the after hours

the words played in the back of your mind like a looped record taped in a foreign language

you want to ask so much but you don't know where you would start without putting your heartbreak on display , int the same sense you wanted to hear nothing about Taehyung , hurt preceeding anything that came after the name eversince he left you , abandoned and alone

you are not clearly sure what your mind is on as you straddle Jaehoon's thighs kissing him in a desperate attempt to keep him here , in the four walls of your apartment telling you everything that enables your selfish heart

his lips are soft even when they compete with yours for dominance as your hands work on the buttons of his shirt , youy fingers trailed down the man's sculpted chest on their way down to his unbuckled belt

you break the kiss but Jaehoon is too far  gone as his tongue wets your neck in sloppy movements

you want to feel Jaehoon, give him all of you from your heart to every thought that crosses your mind but your eyes moisten at the caution presented with each of passing memories

what would Jaehoon think of you if he knew of the vividly daunting gaze , image of a particular pair of dark eyes making a cameo in your mind denies you

Like in this twisted mess you feel the need to save a part of yourself for Taehyung, held captive by those eyes

You owe him nothing, a tiny rational part of you should assure you of that above everything else, Taehyung betrayed you  , he abandoned you without warning or regard for your felings and everything Jaehoon amongst many others had been telling you about Taehyung along with wshat you had witnessed cortesy of your own two eyes , should set you free once and for all

yet all you can think as you feel Jaehoon's mouth leave a trail of wet kisses down the column of your throat is how Taehyung didnt't even need to like you back

if he already held such a reputation why could he not use you just like he did with all those people that others hinted at, why could it never be you

are you simply not woman enough , what does Jaehoon see in you

his tongue soflty trails down your collarbone , nearing where he just usually halts ,it has been nearly four months since you started dating and even though it was your fault that he never took it further or made a fuss over the matter he  was incredibly patient with you which only fuels  an insecurity or a few in this instance as your hands develope a mind of their own reachin for the buttons of his white shirt while you stay put in his lap , rounding  your hips at a cautious pace with hope that you are at least making the man beneath you feel something

if you took it any further today , your current and fourth boyfriend would be your third sexual partner and it made you nervous to give yourself away for the first time to antoher man since your last relationship that ended in tears almost two years ago

your college career having not been the experience you dremed of after highschool

you had lost your virginty at a beer pong party after your friend you went to the same highschool with ditched you , loosen up she'd said.

you got tipsy and laid with the Campus flirt Park Jimin

of course you felt embarrassed with no evaluation of your skills left at hand with the guy being high himself letting yuo know that he was sorry for not remembering your name after you greeted him at the stairs

he actively avoided you since then

''he never beds the same girl twice ''

it was creepy that your roommate knew that but she often confessed her fondness of Jimin's rumored skills

skills you momentarily remember and feel embarrassed for ,you were never particularly regretful but you weren't exactly proud either

your second official relationship came in your sophomore year , Christopher , you stayed together for two years with him being your senior of two years ahead ,you coul thank the guy for your current aversion to sex  deciding that maybe sex just wasn't for you

after he openly comapared you to the many of his encounters ''for the pretty face on you , you are pretty useless ''

he was rather vocal often sharing about his own aversion towad you sense of personal style

''you know us guys like ladies that invest a little into their appearances , a little make up to keep me interested''

he always made sure to praise himself for his ''admirable sex skills'' which you could only agree with him as he critiqued yours with his eyes rolling back at the height of his climax

of course you took his word and ran with it , your self esteem somewhere in the ground warming your grave

you started wearing makeup, tried for the fashionnova dresses but he would always have something to say

"what are you wearing and - oh dear what - is that supposed to be make up"

and you'd be back to your long skirts at the choice of words

"you make the most awkward slut I have ever come across, everything about this, -'

A hand would pointer scan your body before he continued

"Is just so off putting, I hope you haven't burned those old sacks .''

even when the guy cheated you took full accountability , the blame he put on your name reasoning as follows

''you pushed me to it."

you begged him, you'd do better

What were you even on about?

You swore to never inconvenience another again but you ended up committing to Joel days into your internship ,it was short lived when he ghosted you and you ended things glad to not have gotten sexual yet

you met Taehyung in the same year, your emotional attachment to him made you week in the knees, gave you butterflies and somewhere in between your legs you discovered the wonders of your clit , orgasms

and that sadly summed up your sexual history and with that being said...Could you possibly satisfy the man in front of you?

your palms are sweating and you think you are panicking as Jaehoon goes further, palms beneath your blouse while yours reach the top of his belt

you feel further guarded as he throws his head back to watch you and what you do next

"god you are so pretty- wait"

your eyes find his as you freeze in your spot and slowly retract your hands

it's like he could see the blazing questions

"no you didn't do anything wrong baby, I just want to make sure that we are on the same page... if you go any further I won't be able to hold back"

a hand goes to tuck your hair behind your ear and the safety you feel in this present moment is foreign for the position you are in

"I'm ready".

he gave you a kiss on the cheek before you would find your body laid on your back , your blouse open wide leaving a black bralette between your nipples and the hungry gaze above you

suddenly aware that this was the first time Jae saw you naked like this you move your hands but before they can get anywhere he lunges forward and starts kissing the plump flesh of your breasts exposed above your bra

his hand works behind you to rid you of the material while his mouth leaves kitten licks on your flesh leaving you you squealing at the pleasure

You help him take his shirt off as he undressed you so quickly and the next thing you know you are both naked, you scan his features and await the venom

you wait for the bad news, the creative synonyms to the words

'you are huggable but not fuckable sentences you have come to find truth in .

it never comes, his fingers trace your curves down your navel and down your folds that are eager for the foreign attention that his thumb on your clit presents

''can I taste you?''

a sensation so delicious that you momentarily loose track of your nervousness and mutter a yes at a whispered breath .

All you have done is lay there, almost out of it , your eyes glancing at the ceiling somewhat scared to look between your legs where Jaehoon's tongue probes on your opening, your fingers settled in his hair as a familiar knot threatens to break loose and your thighs dare to close around Jaehoon's head

"Ngggmn , Tae-"

and you let loose, twitching with the feeling of his tongue tipping you to an uncomfortable urge until you're pushing his head off your cunt

he is on top of you in a moment and you grab his head and go straight for his lips,  you cannot help but want more when the tip of his member sits heavy and hot on your entrance making your breath hitch for the nth time and when he parts himself from your body to get a condom from his wallet you feel a mix of excitement and nervousness settling a tend in your mind

You feel strange, sex feels different from what you're used to even when he is so slow with his movements intrusion, like you could break if he went any faster but you prefer it this way, you have witnessed fast and you wouldn't wish to be there again if it posed threat to what Jaehoon gives you

With your second orgasm you cling tightly to Jaehoon with strings of nonsense going together with what you hope to be his name

'Jaehoon ' 'Jae' 'oh Jae'

You are too far gone when he smirks in appreciation and mention

"Look who finally remembered my name"

words that fly over your fucked out head as he releases into the condom inside you before laying there on top you while you get closer to sleep

Jae had lightly chuckled catching his breath and lifting his weight off you  to lay on his side balancing by elbow

you turn to mirror him and in this moment you feel him , the slight ache between your legs remaining a remainder of what you just did , you stare dead into your boyfriend's eyes , you seem to be looking for something and when h opens his mouth your mind raves , the effect eveident on the widening sight of your eyes

''who's Tae?"

you once again found yourself frozen in place , unable to part your eyes from Jaehoon who looks at you expectantly

''what?''

he breaks out into a fit of laughter , his hand coming to caress your hair before leaving a kiss on your forehead

"god , I'm going to puch someone if you react like that -''

he cradles you into his embrace

''but just for clarity , there is no such dude right?''

you shook your head reassuring shortly after

'' you've got nothing to worry about'' .

oh how hilarious you could be

-

Jaehoon was a good man , you had concluded that much as the many months spent by his side suddenly turned into a full year void of the usual flaws in your choice of men and even then you found yourself searching still of reasons to run away , to abandon your loving and caring boyfriend before he would eventually realize the shell of a woman you were , the real repulsive you that even with all this makeover the people in your office building still overlooked

you wanted to leave so many times , strange times when you spent time apart to do your respective jobs, times where your lives got too busy and you were suddenly so aware of how different the two of you were

times in thought that would be replaced the instant Jaehoon would be spotted in your peripheral view with your favourite flowers in one hand and food in another

at times you would eat in the office , have your mini dates in his department and each time he never failed to amaze you with how romantic he could get , even during those boardroom meetings he would still correct your notes so cutely and it amazed you how he could hold your hand under the table and still look so professional while you sat there flustered and blushing like an idiot .

The subject and memory of Taehyung had overtime turned into somewhat of a foggy sight , so distant yet so vivid at times

you had muted the company updates over six months ago to keep your conscience clear of anything that related to him , of course word of mouth was still a bit hard to escape but you worked around it , tuning your coworkers out with earbuds and by lessening your breaks to places out of the office , it was strangely exciting to you when you rushed up the stairs you saw Taehyung ascend on so many occasions  without any clear sense of direction  to take you to the rooftop

It was strangely lonely up there , so far above the ground as you stared at the spot you once recognized him from a couple of times and the thought makes you shed a few tears for whatever reason and it becomes a habit of yours to just go up the stairs whenever you get a bit agitated 

it has been exactly 15 months since he left 

another spring already approaching with the trees you stare down at in a distance collecting all your attention

the skies are nearly grey yet you are smiling looking at nothing in particular

he is almost sure that it's you

your hair is down , blowing in all crazy directions with the wind 

 

it's you , he knows it's you when his own features warm up and take on an expression similar to the one you wear , even when the peaceful expression on your face belongs elsewhere it is all it takes for him to feel right at home

"do you think they will like me "

even when he makes room on his arm to accommodate the woman linking her arm to his his gaze lingers a bit longer , a breathy chuckle making it past the amused curl of his lips as he takes her hand into his placing a small kiss at the back muttering

"is it wrong for me to hope that they don't"

his playful gaze meets Hana's set one

"baby , I'm serious "

"there would be something gravely wrong with them if they didn't , besides , everyone has been so eager to meet you". he assures before peppering kisses at the back of her hand

that was all he could say as he led her inside , to maintain some professionalism he keeps a hand at the small of her back and as they endure the whispers and greetings on their way to the elevator

"you look amazing" he assures her like he knows what's at the tip on her nervous tongue

when the elevator doors open there stood everyone , confetti going up into the air , the green screen behind reading welcome back Taehyung , and Welcome Hana

he is Modest, shaking hands and giving thanks(es) and some strings of this is too much guys you really didn't have to

the non alcoholic beverage is poured out for everyone, leaving a bunch of glasses empty on the table

It is by random reasoning that Mirae takes a note of your presence and proceeds to question

"where did Y/n go "

"did she skip to go to Jaehoon again ?huh , that rude girl -"

"Sunbae , don't say  stuff like that , it's really no big deal"

he just arrived and he is back to your defense

The room takes a slight awkward turn at the approaching sound of your heels making your presence known before so much as your silhouette emerges in hindsight , the sudden influx of attention shifts from Taehyung and Hana's welcome celebration to your entrance heads turning to your direction and conversations taking a pause to leave room for the usual whispers and some snide remarks

"If only we could all seduce some men of prominent position ".

Mirae.

you want to ignore everyone and just proceed to your seat but something, someone, two people stand flashy amidst the chaos and that makes your ears ring

grey three piece suit, jet-black hair combed backwards in style , you are genuinely taken back and your eyes remain the selling point as they drift to the shiny pedant  linked around Taehyung's arm by association, a limp that is obviously not a part of crisp suit but it bodes so well you have to take a quick look

She stands confidently beside her boyfriend, radiating elegance .Luscious brown hair cascades down her back in soft, loose waves, framing her heart-shaped face that accommodates her bright, warm smile. Her piercing brown eyes sparkle with kindness, and her smooth, caramel-hued skin glows with a subtle sheen.

A fitted yet professional blue dress tat looks tailor made just for her highlights all the key points of her toned physique and you have to look away at the realisation that you have not said a word in a hot minute

wow

you offer your greetings, politely returning a small awkward smile of your own to the woman, a simply polite smile that remains even as you meet Taehyungs eyes in a split second that takes control of time

not much has changed, he wears a kind smile, it has nothing behind it , it is just simply polite and you realize for the first time in a long time

It was always you and you alone, casting a net of your delusions over this poor man you could as well have misunderstood

it's in this split second that your coworker hands you a glass and pours champagne for you that you cheers the couple and seal the thoughts of the past with a swig of the non alcoholic sparkles of your glass

In this instant you find yourself accepting and ridden in the closure you have only thought and dreamed of , in this moment you respect Taehyung as your work superior and have no intention to mistake his kindness for anything other than simply that

even so, for your own protection you shan't go beyond the mental arms length boundary set in place

You shan't assume Taehyung's kindness for friendship and you shan't harbour any feelings of resentment for never hearing from him for over a year

you have no right to , it was simply a wrong signal on your end because if it weren't and Taehyung was indeed your friend you would dissolve any sort of ties with him, that would make the workplace unpleasant but you're glad this is not the case.

......to be continued

😃

phew , this was quite tough to write, it took so long because I complicated things with sending Taehyung away but I ended up having so much fun with writing it 😭

I hope that you guys enjoy it , reblogs and written feedback are highly appreciated 💌🎀

Do Not Copy OR Translate OR Repost OR steal 😡

[rubyreduji]

reading and doing — ljh

summary: jihoon catches you reading fanfic about him

tags: smut (minors dni!), gn!reader, idol!jihoon, pre-established relationship, lowkey crack warnings: badly written dirty talk, small dick jihoon <3, explicit unprotected sex, dom(ish) jihoon, choking, restraint for a sec, spit used as lube, fingering, rough sex, fingers in mouth, creampie wc: 2.3k an: a meta ass fanfic. i tried to keep it gn so pls don’t mention the use of certain words okay bye

Woozi thrusts his thick, large juicy cock into your soaking wet pussy and you squeal in delight.

A giggle escapes from your throat as you read the sentence. You will never not be amused by how people like to describe Jihoon’s dick in their writing.

“What’s so funny over there?” Jihoon asks as he turns his desk chair to look at you where you sit on his studio couch. 

“Oh nothing,” you tell him, a small grin still plastered on your face. 

Jihoon knows better than that and stands up and walks over to you. Before you can react Jihoon plucks your phone out of your hand and looks at what you were reading. A look of confusion mixed with disgust appears on his face.

“What is this?”

You snatch your phone back from him. “Fanfiction. About you specifically.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means Carats write stories about you, usually about you and them being a couple. The stuff I read is mostly sex stories, but some of the slice of life stuff is cute too,” you explain with a shrug.

“Sex stories?!” Jihoon now looks more worried than anything else.

“Yeah, they’re kinda funny. Everyone thinks you have a big dick.” You know your boyfriend isn’t insecure about his size, whether it’s his height or…other parts of him, but you still like to playfully tease him every once in a while.

“I don’t know why the Carats would want to write something like that.”

“It lets them be delusional about being with you, let them have it Jihoonie.”

“It sounds like something Mingyu would like. You know how he is about fan interactions.”

“Oh there’s a lot for Mingyu!” You tell Jihoon. “I don’t read them though of course, I only read yours.”

“That I also don’t get. Why even read them when you have the real thing.”

“Because it’s fun! I like to see how people characterize you. The one I’m reading is just for shits and giggles, but some of them are actually good. Here.” You scroll on your phone until you find your folder of saved fics and pull up one of your favorites.

Jihoon takes your phone from you and reads a couple of lines before scrunching up his face and shaking his head. “I still don’t get it. You can’t actually find stuff like this hot.”

“I don’t know, it kind of is. I know you better than anyone else so I can just put you in those situations. It’s fun. I read them when you’re away on tour.”

This gets another dramatic look out of Jihoon. “You do not.”

“I miss you okay! And you’re always busy so I just go to the next best thing. If it makes you feel better sometimes I’ll also put on Ruby when I’m masturbating and just listen to that to get off.”

“Okay and now this conversation has taken a whole new turn.”

You giggle. “C’mon Hoonie, just read this with me. It’ll be fun! Maybe you’ll even find you like them.”

“I’m not sure how I’ll find enjoyment in reading what someone else has written about me.”

“You need to take a break anyways, please!” You give him your best puppy dog eyes and Jihoon glares at you but sits down on the couch.

“I don’t even know why I’m doing this,” he grumbles.

“Because you love me. And you’re secretly curious.”

Jihoon moves so your body is between his legs, your back leaning against his front. His head rests on your shoulder as you hold the phone up to read the fic. 

“This is technically a few chapters into a series but I really enjoy the smut so if the plot doesn’t make sense, don’t mind it.”

“Y/N this ridiculous-”

“Shhh, just read.” 

Jihoon listens to you and you can tell he is actually reading the fic from the small grunts he lets out in reaction to the story. There’s a bit of plot at the start before it gets into the smut and Jihoon stops you at a moment when you can scroll to it.

“Do people really like this? They want to see me in these situations?”

“Oh come on Jihoon you know what the fans think of you. You can’t be totally oblivious. You read your comments and I know you have a burner Twitter.”

Jihoon doesn’t have a rebuttal for that and you smile knowing you’re right. 

“Y/N I really do have work I need to-”

“Wait no, this is the good part.” You lean all of your body weight on Jihoon so he can’t get up, even though you know realistically he’s strong enough to displace you if he really wanted to. Jihoon just huffs and allows you to keep him hostage.

You try not to giggle as you read the smut, especially because you can tell Jihoon is invested. The smut in the fanfic that you picked isn’t anywhere near how Jihoon actually acts in bed and you wish you could see his face to see if he’s either intrigued or disgusted.

“Do people actually think I’m this mean?” Jihoon finally says and you laugh.

“Some people. You can be kinda mean sometimes. I think on camera you come off as standoffish,” you say. “But a lot of people think you’re sweet too. Also people are just kinky like that and enjoy this stuff.”

“Do you? You know I’m nothing like this.”

“I think you’re perfect the way you are. Don’t think me reading this stuff is me actually wanting you to be like this, I just think it’s fun to picture you in different scenarios. I mean, if people wrote smut about me would you want to read it?”

“I don’t know, I’ve never thought about it, because that’s weird to think about,” Jihoon grunts.

“Getting defensive there Hoonie?”

“Just shut up and go back to reading,” Jihoon grumbles.

“Oh you want to go back to reading? So you like it?”

“I just want you to shut up.” 

You do shut up, but only because you want Jihoon to continue reading.

The fic is getting to your favorite part when things start to get really intense. You have to give props to the writer for really going in. You know that you would never be able to find such…colorful language to use to describe the things you and Jihoon get up to.

You can feel Jihoon shift behind you. A small smirk spreads on your face when you feel the smallest bit of bulge press into your lower back. Jihoon likes this. 

“You okay back there Jihoonie?” You wiggle your hips a bit and Jihoon lets out a huff that you’re pretty sure is hiding a moan. “Enjoying this?”

“No.” His voice sounds tense and he answered a little too quickly to not be suspicious.

“It’s okay if you do Ji. It’s a bit of an ego boost isn’t it? Knowing all these people find you’re hot. I know this fic is particularly well liked, it has nearly three thousand interactions on it, and then all of the people who have read it without interacting. Do you like that? Three thousand people want to fuck you Hoonie.”

“I-I don’t-”

“Even if you don’t find that hot, isn’t the actual story kind of sexy? Just imagine it’s you and me in this scenario. Don’t you wanna be tangled up together as you fuck my brains out?”

“Y/N,” Jihoon whines. “Stop.”

“Stop? Stop what? Teasing you? No, I think you like it, just like how you liked the fanfic. Doesn’t it sound fun? Don’t you wanna do mean things to me while telling me how pretty I am?”

“Th-”

“Admit it baby, you like thinking about putting your big, fat cock into me.” You know you’re taking a gamble with your choice of words but it seems to work because Jihoon finally breaks.

You feel Jihoon’s hand come up around your neck and slam your body back into his. “Maybe I do.” His mouth is right next to your ear and you have to admit you do let out a shudder. “You want me to do mean things to you?”

“I think you want to do mean things to me.”

“Maybe I do, what then?”

“Then what are you waiting for?”

That’s all Jihoon needs to flip you both over, position himself over you. You definitely were not expecting to awaken a new kink in Jihoon when you told him to read the fic with you, but you’re definitely not complaining.

Jihoon keeps his loose grip around the base of your neck as he leans down to lock his lips with yours. The kiss is harsh and hurried and it doesn’t take long for Jihoon to stick his tongue in your mouth. He licks at your mouth and you arch your body into his.

His body rests between your legs and you can feel him grind down against you, his dick already fully hard. Jihoon’s mouth pops off of yours with a loud smacking sound. His hand moves off of your neck and trails down your body before it makes it to the hem of your shirt. He pushes his hand up under it, his fingertips making contact with the warm skin of your stomach.

He rubs his palm over your waist before moving higher to grope at your chest. His finger flicks over your nipple and you moan. Jihoon chuckles at this.

“Clothes off,” he growls as he pulls away from you. You quickly comply, stripping down to nothing as Jihoon does this same.

His cock is already slick with pre-cum at the tip and you have the urge to get on your knees and suck him off. Jihoon doesn’t allow this though, as he pushes you back onto the couch. You’re definitely worked up yourself by now and Jihoon can tell.

“Needy little thing, aren’t you?”

“You’re one to talk,” you bit back. 

“Ah, but I’m the one in control here.” Jihoon grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. “Aren’t I?”

“Hoon-ah, please,” you beg.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me.”

Jihoon grins. “Glady.”

Jihoon lets go of your hands and brings his fingers up to his lips. You watch as he spits on the digits before moving them down to play with your entrance. You buck your hips into his hand and Jihoon uses his other hand to push them back down.

After what feels like an eternity of teasing Jihoon finally pushes one finger into you and you let out a mewl. Jihoon pumps it in and out of you until you start to loosen up and then he shoves another one into you. He continues to do this over again until you’re finally adequately opened up.

“Ready for me?”

You nod and Jihoon lines his cock up to you and pushes in. It’s a comfortable, familiar feeling as Jihoon starts to rock his hips into you. Jihoon is buried balls deep into you when he grabs your leg and hikes up over his shoulder.

Whereas Jihoon is usually soft and slow with you, he’s now fast and hard as he slams his cock into you deeper and deeper. Jihoon has always been an adequate lover, but now you get what people mean by it’s not the size but how it’s used.

Jihoon locks one of his hands around your thigh, digging his fingertips into the fat there. You’re sure you’re going to bruise later, but you don’t care right now. His other hand reaches down and cups your jaw. His thumb swipe over your lower lip before pressing down.

“You right, you do look pretty like this,” Jihoon smirks down at you. This thumb presses harder into your bottom lip until Jihoon finally pushes it all the way into your mouth, pushing down on your tongue. “Next time I’m going to tie you up and make you choke on my cock.”

You whine around Jihoon’s thumb at the image. It’s a good thing Jihoon is blocking you from saying anything because you’re sure if you tried it would just be utter nonsense.

With the way Jihoon is cramming up your g-spot you know you’re not going to last much longer. Luckily it seems like Jihoon is close as well from the concentration displayed on his face.

“Fuck, gonna cum inside, yeah?” You just nod the best you can.

You’re expecting Jihoon to cum first, but your climax creeps up on you and suddenly your legs are shaking as your back arches up off the couch. Your eyes roll back into your head as you let out a wanton moan.

Seeing you fucked out thorougly makes Jihoon spill over the edge finally, his warm cum spilling into you. He stays in you for a moment to catch his breath. He leans down to press kisses to your bare shoulder, nipping at the skin as he does.

Once you two finally have recovered, Jihoon slowly pulls out of his. You can feel his cum slide out of you as he does and it makes you whimper a bit.

“You were so good for me,” Jihoon coos.

“So you liked it?” You grin at him.

He defeatedly nods. “Yeah, yeah I did.”

“Yay! See Hoonie, look at all the doors this has opened. Maybe we should read more fanfiction together.”

“No, nope. We discovered this one thing, no more.” With that Jihoon gets up to go get you some water and a rag to clean up with.

Despite his final protests, you still feel victorious as you grab your phone and scroll down to the comments of the fic you two were reading.

You’re not going to understand this, but thank you SO MUCH for writing this fic, you’re the best &lt;3

taglist: @pandorashbox @leejihoonownsmyheart @soonhoonietrash @chaimi-yuta @embrace-themagic @kayleeshinee @joonsytip @heyxxitsxxtay @synthetickitsune @chwecardcaptor @candidupped @dreamhannies @d0nghyck @niyizh @baldi-2 @enhacolor @noniestars @heavenly-mobo @sunnyteume @debsworld23 @m1nghaos @just-here-to-read-01 @blxckswxnxge @17kwans @jeanjacketjesus @x-veex @namjoonbaby @ovai @belladaises @todorokiskitten @jihoonliker @valentxi @1694 @niktwazny303 @brxzilianbaby @moshiyuron @im-gemmy @honeylovemoon @wonchansbrooklynn @opwolfe @luvthatleader-nim @cbgisland @lorde-oftherings @hoeforcheol @hotricewoozi @prpldahy @nox-writes @wujihoons @0717luv @yeosayang @marzmeltdown @calvinkleinhoon

join my taglist: here!

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 35

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4.7k

A/N: Happy New Year! This is a double update. This is the first of the two. Chapter 37 will be our last chapter. I can't believe it and I'm lowkey in mourning. I hope you enjoy.

Things are weird. 

Your mother fixes her jaw and exhales when you come home in Javier’s oversized shirt. Thankfully she ignores it. You quickly realize you guys became that couple. That couple that could never get their shit together and made everyone else suffer with anticipation. 

Well, you weren’t a couple just yet. But still. 

You shrug and continue to have a surprisingly decent time with your mother. You laugh even. Granted, she had a glass of wine to loosen. Still, you laughed and leaned into each other and you didn’t feel hurt, or alone. You wonder if maybe this was the way to feel good. To intake your family in moderation. She even compliments your cooking. 

Dinner is lovely, your mothers husband is quite the storyteller. An unserious man, your mother covers Sol’s ears a few times and tosses a napkin at him. Vein in the middle of her head pressing tightly from her laughter. 

When Sol is put to bed by her father, you and your mother clean the kitchen. It reminds you of your junior year. It was just you and her in the house. It was a year where you felt like it was good between you two. You had a boyfriend, you had friends. You were distracted. She had just started seeing James. The two of you were effectively out of each other's paths until dinner. You’d eat, then you’d do the dishes together, shoulder to shoulder. With the water running and pruney fingers you were able to forget the pain associated with being her daughter. 

You’re twenty four now, and it's hard to be distracted.

You suppose it’s hard for her too. 

“I’m sorry for the way I handled everything with your father. A few years ago.”

Your brows furrow, lips chapping. Still scrubbing a dish, she’s holding the next one. You look at her briefly, proceeding with caution, “oo-kay.” 

“I never knew how to be your mother. I was cold to you– I am.” She clears her throat and her tipsy eyes disappear. A sober thought. “I feel like I pushed you away. You never want to be here.”

You nearly scramble to tell her it's okay, that she had done nothing wrong. Blame yourself a little. Hug her, wipe her wet eyes and hug her again. That's the part of you that's still weak, that still wants a mom. But really, she had done wrong. And you’re a big girl now. So you nod and continue the dishes.

“I don’t like being here. It’s too painful of a reminder.” You wring the sponge when your hands get soapy, moving another plate to the dish rack. A sniffle comes from your right. 

“I can't fix it now. I don’t even need you to forgive me. But I’ve noticed that you call me less, that you reduced visits to once a year. I haven't made it easy. Your father was–um-” Her voice breaks and you finally look at her. She’s got more wrinkles around her eyes, age spots growing. Her brown hair peppered with gray curls. Time moves fast, she’s getting older. She looks young when she cries. “I know that you and Javier…I don’t know if you were together but– I know that you love him, then he came here after you met your father  and It clicked, how much he cared-”

You cross your arms. “Then you helped him marry another woman.” 

“I was angry– it’s not an excuse but at the time the way he spoke to me made me irrational. He hit me with a reality I was too selfish to accept. I was spiteful. To me… your father was my Javier. I don’t need you to feel bad but I need you to know.” She shakes her hands off in the sink, grabbing a hand towel and turning just like you. Shoulder to shoulder still, just with your backs to the sink. Your silence is read as an invitation to keep talking. And it is, your mother wipes her nose.

“James has been making me go to a therapist. He made me go because we took Sol to the park and we were watching her… and he asked me, I bet you miss when Andrea was this small, I bet you miss taking her to the park.”

“You never took me to the park.” You whisper, voice cracking despite your protests. 

“I never took you to the park.” She responds. “He made me go after that. When you were born I was in so much duress from your father that I couldn't nurse. My body was shutting down and I couldn’t even get up to look at you in that little incubator they had you in. They said I had Postpartum depression. I–I was– I am a woman of god, I grew up in the church and on the island– that medical talk of depression– I rejected the help.” She takes a deep breath in. “Then I stayed spiteful, and angry and distant. None of it was your fault but I felt so– I saw you and then I saw your father and I would feel the pain I felt when I caught him doing drugs. Andrea, estaba tan perdida. El tiempo pasa rápido y sólo quiero ser parte de tu vida. Te pido disculpas hija.” She sobs and the sound is awful.

Not even you are immune to the cries of your mother.

You place your hand on hers and let her cry.

Yeah, it’s fucking weird. 

It’s weirder when you stay up the entire night avoiding thinking about the conversation with your mother. 

Editing your welcome back lesson plan, a draft in your hotel room and the sheets feel itchier than ever. And everything seems to bother you and you nearly shut your notebook, rev up your rental and speed over to Javier’s house. 

The two of you did not sleep before your dinner with your mother. Instead the two of you just chatted in whispers. Nails circling his chest, fingerprints tight on your arm. Then, in bed with him, you have a thought that’s weird. 

That scares you. That you banish in the moment and shift closer into his ribs. So close he grunts with a laugh. 

But alone on the floral sheets of a room so foreign it comes back. 

What if the chase is over and he realizes that you could be anyone? What if you aren’t all that he made you up to be. 

What if it’s all said and done and he’s no longer excited. He loves you, but it isn’t the same. If he changes his mind when he realizes a future with you entails no mess, an easy love. What if the broken parts of you are only fun when you have to keep his attempt to heal you a secret? 

You don’t want the chase anymore but what if he’s fallen in love with the chase?

Then you feel like shit. Wanting to pinch yourself at the silly thought. Hasn’t he shown you how badly he wants this?

Then you wonder why it hasn’t worked the first 100 times. Then you wonder if this whole thing, you, putting him on trial is just another way for you to keep the chase. You realize you’re more afraid than you put on. You’re afraid that when he has you, you won’t be worth staying with. You won’t be worth coming back to. 

You wished you knew your therapist's number by heart. You needed her last night. 

You cried the entire night. It was one of those nights where you stared at yourself until you felt sad and spiraled and thought of all of the pain you feel. 

You thought of Lucas of course, of your father. You no longer felt the need for him but the stain of his absence bleeds into every decision made, into every negative thought. 

He was your Lorraine. 

Never present but somehow in control of your life. God you fucking hated that. 

You don’t think of these things back in New York. Sure, you’re reminded when you’re sitting across your therapist but it’s detached. You aren’t anchored the way you are here. When you’re home it all feels so real, it’s in the fucking air. Yet you still call it home. You call Laredo home before New York. You have another scary thought. 

You wonder if Javier in New York will keep you anchored in the trauma that comes from being home. 

You want to scream at the thought, the guilt you feel is probably fear. You’re afraid, so your brain is making excuses and thoughts that never existed before. Yet, it still makes you heave. You hold yourself to sleep.

You cry so much that when you wake up the next morning you feel hungover. Headpoudning, lids sore to the touch. The sort of breakdown that makes you embarrassed when you wake up. Your feet are cold against the floor when you graze the room aimlessly, forcing yourself to shower. 

You close your eyes and picture his hands running over your shoulders, down to the front of your chest. His big rough hands contrast the softness of your breasts, the way you’d pebble against his palm. Left hand parts you. You touch yourself and finish quickly with his name on your lips. 

It’s the 30th and you’ll be on the road to  Houston tonight. You hope to God these foolish thoughts are banished by then. You just want a break from all these thoughts. You want it to feel like Louisiana. 

The shower does not wash the dread. 

You reach for the phone. 

Javier’s room never gets this sort of light. It’s delightful but also tells him just how fucking dusty this place is. It also exposes him, quite rudely, to how childish the place is. He cringes a bit when he pictures his body over yours on that full sized bed. Rutting into you, your legs over his shoulder. Then he thinks of how it used to feel to be inside of you and he doesn’t give a fuck about how his room looks. 

Against the wall is his bed, pictures scattered on the arch of the ceiling. The part of his room he likes best, his low lofted vaulted ceiling where he placed posters throughout his adolescence. He thinks of the nights you spent in his bed, your feet pressed against the ceiling to “stretch”. There’s a rip on the corner of his Queen poster from your toes. You squealed and apologized but Javier couldn’t stop laughing at your concern for a little rip. He kissed you to sleep that night, kissed you until you dropped your legs from the ceiling. 

You had so many days like that, just together. So many nights sneaking around, library dates, picking you up from work. Those two months were bliss. He wants more, he wants his whole life to be those moments of nothing. Those tiny poster ripping and giggling moments with you. 

He doesn’t have to pack much, it’s just two nights. It’s not like he unpacked completely anyway. He moves three outfits into a duffel bag, cigarette dangling from his lips. Grunts when he stands and makes his bed. 

Floorboards creak and there’s two knocks at the doorframe of his room. Javier turns and beckons Chucho in with a head nod. His father has been distant lately, not in a way that bothers him but in a way that he’s proud of.

 Javier loves his dad, but man was he always in his damn business. Always home, always making a face when Javier would leave the room after sneaking you out. Laughing and going back to his crossword. He’s been seeing some lady which Javier’s actually quite pleased with. Her name is Michelle apparently, she’s a widow who has been struggling with up keeping her land since she lost her husband back in ‘86. They met 3 years ago, he’d come by and help, for free. This year he asked her to dinner, which he called Javier about whether or not you wear a tie to that sort of thing. 

Now he spends most nights in her home. 

Javier sits down onto his bed because his father has that face on him. That face he gives him when he wants to talk. He grunts the same way Javier does when he pulls out Javier’s desk chair and sits. He looks at Javier’s duffel bag then at the cigarette between his son's fingers. 

Chucho taps the worn wood. “You just got here.” 

Javier fights the urge to sigh, but he sympathizes with him. It does feel strange to leave home when he’s been gone for so long. “It’s barely two days.  I’ll be back around six in the afternoon on the first.” 

He gives a quick nod, “I’m getting old.” Javier’s brows furrow.

“Don’t look it.”

Chucho chuckles, shaking his head. “Are you going alone? To Houston.”

He thinks he knows where this is going. One of those warning talks, you can’t do this to her again Javi, I can’t allow it. Javier doesn’t care for those talks anymore, he’s working too hard. “Andrea is coming with me. I’m picking her up from her moms place at seven.”

His father presses his lips together and leans further into the chair with a slow nod. The sun passes behind some trees and makes the room dark for a second. Javier’s brow quivers, confused by his fathers body language. 

“What?” Javi snaps. 

His father sighs, “Nothing, I’m just getting old.”

“You’re only sixty-two– why do you keep saying that?” 

“I’m saying that because I want to at least have working knees when you have grandchildren.” Javi leans forward still in confusion so his father lets out another sigh, “Jesús Cristo, I’ve been watching you and that girl run in circles for almost eleven years. Even though my opinion doesn’t matter, obviously, she’s the only person I’ve ever wanted you to be with. I thought it wasn’t the best idea a few years ago, you know, seeing how hurt she was but she was only that way when you were apart. This is looking like your last chance son, she’s leaving this time.” 

Javier brushes his jaw, sometimes he forgets that everyone else has witnessed their little love despite their best efforts to keep it hidden. The silence lingers, thick and heavy, Javier thinks of what his life would look like without you and it’s dark, his stomach pits in a way that terrifies him. 

“I-“ Javi begins but he’s unsure of what he wants to say. But he knows that there’s no wrong answer under his dads watch. So he speaks from somewhere else, “She’s it for me. I’ll do anything in my power to make it work. She’s accepted me at my worst, she has taken care of me I-I can’t bear to be without her. Ella es mi vida.” It’s from that organ that keeps him alive, from that spot that aches when she—when you’re not around, that spot beats for you. He feels no fear and the face of his father softens greatly. 

It seems as though he gets younger with this look, “Well then, I have something for you.”

Now, if someone would have told you, say, three days ago that you’d be in your childhood bedroom with your brother and your mother talking about Javier— Hah! You’d cackle straight in their face.

Well, desperate times. You needed to clear your mind and also you wanted to raid your old closet of clothes for some last minute packing before Javier comes to get you. 

You called your mother back at the hotel. You asked if you could come over, and she was, well, still Melissa Diaz.

 Complaining, frantic about her dinner plans she made with some ladies at the church but ultimately said —“Whatever, bring wine.” 

You laughed to yourself. 

You’ve always sympathized with your mother. Despite her cold demeanor and strange moral code, you felt for her. 

Being apart from her felt good, fuck it, it was good. Your brain was clear of all the shit she put you through, you nearly forgot all those side comments she made to you growing up by being away from her for less than a year. She will never be a true mother to you. The only parent you’ve ever had was Chucho Peña, you’ve created peace with that. He’s been one hell of a parent. 

The conversation with your mother last night  shocked your system for a few hours, left you confused and then at peace. You imagined leaving, coming home maybe in March and making dinner with her a few nights. Then being able to pick up and go again. You pictured this possible relationship, one where she isn’t forgiven, but one you could grow with. Not to be an asshole, but with a personality like your mothers you wonder how anyone puts up with her for more than 7 hours at a time.

You won’t let her hurt you. 

That’s what you concluded, she can’t hurt you anymore. She’s trying to help herself and if you feel unsafe, if you feel fourteen again, you could always leave. That makes you feel secure. 

Then it terrified you, the thought of stability when all you’ve known is turbulence. 

So yes, you spiraled last night and cried and wondered if Javier would get bored, if he would leave and fuck, fuck, fuck you woke up this morning with such a headache. 

Your therapist suggested once to just–say it out loud, when you feel like your thoughts are crazy, tell it to someone so they could snap you out of it. 

The last person you ever thought you’d practice this with would be your mother yet somehow, despite being, you know, your mother, would have a fresh pair of ears. Because she truly has no idea what’s gone on in your life. 

And you invited Frankie too, because he was there and you needed someone to decipher how much of your recollection was delusion and how much reality. 

So, you’re all sharing a bottle of red wine on the carpeted floor of your bedroom. 

Just minutes earlier, Frankie pulled you aside while you uncorked the wine. 

Since when do you willingly make plans with me mom? 

You shrug and say, Don’t know. 

There’s that. 

“Okay, okay. Forgive me but I am confused. Javier was still— he was still with that girl? With Lorraine?”

You and Frankie groan in tandem. Your mother was a shitty listener sober, tipsy is a whole other story. You started off telling your mother and brother that you and Javier are trying this out again. Taking it slow, Frankie works his jaw but two minutes into your tangent he softens. 

I tried to give other people a chance, I just knew it would be one of those things. Where I'd find a good guy, someone who’s probably perfect and it would be easy. I know I would live my whole life grieving and feeling fucking—sorry mami—empty and alone and unhappy knowing Javier is out there somewhere either alone or with someone else. It would make me sick, physically I wouldn’t be able to recover. 

Frankie had cast his eyes to his lap, basking in the guilt he felt from keeping the two of you apart with his judgment and smothering need to be in control of those around him. Especially his sister and his best friend. It felt strange to say this to your mother and brother of all people, not because of the concept of a mother and brother. Not because it’s awkward to talk romance to family members. But because of the way they played the role of mother and brother, when you needed them most, they weren’t the safe spaces you’d hoped they’d be. 

Your mother on the other hand narrowed her eyes at you and for a moment you anticipated her to just ruin the whole thing. 

“Perdóname, pero ¿alguna vez... te metiste con Javier?” She says in a whisper that’s half slurred and half very very serious. Melissa’s shoulders are slumped like she’s trying to hide her question from your brother. 

Your brows raise to the top of your forehead, mouth agape your head snaps to look at your brother and his face is doing the same. 

And you burst out laughing. A laugh that probably could wake your sister and step-dad. But you and Frankie don’t care, you’re having that sort of laugh that has you physically rolling and heaving. Nearly knocking your wine glass over and then laughing at that. 

“Que!” Your mother exclaims, “What? Why do you laugh at me?!” She slaps Frankie's head. 

You wipe tears from your eyes.

“Mami.” You furrowed brows, “Really?”

“Yes… really.” She mocks you, “I was left out of the loop, you were always lying to me so I stopped caring!” 

“Jesus Christ.” Frankie exhales with another chuckle. Melissa pinches his arm. “Ow! Sorry!” 

“So I’m telling the whole thing then?” Your mother nods, while simultaneously rubbing the spot she just pinched on your brother's arm.

 Frankie nods too, “It’s not like I know all that went on either.” 

“Alright then.” You cleared your throat, taking a sip of merlot. You look at Frankie and point, “You aren’t allowed to get mad that a lot of this involved hiding things from you, okay?”

He put his hands in the air, “Water under the bridge nena.” 

“Obviously I had a crush on Javier when we were all close. It was childlike and fun to have for the most part but it felt very real for me. It feels real still,you know then he started dating Lorraine. I liked her, she was nice to me–”

“To your face. She would really pick fun at your crush behind your back.” Frankie cuts. You shrug, sipping again. Your mother shakes her head, muttering something under her breath.

“Yeah… I know that. Anyway, I never crossed any lines. I was… exploring… on my own but Javi was always there confusing me, flirting with me and just being around and there for me when I was alone. I was alone a lot and yes, we did kiss but that's all we did and it was when Lorraine cheated on him and they were broken up for a week.”

“She cheated?” 

You almost want to roll your eyes at the shock from your mother’s voice, she says it as if she knew her so well.

Frankie furrows his brows and turns to your mother, “I feel like I told you this.” 

She just shrugs, “I guess I forgot. Andrea, continue.”

You nod, “They got back together soon after, I had no idea he was leaving–none of us knew he was moving away. I just felt so tugged around those few months, so confused and uh–um I’m sorry.” You feel it again, you're there, in the kitchen and you’re only sixteen. Gripping onto the sink. You feel the brush of his thumb over your wrist and his eyes are searching your face. You wipe your tears that escaped. Your mother pats your ankle “On your graduation day Frankie, Javi told me that he would stay if I told him to. Genie is the only person I told about this. He put me in such a fucked up position, he knew how badly I wanted to be with him but I couldn’t do that to Lorraine. Now I wish I was selfish, it would have prevented so much pain if I just thought of myself for once. But I’m plagued by the need to be a good person. So we didn’t talk for six years and I dated Xavier– and mom, I know you liked him but he was horrible to me.” You run a hurried hand through your hair and peek a glance at your brother who stares at you with a set face of compassion. He hadn’t known about the night of his graduation and what really went down between the two of you and why you locked yourself away those first few days of summer. 

Your mother doesn’t argue with you, they have nothing to say now.  

Your tears don’t fall when your mind grazes that summer almost four years ago. Being together, really together. Kissing him, your illicit affair. A little love for the both of you. “We were together the entire time he was here in 1986, he came home and we knew, you know we had a plan for when he would go to Colombia.” Your mother still has that face of surprise that turned to revelation. Her mouth opens to speak but you get to it before her. “Yes mami, all those times you thought someone was in my room it was Javi. Especially the time when you came home and saw his car in the driveway.”

“Huh. And you called me crazy!”

“I had a feeling that whole time, I would call his house and he’d never be there.” Frankie laughs and you can’t believe this is the place you’re at. Your mother only making lighthearted comments and your brother laughing off this big secret that once wracked your heart in shame. 

“Yeah I lied a lot that summer. I wanted to protect what we had and after your wedding we were going to tell everyone and just be public.”

“Then Lorraine came home.” Frankie replies, and the room feels colder than it did a few seconds before. Your mother frowns, in your heart you hope she’s thinking of the ways she may have made that time harder for you. You hope she regrets it because no matter how clueless she makes herself out to be, she knew she was hurting you. You laugh because if not you’d be crying.

“Then she came home, so yeah. You all know how that went, and now he’s here for good. And I’m only here for a few more days.” And now you’re here, asking for advice without really asking for it. You just bring your knees to your chest hoping they can read your mind. Your glass is empty and you feel exposed in front of them, suddenly, embarrassed to let it all hang loose. 

There’s my story, although you’ve hurt me, please tell me how to end it. 

Your mother purses her lips and sits up straight, “So… Now you're with him?” 

You blink twice, “No, but me and him have… slept together- we are trying to figure it out.”

“Ew.” Frankie squeezes his eyes shut and your mother rolls her eyes.

“Grow up.” Your mother swats him again, “Why don’t you two just get it over with, you obviously love each other. I don’t think he’d mind moving with you.”

“It’s hard–it’s just there’s so much we have to work on… individually and he’s working on himself and I am too but there just feels like so much more– I just– we’re going to Houston tonight and I want to have a good time but all I can think of is how it–”

“Andrea.”

“-how fucked up this all has been. I know he’d leave with me now if I asked but what if we’re there living alone and he realizes he made a mistake –”

“Andrea.”

“He’s the only person I can ever-”

“Andrea!” Your brother shouts.

“What?” Your voice is shaking and you’ve lost track of the room it seems. 

Your mother has a pitying look and your brother’s eyes are blown out, he leans back into the wall and he closes his eyes for a moment in disbelief. “You are overcomplicating this. You’re doing that thing you do–”

“What-what thing?”

He sighs at your immediate defensiveness, he knows nothing, “That thing where you stop yourself from getting a good thing because you’re afraid–”

“I-I’m not afraid.” You lie.

“Andrea.” His tone is full of exhaustion, “Please, mom back me up.” He looks over at your mother and this feels ridiculous. What do they know? They barely know you they–they are only just learning.

“Si mija, from what you’ve told us and from the way he’s always been with you there's nothing to be worried about. This seems like the moment.”

Your lips feel chapped and your eyes blur over. Things are falling into place around you yet your mind is telling you things are still falling, you feel disconnected and heaviness in the middle of your chest.

 “I don’t know–”

Three loud beeps silence the room. You rush to your feet, nearly knocking over the wine bottle to your left and head to your bedroom window.

In the driveway, Chucho’s truck.

[sxcret-garden]

4th Desire ღ Hush, My Dear [M]

ღ Aspects of Desire series ღ Ateez Jongho x fem!reader ღ words: ~5.8k ღ genre: established relationship, college AU, fluff, some humor, slice of life, a bit of angst, smut (dom!Jongho, sub!reader, semi-public (they have to keep quiet cause reader’s family is literally in the other room), quickie, clothed sex, fingering, unprotected sex, pain kink, biting (idol receiving), he’s lowkey mean… again askjfkljas, orgasm denial, praise) ღ warnings: reader has a difficult relationship with her family, mentions of her mother trying to convince her to wear a dress to an event even though reader doesn’t like wearing them, mentions of a bad experience Jongho had in his past relationship, (him running his fingers through reader’s hair)

Desc.: Dinner with your family goes about as you expected - you’re slightly uncomfortable because of their choices in conversation topics and very much bored. Luckily, your boyfriend tagged along and knows just how to make you feel better, and in the process he too seems to be able to finally let go of his worries.

Author's note: This has a bit of a different pacing than the chapters so far... fun fact! It's also the first chapter I wrote for this fic... no I don't write them in order, that would be way too simple kalsdjflksda

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“Necklace or no necklace?” you ask, raising your voice a little so your boyfriend would hear you in the other room. You hear footsteps, and not much later his figure appears in the doorframe to his room, where you’re looking yourself in the big mirror next to his wardrobe, trying to decide what to wear.

“Y/N…” he mutters your name, and as you shoot his reflection behind you a look, you immediately respond,

“I know…”

“It’s just your family,” he says it nevertheless and he walks over to you. Coming to a halt right behind you, his palms find your waist as he lets his gaze take in your figure through the mirror. “You don’t have to dress up for them.”

“I know,” you say once again, peeling yourself out of his hold in order to walk over to the far end of the closet, pulling out yet another different necklace. “This one?” you ask and Jongho gives you a huff, a sympathetic smile showing on his face.

“Did you hear what I said?” he questions, coming closer to put his hand above yours. “Wear what’s comfortable. Your parents won’t expect you to look like you’re going to some big event.”

“Well you’re the one talking…” You shoot his outfit a look - neat black pants paired with a knitted sweater in dark colors and a button-up shirt underneath it. You can tell he put at least some thought behind it.

“Hey,” his gums show as he smiles at you. “I’m trying to leave a good impression on your parents, okay? You’re their daughter, not the boyfriend who needs to make sure they like him,” he chuckles.

“They already love you. You could show up in pajamas and they’d be fine with it,” you retort.

“I wouldn’t take it that far.” You put the necklaces back to their assigned space in your boyfriend’s wardrobe, before closing its doors. You decide against wearing one after all.

“Actually… we still have time, so I want to ask you something,” you start, turning towards him. “Let’s sit down first?”

“Sure.” You notice by the way his stance changes ever so slightly that your partner can sense you have a more or less serious question. Really, you’re just curious about something that’s been on your mind for a while now. Making yourselves comfortable in the living room, you clear your throat and pose your question.

“You’re being very careful… ever since we started experimenting more while having sex,” you state. “And I appreciate that! It’s just making me wonder if there’s a reason to that, other than for general safety’s sake? Because I feel like you really don’t have to check in with me as many times as you do.” You were afraid he might not share your opinion on this, and feel criticized for something that seems perfectly reasonable to him. But to your relief he seems to know what you’re trying to say.

“Ah… you’re right,” Jongho responds, and then he thinks for a while. “There is a reason for that, actually,” he then says. You guess it might have something to do with his previous girlfriend, and it looks like you’re correct in that assumption. “I told you about how me and my ex tried going in that direction too, right?”

“Right.” The way he suddenly becomes very serious makes you tense up as well - it’s like a barely noticeable darkness reflecting in his gaze.

“So we didn’t want the same things… a lot of the time. There was this one specific thing - I’ll spare you the details here - that she kept wanting to try out but I always said no because it felt too risky for me.”

“Makes sense.”

“And one day we were out with friends, drinking.” You have a hunch what his story might lead up to, and you furrow your eyebrows as you listen on. “And we came home tipsy. Not totally drunk, we were still aware of what we were doing, but also not sober. And this time I gave in, thinking if it’s something that will give my partner pleasure, it will be fine.”

“It wasn’t fine…?” you guess, and a short and regretful laugh escapes him.

“No…”

“Oh,” you breathe.

“I hurt her that day. Not seriously, and not permanently. But it could’ve been avoided… and I think that’s why I’m being so extra careful with you. I swore to myself after that, that I wouldn’t do certain things if I’ve had something to drink or I’m too tired.” He glances up at you now, one finger swiping his hair covering his face to the side as his features soften, and he looks at you as if you were the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. “But I guess I’m more afraid of hurting you than I thought I was.”

“So that’s why…” you respond. “I thought you were overdoing it a bit,” you admit. “But now I get why you’re so focused on making sure I’m okay at all times… thank you.” Grasping his hands in yours now, you look him right in the face. “I mean it. Thank you for keeping me safe.” He can only watch and blush when you bring your joint hands up, brushing a kiss onto his knuckles with your lips. “But now I’m wondering… can you enjoy it like that? I mean.. it must be stressful to always carry that fear with you.” There’s a complicated expression on his face now, and he hesitates for a second before he speaks.

“Yes and no,” he answers honestly. “I am enjoying it, please don’t misunderstand! But… yeah, I think you noticed that overall I’m not letting go as much as I might be able to without those fears. Except for last time…”

“When I called you-”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t let you say it out loud, and you wonder why. Does it really affect him that much?

“Then…” You give him a reassuring smile. “When you’re ready to let go of that fear, you can. I trust that you won’t hurt me. And I promise I will say something if you’ve overstepped a boundary or I feel unsure about something. Okay?”

“Okay,” he mouths. You get up to take a step towards him, closing the distance between the two of you, and you put your arms around him, bringing your hand up into his hair as he leans into your embrace. “Sorry for overcomplicating things and not telling you sooner,” he mutters, but you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you reassure him, fingers combing through his locks. “You have a very good reason. Don’t feel pressured to go against your gut feeling, okay?”

“Okay. Thank you too for understanding.”

You remain like this for a while, and the longer you stay in this position, the harder it becomes to tear yourself away from the warmth of the hug. However, eventually you force yourself to step back anyway, because it is soon time to make your way to your parent’s place.

It’s half past 6 on this Saturday when the two of you arrive at your destination to have dinner with your parents and your grandparents. The invitation had come suddenly, and not completely unrelated to your cousin revealing that she and her long-time boyfriend would get married soon. Your mother had already warned you over the phone that she wanted to discuss some “details” with you, and that you and Jongho should come over for dinner on the weekend. You could only guess that those details would be mostly about trying to convince you what you should wear for the occasion according to her, and once you arrive at your childhood home, it doesn’t take long for that fear to come true. 

“Oh my, who do we have here?” your mother greets you and, mostly, your boyfriend, who she seems to like a lot. It’s really no secret that ever since you first introduced him to her, she too wishes her daughter would get married soon. Though you’re nowhere near ready for taking such a huge step, so whenever the topic arises, you do your best to quickly switch to a different one. However, today her concerns aren’t of your marital status, but of - as you had guessed - your planned outfit for your cousin’s wedding. 

Pulling you aside after making sure everyone else is seated at the dinner table, entertaining themselves with a conversation about who knows what, her demeanor immediately changes and she becomes serious.

“So, Y/N…” The moment she calls you by your name, you startle just a little bit. “I’ve been thinking.” Whenever she uses that line, you know something uncomfortable is about to go down.

“What is it?” you reply, acting as if you didn’t already know the answer.

“For your cousin’s wedding… you’re not gonna show up in that suit again, right?” Memories of the last occasion you decided to go with neat dark blue dress pants and a fitting blazer instead of the dress that multiple people apparently expected you to wear come back to you and you gulp. 

“I was going to,” you say, and your mother sighs. It’s a condescending sigh, one that’s supposed to tell you how naive and young you are and how you should trust your mother’s words, who surely knows better. 

“You should wear a dress at least for her wedding,” she says. “Don’t you think? I mean… every young woman there is going to wear one!”

“How do you know that?” you dare to talk back at her, but she raises her eyebrows at you in response. Evading your question, she continues,

“You’re so young and such a pretty girl! It would be a waste if you went in pants.” With a bitter taste in your mouth and a glance towards the living room where the conversation seems to be dying down a bit, you retort,

“Mom, can we talk about this another time? I think everyone’s waiting for us to join…” Not expecting your attempt at getting out of this uncomfortable conversation to work, you’re surprised when she gives in and you find her agreeing with you. 

“Okay, I’ll call you about it during the week. Don’t even think about not picking up!” she adds, lifting a finger as a silent warning, and then she lets you off the hook, walking into the living room where everyone else is gathered. Letting out a deep sigh, you too follow.

Eventually you reach the part of the evening where the conversations of your family members are starting to bore you. Just because you've moved past the uncomfortable questions (at least you know your mother won’t bother you about your outfit for the wedding in front of the others) doesn't mean you feel particularly up for engaging in their small talk and occasional political debate. If you're being completely honest, you just might've been fine if it was only the small talk.

Yet here you are, watching your parents and grandparents argue about economics and politicians, and from the way Jongho is reaching over to place his hand on your thigh and gives it a gentle squeeze as he tries not to frown too much at what's unfolding at the table, you can tell he notices your discomfort too. And it's not like you didn't warn him, it's not like he didn't assure you multiple times that it's fine, he doesn't mind, he wants to come to your family dinner anyway. But now you can't help but feel apologetic to him. 

As if he knew what's going through your head when you shoot him a look, your eyebrows furrowed, he shakes his head and leans in to whisper in your ear,

"Are you okay?" Frankly, you're not okay per se. Used to this is what you are, and equating one with the other in your mind, you give him a weak nod.

"They'll stop... eventually," you whisper back, so the people in question wouldn't hear. And they really do stop a mere moment later. To your dismay, they pause their noise only to comment on you and your boyfriend instead.

"The two lovebirds... look at how they can't wait until they're alone." It's your grandma of all people who makes the comment, a knowing grin sitting on her face and you feel uncomfortable. You know it's just how people act when they see a young couple - they tease. But that doesn't mean you particularly appreciate what's probably just an expression of them being happy for you.

"Mom!" your mother exclaims and everyone laughs. You glance over at Jongho, and you see him smiling along to their bickering. It's a polite smile, nothing more, because he knows how much you hate receiving this kind of attention.

"Well it's true, isn't it?" your grandma defends herself, the creases around her eyes deepening with mischief. "We were like this too when we were their age." Now she shoots your grandpa a look, one filled with warmth as he gives her a somewhat awkward laugh because of her straightforwardness, and then puts his arm around her frame to pull her in close for a moment. You can't help but wonder if you too will still be as in love with your partner once you've reached their age, and your gaze naturally wanders over to your boyfriend sitting next to you. The familiar sight of his smile, the way he lowers his head ever so slightly because after all he's still a little shy around your family, and the way he sits up straight the exact moment your father asks him a question to start a conversation all fill your chest with warmth. Without thinking, he lets his palm glide up and down your thigh once as he answers, and just as you're about to put your hand above his, he deprives you of his touch, gesturing along with the way he talks instead. You listen to them chat as the rest of the family returns to political debates, and in your father's face you can unmistakably see that, just like your mother, he's taking a liking to your boyfriend, and it fills you with relief. And yet you soon find your mind drifting off again, wondering what would happen if your boyfriend put his hand back on your thigh, letting it wander just a bit higher. Wondering how far he could technically go without anyone else at the table noticing - though you know he’d never cross the line in front of other people. And so instead you fantasize about how he would continue unknowingly riling you up, or maybe he’d be aware of it, he is Jongho after all. He’d tease you and keep an eye on you all while making sure to keep the conversation going naturally, so that not a single soul would even guess that you’re craving for him to touch you, and he’s craving for you to beg for it. And then, after dinner is finally over, he’d pull you to another room, and-

Jongho’s hand actually returning to your thigh pulls you out of your thoughts, and as he glances over to you, noticing how your mind is drifting off further and further from the conversation at the dinner table, he moves his palms a little more towards the inside of your leg. You almost startle at the sensation, and at what it inevitably stirs up inside of you, and so you turn to look at him. As soon as you do, you find him already staring back at you, the expression on his face having changed almost unnoticeably. He leans in to mutter something in your ear again, and with it, his fingertips move towards your middle just a bit, sparking desire deep inside you once again.

"Shall we get out of here for a minute?" Thankful for his suggestion, you nod, and with the excuse of you having a headache along with assuring everyone that you'll be fine, you just need some quiet, so as to prevent anyone from following you two, he leads you out of the living room and towards the bathroom at the other end of the corridor. As soon as you close the door behind you, locking up as well, he pulls you towards him by the hand he's already holding.

"You okay?" he asks, his eyes wandering to your lips instinctively, and with his free hand he captures your chin.

"Whatever..." you breathe.

"Don't say that," your boyfriend retorts, tilting his head to the side a little, now looking you in the eyes instead. "I can tell you kept zoning out in the middle of their conversations."

"Can you blame me?" You give him a huff and a weak smile as you look away and he lets go of your chin to comb his fingers through your hair instead.

"No, to be honest." Now he as well shows you an apologetic smile. "What were you thinking about when trying to drown out the sound of their arguing?" 

"Just... nothing much," you answer, suddenly worried about whether he saw right through you or if his question didn't have so much meaning behind it after all.

"You sure? I noticed that you were upset when I took my hand away earlier... you sure it was nothing much?" You gulp at his tone, the way his voice alone reveals that he very much has a pretty good guess about what you've been fantasizing about for most of the evening. And at the same time he's now taking a step towards you, forcing you to back away and eventually your behind hits the edge of the sink, with your boyfriend now towering above you.

"I..." you try to say something, but it seems your body language already tells him everything he needs to know, because now he's placing one hand on the small of your back as he leans in, his lips hovering just beside your ear.

"Cause I've been thinking about dragging you off to somewhere else and putting you in a better mood for a whole while now." You swallow thickly, and when he takes a proper look at your face to see your reaction to his words, all you can do is part your lips and whisper a confession.

"Me too." He retrieves his hand from behind you, his palm wandering to your sides and then to your front, dragging it up across your chest and letting his fingertips graze your throat on its journey to finally cupping your face. Your eyelids flutter shut almost instantly as his thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and then he leans in, coming to a halt a mere inch apart from you.

"Want me to entertain you for a bit?" His enticing offer leaves you unable to do anything but nod, and when you take a glance at his face you don't miss the look he’s giving you, knowing he already has you under his spell. However, Jongho doesn't leave you much time to think about it as he kisses you slowly, a pace meant solely to make you crave for more. You throw your arms around his shoulders as you let him part your lips to deepen the kiss, and still it ends too soon. The pleading expression in your eyes only makes him chuckle, but for now he gives you what you undeniably want and he kisses you again. 

His hands wander towards your hips eventually, and after pulling down your pants and underwear just enough for comfortable access, one of his hands keeps you in place while the other finds your core. A mere finger, dragged up and down your folds painfully slowly, is enough to have you moan into his kiss, and next thing you know he pulls back and ceases all motions. Shaking his head at you, he mutters,

"They might hear us."

"R-right..." you whisper an answer, already having forgotten all about your family still chatting merrily not too far away from you. 

"Let's be careful," Jongho says, shushing you while momentarily removing his hand from your side. Not letting you wait, he continues his teasing motions, and you bite your bottom lip as you try not to make a sound under his touch and his more than curious gaze scanning even the tiniest of your reactions. "What?" he whispers, a somewhat mocking tone in his voice. "Didn't think you'd already be that wet just from thinking about me all evening." And before you can even come up with anything to say in your defense, he dips a finger inside you quite effortlessly, and your hips instinctively buck into his hand. The act makes him smirk, and he pushes you back into the edge of the sink to keep you from moving around. Clicking his tongue at you as quietly as he possibly can while the amusement in his gaze is apparent, he says,

"So impatient." Furrowing your brows, you shoot him a pleading expression that causes his features to soften, and he adds another finger. "That what you want?" Nodding, you can see his eyes growing darker, and you squeeze yours tightly shut as he watches on, slowly pumping his fingers in and out of you. "Feels so good, hm?" he keeps talking, his voice low and quiet, and you dig your fingertips into the fabric of his shirt where it covers his shoulders.

"Y-yeah..." you answer, doing everything in your might to keep your volume at a whisper.

"Shh," he, however, shushes you. "Don't talk. You don't wanna risk getting caught, do you?" And so you do as he says, merely shaking your head vigorously, and earning yourself a kiss brushed against your lips.

"Good girl." And then he picks up the pace just a bit, thumb now pressed against your clit, and the way he curls his fingers against that perfect spot deep inside you makes your head spin.

"Fuck," you mouth, and you earn a sharp look from your boyfriend, but he keeps going nonetheless. You can feel your knees getting weak as you melt under his touch, heatwaves rushing through your body with every time he pulls out and pushes back inside. And then, just as your high starts building up in your stomach and you throw your head back, he pulls out just as slowly as he started. For a second you stare at him blankly, but when he takes a step back, you immediately find yourself protesting.

"Don't do this... not now, please..." You can tell exactly how satisfied he is with himself for riling you up like that and then withdrawing just as you were about to find your sweet release by the cocky grin he's giving you, head leaned back ever so slightly so he could triumphantly look down at you even better.

"Why?" he asks. "It's far too risky to let you lose control. Remember?" He leans in closer now, his fingers that have just been inside your pussy merely a few seconds ago now brushing against your lips just before he leans in, the tip of his tongue licking your juices off your mouth. "They might hear us." Unable to say a word, all you can do is reach out for him, cling to him as he tries to walk backwards.

"No, please... baby... need you so bad..." You press your thighs together tightly as you speak those words, his gaze immediately dropping down to your legs as he registers the movement, and as his pupils darken, he slowly lets his eyes wander back up to your face.

"Then what do you want?" 

"Just fuck me please... do whatever you want but please fuck me..." 

"Love..." he calls out to you rather softly now, quite in contrast to the firm grip on your ass that he pulls you towards him with. You suck in a breath as you can unmistakably feel his bulge against your lower stomach, but Jongho doesn't waver. "I don't think you can keep quiet if I do whatever I want with you."

"I can... please..." you push him, and he seems to ponder on your plea for a moment. Just when he lets go of you, you think this is it, you're not getting what you want tonight, but then you see him unzip his own pants, and before you can think any further, he orders, 

"Turn around." You don't hesitate. All you do is do as he says, facing yourself in the mirror as you bend over the sink as far as the insufficient space between its edge and the glass surface in front of you lets you. You can see his eyes being glued to you from behind, one hand moving to your back and pulling your shirt up as your boyfriend moves it towards your shoulders, while he's giving himself a few strokes with the other. His palm wanders back down, fingertips tracing your spine, and you arch your back for him as he follows your shape, eventually letting his hand rest on your ass.

"That's right," he mutters, rubbing circles onto your skin before squeezing the flesh. For a second there you prepare yourself for impact, but he's already steadying your hips, aligning himself with your cunt. Even just his tip parting your folds makes you shudder, and so he leans forward, until he can comfortably place his hand over your mouth.

"Is it okay if I do that?" he asks, whispering, and you nod your head in desperation. At this point you think you'd comply with almost anything if only he finally filled you up, and at the same time you feel warmth spreading in your chest as he checks in on you and makes sure you're comfortable. And then he pushes up into you, forcing you to bite down a moan that would've almost escaped, and you find yourself agreeing with his earlier words. There really is no way in hell you could keep quiet when he has his way with you. And yet you manage to keep it down as he settles inside you with his full size.

"One sound and I won't let you cum, got that?" he warns, and you can barely nod as he begins rolling his hips into you. Though he starts slow, he too seems close to losing his composure as he picks up speed, using you to chase his own high as well. And even though the pleasure keeps gradually building up deep inside of you, you can keep it together so far. However, when his other hand lets go of your hips so he could rub circles against your clit instead, you know he's about to drive you insane. And so, as a moan threatens to escape your throat, you do the only other thing you can think of as an alternative - you sink your teeth into the palm of his hand. With him bringing you closer to the edge with every repetition of his movements, you don't pay attention to the impact of your actions, but when you bite down harder you can suddenly hear your boyfriend hissing a curse above you.

"Fuck..." Finding the reflection of his face in the mirror and the way his features distort in pleasure as he fucks you harder only causes you to apply even more force to how you’re biting down on his palm, and in turn he tightens his grip on your face. Squeezing your eyes shut as you're about to roll them back from all the sensations coursing through your body, your orgasm comes crashing down on you, shaking you whole. Only a mere second later, a strained grunt escapes your boyfriend as he cums inside you, halting at once to allow for you both to come down from your highs.

He pulls out carefully as you release his hand, and grabbing a few paper towels, he begins cleaning you up. With one arm around your waist he helps you stand, the other wiping clean the insides of your thighs, making you shake whenever he grazes your still sensitive core. 

"You okay?" he asks finally, placing a kiss just below your ear as he holds you close, letting you rest with your back against his chest.

"Yeah..." you whisper, before remembering his hand. "What about you?" You turn around, reaching for his wrist to take a closer look at his palm, only to find very apparent bite marks there. You can't help but snort at the situation, remarking, "Well, I guess it's not the noise we need to worry about now." 

"Ah... right..." Taking a look at the mark himself, an embarrassed smile now graces his face, gums showing as his ears take on a soft shade of pink. You take a hold of his hand again, bringing it up to your mouth now.

"It's okay," you say, blowing some cool air onto it, before placing gentle kisses all over the mark. "I'll make it better."

You return to the table significantly later than what would’ve been a timespan where you could be sure nobody would get suspicious, but thankfully the only question you receive is whether your “headache” is better now or not as everyone’s busy cleaning up the table. Your boyfriend immediately takes a heavy looking stack of dirty plates from your mother’s hands and carries them to the kitchen instead, and once again it makes you happy to see what a good impression your parents have of him. 

“You really picked a good guy, Y/N,” your mother tells you as she moves over closer to you, and you agree silently as you glance over to where his back is disappearing in the kitchen. Caught up in your feelings, you startle as she claps her hands together next to you, the loud sound immediately makes you look at her. “You get to work too! You’re gonna have to be a good wife to him!”

“Mom!” you call out, finding several things that bother you about that sentence, but in the end only addressing one. “We haven’t even been dating for that long!”

“Oh,” she throws one hand over her mouth, before smiling with a hint of mischief in her eyes, just like your grandma had done earlier. “Sorry, I got ahead of myself. But can you blame me?” Now putting her hand on your shoulder, she points in the direction of the kitchen, and following her movement with your eyes, your gaze soon comes to rest on your boyfriend, who gives you a smile upon noticing.

“Jongho,” you call out to him to make him come over to you. “Can you tell my mom to stop simping over you?”

“What?” they ask, in unison, but very much for different reasons, as your boyfriend can’t help but smile in amusement, whereas your mother adds, “What’s simping…?” And before you can explain, your boyfriend chimes in,

“It’s a good thing, I promise.” 

“Ah, well,... either way, someone’s gonna have to get dessert ready, and I assume it’s not your father,” your mother switches topic, shooting you a look. And then, glancing at Jongho and then back to you, she adds, “But that won’t be a problem you’re gonna have, right?” Walking away with that, she leaves you to protest in vain and to internally die of embarrassment, and when you see your boyfriend merely laughing at the situation, you’re not sure if that makes it better or worse. 

“God, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have brought you here…” you mutter, but he shakes his head, one arm snaking around your body loosely.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay,” he tries to reassure you, and yet your mood won’t change.

“But I’m not… I hate it when they are like this. They act like we’re already married…”

“Hey…” He pulls you aside, fingertips dancing down your arms until he takes a hold of your hands. “They like me. That’s a good thing, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess…” you say, averting your gaze because you really don’t want to keep discussing this, but at the same time you can’t shake the feeling that they’re taking this too far too quickly. And instead of dwelling on the topic, your boyfriend now finds reason to complain about something entirely different.

“You guess?” he asks, his tone making it sound like he’s upset, but the playful spark in his gaze as he raises his eyebrows at you tells you he’s just fooling around. 

“I mean… no, it’s a good thing,” you correct yourself, shooting him a thankful smile for attempting to cheer you up and then letting him pull you into a quick hug, before your mother starts calling everyone to the dinner table again in order to have dessert. It’s self-made chocolate cake, sweet just as you like it, and even though you know it couldn’t possibly match your boyfriend’s tastes, he still finishes his entire plate.

“This is why they like you so much,” you mutter eventually, when people start moving again to get ready for bed. “You’re risking a tummy ache just to make them happy.” He can’t say anything to that, having been caught red-handed by you, who wouldn’t not know his ulterior motive behind forcing himself through sugary hell. So instead, you get up, touching his shoulder lightly as you do. “Let’s get ready for bed too?”

You help your mother put the remaining plates and cutlery into the dishwasher before brushing your teeth and eventually moving to your old room with your boyfriend. Making yourselves comfortable under your blanket which is that much fluffier than the one you’re using at his place, you immediately feel sleep tugging at your bones and you let out a content sigh.

“Say…” you mumble, facing him as you’re both rolled over onto your sides. “You didn’t seem so anxious about possibly hurting me today.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he whispers a response, sounding as if he hadn’t really noticed that fact himself.

“Is it because we didn’t have much time?” you ask, grinning at the thought of your dirty little secret that you’re keeping from everyone else in the house. Jongho thinks for a short while, but then he shakes his head along with an “mh-mh” coming from his side.

“Because I trust you.” Your smile widens at his words. “I think the trust that you’ll say no if you want me to stop is finally bigger than the fear of accidentally hurting you…”

“That’s good,” you respond, reaching out to place your palm onto his cheek, squishing it lightly between your fingers and contrary to the expected reaction, Jongho merely raises his eyebrows at you slowly, as if he couldn’t properly process what you just did. Letting go of him, you move your hand towards the back of his head instead and your partner shows you a delayed shy smile. “I’m really glad for that,” you whisper, before you roll onto your back and he reaches out for your hand in order to place a goodnight kiss onto the back of it.

“Me too.”

[crucifiedfaerie]

Growing Pains | Pt. 1 ༉₊˚✧

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Fem!Reader

➴ Summary: He loved you, he left you, and now he will stop at nothing to get you back.

➴ Word Count: 1.3k

➴ Warnings: smut in future chapters so 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, stalking, kidnapping, lots and lots of angst, a little blood, slight death mention, kylo is kinda soft for a min but he's still kylo ren so mean!kylo, flashback dream, established relationship with ben, crylo ren, reader is wallowing and low key wants to die

➴ Taglist: ( @enviedear @capitanostella @teapartydreams )

A/N: lowkey (high key) cried while writing this. did not intend for this fic to be so sad right off the bat but here we are. so apologies for that. nonetheless, i hope you enjoy !! <3

Your head was spinning as you clutched your saber, the yellow glow reflecting off your teary, panicked eyes. You don't know how long you had been running, it felt like ages. The salt from your tears stung your face where twigs and branches had slashed you. Something had been hunting you. A dark, looming creature in a mask that you knew was never going to stop until it was dead or had you in its grasp.

You stopped in a clearing, frantically whipping your head around, looking in every direction. The moss felt soft underneath your bare feet that were sore from running, and it was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Not even the wind or the birds made a sound and the hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up.

Before you could even process the sound of the branch snapping behind you, everything went black. The last thing you remember feeling was being caught by two strong hands before being enveloped in the dark void of sleep.

It was the same dream as every night, and despite how heartbreaking it was to wake up from, you found great comfort in it. After six years, you had accepted at some point that sleep was going to be the only place you'd ever see him again.

"Do you ever wish you were a bird?" Ben turned his head to look at you, that same smile on his face he always seemed to have when he was in your presence.

You laughed at him, "I can't say it's something I've ever thought about. Do you?"

The two of you had been laying in a flower meadow, watching the clouds and birds go by as the sky faded to an orangey-pink. He let go of your hand to roll closer to you, and he brushed your wind blown hair out of your face.

You picked pieces of grass from his dark hair as he spoke. "Of course I do. If we were birds, we could go anywhere together, we could fly far away from here and we would have no responsibilities." He smiled down at you.

Before you could respond to him, everything faded away. Ben, the pink sky behind him, and the warm meadow all slipped through your fingers like sand. Despite it's own despair, your brain threw itself into a different memory. A much darker, more painful memory.

"Get away from me!" Ben screamed at you, pointing his saber at you. The rain beat down on the both of you, soaking your clothes and chilling you down to the bone.

You looked at him, the betrayal clear in your eyes. "This isn't you, Ben... I don't understand, please help me understand. Why are you doing this?" Your voice broke as you pleaded with him, your warm tears mixing with the cold rain.

He ignored your pleas and looked down at you with an expression void of emotion. "Maybe you never knew me to begin with."

In the blink of an eye he was gone, leaving you alone and cold in the rain. Your broken sobs were drowned out by the heavy rain as you realized nothing would ever be the same again.

When you awoke, the painful throbbing in your head came crashing down on you immediately. Your body ached as you sat up from the concrete floor of the cell you had been put in, and you lifted your hand to the side of your head. When you looked at your fingers they were covered in flaky, dried blood.

When you fully came to your senses, you saw him, sitting across from you on the other side of the room. Kylo Ren, the Supreme Leader of the First Order and most feared man in the galaxy was mere feet from you, simply staring at you. You weakly scrambled backwards to put distance between you, your head hitting the wall behind you, causing you to wince.

He stood, holding a damp cloth in his gloved hand. "Don't do that. You're hurt enough as it is." Kylo said blankly through his modulator, before crouching down in front of you, attempting to be at eye level despite his dark helmet separating the two of you.

He reached his hand out towards your face. You frantically shook your head and inched away from him, causing him to sigh and use the force to freeze you in place. "Stop moving, I'm trying to help you." He sounded annoyed, but he began to gently wipe the blood from your face with the cloth.

You winced at the contact, which he noticed. "I'm sorry, I'm almost done." The modulator in his helmet stripped his voice of any emotion, but you could've sworn there was a hint of sympathy in his tone.

Once he finished, he released you and leaned back slightly as if to admire his work, before nodding at you. "You must be terrified. My intention was not to hurt you, I thought it would be easier to catch you... I suppose I was wrong." His modulated voice crackled.

You saw your reflection in his visor, your expression terrified and eyes sunken. You began to cry. "Why am I here?! I j-just want to go home, I want t-to go back to Ahch-To, please!" You begged him through broken sobs.

Kylo tilted his head slightly. "Now why would you want to go back there? It isn't like you have anyone to go back to but the terrible memories." His voice was now cold, calculated.

Your brow furrowed. "How would you know that?! You know nothing about me!" You shouted at him, tears streaming down your face.

He laughed through the modulator, as if there were some inside joke you had no part in. "On the contrary. I know plenty about you."

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him, angry and confused. "Who are you?"

He sighed. "In due time, you will understand. In the meantime, eat." He pushed the tray of food that had been sitting next to you when you woke up closer to you, before standing up. "I'll be back later. If that food isn't gone when I return, you won't like the consequences." He turned around swiftly and made his way to the door.

"Why didn't you just kill me in that forest?" You said weakly.

Your question made him freeze. He tensed in the doorway, and didn't turn to look at you before speaking. "In due time, you will understand." He repeated, only he sounded... pained this time. He quickly left, shutting the door and locking it behind him.

You picked at your food, feeling the sorrow and rage boiling inside you. You screamed, throwing the tray at the door before curling up into a ball and sobbing against the cold, concrete floor of the cell.

You wanted nothing more in that moment than to feel the warm, comforting embrace of Ben, but you knew it would never come. There was a song he would always sing to you, to calm you down. As you laid there crying, you began to hum the tune to yourself.

Unbeknownst to you, Kylo stood outside the door to your cell, listening to your outburst. He sighed, leaning against the wall, deep in thought. He was quickly pulled from his thoughts though, by your humming.

He froze. Despite your broken sobs, he recognized it immediately. He had almost forgotten about that song, it reminded him of a version of himself that he had spent six years trying to kill. Kylo didn't realize he was crying until he felt a tear slip out of the bottom of his helmet. He quickly wiped it away with a gloved hand and inhaled sharply, before walking down the dimly lit hallway, away from your cell.

[headfullofpresley]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 3,8K

Series summary: Elvis has worked hard to become the successful adult movie director that he is today and all that hard work is paying off by how well the public reacts to his work and how much money is coming into his bank account, despite the fact that porn is still very much illegal. Working in the adult industry is not something you saw yourself doing despite coming from a place where it always has been out in the open, but you soon find yourself swept up and away by a certain American director and right into the heart of the porn industry. The only question that remains is... will you sink, or will you swim?

Chapter summary: Working on his newest and what he believes his biggest project yet, Elvis flies to Amsterdam to shoot most of it. Everything is going well until he's forced to fire his leading actress on the spot and there's a stop being put to his work. But as he wanders into a cafe for a much needed drink in the bustling city, faith seems to be on his side.

Warnings: porn director!Elvis, European!reader, set in the year 1970 (so some details may be a little off?), obvious mentions of sex/porn etc, mentions of prostitution, Elvis giving reader a lowkey foot rub in public (honestly, he's going to be into feet in this series bc i'm feral), mentions of soft drugs, alcohol consumption.

A/N: hi! this idea was born from an ai but mostly from The Deuce (definitely watch it!), where i took most inspiration from. i'm super excited about this series, and honestly it's giving me a lot of inspiration to write in general again! this is going to be a short series- i'm thinking around 5 parts, but we shall see, hm? no smut in this part, but obvi there will be in future parts, as well as some darker topics. hope y'all enjoy! ❤

masterlist | want to be added to the taglist? just ask!

Who ever said Hollywood was a jungle has obviously never set foot in New York City.

They’ve obviously never experienced what a real concrete jungle is like and they definitely don’t know that the Golden Age of Hollywood has seen its best days. Directors were feeling pressures from the outside – from the public that wanted something different, something more than those cringy movie kisses. The smaller movie theaters were starting to ID their customers because their movies weren’t so family friendly anymore. Establishments that specialized in peep shows were popping out of the ground like weeds. Burlesque clubs were turning into proper stripclubs and people would rather spend their money on naked girls dancing in their faces than on overpriced cocktails at supper clubs.

They didn’t know that the world was changing.

They didn’t know that even though adult entertainment was far from legal, it was one of the most produced and exported and imported products in the country.

They didn’t know. But Elvis Presley did.

Having made his start as a director ten years ago when he was in his early twenties and was nothing but a naive Southern boy from Memphis, he crawled and clawed his way through shitty jobs in New York. From parking cars, to serving drinks in sketchy bars to being a bodyguard at a massage parlor and driving around hookers to their appointments… He’s seen it all, and he’s done it all.

He worked hard to get where he currently was – being one of the most famous porn directors in New York. Everyone knew who he was and everyone respected him. Times Square was home to countless of peep shows, stripclubs and whatnot and you’ll bump into a prostitute every five steps. Elvis never used their services but he was friendly with them, greeting them as if he had known them forever. Which in some girls’ cases, was true.

Most of those girls were looking for a way out, wanting to get off the streets and into the safety of a movie studio, but Elvis has learned from a previous mistake where he hired a girl who had a pimp and the leech tried to get him to pay them more than the other actors. Since then, Elvis stuck to actors and actors only.

The director was doing good for himself, owning his own studio and brand under the name of “Presley Productions”, and living in a spacious apartment in the city, yet he still wanted more.

He wanted to make a movie so good, it would get international attention. He wanted it to be so good that theaters wouldn’t stop showing it and he wanted it to be so damn good that it would get him a shiny, gold award on his shelf.

And whenever Elvis had his mind set on something, he made sure to accomplish whatever it was that he wanted to accomplish.

It would only be a matter of time before Hollywood would get whiff of his work, and who he was, and for him to open up a second studio there. Elvis didn’t believe in “Hollywood first, the world later” though – he was going to knock everyone off their feet, from the housewives in California to the business men in Hong Kong, all at the same time.

 

The script he had written for his newest movie had been done for months now and all there was left to do was the casting. The process went fairly simple and easy – his main actress was Annette Haven and she was a gorgeous brown eyed brunette, but for some reason he couldn’t get used to her.

Granted, he wasn’t the one playing in the movie and her co-star seemed to have no issues with her, so perhaps he figured he was just being too picky because he was so passionate about this project. Annette was friendly during the first few weeks of filming but as they got to Amsterdam, the sex capital of the world, to shoot most of the movie, her behavior started to change.

She was cranky on set, pranced around like she was the Queen and was late for filming almost every single day. To put it mildly, she was getting on Elvis’s nerves and when she showed up high as a kite one afternoon, the director was done with this girl.

He never was a tiran on set and always made sure everyone was doing okay, but right now it was like a bomb exploded and everyone watched and were awkwardly rooted to their places as Elvis had a go at the main actress and fired her on the spot.

“Take the rest of the day off. We’ll figure things out tomorrow,” he announced to the other actors and the crew. He gave them a bitter smile before he turned around and walked out of the studio they rented, angry and annoyed at the fact he lost a full day of filming, his leading actress and money.

He needed a goddamn drink.

 

Amsterdam was a crowded, bustling city and in some ways, it was much like New York but it was different in so many ways too. People were a little more laid back here (and he figured the many coffee shops where one definitely was not drinking coffee but getting high at instead had something to do with that) and instead of running into a lady of the night on a street corner, they were placed behind windows in certain areas. The Red Light District, for example. It was crowded with tourists and while there was a long canal outstretched in the middle of the district, there were shops, bars, coffee shops and sexual tinted business lined up on the sides, drawing people’s attention left and right. The infamous windows were located in the alley ways, the red lights that were on indicating a girl was working at the time. While he was definitely no stranger to sex workers and what the normal citizen would call “wildness of it all”, it was like he had stepped into a different world, yet it felt a little bit like home too.

Spotting a typical Dutch brown cafe on a corner, he stepped inside and was welcomed by the loud rumbles of laughter of men shooting pool and sitting at the tables and the bar and the smell of cigarette smoke and beer. Nobody aside from the waitress even spared him a glance as he sat at a table near the window and the second he looked at the girl that came up to him to take his order, a smirk spread across his face. In the middle of August, it was only natural for the girl to be wearing a pair of shorts and he was glad this place didn’t set any strict dress codes for their employees, because Good Lord, those legs looked like they went on for days. He noticed the red heeled sandals she wore on her feet and her fresh pedicure on her toes, drawing him in even more. The way that black little apron was tied around her waist did things to him and as his eyes shamelessly moved further up and noticed the size of her breasts that were filling up the tight top she was wearing, he could only think two things – first, he needed to get his hands on those things. And second, she would be perfect for the movie he was shooting out here.

Annette Haven who?

“Hallo?!” You spoke again, waving your hand in front of the dark haired man that just sat down by the window when he didn’t respond to you the first time. Instead, he was shamelessly checking you out from head to toe and working in a bar in the Red Light District, you were used to it but it still got you a little annoyed at times. At least some men tried to hide it and most men actually spoke, with actual words. As he excused himself in English and scanned the crowd for a second, you realised he wasn’t Dutch and decided to cut him some slack.

Perhaps he really was a creep, but your boss wouldn’t be too happy if a customer walked out without being served.

Happened before, because while other waitresses accepted the bold and creepy men that came to drink almost every single day, your mother had always taught you to stand up for yourself and to not take any shit from anyone.

Besides, this was 1970. What did men expect? For you to drape yourself over their laps and beg them to take you? Absolutely not.

“A beer’s just fine, honey,”

You bit your tongue to ignore the pet name and flashed the American a smile, looking him in the eye. “Anything else? Something to eat maybe?”

Elvis grinned and shook his head, watching you walk away to get his drink. You were a very pretty girl with a very pretty body and he realised he was going to amp up his charm if he wanted to see what was underneath.

And he definitely wanted to see what was underneath.

 

“There you go,” you said as you came back over to his table and put his beer down in front of him. Before you could make your escape once more, Elvis spoke up.

“You know, your English is pretty good,”

At this, you almost scoffed as you stood up straight and looked at him with a hand on your hip. These Americans were always so full of themselves.

“Thanks. It’s only a language spoken in countries all over the world,” you smiled sarcastically and Elvis grinned in amusement as he leaned his arms on the edge of the table, quirking an eyebrow.

Feisty. He was intrigued.

“I been to Germany back in the day and believe me, they definitely didn’t sound as pretty as you,”

You raised your eyebrows a little at the odd compliment. Didn’t sound as pretty? That was the first time you ever heard something like that. This guy looked exactly what you imagined a pimp to look like – gold rings adorning his fingers, dressed up nicely in a velvet crushed jacket despite the heat outside – yet he used the word “pretty”, instead of something vulgar like most customers did when they’d try to flirt with you.

You knew you had probably judged him too quickly and although you were intrigued by him the same way he was by you, you weren’t going to make it easy on him.

“Let me tell you a secret,” you whispered as you leaned down and closer to him a little, looking straight into his eyes, which you noticed were very blue and very pretty. “You’re not in Germany anymore, sir,”

Elvis let out a laugh as you gave his shoulder a playful pat and raised his glass, a sly smirk settling on his features.

“You got that right, honey,”

As you walked away, he didn’t fail to notice the playful smile you threw his way as you looked over your shoulder.

 

Elvis wasn’t planning on spending half the day in this particular cafe, but for some reason, he was already on his third beer and he just couldn’t leave.

He could say it was because he needed to clear his mind and think of a solution to fix the problem about not having a lead actress anymore, but the little voice in his head told him he was looking right at that exact solution.

You.

He knew it would be risky – you were just a waitress and you probably had never set foot on a movie set in your entire life, let alone an adult movie set, but he couldn’t stop imagining you in front of the camera, in all kinds of positions.

As he watched you move around the place, serving customers, it was almost like he was watching a movie right now. The way you moved so effortlessly on those little heels, the way you avoided customers that were a little too handsy and the way you were laughing with local customers who you’d probably served many times before.

The sound of your laugh was like music to his ears and he wondered how you’d sound while you were being fucked with those gorgeous long legs dangling in the air. Just imagining you moaning in pleasure had a shiver run down his spine.

And while you had pretended you didn’t like Elvis at all and he was just another annoying American tourist, you couldn’t help yourself from glancing into his direction every so often and making your way to his table to ask if he needed anything else.

When you did just that after talking to some locals at the bar, he looked at you and smiled.

“Sit down,” he told you as he nodded to the empty seat across from him as he leaned back in his seat. “Doesn’t the old man give you a break?”

You chuckled softly as he nodded to an older looking, grumpy man in the corner behind the bar. Your boss. He barely did any of the work and just sipped on his beer, watching his waitresses work their asses off.

For a shitty pay, too.

“Hardly,” you admitted honestly with a soft chuckle, noticing that your boss wasn’t paying any attention to you so you sat down opposite the dark haired man that had his eye on you the entire time. “So, what brought you to Amsterdam?”

Elvis was pleasantly surprised as you asked him that. Not only would it give him the chance to keep you at his table longer, but now was also the moment where he would have to tell you what he did. And find out your reaction to it.

So, he just came clean right away. In one way, it was a good test to see how open-minded the Europeans really were.

And if you were a full blown, crazed feminist.

God… please don’t be a fullblown crazed feminist, he prayed mentally.

“I’m here to make a porno.”

A silence lingered between you two, but it only lasted for about three seconds. You nodded your head and chuckled in an amused but friendly manner.

“Are you an actor?”

Thank God.

“No,” he laughed, shaking his head a little as he took a sip of his beer, licking his lips. “I’m the director of the movie,”

You leaned your arms on the table and sat on the edge of your seat, crossing your legs under the table as you swung your foot back and forth a little. Elvis looked at the way your breasts were pressed against your arms for a second before looking back at your face, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

“And why are you not directing your movie right now?” You wondered aloud, tilting your head a little.

“Well,” he let out a laugh as he tapped one of his rings against his glass for a second, looking at you. “My leading actress wasn’t as fit for the role as I thought.”

“Or maybe you aren’t as good as a director as you think you are,” you teased with a grin on your face.

At that, Elvis just looked at you with a raised eyebrow. He could tell you were pulling his tail, but perhaps far in the back of his mind… he wondered if that could be the truth. He decided not to let his insecurities get to him though, not right now, and when he felt your swaying foot hit his leg under the table, he reached a hand down and grabbed your ankle. You widened your eyes a little and stared at him as he gave you a cocky grin and removed your shoe, dropping the red heel to the floor before he put your foot in his lap.

You looked around nervously to see if your boss caught onto you slacking yet, but he was still busy with the locals at the bar. Elvis ran his hand down from your ankle to your foot and pressed his thumb against your sole, making you turn back to him and bite your tongue to hold back a small gasp.

While you certainly never let customers touch you, right now you weren’t trying to get away. Nor could you muster up a smart remark to throw at his head. You’d been on your feet all day, wearing those heels, and the little massage he suddenly decided to give you wasn’t entirely unwelcomed.

“I am a great director, sweetheart, trust me..” he grinned as he looked you in the eye, a kind but mischievous gleam in his blue orbs. This man definitely was bold and for the first time in your waitressing “career”, you were enjoying the attention of a customer. And a tourist, at that. “Some people just can’t resist the many coffee shops in the city,”

You chuckled, nodding your head as you tried to focus on the conversation and not his large hand rubbing your foot under the table.

“Ha! Bet she was A-American,” you mentally slapped yourself for the stutter (and the lame reply) but if he noticed it, he didn’t mention it. Instead he just grinned and caressed his short nails across the arch of your foot a little.

“Who said she was American?”

“Well, if she was Dutch, she could’ve.. resisted the tempting clouds of weed,” you countered back with a small, playful grin on your face.

He laughed as he cocked his eyebrow, his eyes staring intently into yours as he found your pressure point and pushed his thumb into it, making you nearly moan out loud right there in the middle of your work place.

You managed to save yourself with a small groan.

“Think you can do better?”

At this point, your face was flushed and he realised he was slowly breaking through that sarcastic façade of yours. Then again, he wasn’t exactly playing fair with the way he was shamelessly giving you a foot rub and while you had genuinely peaked his interest, he was a little desperate too.

He wanted to finish his movie and make sure it was good. It had to be perfect. And he didn’t want to get a professional actress now that he had laid eyes on you.

Porn wasn’t a strange concept to you despite never having been in a porno yourself. You lived in a city where sex was out in the open for everyone to see and consume and while porn was illegal here as much as it was in the States, it was tolerated. Perhaps it wasn’t such a strange idea for you to dip your toes into the world of adult entertainment.

“I know I can do better,” you said confidently, looking over at your boss who looked your way and you quickly pulled your foot out of Elvis’ grip, slipping it back into your heel. “Just tell me when and where,”

Elvis let out a hearty laugh as he widened his eyes at you a little. This had been easier than he expected – you were offering yourself for the job and while that was certainly surprising, he wasn’t complaining at all. You were perfect for this movie and the fact that you were inexperienced in the industry might even be better for the storyline.

After all, the lead girl was supposed to be a little naive and a whole lot of innocent.

You quickly urged him for a phone number and address when you noticed the sour face of your boss staring at you from behind the bar and Elvis quickly scribbled his contact information down on the back of a paper coaster as he realised he didn’t have any business cards on him at the moment. You grasped it from the table and shoved it in your pocket, getting up from your seat.

“Hold up,” he said after he paid for his drinks and you were about to walk off to the bar to get back to work. You felt him grabbing your wrist and you turned around, looking at him as your heartbeat sped up a little. “I didn’t get your name..”

“It’s Y/N,” You told him, gently pulling your arm out of his grip. You wouldn’t mind holding onto him a little longer but you felt your boss’ eyes burning in the back of your head.

“I’m Elvis. Elvis Presley.”

You nodded and flashed him a smile, tapping the back pocket of your shorts where you had put the coaster in. He grinned and nodded, slowly leaving the cafe, hoping you’d call him and go through with this.

A pretty girl like you shouldn’t have to work in a shitty place like this.

 

You watched him go and the entire time your boss was giving you an earful about work ethics as you stood behind the bar, you barely heard the words coming out of his mouth. Quite frankly, you just weren’t paid enough to deal with this. You liked your co-workers but that’s all they were – co-workers. They didn’t pay your bills and neither did your shitty monthly pay that your boss gave you.

You wanted a change. No, you needed a change.

And maybe it was a naive and stupid thing to do, but for some reason, you had trusted that stupid American tourist.

Maybe he wasn’t even a director at all, but the longer your boss went on and on about your behavior, you decided it was worth the risk.

“You know what,” you interrupted him loudly, pulling your apron off and throwing it at his face. “I quit!”

Your boss threw a string of profanities to your head as you opened the cash register and grasped the amount of money he still owed you. He was too slow, and too fat, to stop you and before he could get to you, you were already halfway out the door. Though ofcourse, you didn’t leave without theatrically flipping him off.

 

You ran down the street, squirming your way through the crowd, and into a phone booth. Closing the door behind you, you fished the coaster out of your pocket and rang the number. You were connected to Elvis’ hotel and then put through to his room after several minutes. As soon as you heard his voice on the other side of the line, you inhaled a sharp breath of air and clenched the phone against your ear.

How bad could the porn industry really be?

The fact that you were a virgin didn’t strike you as a problem. Nobody had to know, did they? You were sure you’d be able to mask it.

Even from the director.

You stared at the people walking by the phone booth and leaned against the glass wall, your next words rolling off your tongue determinedly.

“When do I start?”

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates

[pyramid-of-starrs]

Stay with me

Pairing: Clingy Boyfriend San X Black/WOC Fem reader

Genre: Fluffy Smut (Tbh it got pretty filthy)

Warnings: Clingy behavior, whining, lowkey toxic behavior, possessiveness, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (be safe), anal play (tehe, I said it got filthy), creampie, saliva, Y/N is dick whipped real bad lol

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: This will absolutely be getting a part two since this is not the original plot of this story lol.

Pt 2

Chapter Song Rec

You stretched out while sitting at your desk in your room, shutting your work laptop and happily jumping up from your chair. It was finally the weekend, and you were so excited, you wanted to get out the house and do something, anything! A ding was heard from your phone, and you grabbed it off of the charger on the side of your desk to see your friend group chat going off 

Erica: It's friday hoes what we doin today Katrina: idk but I'm down for whatever Erica: OMG let's go to that club down town! There was some fine ass men last time we went Meg: OOOUUU yes! The dude that just wanted to buy us drinks all night! Katrina: Now y'all know Y/N boo'd up ass ain't gone go if we lookin for dudes Meg: Is she even gone come? San be havin her locked up lmaoooo Meg: Y/N bitch wya??? Y/N:I'm here and I'm coming! Ain't nobody locked up lol Erica: I'll believe it when I see it bitch lol lets meet at my house at 10 to pregame then leave! And Y/N tell San to back the hell up off you!!!

You tossed your phone on your bed and sighed, they did have a point. Ever since you started dating San about 8 months ago your attendance for friend gatherings and outings has gotten less and less, it wasn't like you were doing it on purpose it's just that San was very adamant about spending lots of time with you. He always wanted to be with you when you two weren't working, he came over when he got off, spends the night or ask you to spend the night, takes you out all the time and even comes to pick you up just to take you back to his house that was 20 minutes away.  Though you loved your time spent together you were used to having your space, this was your first time dating a clinger and you didn't mind but maybe it was time you told him you wanted to do something else with someone else for the day.

Just as you were finishing your thought your phone rang again. You sat down on your bed and picked it up, speak of the devil.

"Hello?"

"Babyyyy"

You can already hear his whiny tone, it was cute you had to admit it, a grown man acting cutesy would usually be cringy as hell but this grown man made it work somehow?

"Yes baby? What's wrong?"

"I want to see you can I come over?"

"I'm going out tonight with my friends San."

You could hear a long groan before he continued the conversation.

"But I really miss you, I haven't seen you in forever."

"You saw me yesterday..."

"A WHOLE 24 HOURS! I'm suffocating without my baby!!"

You laughed at his dramatics.

"Fine...you can come over but you have to leave when I leave and you're not allowed to try to convince me to stay with you."

"...okay..."

"Promise me San."

He smacked his lips and groaned again; he was obviously going to try to convince you to stay with him, but he had to be good...just this once.

"I promise."

"Okay, you can come over."

You went to take a shower while San was on his way, you stepped out and put on your robe, once you walked out the bathroom your phone rang, you went to answer it already knowing who it was.

"Hey baby, let yourself in I just got out the shower."

The call ended and a few moments later you can hear the front door opening and closing while you're in your room, footsteps can be heard as San approaches.

"I'm naked still hold on."

If anything, that gave him even more reason to come in, San immediately opens the door to see you in a black pair of panties and a black crop top, his smile dropped to a face of disappointment.

"You liar you said you were naked." He said in a pouty voice.

"Sorry to disappoint, pervert." You giggled at him and sat on your bed, you picked up the lotion that you put on your bed.

"Let me do it."

"San"

"Come ooon, I already can't spend the night with you at least let me rub you down for the night."

"Fine." you flipped the lotion bottle to face him, and he came to sit next to you, he grabbed your legs and put them across his lap, your body turning to face him. He squeezed the lotion on to his hands, rubbing his hands together he started to rub it onto your thighs.

"So, what are the plans for tonight?" He asked with a smile on his face, even though San was sad that you were going out tonight he really was happiest when he was with you, even doing small task like this made his heart flutter, he really loved you.

"My friends want me to go to this club we went to a while ago, we are going to pre-game first though, they said they miss me since I don't go out much because I'm always with you."

He finished one of your thighs and moved down to your calves, he lathered you up while massaging your legs.

"Well, I could always come with." He said smiling like a cute little cat.

"No sir, no boys allowed, you would mess up the flow. Plus, all my other friends are single so it would be awkward."

He frowned at you shooting him down.

"That's not fair Y/N, it's not my fault they are all single! What if I get my friends to date them? Then we could go on group dates."

"Right, your friends that would rather play video games then see the light of day?" You said with an arched eyebrow.

He finished rubbing your legs and you walked to your drawers to look for the rest of your outfit for the night. San continued to talk about how he wished he could spend the night together and that he wasn't "technically" trying to convince you to stay with him just "Strongly suggesting" in his words. You turned on a chill RnB playlist on YouTube as you continued to get ready to drown him out. You were finishing up your make up while you were sitting at your vanity, well technically San was the one sitting on the vanities bench, he insisted that you sit on his lap while he held your waist and sadly rocked you back and forth. You finally took off your bonnet and brushed out your brown and blonde highlight wig you just installed last week; San watched you in awe.

"You're so gorgeous my love." He smiled; you could feel the love radiating off of him.

"Thank you, San." You looked in the vanity mirror slightly hunched over since San elevated you, so you were sitting a bit pass the mirrors height.

His warm and wholesome smile turned to a sneaky one as he decided to try one more thing to make you stay home. He buried his face into your neck as he sat behind you.

"You sure you don't want to stay here with me?" He said, trying to pursue you.

"Very sure." You said as you started to put away your make-up.

You could fill his plush lips start to slowly pepper kisses down your neck. At first you were just going to ignore him but then a particular linger kiss had suction to it as he started to suck your neck, you learned your head back and sighed. His hands left your waist and slid up your shirt, he started to massage your breast gently.

"Come on San I have to go, you told me you weren't going to do this tonight..."

"I'm not doing anything baby, I'm just appreciating your beautiful body and face."

You turned your face to the side that he was kissing as his lips migrated up from your neck up to your face then finally reaching your lips. The kiss was obviously not a quick appreciation kiss, so much lust as you followed his lead, his hands still on your breast as he made his way under your bra. You felt his fingers started to tweak your nipples and you moaned into the kiss, your moan was used as opportunity for San to put his tongue into your mouth, you had to stop it now or you were never going to make it out. You started to pull back from him, and he allowed you to.

"Come on pretty girl stay with me so I can give you what you really want." He said in a low raspy voice, his one soft kitten like eyes turned to lustful demon orbs, he rocked his hips forward so you could feel his semi-hard dick against your butt, your mini skirt left you bare on his laps, only your panties could protect you. You could have just said no and gotten up and left but you chose to stay silent, giving San hope that you could change your mind still. He leaned in to talk in your ear knowing that that was where you were weakest at.

"What if you stayed with me instead while I fuck your pretty pussy until you couldn't walk anymore? Or I could let you ride my face while you cum all over me."

It was like the devil himself was talking you into betraying God and eating the apple off the tree. Turning down San is the hardest thing you could do but you planned for this, you knew you were weak for him, so you texted your friend 30 minutes ago tell them to come pick you up. You were originally going to have San drop you off but the last time you did that you did make it out the apartment but 15 minutes into the drive San pulled into a Dark parking lot to fuck you in his backseat saying it was just a quickie. You ended up getting fucked so good your lace was lifted and your make up was running down your face.

"My friend is already on the way San."

Just in time your phone dinged and you picked it up thinking it was going to be your friend saving you from danger.

Meg: Hey girl, Katrina ended up needing a ride too and that's on the other side of you and she has no one else to pick her up, Imma grab her, could you ask your dude to drop you off?

You read the text in your head and so did the incubus behind you, you dropped your head in defeat as an evil grin was on his face, even had a maniacal laugh could be heard.

"Looks like she isn't, but don't worry baby I'll take you."

"Thank y-"

"But it'll cost you." San has never made you give him gas money, he thought as a man he should never have to ask you for money, plus he was paid much more then you.

"How much do you want?"

"Now, now gorgeous, you know good and well your money is no good with me, but you know what is?"

"Oh fuck."

....

You don't know how much time had passed, to be honest San was making you feel so good you didn't even know if you knew your own name or not anymore. His face was buried deep in your sopping wet pussy as his tongue explored your brown and pink folds. Your thighs sat pretty against his broad shoulders while his fingers dug you out.  Your voice was horse as he was steadily working on your third orgasm, your hands full of his black hair as you gripped it tightly, it stung but San loved it because it meant he was doing a good job. Tears started to form in your eyes as you could feel your climax approaching.

"San, I'm about to cum."

"Already? I'm not done licking up the last one, you're going to have to hold it until I'm done."

You whimpered as San continued to draw perfect 8's on your clit, His two fingers were pounding deeply inside of you as he did the "come here" motion. Your hips lifted on and off the bed, your mind was going blank.

"Please San, please let me cum"

"Almost done."

Your nails dug into his scalp, your thighs started to close around his head, his sharp eyes darted up at you, he loved watching you go crazy.

"You're so good for me, go ahead and cum my angel."

"Ooooh Fuck" was all you could say as you came undone all over his mouth and fingers. You were a sobbing mess as San slowly pulled his fingers from your leaky cunt. He sucked all your cum off of his fingers as he put your legs back on the bed and leaned back up.

"C-can we go now San, it's getting late." you said in a defeated voice as you leaned up on your elbows.

He looked at his apple watch then back at you.

"What's the rush princess? its only 9:56, you still have time, plus I already told you if you want me to take you, you have to let me make you cum 5 times, and we have 2 more times to go." He said as he got off the bed and stood at the end of it.

"San I was supposed to meet them at-" he wasn't listening anymore, he was done talking, his mind was only focused on you cumming again and again for him. San loved the way you felt around his dick, the tight wetness drove him crazy and don't get him wrong when you sucked his dick, he swore he could see the gates of heaven open, but nothing ever compared to how good he felt when he made you feel good. It was not only a sense of pride but he honestly just loved you so much that making you cum was all he needed to get off. When you first started seeing San you let him know that a man has never made you cum before and you made a bet with him that it was impossible to get you to cum. Boy did he prove you wrong, he made you squirt the first time he ever ate you out and it was history from that point onward.

He grabbed you by both your thighs and dragged you to the edge of the bed, he didn't stop there because then he flipped you onto your stomach, San was strong because he worked out a lot so any chance he got to manhandle you, he took it. He gripped the sides of your hips as he pulled your ass in the air to connect to his crotch while your face stayed down. He didn't bother taking off your mini tennis skirt when he started to eat you out earlier since it was so short. You were arched in front of him, your pussy was bare since he ripped your panties off earlier. He stepped back a bit and stood there watching it drip and clench around nothing.

"Don't just stare at it." you said as you started to get shy.

"Why not? It's so pretty all I want to do is look at it." He said while biting his bottom lip.

You wiggled your hips a bit. "San come on you know we have to go soon, you're doing this on purpose." you said in a whiny voice.

Your whine was interrupted by a moan as he slid in his two fingers abruptly.

"So what if I am, this is my pussy to do what I want to it." he started to move his fingers faster.

"I don't even like your friends a lot because they are always trying to steal you away from me, taking you to clubs so other guys get to see you and fawn over you. I'm not there so they don't know this pretty pussy belongs to me. All they see is your sexy face and body wearing your little make up and this short ass skirt."

Sans full on possessive behavior was out, Clingy and possessive could absolutely be seen as red flags to anyone else but with San, those red flags were heart shaped. You loved how much he only wanted you for himself, but damn was in inconveniencing sometimes. He thrust his fingers deep into you at a steady pace, the over stimulation was killing you.

He continued, "If a guy walks up to you tonight and ask you for your number are you going to tell him you belong to me?"

“Yes- fuck!”

“Yes what? What are you going to say baby.” He dug his digits deep into you.

“That I belong to you.”

“Who is you? That’s not my name.” he held his fingers in you waiting for your reply.

“I belong to San Ah~ and only San.”

“Good job lovely, go ahead and cum for me.”

That was exactly what you did, it was that easy for San to make you cum, just some words and gestures. San once again pulled his fingers from your abused cunt, he brought them around to your face for you to suck your cum off them. You but both the wet fingers into your mouth and sucked them clean while he pumped them in and out of your mouth.

“Are you ready for me my love?”

You nodded as he removed his fingers from your mouth.

“I want words baby.”

“Yes San, please fuck me.”

He once again flashed that devious smile before undoing his pants and pulling out his fully erect dick, he pulled you back a bit before pumping it a few times. He lined his tip up with your entrance and you immediately started to clench it, as he slowly pushed his hot length into your wet cunt, moving slowly so you could feel every single inch he was feeding you. Sans dick was just not fair, it had a good and comfortable amount of length and width, but the best part was that his dick had a perfect curve that made him reach a spot in your pussy that most couldn’t. He had a firm grasp on both your hips to make sure you couldn’t run away from him, you fidgeted and whimpered while he stretched you out. Once he finally got all of him inside of you he held it in just so he could bask in the feeling of your hot wet walls against his raw dick, he bit him lip, closed his eyes and just held his head up to the ceiling. You started to become restless, feeling him so deep inside while he wasn’t moving made you dizzy.

“Please San, please move I need more.”

San came back to earth when he hears you begging for more and locked back in.

“Yes baby what ever you want.”

He started to rock his hips into you, you folded your arms under you and put your forehead on your forearm as you let pretty moans fall from your lips. His pace gradually sped up, his hands pulling you back to make his pelvis and your ass meet.

“Are you going to stay here with me?”

“N-No!” You replied.

He rolled his eyes and started to dig deeper into you, moving his hips even faster as your moans started to get louder.

“I said are you going to stay here with me?”

“San please.” You said in a whimpering voice.

He started to slam into you, your eyes began to roll to the back of your head, you felt your orgasm approaching. Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse San placed one of his hands on top of the beginning of your ass. His thumb started to rub your asshole, it was still wet from his spit and your slick when he ate you out. The sensation of him rubbing your second hole felt amazing then he slowly slid his thumb into your tight hole, you could feel him penetrating your asshole slowly while he was still drilling his dick into your drooling cunt. This is the the kinda fucking that makes people want to kill for their partners. You moaned so loud you knew you were going to get a notice complaint, he started to move his thumb in and out your ass.

“You’re such a nasty little bitch, letting my thumb fuck your ass while your pussy takes my dick. Are you this slutty for anyone else?”

“Only you Sannie, only you!” You yelled out, unable to control the volume of your voice anymore.

“That’s right baby, you’re my little slut right?”

“Yes~ I’m your slut.” Tears started to fall from your eyes, he was fucking you dumb with both your holes being stuffed, your pussy started to rapidly clench and unclench.

“Going to cum deep in this slutty pussy and make you walk around that club leaking my cum.”

He kept pounding his hips into and the mental thread in your mind snapped as you felt his hot seed deep in your womb, you couldn’t take it anymore and came around his still leaking dick. San slowly pulled out and backed up a bit, you immediately collapsed to the side of the bed as your eyes felt heavy.

San pulled up his boxer briefs and took his pants off while he smiled at how cute you looked when your were tuckered out. You laid on the bed breathing heavily and fighting the sleep since you were determined to make it out still, he walked to the bathroom to bring back a warm towel to clean you up, he wiped you clean then went to get a different towel, this one had micellar water on it. He sat at the head of the bed and opened his arms to invite you in to be held, you gladly accepted, he held you in one arm as you closed your eyes. He carefully removed your false lashes and placed them on the night stand, the started to wipe the make up you word so hard on off, your body was to tired to even fight it anymore. Your phone rang and San grabbed it and answered it before you could.

“Hello?”

“Hello? San? Where is Y/N?”

“She’s right here.”

“Well when are you bringing her over we waiting’ on her.”

“Oh, she said she’s to tired to go, you know, work and all that.”

The line got quiet for a second before your friend spoke again.

“Boy stop holding my friend hostage.”

San laughed before he hung up. Yeah you’re never going to see your friends again.

taglist:

@mingyuwus@sillyhappygirl@atiny-dime-p1ece@bloody-wine@angelsaway

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

King of Your Heart

Chapter 8 "No more Frankie"

summary: All that Frankie has ever wanted to be was your everything. After years of being best friends one phone call changes everything between the two of you.

inspired by The King by Sarah Kinsley

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap (reader is 28-29, Frankie 38-39), friends with benefits -> situationship, Frankie isn't a dad, jealously, best friends with benefits, reader is lowkey toxic, reader wears makeup, reader has long hair, self-hate (both characters), drug usage (coke), drinking, benny's house party, princess and fish love to argue, FRANKIE IS GETTING CUCKED, light smut, angst, oh yeah and a lot of angst, biting, no y/n, pet names, possessiveness, triple frontier boys, Tom is dead, reader is a flirt

AN: i was inspired by recent life events and these two songs: you don't go to parties by 5SOS wish you were sober by Conan Gray alone by halsey

inside the world of king of your heart

playlist

series mainlist | main masterlist

taglist: @hiroikegawa

'I'm sorry too but Frankie we can't be together if you don't trust me,'

You left Frankie when he fell asleep after going back to his bedroom for another round of sex. The drive home was silent, with no music playing beside your crying. It wasn't supposed to be like this.

You and Frankie were supposed to get married, have babies, and grow old together. You could see yourself having children with him. You never wanted kids until you fell in love with Frankie, your mother was right when she said to you about how you didn't ever want children. 

'When you meet the right person you'll want to have kids with them, it's not about procreating it's about expressing your love for each other. To have the best pieces of each other made into another human.'

You unlocked the apartment and saw Frankie's aero science book sitting on the coffee table. You glared at the book mocking your relationship, you were completely wiped out of Frankie's house but he is still set up at your apartment. You grabbed the book, shoved it into the junk drawer, and then slammed it back into place. 

Your gaze was wandering all over the apartment trying to find anything that was tied to Frankie. His holster, his pocket knife, and a hat that he wore once and shoved into the junk drawer too. Your anger was clouding your mind, time to move on, no more Frankie. 

Your body is tired and aching for rest but you comb through the entire apartment, going through the closet in the hallway for anything Frankie might own, going through the bathroom, the cabinets, and your closet.

There was a pile in the living room of anything Frankie left or gave to you which meant you didn't have a toolbox anymore. Sunlight creeps in and you are sweating from running around like a madman. 

You get an empty cardboard box from moving in and putting the pile of Frankie memorabilia. 

It was difficult readjusting back to a life without Frankie, without having someone to text first thing when you wake up in the morning. You just get ready for work and come home to eat takeout and watch old romance movies with a bottle of wine that changes day to day depending on how you feel after work. 

When poker night comes around, you grudgingly get dressed and went to Will's house hoping just to talk with his fiancee Charlotte. No Frankie that night or the next poker night, everyone was doleful when you wouldn't show up and Frankie did, and vice versa. Ben decided it was time for you and Frankie to face each other but maybe not in an intimate setting.

Benny's end-of-summer house party. He told you it was the pre-game before his infamous Halloween bash. You haven't been to a party since Halloween and well Ben had thrown quite a few of these house parties. You always hear about the next day when you go over to make sure the guys are alive, making them breakfast and getting them to clean up the house while you supervise. 

But here you were 3 months clean from Frankie and you were in a dress that Frankie just loves so much, a white cami top dress with pink roses decorating the center of the neckline, and the hem stopping a little bit short of the mid-thigh.

Why were you wearing this? Maybe to make Frankie wish he had tried harder with you.

Maybe to get some dick tonight whether from Frankie or some friend of Benny's. Maybe Frankie won't be there and you wore the dress for yourself. 

"Princess is here!" Pope yells with a beer in his hand almost having it spill out on your shoes. Your eyes dart around the room, seeing people you barely know and a lot of people you don't even know. Ben was coming right at you with a tray of shots. 

"You have to take these before you're allowed to make a drink," Ben hands you the first one of 4 shots. You throw them back inviting the burning in your throat, it was nice to feel a different kind of pain other than emotional.

You start to warm up while you walk into the kitchen and pull out your vodka that Benny hid away for you. The tartness of the cranberry juice and alcohol hit your tongue and downed the drink, a split second later you are mixing another drink.

The sliding door was opened and people going in and out, you looked around to see Mari making rounds with talking to everyone, the backyard caught your attention when you see Frankie talking to Charolette's maid of honor who was making herself comfortable on his lap. 

You roll your eyes grab the bottle of vodka and start drinking it straight. You were feeling the buzz and take a walk out of the crowd, there was your poison, Daniel from that terrible blind date. Might as take him up on his offer about having a big cock and knowing how to make a girl cum. 

"Well look who it is, Miss Princess," Daniel smirks from the couch and you sit down on his lap, you swing your legs over his thighs and play with the button on his collared shirt. 

"Hi Daniel, I've been thinking about showing how much fun I really am." You lean down to his ear and look out the window watching Frankie walking to the house. You dip into Daniel's neck and lightly graze his skin with your teeth. Then come back up, watching Frankie to the hallway, going into the first room on the left, the guestroom with an ensuite bathroom. 

You stand from the couch and hold your hand to Daniel, he quickly takes your hand. It was blind leading the blind, stumbling your way to the guestroom. You quickly slam the door, seeing the light of the bathroom on. Daniel was opening a tiny baggie with a white powder. He scoops some with a key and snorts it. 

Of course, the finance bro has a coke problem. 

"Want some?" Daniel scoops again and offers, you laugh and bring your nose to the key, sniffing the coke and burning your nostrils. You throw back your head and scrunch your nose, and he starts touching your body, extra sensitive to every motion.

Frankie shuts the sink off when he hears giggling and the door slamming. Moans fill the room, the hair on the back of his neck. He knows those moans, Frankie slowly opens the door just enough to see you riding the bastard Daniel, you were in reverse cowboy, playing with your tits and you looked Frankie right in the eyes. 

"So hot, princess!" Daniel pants, watching you bounce on his dick. Frankie gripped the door knob tighter almost ripping it from the door. 

Of course, this is how you want to be. Your hand slides down to your clit and draws tight little circles around it. 

"F-Fuck yes! Oh, you're so good!" You performed for the sake of Daniel's ego and for Frankie to see you getting pleasure from someone else.

You quickly succumb to your orgasm as Frankie gives you a glaring stare.

"Cum in me, baby," You continued to slamming yourself back down on Daniel's decent cock, nothing to be too fucked out of.

Frankie closes the door, quickly and quietly when Daniel spills his cum inside of you. He gets up and leaves to get another drink. You walk to the bathroom door and slip inside. Preparing you to face Frankie but there was the window above the tub opened and scuff marks from his boots on the tub. 

Frankie crawled out the window and tried to make his sudden appearance seem normal. His heart racing after watching you fuck another guy and came because Frankie just watching it happen. The image of your beautiful body on display made him hard even if you were having sex with someone else. 

You stumble out to the living room and see Daniel talking to a girl who is just equally as trashed as him. You find the vodka and make another drink before going to the backyard.

There were all the guys standing in a huddle, Pope saw you first and nudged Will and they broke apart and greeted you. Frankie stands there with hands in his pockets. Will apparently was being called over to his fiancee and Pope and Benny needed more to drink with cups still full.

Frankie breathes out and looks at your pupil's blown and glazed eyes. He never thought you would become this. He feels responsible for your destructive way of coping. 

"If you wanted to make me jealous, you could've just kissed the fucker not have sex with him." Frankie finally admitted his jealousy for anyone who even looked at you and is now jealous of Daniel for getting to have you the same way you had Frankie. 

"Frankie-"

 "I don't care that you fucked him. I care more about the fact that you did coke. Something you know that I've had past with." He was right. How could you do that? You know about the last time Frankie had his coke problem? What kind of friend does that?

Are you even still friends?

[deathmybride]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ these violent delights | davos blackwood (part 8) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 ❤️‍🔥| Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 ❤️‍🔥

ship: davos blackwood x fem!oc

warnings: organised religion i guess...

summary: cersha visits the sept at riverrun

word count: 1350

a/n: ok i've been lowkey hyping up another smut chapter but this one became something... else, so smut next time! We have only 2 chapters and the epilogue left (if I can keep to my plan) so everyone get excited for the ending :)

Cersha knelt in the seclusion and silence of the sept for a long while, floating in a haze of contemplation. Heavy resin incense billowed from seven brass censer burners which hung from the stained pine rafters that splayed out into a great star that stretched to each corner of the heptagonal room. The sunlight through the stained glass painted cobalt, crimson, emerald, canary, tyrian, fuchsia, and tangerine over the hardwood floor, and it spun out into rainbow fractals from the prisms embedded in each of the windows. It was there that she felt the panicked guilt that once fizzed through her veins subside, replaced by the love of God in all his Seven aspects curling around her in light and smoke. It was the Maiden she prayed to, and that vision of purity and clarity answered her reverent conversation by conjuring an old memory.

There had been a celebration for a union between two of the Riverhouses, a gathering of noble youths. Cersha was twelve years old and after the ceremony she had played chasings with the other little girls and weaved daisies into Walda Darry’s hair. That was the day that she first met Elmo and little Oscar. Elmo was four and ten, tall and lean, with deep auburn hair that shone like fire in the sunlight. He looked like a man to her, and had all of a man’s charm. He lead his little brother with a gentle hand on his shoulder, only eight years old he was, with the biggest, brightest eyes that watched the girls with an intense curiosity.

“Greetings, ladies.” Elmo had announced. His voice had already broken, and though it still held the timbre of youth, the depth of it made her shiver. “Oscar wants to play too.”

“Of course he can!” It was Walda Darry who spoke up, abandoning Cersha and her flowers, and took the child by the hand. Flashing an eager smile at Elmo that was not lost to Cersha, she lead him away to play, casting several glances behind her to ensure the older boy was observing her apparent kindness.

Left with a lap full of flowers and a keen sense of envy, she marched after Elmo as he turned to leave and tapped him insistently on the shoulder. He turned, a glower of annoyance on his face.

“My lord Tully.” She said flatly and thrust out her fist to… offer? No, to demand that he take a flower from her muddy hand.

A lop-sided half-smile spread across his face and he plucked a healthy sprig of foxglove for himself.

“Thank you, my lady Bracken.”

She took a deep breath, her gaze darting between his irises as if trying to commit every fractal blue detail to memory. He chuckled, and turned to leave, but she spoke up again.

“Might I put some in your hair?”

He laughed, turning a little circle and casting a glance at the group of boys on the far side of the garden who were standing around waiting for him. She saw Aeron’s long blonde hair and golden finery amongst them, a tall boy with a tawny Rhoynish complexion, a Strong, and a boy in black and red with a mop of unruly dark hair. He rubbed a hand over his reddening face, and nodded.

“Yes, yes.” He giggled around the words. “Of course, my lady.”

Without another word she plonked down onto the ground and crossed her legs. He seemed confused for a moment, as people often did in her presence at that age, but soon figured out her meaning, and sat down across from her as her perfect mirror. She shuffled in as close as she could to him, and began poking the tiny daisies and clovers into his auburn curls.

“Cersha.”

“Sorry?”

“Cersha is my name.”

“Oh. Elmo Tully. I am most pleased to make your acquaintance.

She sat still for a moment, a daisy between her fingers as she frowned, trying to remember something, some social norm she was forgetting, then she thrust out her hand to him. He laughed, shaking his head a little, and shook it.

“Aren’t you supposed to kiss it?”

More laughter.

“I suppose I could. Would you like that?”

She sucked in a breath, sure that she was glowing red, and managed to nod. He laughed some more and pressed a quick kiss to her knuckles. She was sure it was the finest feeling in the world. The moment was quickly interrupted by the little boy thundering over and slapping a hand onto Elmo’s shoulder.

“You’re it!” He declared, a pearly smile on his face and willow catkins in his hair.

“I’m not playing, Osc.” Elmo sighed, but Oscar’s disappointment was short lived.

“Flowers!” He gasped, pointing at the pink and white that graces those curls of flame. “Can I have some?”

“Ask Cersha. And be polite.”

“MayIpleasehave- um, can you please put some in my hair, please, thank you?”

“Let me finish-”

“I have enough, thank you, my lady.” Elmo was already rising to his feet.

“I’m not done!”

“Thank you, lady.” He tossed over his shoulder as he jogged off. The group of boys seemed to jeer as he approached. Even Aeron.

She could not stare at them for long as Oscar plopped down in front of her and looked at her with wide, expectant eyes. He spent the whole ordeal giggling and asking her a score of questions, and though she usually found herself annoyed by younger children, Oscar proved himself witty for his age and she declared herself his friend by the end of the day, to his delight.

When she retired to her chambers that night with her mother tucking her into bed, she talked incessantly of all that had happened, slipping into that affected northern accent that only arose when she was alone with her mother. She listened in her still, silent way with the full moon haloing on her mass of dark curls, and then she smiled sagely.

“He sounds like quite the boy.”

“Oh, he is! I want to marry him, mama.”

She cocked her head, contemplating. Her thin lips pursed as she wiped some of her daughter’s hair from her face, deep-set brown eyes suddenly weary beyond her years.

“Let me give you a peace of advice, my girl, something you won’t hear at the sept. There is a hundred times more shame in going gently into the arms of a man you do not love out of a sense of duty, to your house, to your father, to me, than there is in giving yourself out of wedlock to a man that you love… or even simply for the thrill or the pleasure of it. Your father and I began as a tryst of desire, but love grew from it. There was no sin it in, I tell you, my girl. Sex… the only sin to be found in that is taking it by force and coercion.

“You are young and I want you to be careful, touch no man until you trust him completely and look at every man with suspicion. Dig into him, root out the darkness in him and turn away from it. You are a trusting girl, sometimes too trusting, but as you grow older and wiser, it is your responsibility to live your life as you want it. If… If I’m not here to help you, you must promise me you will not accept a marriage you do not want. Do whatever you must, but please don’t let these southron gods take your spirit.”

“But… you’ll be here for a long time yet, won’t you?”

Her hand fell to her swelling stomach.

“The future is a fickle thing. But I will try, my girl, I will try.”

Cersha found herself on her feet in a sudden movement of epiphany. Though her mother may have sprinkled in a little blasphemy, her sentiment was sound, and the gods must agree if the memory came to her in such a holy place. The weight was lifted and she tilted her head back and laughed.

Thanks to my lovelies @aemondslove @disillusioned-phantasma @anaviieiraaa @deepestlovert @flordiakilos @kitty2984 @kpopfanfictionfantacies @sometings @nikkilsworld @gladiatorgladiator @borislava17 @oshun22 @spider-stark @marvelenthusiast10 @itsyagirl01 @nixtape-foryou @giggles-andkicks @benijbol @darlingcharling-blog @writervaul-t @kayrakhan @unicorntrooper @frogoerson @aphroditeanadyomene @councilofcastamere @ellxpsismm for your reblogs and comments! I'm doing it for you guys :)

[mieluscious]

say it. geto suguru

ෆ miel's note : part 1

⭒⏝4.2k . . . warnings : smut | mdni. bully!geto, nerd!꒰ f.꒱reader, hate sex, degradation, cheating, face slapping꒰ m.꒱, rough sex, hair pulling, risk of getting caught, dumbification, spit play, geto is a piece of shit, lowkey toxic, pussy fingering, face grabbing . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

“teacher, should i study this chapter for tomorrow's midterm?” you tried to study as hard as you could to get the best grade in your school, seeing your name at the top of the list was such an intense feeling of pride that you became obsessed with it. the teacher approached your desk and circled with his red pen what would be important for you to learn.

“this chapter is not very important but it's good to have everything in mind, you’re a good student y/n.” he smiled and you lowered your head, blushing as you thanked him. “i have to go away for a while. is it okay if i leave you here all alone?” you nodded at him with a smile.

“it’s fine don’t worry, im gonna stay a little bit longer and when i’m done i’ll give the classroom keys back to the secretary.” he smiled back and grabbed his bag, he wished you good luck and disappeared behind the classroom door, leaving you alone with your books. 

you were so busy solving your math problem that you didn't hear the door open behind you. you gasped as two hands came down hard on your desk. he pressed his chest against your back, and you could now feel his breath against your ear. "you really are the teacher's pet mh?” you didn't move, thinking that your anger would please him too much, you continued to study as if nothing had happened, putting your glasses back on your nose. “aw are you ignoring me y/n?” you still didn't move, and he took the opportunity to press his lips to your ear. 

fearing what he might say, you spoke before he did. “where is satoru ?” he straightened up and sighed, he stepped in front of you and rested his lower back against the desk behind him. you blushed slightly as you remembered the last time he positioned himself like that in front of you. your face was still down on your notebook, but you could feel his piercing gaze on you. he rested his head on his shoulder while his eyes analyzed your face, it was the first time he'd seen you with glasses on. you were very pretty today and he couldn't stop looking at you. 

“why don’t you try to look at me if you want to ask me a question.” his voice was deeper and you prayed inwardly that he didn't see your ears twitching. you raised your head towards him, his dark gaze met yours and a smirk played across his lips.

“i don’t like you, i don’t want you to be around me.” he licked his lips as he saw your face harden in annoyance. “and if satoru isn't around i don’t understand why the hell you are here but let me tell you something, i don’t give a fuck, you know why ? because i don’t have time for you geto.” his smile widened at the mention of his last name and seeing him so arrogant irritated you even more, you just wanted to study peacefully  and he had to come here to piss you off. he jerked your desk with his foot making you get up from your chair. “what the fuck are you doing ?” his eyes fell on your outfit. cute. you saw him move and you immediately froze. “stop. don’t come near me.” he approached you and you took several steps backwards before ending up pressed against one of the classroom windows. you turned your head to the side to see that some students were playing soccer in the schoolyard. 

geto placed his leg between your thighs. you pressed the back of your head against the window as you felt him bring his face closer to yours, you didn't lower your gaze from his eyes, you didn't want to show him that he could intimidate you. he placed his hands on either side of your hips on the windowsill. since he was much taller than you he pressed his forehead against yours, looking down at you. “you're back to being the mean little girl you like to be with me.” his nose was touching yours. you held back a squeal when you felt his knee rise between your thighs. “behave y/n.” 

you brought your face closer, brushing your lips against his, your eyes juggling between his two eyes. “aw are you mad at me? you're not scaring me, geto.” he smiled once again. “i'll never listen to you, you mean nothing to me. you're the only one who's obsessed with me.” one of his hands slipped behind your lower back, bringing your hips close to his thigh. you opened your mouth slightly as you felt the pants on his leg press against the fabric of the lace panties under your skirt. his eyes dropped on your luscious mouth. you smiled. “i didn’t know i had that much of an effect on you.”

“then why are you looking at me like that?” his hand behind your back grabbed the fabric of your skirt, pushing you harder against his leg making you reach for his uniform jacket as your clit came into contact with his thigh. “why do you always look at me like you want me to throw you against a wall and fuck you until you can't walk anymore?” he pressed you harder against the window, his hand still behind you, making you arch your back. “you should stop lying lil nerd.” you tugged at the bottom of his jacket, biting your lip under his dark gaze. he rubbed his thigh against your clit again, making you open your mouth a little wider. “does hating me turn you on that much?” 

“you wish.” his other hand grabbed your throat, causing you to let out a soft moan from between your lips.

“should i check then?” you mewled quietly as you felt the hand behind your back gently brush its fingers over your hip to reach under the front of your skirt. his thumb brushed your clit against your panties and your teeth sank even deeper into your lip under geto's watchful gaze. his finger gently tugged at your panties letting it seep between your pussy lips making you close your thighs on his leg. you turned your head to the side when you felt his face down your neck, he pressed his lips to your ear and chuckled at how wet you were, making you flinch. “such a lil liar, hm?” he licked the inside of your ear and a moan betrayed you. you didn't realize how hard you were pulling on his jacket until the buttons fell off and scattered on the floor, revealing his muscular body in his molded black t-shirt. he smiled. “just ask me if you want to see me naked.” 

his necklace gently caressed the skin of your collarbones as he breathed. his thumb pressed on your jaw, making you throw your head back a little more against the window. “i’d rather die” you looked at him out of the corner of your eye, gritting your teeth as he lifted his face to yours, smiling arrogantly. you were fighting yourself so hard, you hated geto deeply and you'd never lied about this feeling but you couldn't deny the sexual attraction you had for him. the way he looked at you was so different from gojo. he liked to push your buttons and he knew how to do it, and even if his arrogant and proud behavior pissed you off to no end you knew that deep down you couldn't help imagining yourself making him shut his mouth in a more explicit way. you smirked as you caught him looking at you, his eyes slowly roving over every feature of your face. “what's wrong pretty boy you wanna take a picture? so you can jerk off on it at night.” 

his whole hand was now in your panties he pinched your clit hard between his thumb and his forefinger making you squeal loudly. you grabbed his wrist by reflex. he leaned his head on his shoulder and looked straight into your eyes, his gaze growing colder despite his beautiful smile. “i don't need a picture for that.” you blushed against your will at his words. you sighed at him to go fuck himself when his thumb began to slowly massage your clit. he licked his lips as he watched you try as best you could to keep your moans to yourself, the bastard knew exactly how to make you feel good and it pissed you off as much as it aroused you. he grasped your jaw firmly and found himself between your thighs, his lips brushing yours. “my lil doll is trying so hard, so cute.” his thumb rubbed your clit harder making you open your mouth wider under his burning gaze. “yeah? does it feels good?” you grabbed his shirt with both hands, tugging at it angrily, hating him for making you want him so much. he chuckled, seeing you so frustrated reminded him of an angry little kitten. the pleasure you felt under his caresses was driving you crazy. you knew you could cum very quickly and you didn't want to let yourself be defeated so easily. but the look in his eyes was so intense that you couldn't stop yourself from moaning against his lips.

“s-stop looking at me-” you squealed as you felt him pinch your clit again. “-like that.” you slammed your fist against his chest. “fuuck- i fucking hate you-” you tried to escape his gaze by turning your head to the side, but he caught it immediately, pressing the back of your head harder against the window. he pushed two fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist. 

he fingerfucked you hard, making you bang against the window with each thrust. you could no longer hold back your moans, you were so loud you were sure you could be heard from the corridor. geto's cocky grin never faded from his face and it frustrated you even more. geto loved to see you lower your weapons under him. you were so cute trying to pretend that the attraction you had for him didn't exist, geto was a great observer and during the few years he was able to spend with you, he had the time to analyze every one of your expressions and know them perfectly. and his favorite one was the face you had when you were about to cum, just like right now. he thrust his fingers inside you so hard that you felt geto's urge to punish you. he smiled even more wickedly as he saw the tip of your tongue sticking out of your mouth. “aw are you getting dumb so easily?” he licked your lips and the walls of your pussy tightened around his fingers. “i can see it on your pretty face.” 

you slid your hands against his torso and finally grabbed his small waist, digging your nails into his skin through the fabric of his t-shirt, making him grunt against your mouth. “y-you..can make me cum all day long. fuck…it won't make me-ah!- r-respect you-” his hand left your jaw to grasp the bottom of your top, lifting it to reveal your breasts in your black lace bra. he stuck the end of your shirt in your mouth, letting you reveal yourself to him. you let him do it, looking at him with a dark look in your eyes. 

your orgasm rose higher and higher as you felt his large hand grasp your breast under your bra, massaging your bud firmly. “what a nasty little mouth you have.” his thrusts between your legs accelerated making you arch your back against his chest, his cold necklace swayed against the burning skin of your neck. "shall i teach you another lesson?" your moans grew louder when geto spat on your breast bud and blew on it. you nodded at him and pulled on his shirt, wanting to bring him closer to you. he smiled. you were so much more docile when you were close to cuming. geto caught your lip between his teeth before sucking on it. his hand slid down your back to grasp your ass firmly. you moved your hips against his fingers, moaning loudly against his lips while meeting each of his thrusts, you were feeling it, your orgasm was building, and you couldn't take your eyes off his but it’s when you were about to cum when geto decided to take his fingers out of your pussy. 

he took a step backwards, leaving you panting against the window. you only realized a few seconds later that he'd just stopped you from cuming on purpose, he stood proudly in front of you with his hands in his pockets, smiling even wider as he saw your eyes darken and your cheeks turn red with anger. “that’s why i fucking hate you.” you stood up and slammed your fist into his chest, making him chuckle. “you’re just a fucking asshole.” you hit him again. “a fucking piece of shit.” he whistled, impressed to hear your little mouth let out so many nasty words at once. you felt so humiliated and the fact that he was openly laughing at you made you even madder. “get the fuck out of here or im calling satoru.” and this time he laughed, a real laugh, your teeth clenched together so hard you were on the verge of breaking your jaw. you couldn’t take it anymore, you turned your back to him to get your things and leave.

he grabbed a chair and sat down. “and what are you going to tell him? mh? that you had my fingers in your cute little cunt 2min before i bothered you?” you froze. he tilted his head to the side, watching your body tremble slightly. “we could also show him how much you loved it, i still have my fingers wet.” you immediately turned to him and slapped his face with all your might. you breathed heavily while geto were silent, his head tilted to one side because of your slap. 

then reality hit you. you'd just slapped geto.

he sighed softly, moving the few strands of hair that had escaped from his bun over his face. he removed his jacket revealing his muscular arms and you tried to hide your gasp as you met his gaze. his eyes were sharp and darker than ever, the way he looked at you let you know he was going to make you cry in no time. it wasn't the first time you'd angered geto like that, but you'd never been alone in a room with him when he was like that. you could feel the fear rising, but the anger you felt was much more intense to let yourself be fooled by emotions of weakness. "i already told you geto. you don't scare me." his dark gaze slid slowly over your lovely bare thighs.

“mhm.” he tilted his head to the side, licking his lips as he saw your juices running down your leg. “so why are you shaking like that y/n.” you gasped as he stood up from his chair to grab your hair and pull you closer to his face. you grabbed his shirt between your trembling hands. “why do you have to be such a mean lil girl mh?” your lips brushed against each other and his eyes never left yours. “satoru is too nice to you, he doesn't put you in your place enough.” you mewled as he ripped off your panties with his other hand. “i have to fix that.” you wrapped your arms around his neck as he grabbed your ass to lift you up. his mouth caught yours greedily and your tongues began to fight. you pulled yourself away from his lips to tell him how much you hated him. one of his hands grabbed your throat and he walked over to the teacher's desk before positioning you on it, your legs firmly around his waist. he withdrew from your mouth and allowed himself to spit into it. “look at you.” he spat again. “you wanna fuck mh?” he laid you on the desk and lifted your skirt, spreading your pussy lips with his fingers. “you dare to slap me and then you want to fuck me mh?” he spat on your clit making you arch your back against the desk, your eyes filled with a mixture of rage and excitement. “such a nasty lil girl.”

his hand went into his pants to pull out his cock and your legs tightened around his waist wanting him inside you as fast as possible. “fuck you.” you tilted your head to the side and arched your back to remove your top and bra, leaving only your skirt on. “you're the most annoying guy i've ever met in my life.” he pressed his hand against your lower belly and you mewled as you felt his cock slap and slide against your pussy lips, slamming it against your clit. he approached you and put his forearms on either side of your head. you grabbed his lip between your teeth and pulled it before letting him suck on your tongue. “you're a fucking asshole.” he thrust his cock against your pussy without getting inside making you both groan. “i have to fuck you to get you out of my head.” he smiled devilishly against your lips and finally thrust his cock inside your cunt causing you to throw your head back and let out a loud scream.

his stomach rubbed yours with each of his powerful thrusts, stimulating your clit against his pubis at the same time. you put your arms behind his back and grabbed the bottom of his shirt, pulling on it to let him know you wanted him to take it off. you mewled as you felt him accelerate his thrusts. “you can't keep still huh? needy lil girl always wants something.” you squealed in frustration and pulled even harder on his shirt, finally making him stand up, take it off and throw it behind him before falling back on top of you, leaving you free to scratch the skin on his back. he moaned against your mouth as he felt your sharp nails dig into his skin. “look at you. fuck.” his hand slipped between your legs to grab one of your thighs and press it against the desk, making you spread your legs wider. you groaned, arching your back as he put his knee on the desk to fuck you even deeper. 

your hands went up to his hair, you loosened his bun, letting his long locks fall over his shoulders and against your neck. you tugged at themz firmly, causing him to throw his head back with a grunt. your pussy tightened around his cock as your eyes fell on his adam's apple. “i-it’s not because-” your fingernails dug even deeper into his skin as his balls slammed harder against your ass. “-your dick is good…ah-that i give a fuck about..- you-” he chuckled and looked down at you as he kept pounding your pussy.

“my dick is good huh?” he grabbed your throat and squeezed hard, making you squeal from lack of air. “you’re so honest. what's satoru gonna think of you mh?” you pulled even harder on his hair, which made him growl again. “what will he think of his little princess who likes to be fucked by his best friend's cock?” this time you tried to slap him, but he grabbed your hand and slammed it over your head against the desk. he smiled at the sight of your breasts bouncing with each of his thrusts. “you like slapping me a little bit too much.” he caught your hand in his hair and pressed it against the desk as well. you were now a moaning mess underneath him, the way geto hit his cock directly against your g-spot so easily drove you crazy. you arched your back so hard that your breasts were pressed against his chest, geto didn't miss a moment of the show you were offering him, your delicious mouth that let out little mewls and the glasses that slipped off your nose with each of his thrusts only made his cock even harder. “im so sad for satoru” he stopped himself to pull out his cock and thrust back inside brutally, making you scream so fucking loud. “he can't even see how pretty you look right now.” you squealed when geto suddenly straightened up and pulled you against him, your hands slid over his ass loving the feel of his deep thrusts and you stayed like that for a few seconds, enjoying the way geto was fucking you. you finally looked up at him and your heart skipped a beat when you caught him already looking at you. his mouth was half-open, letting out silent moans as his piercing gaze studied your tear-filled eyes. he brought his face close until his nose touched yours. “say it.” you let out a sob against his mouth as you felt him grab your wrists with one hand and pin them behind your back with an iron grip. the skin of his muscular stomach was so warm against yours. the tip of your tongue caressed his lip as you looked into his eyes. “say my name.” he lowered his face into your neck and you threw your head back as you felt his soft tongue caress your skin from your collarbones to your left ear, which he licked and sucked gently, making your whole body tremble with pleasure. “c’mon. say my name the way you so beautifully said it last time.”

his voice was so charming, it vibrated in your ears like a melody and turned you on even more, you could feel your wetness flowing around his cock and on the desk below you. you hated geto, but the way he begged you while placing small little kisses on your ear, made your heart race. and you hated him even more for making you feel that way. you tried to free your wrists from his grip but he held you in place as if his life depended on it. you mewled louder and your tears of pleasure redoubled as he continued to thrust harder and harder inside you. the sound of his balls slamming into your ass echoed throughout the classroom. you could feel your juices starting to spurt around his cock, a sign that you were about to cum. he grabbed your jaw with his other hand, making you look at him in the eye again, his forehead against yours. your mouth opened wide, letting out louds "ah-aha-haah-ah" as your legs trembled around his waist. geto looked at you intensely, his eyebrows frowned and he moaned louder, feeling that he was close to cumming too. your walls tightened deliciously around him when you lowered your gaze to where you were both connected, you couldn't help but find satisfaction in the way his fat cock kept pounding inside you. you looked up at him again and felt like you were going to cum when you saw his face, geto looked so helpless at that moment his cheeks were all pink and a few strands of his now damp hair fell over the pretty features of his face. “s-suguru..” a sparkle flashed in his eyes. his grip on your wrists loosened and you took the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck. you gently kissed his lips and gazed into his eyes. “m-make me cum.. s-suguru-” 

and that's when geto snapped, his eyes immediately darkened when he saw you so sweet and pretty for him. he slammed you back against the desk and brought your legs over his shoulders, this new position made you scream and he pushed inside you much deeper, hitting your g-spot every time. he inserted his thumb in your mouth and watched you being a moaning mess under him. “say you love me y/n.” you could feel the orgasm rising at his words. 

your back arched violently as you felt yourself cumming hard against geto. you thrust your hips against his, your glasses slipped off your nose and an arrogant smile spread across geto's lips as he watched you go stupid over his cock. “ah-ah..ah-i-i love… you suguru-” your half-open lips and feverish gaze planted in his were enough to make him cum inside you while moaning against your lips. 

his thrusts slowed and he put his forearms on either side of your head, smiling as he watched you try to catch your breath, your makeup was running down your pretty face and your glasses had slid against your lips. he gently grabbed the back of your head and blew on your ear, making you flinch. cute.

“i told you i was gonna teach you how to love me.” 

© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨. 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 ☆

[stemroses]

Omg yes!

See I didn’t know what “lemon” “slash” “citrus scale” and like everything else we use in fanfics mean when I first started. (Mainly bc I found fanfics in the fourth grade and never stopped). So I basically had to teach myself “huh… those words that they use but don’t mean the actual meaning means that the people do stuff you’re not suppose to do. Interesting. Weird.., but ok”. So I really liked the fics that were like “stop reading here” or “skip to next chapter if you don’t wanna read smut” . ❤️❤️ bc I miss that. A lot actually. We should bring that back. Give me my warning back.

full offense but none of you would have ever survived fanfiction.net in 2009

[vamossainz55]

Moonlight Ch. 8 | Carlos Sainz Jr. x Reader

a/n: okay, a day late, but guys, bare with me. this is a lot (i know i say it but tbh i have not been letting anyone catch a break lmao). warnings are pretty heavy? or this chapter is probably just the heaviest in general. i really hated writing most of it (just because i was getting my scheduled writers block) and was struggling but i really hope you enjoy <3, i really put all my heart (and tears) in this one.

as always constructive criticism is greatly appreciated <3

warnings: 18+ // angst, a lot of self deprication lowkey? abandonment issues lowkey? smut tho, like pretty heavy and explicit (oral, p in v, unprotected sex but pls wrap it irl guys 💀. neck grabbing, degradation, name calling, quite kinky ngl so please look away if it isnt your thing and just skip the part. if you are under 18 pleas please stay away!), also cheating, like straight up cheating and mentions of cheating. oops. sorry not sorry .

link to masterlist + summary

link to chapter 7

Chapter 8 (6.4k words)

The two weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions, Carlos was still imprinted into your brain and no matter how many nights you slept next to Bastien, all you could think about was the press of Carlos’ skin against yours. 

You try your best to wash the feeling away, or hope that late nights with Bastien would get the driver out of your mind, but you soon learn this is useless. It’s frustrating, and you feel the need to scream. 

Being away hadn’t helped at all, it had only made your mind wander more. You wondered what would have happened with Carlos, what the driver was feeling, was he also thinking of you as much as you were thinking of him?

All the thoughts came with bitterness too though, because all you could also think about was why the two of you had broken up. It was always mutually agreed but the more you thought about it the more upset you felt, at the end of the day Carlos was the one who broke up with you. 

It wasn’t fair. 

You had finally gotten over Carlos and somehow he had crawled back into your mind and made himself at home. Was he to blame though? You had practically opened the door and welcomed him in. 

To make matters worse, Bastien was not making it any of this easier. He would bring up Carlos at every opportunity, holding it against you for every little thing. You felt hopeless, and although you understood why Bastien felt the way he did it only made you feel even further away from him. The only times you both didn’t argue was when you were in bed, sharing fevered kisses with your hands roaming on each other's bodies. 

The moment you arrive back in the UK you feel even worse than when you left. The excitement of the season starting had worn off and all you felt was dread.

You were dreading being away from Bastien, and even worse you were dreading being around Carlos. Bastien had made it loud and clear before you left that you both needed some distance and you promised him you would maintain some space from the Spaniard. 

That’s why you decline Carlos’ offer to drive you to the office for the briefing two days before your flight to Melbourne. 

You arrive late to the meeting because of this, having pushed yourself to go after swallowing down the anxiety that had built inside you. You see Carlos and Lando sitting in the front and there’s a chair next to Carlos who instantly gives you a smile before patting the empty spot. You give him a quick smile before making a beeline to the back of the room, missing the drop of his smile as soon as you look away. 

The sight of him was already making you feel sick. 

The planning team is nice and you’re impressed with how detailed they are, planning the trip to the T. You’re taking down notes in your notebook to make sure you have everything written down for the trip before you feel a shift next to you. To your surprise you find Carlos sitting down next to you. 

“Hey,” he murmurs in a low voice and you instantly start feeling a bit nervous. 

“Hey,” you say trying to sound as dismissive as possible but Carlos nudges your side with his arm, making you look over at him again. 

“You okay? Why were you late?” He asks and you’re still focused on taking down your notes. 

“Missed the bus,” you murmur, still not looking up at Carlos. You’re about to flip to the next page when Carlos stops you, grabbing the notebook from you and putting it on his lap. 

“Y/n,” he says and you’re taking a deep breath. “What’s up? I thought we were good.” He says and you shrug. 

“We are, I just wanna make sure I have everything noted down.” You’re properly looking at him now and he’s leaning close to you because of how you were both whispering to each other. 

“You’re avoiding me now, I’m not dumb.” Carlos argues, moving the notebook away from you as soon as you try to take it from him. You give him a stern look, one that says stop it but he doesn’t give it back, simply holding it further away from you. 

“Can we talk about this later?” You ask, not wanting to have the conversation infront of dozens of people. 

Carlos looks sceptical as soon as you say this and he lets out a sigh before nodding. You expect him to give the notebook back as you extend your hand out for him to return it but he simply shakes his head. 

“Not until we talk.” He says before he’s getting up with your notebook to sit back next to Lando, not caring about the heads that were turning to look at him. 

Later turns out to be later in the evening much to your dismay. Tom apparently had a few things he had to catch you up to and you had told Carlos that you both could just talk before your flight to Melbourne but you’re quick to realise as you’re leaving the office that Carlos was still there. 

He was sitting by the lobby, arms on his knees as he scrolled through his phone with his head down. For a second you wonder whether you can sneak out without him noticing you but your footsteps prompt him to look up. 

“Ah- thought you were never going to finish. Let’s go? I’ll drive you home.” He says as he’s getting up. You realise his hand is nicely wrapped around your notebook still and you wonder how long he had sat there and waited for you by himself. 

For a moment you consider taking the ride from Carlos but you’re soon hearing a soft nagging voice in your head that sounds too much like Bastien that has you glued to the floor, not walking to the door. Carlos takes a second to notice this before he’s turning to you. He’s halfway to the exit and he can’t help but to furrow his brows. 

“What’s up? You don’t want me to drive you home now?” He asks and you simply shake your head, knowing that you need to already start to set boundaries. It wasn’t fair for both Bastien and Carlos. Sure, you knew Carlos was just offering a ride, but you needed to draw the line already.

“I should go home by myself.” You say and Carlos looks confused, looking at you and waiting for you to explain further. You take a deep breath to prepare yourself to speak. 

“I talked to Bastien about what happened,” You explain, looking around to see whether there was anybody around. “I think it’s better if we keep some distance. I love Bastien and I don’t want to make him uncomfortable or jeopardise our relationship.”

It takes a moment for Carlos to process the words, and he’s looking at you as if he’s waiting for you to say the punchline of the joke. When he realises you’re being serious he runs his hand through his hair. “Come on y/n, you’re kidding right?” he chuckles a bit, and there’s a cold edge to his voice that creates a sour taste in your mouth. “We’re friends no?” He asks and you have to look away from his eyes. 

“Carlos,” You sigh out, and you’re crossing your arms over your chest. Frankly, you don’t know how to answer Carlos’ question. Sure you were friends, but you both knew there were other feelings going around. 

“If we’re just friends it shouldn’t be a problem that I hang out with you.” Carlos says and he’s coming a bit closer to you. “Unless you feel differently,” His voice lowers a bit, just to make sure if anyone passed they wouldn’t be able to hear your conversation. “Did that morning mean anything to you?” Carlos practically murmurs and he’s so close there’s a shiver that goes down your spine and you force yourself to step away. 

“I don’t want to talk about that Carlos.” You say, taking another step away, this time towards the door. Carlos decided to stop you though, reaching out to grab your wrist and you feel a jolt of electricity spark up your body as he holds onto you. 

“Let me just drive you home.” Carlos says searching for your eyes. “We need to talk about this, y/n.” He insists and you shake your head. You didn’t want to talk about it, you knew that it was just going to only do your head in and open up questions that could just stay closed.

“There’s nothing to talk about Carlos.” You murmur and you try to step away but Carlos is still holding your wrist. 

“That’s not true.” Carlos says, and you’re startling to feel a bit annoyed at how much Carlos was pressing on this, still holding onto your wrist. Could he not just leave the topic alone? 

“What do you even want to talk about, hm?” You ask and your voice is louder than you expected but you’re too nervous to stop yourself. “You want to get back together?” 

Carlos’ eyes go wide, not expecting you to say that and he gently pulls you closer, “Lower your voice a bit y/n.” He says and you’re scoffing, looking at him. You don’t know what comes over you but you suddenly feel both hurt and angry. 

“Oh, I see. Now you don’t want people to know we were together?” You say and this time Carlos pulls you to one of the hallways, covering your mouth in the process. 

You roll your eyes as you stumble with him into the hallway, and once the door is shut you push his arm away. 

Carlos looks pissed. “What’s wrong with you?” He asks and you almost laugh at his question and he can’t help but frown a bit at your reaction. Why couldn’t he let old topics rest?

“I think you forgot how things ended Carlos. You broke up with me. You said you needed to focus on racing, I was clearly just a distraction.” You say, clearly upset that you even had to bring up the conversation. “I have a boyfriend now, and we are doing just fine. Sure we have had our ups and downs but it’s fine these things happen. Barcelona happened but honestly- it was nothing Carlos. Nothing happened for a reason.” You don’t know where the words are coming from and you’re not sure if you mean every single one but you’re surprised with how sure you sounded. Carlos looks stunned and his lack of response has you even more emotional.

“We broke up because you left me Carlos” You say angrily. “You have no right to be messing with my brain now. So quit it.” For a second you consider just walking off and leaving but Carlos is standing in front of the door, soon speaking up. 

“I’m messing with your brain? You’re the one that walked back into my life, and don’t act like you didn’t know or mean what you were doing in my hotel room. I know you.” Carlos says and this time he is stepping closer to you but you stand your ground, not stepping back. His hair is tousled and his face is red from how frustrated he’s getting too. You can’t believe you forgot how good he looked when he was mad. 

“I am trying to make something out of my life Carlos. It’s not like I had a choice as to which team I wanted to go to.” You say in annoyance. “I shouldn’t have gone into your stupid hotel room. I regret doing that, it shouldn't have gotten that far.”

Carlos is coming closer and despite you both arguing he’s looking at you feverishly and this time you have to take a step back. This doesn’t stop Carlos from following your steps though and stepping closer to you until your back is against the wall. He’s standing right in front of you, barely leaving any space between you both and your mind is taking you back to the hotel.

You suddenly realise how clammy your hands feel and how flushed your cheeks are and the way Carlos is looking at you is making you squirm.

“What did you say hm? That you regret it?” Carlos asks and his voice is so strong and firm that it has your stomach turning. 

You almost don’t find the voice to speak, simply murmuring a small “yeah”.

You don’t sound confident at all in your answer and Carlos’ eyes are dropping to your lips. You didn’t regret what had happened. More than anything, a part of you regretted stopping it.

“Hm? Tell me then, what do you regret? Sitting on my lap? Letting me run my hands on your pretty thighs?” Carlos asks and his voice is so low that you feel his words go straight to your core and your whole body is starting to feel like it was on fire. He knew what he was doing. Because frankly, if anybody knew you it was Carlos.

He takes this opportunity to come even closer, leaning to your ear and his breath is hot against your skin. “Could you feel me under you?” Carlos asks and you can feel his lips brush your lobe as he smirks at the sound of your breath hitching. 

Carlos takes this moment to trail kisses down your neck, your lack of answer giving him enough confidence to go for it. Despite his strong words his kisses are gentle and you can’t help but shut your eyes and let out a soft breath at how warm and wet his mouth felt on your skin. 

“I’m not hearing you say it,” Carlos murmurs as his teeth gently graze your skin. “Do you regret it or not princess? I need an answer.” Carlos asks demandingly and you hate how his words are affecting you. 

“No I don’t regret it,” You murmur and you feel Carlos smirk against your skin, that bastard. 

Before you know it his lips are on yours and no matter how hard you told yourself not to kiss back you couldn’t. Your arms are wrapping around his neck and the kisses are feverish and needy and god you had missed his lips. 

You can feel his hands roaming around, going from your sides to your waist and he’s then leaning a bit down, grabbing the back of your thighs. It’s quick and easy and your legs instantly  wrap around his waist as he presses your back against the wall. 

You’re almost light headed by the time you pull away from kissing him, and you’re both a bit breathless. You swipe your tongue over your bottom lip and you look at Carlos to find him looking almost as gone as you felt.

“Fuck,” Carlos says, shifting his grip on you as you move your arms from his neck, cupping his cheeks. He’s looking up at you with his big hazel eyes that you fell inlove with years ago and you feel stupid. You were definitely going to regret this because you definitely weren’t thinking with your head. 

“If we do this we’re only doing this once Carlos, I’m not leaving Bastien” You warn him and for a second you can see the glimpse of disappointment flash in Carlos’ eyes but it’s gone as soon as it comes. 

“Then we should make it worth it, no?” Carlos says already trailing kisses down your neck again. 

It’s wrong in every way possible but it isn’t stopping any of you as you both sneak into an empty meeting room. Carlos grabs a chair to press against the door, making sure it’s blocking the door handle and the sight of it has you remembering your teenage years with him. 

By the time he turns around you’re seated on the edge of the main desk, legs swinging as you watch him come closer. Carlos holds your knees for a second before pushing them apart to stand between your legs and his hand is soon going to your neck, pushing your head up to look at him. 

“I don’t care if you say I only have this one time. I’m gonna make sure you come back.” He says without a single bit of hesitance and he’s soon tugging at your shirt, getting you to lift your arms up. He throws your shirt to the side, not concerned at all about it before he’s kissing over your collarbones and you’re letting out a shaky breath, fingers threading in his hair. 

“Carlos no marks,” You say but this seems to do the polar opposite as you feel his teeth graze your skin once more. This time he’s taking his time, sucking at your skin and pressing his tongue flat against it before looking over it with a sense of pride. “Fuck, Carlos.” You breathe out, letting out a moan when Carlos moves to the most sensitive part of your neck, making sure to leave the darkest mark there. 

You can tell that he loves the way you’re body is reacting to him. The way he can tell that he still knows you so well, probably still knows you best. “Still the same hm?” Carlos asks and you’re letting out a shaky breath as you tell yourself to tell Carlos to stop marking you up. You don’t though. 

“Piss off,” You murmur as Carlos continues kissing down and this time over your chest. He goes to remove your bra but you stop him. 

Carlos rolls his eyes, moving his hands away as he comes up to give you another kiss. He pulls away and he rubs his thumb over the already forming marks he had left behind. “I couldn’t help myself,” he says, pressing into one of them and you can’t help but wince. “It’s your fault your little boyfriend didn’t leave anything. You were with him for two weeks. If you were mine I’d make sure everyone knows.” Carlos says before he’s slowly helping you undo your pants. 

“Well, if you wanted me to be yours you shouldn’t have broken up with me then,” You say snarkily as you kick off your shoes and Carlos is pushing you to lay onto the desk and you easily follow his movements, soon getting your pants off as you stare at the ceiling. The desk feels cold and hard against your body which only makes every touch Carlos leaves behind burn hotter against your skin. 

“You want to be a smartass now?” Carlos asks and his fingers are toying with the lace of your panties, soon hooking his fingers to give them a snap. “I can stop.” He challenges, and even though you know he won’t you’re not willing to risk it. 

“Don’t stop.” You say and you can hear Carlos’ cocky chuckle. 

“Come on, have you forgotten your manners?” He asks as his fingers hook under the side of your panties again. He doesn’t pull them down though, waiting for you to say something and you can’t help but lift your hips hoping that it would encourage him. 

“Y/n, what do you say when you want something?” Carlos asks and you can hear the smirk he was practically wearing and you grit your teeth. 

“Please don’t stop.” You finally say, the heat in your core being too much for you. 

“Good girl,” Carlos says and you hate how your heart practically leaps at the praise. He’s soon pulling your panties off, grabbing you by your ankles so you’re suddenly at the edge of the table. You groan at the sudden movement and you’re pushing yourself up on your arms, about to tell Carlos off when you feel him suddenly kiss you on the inside of your thighs. 

Your eyes travel to where Carlos now is, kneeling in front of you with his arms on your legs to keep them open and the sight has you blushing. Carlos is so focused, trailing kisses and soon leaving even more marks into your skin that has you letting out small hisses. 

“I’m going to ruin you ,” Carlos whispers against your skin that is soon sending a shiver down your spine. Before you know it he’s getting closer to where you want him most, and it’s embarrassing how you arch your back. 

“You’re so wet darling,” He says as his index finger goes to rub one of your folds. You hate how smug he sounds but you can’t help the way you clench around nothing, already anticipating Carlos to do something. 

“Carlos fucking do something.” You say, hands already itching to touch yourself but Carlos moves your hands away.

“Now, did we forget the magic words again?” Carlos asks as he uses his other finger to continue teasing you. He’s still rubbing at your lips, using his fingers to pull them apart slightly and to give a light blow. “Seems like nobody’s made you beg in a while.”

The way you whimper has him grinning. “Please,” You mumble, fists balled up as you felt yourself only getting wetter. 

“Louder darling. Don’t be shy.” Carlos says and you can’t help but curse. 

“Please Carlos,” You say again. You let out a soft moan as soon as his fingers sink in and for a second you feel a wave of relief but the moment you feel his mouth on you you’re cursing, hand going to his hair to shamelessly pull him closer.

“Fuck,” You breath out and Carlos is relentless, pumping his fingers quickly as his tongue is toying with your clit. Your mind is spinning and you can’t help but to press your body closer to him, letting out a string of moans and whimpers. He only seems to take this as encouragement.

“Carlos,” you moan out, unapologetically loud and Carlos is suddenly getting rougher and you’re sure your grip on his hair is becoming tighter. 

It takes all your will to not scream when your orgasm washes over you, and for a second you feel like you’re seeing stars. Your arm goes to cover your own mouth as you let out a cry, and the way Carlos grips onto your thigh with his free hand just lets you know that he’s definitely going to leave a mark. 

You’re panting, leaning onto your arms as you watch Carlos slowly get up on his feet. The sight of him has your legs twitching because he’s licking his fingers before he’s swiping his tongue over his lips. You’re a bit out of it, and if you were being honest, you do not remember the last time someone had made you feel that way. 

You only snap back into it when Carlos holds your neck again and he gives your throat a squeeze. The dazed look you give him as him smirking.

This time he presses his thumb against the tip of your chin, soon pressing down to get you to open your mouth. You’re pliant under him, body still floating and mind still hazed from your orgasm that you’re not giving him back snarky remarks.

As soon as your lips part Carlos is pressing his thumb into your mouth and you instinctively wrap your lips around it, circling your tongue around the pad. You’re looking him straight in the eyes and Carlos is staring down at you with dark and hungry eyes, refusing to break eye contact. 

“You’re such a fucking whore,” Carlos says as he drags his thumb over your bottom lip. You part your lips again, looking up at Carlos and he’s soon leaning above you. “I let you finish once and you’re suddenly all quiet hm? I bet you’d let me do anything.” Carlos says and he grips the side of your cheeks, making sure your mouth stays open before he’s landing a ball of spit in your mouth. 

“I love it when a bitch knows her place.” The moan you let out is embarrassing but you don’t care because Carlos is already kissing you again, and this time he’s undoing his belt and his pants, simply letting them fall around his ankles with his boxers. 

“Mierda,” Carlos curses because you don’t even think twice before your hand is already wrapped around him, the feeling of your skin dragging against him making him already twitch in your hand. 

“I forgot how big you are,” You say, using your thumb to spread his precum over the tip before you’re using it to pump him. You almost feel bad with how hard he is and you slowly move off the desk. Carlos takes a slow step back, groaning as soon as you go on your knees in front of him. 

Soon his hand is holding the back of your head as you’re taking him in his mouth and he’s letting out small groans and praises. “You’re doing so- fuck- so good darling,” He’s panting out and the way you look up at him has his cock twitching in your mouth. His hips instinctively buckle and he’s soon hitting the back of your throat and you splutter a bit, tears beginning to collect in your eyes. Instead of pulling away though you relax your throat and Carlos takes this as a sign. He’s gripping the back of your head tightly and snapping his hips moaning at the sound of him fucking your mouth. It’s messy, and rough, but despite tears streaming down your cheeks the small moans and gasps you’re letting out are spurring him on further. 

“Fuck,” Carlos groans, you’re sure he’s about to come with the way his thrusts are getting sporadic and you try to tighten your throat around him but he stops you by gripping your hair so tight that you let out a broken cry. It’s loud and the pain is too much and this seems to snap Carlos out of whatever trance he was in. He apologises quickly, soon pulling out of your mouth and crouching down. “Sorry- fuck- I didn’t want to finish off that way.” Carlos is panting and his eyes are searching yours for confirmation that you were okay. You give him a small nod, not trusting your voice with how raw your throat felt. Soon he’s helping you up and sitting on the table and the sudden tension from before is gone, instead his touches feel gentle. 

“You’re good?” He double checks and you nod, his hands are cupping your cheeks again before he’s giving you a kiss. It’s soft and it’s sweet and it has your mind spinning even more. 

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry.” Carlos says just in case before he’s rubbing your sides. “Is it okay if we continue?” Carlos asks. 

“Yeah,” You murmur, wincing at how hoarse your throat sounded. Carlos nods and his hands go over your thighs before giving them a gentle squeeze. 

“Tell me if you need me to stop.” Carlos says before pulling you closer again. He keeps one hand on your thigh to keep you steady as he lines himself up. Unlike before this is slow and Carlos is taking his time and there’s a weird tug at your heart. 

“Fuck,” You breathe out when Carlos finally presses in. Despite him having stretched you out he still felt so big. Your arms shake a little and you whimper when Carlos uses his arm to pull you closer to him as he pushes deeper as well. 

“You’re so fucking tight y/n.” Carlos breathes out and he’s bottoming out and you feel so full you might pass out. “You need to relax or I’m not going to last.” Carlos says and he’s looking at you so intently, eyes going over every single feature on your face. He’s leaning down to give you a kiss and you can’t help but meet him halfway. 

The kiss is softer than any other kiss you both shared before and you feel like you’re melting into him. “You’re so beautiful y/n.” Carlos whispers against your lips, as if it was a secret for the both of you. 

Once you’re relaxed enough you feel him moving his hips but his lips are still close to yours, stealing kisses every here and there as he slowly begins to pick up his thrusts. Despite this though the thrusts are still slow and dragged out, but he’s rubbing into you just right that you’re letting out soft breathy moans that are mixing in the air along with Carlos’. 

The atmosphere is heavy and there’s a weird weight in your chest as you watch Carlos, head falling back as soon he hits the right spot. “Carlos there please,” You whimper out and that’s enough encouragement for Carlos to finally pick up the pace. 

“Tell me who fucks you best?” Carlos asks, and his hand is wrapping itself again around your neck and you’re letting out a small but broken whine. “Stop fucking you for two years and you’ve gone all soft now hm?”

You can’t think straight, all of Carlos’ words are turning into gibberish in your mind. You only manage to snap back into it when Carlos gives your throat a gentle squeeze.

“I said, who fucks you best?” He asks again and you blink at him, completely dazed.

“Y-You,” You moan out.

Before you know it you’re whimpering and squirming under him, feeling yourself get closer and closer. At this point your arms are around his neck and he takes the opportunity to lift you up slightly, thrusting his hips as he holds you in place.

The room filling with the sounds of both of your moans and the sound of your skin slapping against each other, both of you either forgetting or no longer caring that you were still in the office. 

“Carlos- Carlos- I’m close.” You gasp out and Carlos shifts a bit, letting go of your neck before his fingers go down, toying with your clit and you can’t help but let out a cry, back arching. 

“Don’t come until I tell you to.” He pants out as his thrusts pick up even faster and somehow feel even deeper and you’re letting out a string of moans. His fingers soon move faster and you’re soon begging for him to let you come. 

It’s only when you’re blubbering nonsense that Carlos is saying “Come for me, show me how good I make you feel.” as his touches get rougher and that’s enough to have you unravelling yourself again, screaming out his name as your nails dig into his shoulders. 

You’re still riding out your high when Carlos groans, cock twitching in between thrusts. You can’t help but let out a groan at the feeling of Carlos coming inside of you and Carlos drags his hips a few more times before he’s gently setting you onto the table and pulling out of you. He keeps you close though, wrapping his arms around you as you both recollect yourselves.

You’re both panting, breathless and exhausted and you’re almost putty as Carlos takes off his shirt to wipe at your legs and body. He catches you from falling onto your back and you hold onto him, still slightly dazed.

“I can’t believe we did that.” You murmur out, and you’re embarassed at how little you could think right now. Carlos is shaking his head in disbelief too. 

“Me neither.” Carlos says. He’s holding his shirt awkwardly for a bit, and it’s clear that he’s thinking about something but he just doesn’t want to say it. It takes you a bit to notice.

“Spit it out,” you tell him, knowing him well enough already. 

He lets out a sigh before he’s speaking up. “You’re gonna hate me but I’m gonna need you to go get my extra clothes in the changing rooms.” He says and you can only look at him in disbelief. 

“What? Did you want me to use your shirt?” Carlos says and you know you’re practically useless right now but the little pride you had left didn’t want Carlos to know how out of it you were (although you’re pretty sure he knew). If any confirmation was needed, your legs almost buckle the moment your feet hit the ground and Carlos needs to quickly catch you. He’s grinning from ear to ear.

If Carlos was trying to hide his smugness, he was doing a damn awful job doing so. 

—————— 

Carlos ended up getting the shirt that he needed himself as you just sat in the meeting room to get some time to recover. You both are relieved that the office is almost empty and you both manage to sneak out undetected, the tension is heavy between you both though, to the point that you don’t even realise Tom in the parking lot, up until you both reach Carlos’ car. 

“What are you two doing here?” He’s by his car holding his own bag, clearly ready to go home. You take a deep breath, ready to play it cool before turning to Tom.

“Uhm-“ Carlos starts off but he’s looking at you in panic and you try your best not to kick him then and there. 

“Carlos offered to drop me off so he decided to go to the gym when he was waiting and I ended up having to wait for him.” You explain giving Tom a shrug. You felt bad for lying- but this was definitely not the moment to be saying the truth. 

Tom looks a bit sceptical, mainly eyeing Carlos’ deer in the headlights expression but he soon nods anyway. “Ah okay- I’ll see you both at the airport then?” He asks and you’re both nodding, ready to cut the conversation short. 

Once Tom is in the car you both go into Carlos’. You tiredly watch Carlos put on his seatbelt just as Tom drives off and you think Carlos is going to start the car but decides to speak up instead. 

“For the record, I didn’t want to break up with you.” Carlos says and you’re quick to tense up. 

“Carlos, I thought we were over this.” You murmur and Carlos shakes his head. You rub your temples, a bit frustrated. 

“You still did it though.” You say and your stomach is twisting and turning at the conversation, you didn’t want to hear what Carlos had to say. “You literally came over, slept with me, and broke up with me the next morning.” 

“You said we were fine when I broke it off.” Carlos says and for a second he sounds offended, and you can’t help but scoff. 

“Of course I did Carlos. What else was I supposed to do?” You say and you’re looking away to look outside of the window. You had never told anyone how Carlos and you had broken up, always being the type to hold your head up and suck it up. He was the only person you had been able to open up to and the moment he had broken up with you you felt like you were left alone by yourself. 

“I couldn’t tell you Carlos. I felt like I didn’t know who you were.” You murmur. He’s slowly reaching his hand to your thigh but you move your leg away. “Stop,” 

“I’m sorry,” He says and it sounds so sincere that you can’t even look at him. “I’m really sorry.” 

“I was young and naive, I knew it was wrong, but I wasn’t thinking.” He explains. “We were barely talking at the end, I was so busy with racing, and you were studying, and I- I also didn’t want to burden you. When I came over that night I wanted to break it off right there but I couldn’t,” Carlos sighs shakily and you can hear the regret in his voice. 

“It’s selfish but I just wanted one more night with you.” Carlos mumbles. “I loved you. Even now y/n, I,” He says before taking a deep breath. For a second you want him to say it, you want to hear the words, but you realise you’re not ready for that again. You don’t want to give him another opportunity to break your heart when it already took you so much time to rebuild it. 

“Don’t,” You murmur. “Please don’t say it Carlos. I don’t want to hear it. I can’t hear it.” You say and you’re looking up to the car’s ceiling, feeling your eyes water slightly. 

“What do you want then?” Carlos murmurs and you let out a shaky sigh finally looking over him. He looks remorseful, and you know his words are sincere- but they weren’t enough.

“I told you before, I want to stay with Bastien.” You murmur. “I know it might sound stupid to you but- I will try to figure it out with him.” 

“And us?” Carlos asks and you shake your head. 

“We can���t be friends Carlos. I thought we could, but we can’t. Look at what we just did. I don’t blame Bastien for not being comfortable with you around me, I’m not going to argue with him about that.” You say apologetically. The disappointment in Carlos’ face is clear as daylight but he nods anyway. 

“Why did you do it then?” Why did you sleep with me? You know is what he means to say. 

“I needed closure.” You murmur and that answer seems to be sufficient because Carlos finally nods, starting the car. 

The drive is quiet this time and your head is pressed against the window as you watch the streets pass by. You don’t feel guilty, but you realise you weren’t feeling anything right now. 

You only speak up when Carlos is pulling into the gates of your building and you’re pointing to the empty parking space. “Do you mind coming up?” You ask softly, “I have to give back your shirt.” You say and Carlos doesn’t even look at you as he nods and slowly reverses the car. 

The silence is loud as you both make your way to the building and up the elevator. You don’t have much to say as you both walk to your apartment door. Carlos steps in behind you, quietly closing the door and you excuse yourself before going to your bedroom, looking for the shirt in your half unpacked luggage. 

You’re digging through the luggage when you hear your phone ring and you go quickly to check it, the moment you see the text you laugh. 

It’s not the first time that this has happened. That you get a text from a random girl, along with an apology and explaining that she spent a night (or multiple) with Bastien before finding out he had a girlfriend. 

Bastien never told you- and you never confronted him. Call it naïve but a part of you thought that Bastien would stop, but by the fourth person- you really doubted that was going to happen. You just sat down and stayed quiet though because for the most part, he made you happy. 

If you were being honest, you just didn’t want to be left again. 

You were not even mad now. You just felt stupid that you were letting yourself be in this situation. But looking at yourself now, were you really any better?  

The moment you grab Carlos’ shirt though you feel your heart in your throat and you’re clenching your jaw. You force yourself to calm down before you’re getting up, reminding yourself that Carlos was in the livingroom. You could respond to the girl afterwards. 

When you come back Carlos is by one of your shelves looking over the photos that you have perched up. You realise he’s looking at some of your old highschool photos with your friends, and you know that he’s slipped there in the picture somewhere. You soon see his gaze travel to a photo of you and Bastien though and his face falls a bit. 

“Hey,” You say softly, which prompts him to turn around. His eyes fall from your face to your hand where you’re holding his shirt. 

“Here,” You’re stepping towards him, holding your hand out. Carlos gives you a small tight lipped smile as he takes the shirt from you and he looks over you quietly. 

“Does he make you happy at least?” He asks and you look at him, surprised that he’d ask you that question. “Regardless to us and what we are- just make sure he makes you happy.” Carlos says and you give him a small nod. 

“There’s a few things we need to work on, but he makes me happy. I believe it will work out.” You’re lying through your teeth, but Carlos nods at your words anyways. 

“I’ll see you in the airport?” You’re gently getting him to the door, not knowing how much longer you could keep yourself composed for. 

“Mhm, are you sure you don’t want a ride there?” Carlos tries and you give him a forced smile before politely declining the offer. 

“I’m good, thank you though Carlos.” There’s a a weird hole in your chest but you try not to think about it too much, opening the door for Carlos.

“Alright, alright. Bye Y/N.” He says as he steps out of your apartment. You give him a small nod and a wave. 

“Bye Carlos.” You say and the moment you shut the door you’re letting out a shaky breath, going to the bathroom in hopes to wash everything away.

fin.

Link to chapter 9!

i hope you all enjoyed! put my whole heart in it. would love to know what you guys think and how you feel about it. are you surprised that reader knew all along about bastien??? i also hope it provides a bit more insight about how reader is feeling/thinking. and apologies for all the angst !! feel like this chapter is bittersweet hehe.

ps. this is my first time writing smut and posting (for f1 at least) so I sincerely apologize if it isnt giving 🫠

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[hobaworld7]

KNJ - Teach me

pairing : reader x namjoon / student!reader x teacher!namjoon / bestfriend taehyung, maybe he's in love with the reader, he doesn't know yet -and either do i lol-

genre : forbidden relationship, teacher and uni student relationship, all consensual, both adult, really a slowburn, this chapter doesn't have any smut i'm just constructing their relationship

word count : 1880 words

warning : don't hookup with your teacher plz, this is just fiction, just don't do it okay AHHAHA

summary : NamJoon is a new teacher and you are the student president. He notices you after being late a few times in a month and he's trying to get your attention. You both feel an attraction but this is forbidden so you try to forget about it.

a/n : i could write a whole book just with the inspiration that turtleneck-namjoon is giving me. enjoy army. okay i'm lowkey really proud about where this story is going. it will have more then one part.

disclaimer : pictures from pinterest / namjoon isn't mine / just an imagine

**IN REVIEW/REWRITING**

_ _ _

It was the third time you were late this month for Mr.Kim morning english's class. You were never late, it never happen. Except that you just moved on the other side of the city and the buses were unpredictable in traffic hour in Seoul. You were attending one of the most famous high school in Seoul so even if you were to move in another country you would still attend here, it was an amazing school.

You knock two times and readjust your skirt before opening the door. You bowed at your teacher saying sorry a thousand time. ''Go to your place Miss Y/L/N, and stay after class.'' Said the english teacher, Mr.Kim,

''Yeah Mr.Kim.'' You sat in the front row, in your usual seat. You were a student president. You were always attending different meeting for the student life and teacher always loves you. But something told you that Mr.Kim was getting pretty bothered with your delays.

***

The last student left the class and you got up your chair, slowly gathering all your things in your bag. Mr.Kim approach your desk and sat on it. ''Can you explain yourself Y/N? It's the, what, third time this month?'' He wasn't mad, he was just worried because even if he has been a teacher here for a few months only, it wasn't in your habits to be late.

''Yeah, I'm sorry, I just moved to a new house but it's on the opposite side of Seoul. The buses are always crazy in the morning but it won't happen again, I promise.'' He put his hand on your shoulder and look at you in your eyes. ''I hope so, you are supposed to be a model for other students. If it happens again I'll have to give you detention. It won't look good for a student president.''

''Thank you for your understanding Mr.Kim!'' You bowed and left the class. You sigh and grab your bag tighter, hoping that he didn't see your shivers when he touched you. It was his first year teaching at your school, maybe it wasn't sure about the rules but in no way student and teacher should have physical interaction, even just a hand on a shoulder.

***

Today, you arrived an hour early at school. It was the only way, taking the earliest bus, to not be late. You grabbed breakfast from a convenience store and sat in Mr.Kim class. You ate your breakfast and finished some homework. You were so tired, this week has been crazy and you were so stressed out about all the assignment you got in the past few days. You decided to rest your eyes a bit and take a quick nap on your desk before the student arrive. You set up an alarm on your cellphone to be sure to be awake for the class. You were deeply asleep when NamJoon enter the class, the light were still off, only the sun shining trough the window was lightning up the room. He let out a little laugh, seeing you asleep on your desk. It was pretty aware about the rules of this school, it was more strict than every other places he applied. Still, he couldn't stop himself to gently remove the strand of hair that fell over your eyes. You squint your eyes and mumble something in your sleep. NamJoon let out a little chuckled and went to sit at his desk after opening the light. Student will start soon to arrive. You alarm clock went on and you quickly turn it off. You yawned and arrange quickly your hair when you saw your best friend, Taehyung, enters the room. He laugh at your sleepy face and sit near you.''You look horrible, are you okay?''

''I didn't, you yawned again, i didn't want to be late, had to get up at 4am.'' A big sight left your lips and you look at him with puppy eyes. He patted gently your head and hands you his coffee. ''Here, you need it more than me.''

You laugh and take the iced americano out of his hand and take a sip. ''Taste amazing, thank you tae tae, you're really the best.''

You smile at him and take your book out of your bag. You look up to see the professor looking at you. Just a straight up kinda angry look. You blushed and put your hand over your face as you look toward your friend. You cross your leg, make sure your skirt is covering your tights and continue talking with your friend.

When the students hear NamJoon clearing his throat to get attention, they go silent. The lesson goes well , Mr.Kim gave to the class a surprise exam to test their knowledges and it ended a little earlier than usual.

At the end of the class, he say good bye to every students that were leaving. As you were gathering your books and pens, he turn over to face you. ''Miss Y/L/N, could you stay behind. I have something to ask you as the student president.""

Accepting to stay behind, you look at your friends leaving to Taehyung's place to get ready for tonight's party. ''I'll see you tonight Y/N!'' One of your friend say, before leaving to our other classes. English was one of the only class were all of your friends were together.

Your best friend gently tapped your head before heading out. When the class was empty, once again, you get near the teacher's desk. ''Miss Y/L/N, I would need help for the correction of that test you just did, the other professors told me I could ask you, would you mind staying today after school to start this correction task?''

You sighed and push you hair behind your ears. You will unfortunately be late to the party tonight. Unable to say no, you accept this task, as if you weren't already overbooked with all your responsibilities. ''Mh, no, I don't mind. I can be here around 4pm after school, is it okay with you?''

''Perfect, you can go, thank you.'' You swear you could have seen him wink before you turned around. You grab your things and went to your next class, you cheeks completely blushing.

***

The day went well and fast. You friends were a little sad about the fact that you'll be late to tonight's party but school always come first. ''At least the teacher's hot!'' Your friend said, laughing with Jimin and Taehyung. ''She will be completely entertained by just the way his button up fit his muscly arms.'' Jimin added.

They all laugh and your cheek are burning as the assumptions about your after-class session with the hottest teacher on campus will go. You quickly leave the table, mumbling something about seeing them later if you are not too tired. You enter the class, just in time, it was 3;59. ''Hello Mr.Kim.''

''Hello Y/N, how was your day? Not too tired?'' You bowed as a respect sign and answer him. ''No it's alright. I'm glad I can help you with correction.''

''Perfect, you can grab a chair and come here, I'll go over you copy with you so you know how I excepted you to correct and review your classmate's exams.'' Once your bag is on the desk and that you have your pencil case in hands, you grab the nearest chair. You put it just in front of the desk but then the teacher look up at you.

''Come here, he show you the free space next to him, it will be easier to see what I'm doing.'' You shyly grab the chair again and put it next to his. He smiles and open the drawer next to him, taking your copy out first. He slowly went over every questions and without surprise you got no error.

''You did a great job Y/N, I wish I had more student like you. You can go over there, he point the end of the desk, and start correcting, I'll be here if you have question.'' You start correcting, sheet after sheet. Your class was really bad at this, most of them failed it. You were half way through when Mr.Kim interrupted you.

''I'll go grab something to drink, do you want something?'' You denied his offer and look down to the next sheet. ''No thanks Mr.Kim''

''You can call me NamJoon when we are just both of us. No need to be too formel, I'm only, what, like 5 years older than you?'' He let out a little laugh.

He laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound you ever heard. You shyly put your hair behind your ears and bowed your head. ''Perfect I will, Mr- hum, NamJoon.''

He smiles and taps your shoulder gently before heading out. You take the opportunity to update Taehyung about how much time you have left. You continue correcting the exams and NamJoon comes back from his break. ''Anything planned tonight Y/N?''

''Hum, yes, I do actually. Why?'' You look up at him and it was actually the first time tonight that you took the time to examine his feature. He was actually really pretty for a teacher. Most of them being old and disgraceful. But him? He was the complete opposite. He was always so kind and gentle with every students, understandings their needs. He had a soft and comforting voice. His black hair were always a little messy and fall a bit on his neck. And what could you say about his charming hazelnut eyes. ''Just making conversation, don't worry. Do you wanna leave early? You can finish it Monday.''

''No, it's okay, I'm almost done with the first half. It won't be long for the other half, but thanks!'' The rest of the correction went well. You were trying not to look up at NamJoon because most of the time you could feel his burning eyes on you. Only knowing he was looking at you with those eyes made you blush.

An hour has passed now and you were finally done. ''NamJoon? I'm done with the correction, do I need to enter the grades somewhere before going? ''

''No, it's fine, I'll do it! Go enjoy your Friday night. See you on Monday!'' You thanked him and left to get change in the nearest bathroom. It was a farewell party to one of your friend so you brought a black dress with some puffy sleeves to be yet cute but chic too. Before leaving the school, you look in your purse for you cellphone and realize you forget it in NamJoon's classroom. You hated yourself for it and hoping he was already gone. You didn't want to much people to see you like this and specifically the teacher that made you feel hot and shy every days. You really needed your phone so you went back to the class. Gently knocking on the door when you realize the lights were still on.

''Mr.Kim, hum, NamJoon? I think I forgot my phone here? Is it on the desk?'' He was busy entering the grade on his computer, but when he heard your gentle voice he lift his head to look at you. You were looking amazing in that dress and it had clearly some effect on him.

''Yeah actually, you left it on the desk. You should be more careful miss.'' He opens his drawer and grab your phone. He hold out his hand, the phone in his hand. You walk towards him and take the cellphone. You thanked him and bowed at him. You walk back, slightly pushing your dress down, when you were walking it was always going up a bit.

He called your name and you turn around. He was looking up and down at you. ''You look really pretty tonight. Enjoy your night and be careful. Don't drink too much ok?''

''Thank you professor, I won't drink too much!'' You left his classroom and open your phone to see that he wrote his number onthe back of your phone, on a little purple piece of paper.

''if you ever need something you can call me, xxx-xxx-xxxx knj''

You called your friend to let him know you were coming and grab a taxi to your destination. ''Stay calm Y/N, he is your teacher. It can't be happening.'' You mumbled to yourself. He just want to be sure that his students are safe. Nothing more than that. But still you could feel that attraction when you were near him.

Little did you know that the professor was in the same state as you. Completely submerged by your presence, he had to keep his calm all night because you were in front of him. He was too feeling the attraction between him and you.

_ _ _

Next part is coming soon, thank you for reading!

CLICK HERE FOR THE SECOND PART :

___

If you want to read more, here is the link of my masterlist : https://www.tumblr.com/kimtaehyung-taetae-writing/710423978560421888/masterlist?source=share

thank you army!

[aphrodite-made-me-write-it]

Habits - Part 1

(A/N) oh hey, it’s the comeback (cumback?) fic i didn’t intend to be the comeback fic. i really did want to update stuff and post this other yelena fic i have that’s actually cute and has a real plot to it but instead i read Come Back To Me by reminiscingtonight and it was just so goshdarn good that it got me to write this garbage instead! her fic is extremely good and it has 3 parts to it!!! hotdamn!!! i read it at work and it made me happy. anyway, hi! i had to cut this into two parts! expect inconsistency! i’m back to a 6-7 day work schedule with the holidays but i do have something kinda planned for december! ok enough rambling! let’s do this!

Rating: E (literal p0rn without much plot) 18+ Only!

Warnings: fuckboy!yelena (lowkey tho lmfao); protectiveAF!natasha; hella smut; ye olde ‘best friend’s sibling’ trope; nat and yelena are only 2 years apart in this bc it makes me feel better abt age gaps and ill be honest math is not my strongsuit; yelena basically fucks ur brains out idk what else to say; oh, also, reader’s parents r shitty and manipulative; mentions of past abuse, but super brief; really the parents dont pay too much of a role in this half

Pairing: Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader; Natasha x Fem!Best Friend!Reader; Natasha x Wanda Maximoff (i love redheads)

Chapter Word Count: 7.2k

Total Word Count: 30.1k

Synopsis: It’s been a few years since you last saw your childhood best friend, Natasha, and her little sister, Yelena. Transferring colleges leads to you needing a roommate, and that roommate just so happens to be Natasha. Not much has changed between you, you’re still thick as thieves. Her sister, however, is a completely different story.

| Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |

gif source

 Russian Translations: Malyshka - babygirl; Milaya - darling; Dorogoy - sweetheart |

You’ve known Natasha Romanoff for, practically, your entire lives. Your friendship was sealed the day she pushed Jason Grey off of the swingset for calling you ugly in the first grade. You were basically inseparable after that. 

Yelena is adopted when you and Natasha are nine, and she is seven. Melina and Alexei had adopted Natasha before leaving Russia, and were apparently keen on adopting the little toddler young Natasha couldn’t stand to leave behind. It took a few years for the paperwork to go through, and the payoff, it seemed, was worth it. The second they’re reunited, Yelena and Natasha are sisters without a doubt. It may not have been by blood, but that didn’t matter.

Of course, Yelena is also adopted into your friendship with the redhead soon after. Yelena was curious while she adjusted to her new life, always inquisitive and asking questions. Eventually, her curiosity turned into complete headstrong foolishness. Sneaking home lizards and the like. 

You didn’t mind, though. 

In all honesty, you preferred their house to your own.

Your dad was a very busy person, and your mom wasn’t the best company. She was a perfectionist, through and through, and often expected the same from you. The pressure was really put on you when you started middle school. You needed the best grades, the highest place in whatever after school activities you chose. It was grating, exhausting, and their fights that rode late into the night never helped things.

Still, Yelena and Natasha were your distraction from it all. The more pleasant side of life, the side you couldn’t stand leaving.

Until, of course, you had to.

You’re fifteen when it happens, the threat of it. The word felt so ugly and obscene at the time. Divorce. You spent hours in Natasha’s room crying, both sisters helplessly holding you until you ran out of tears. 

That Christmas, your mother actually left until February. That was when your father really began to spiral. He lost his job. He started drinking. He started yelling at you. Started hitting you. You could have told someone - you should have. You only told Natasha and Yelena, though, forcing them to swear to never tell a soul. It was stupid of you, really.

You’re weeks away from sixteen when the shoe finally drops.

He hits your mom. She grabs you, and you’re driving out of town before you can even process it. The image of Natasha and Yelena following your mother’s car has, naturally, haunted you every waking moment since it happened. Your mom was always very anti-social-anything. No cellphones, no email, nothing. Contact with your best friends was hopeless. Gut-wrenchingly hopeless.

You’re grown-up, now. At least, on paper. The rest of high school was spent all the way in New York City, and you didn’t make many friends. You dated a few people here and there, but mostly you focused on your schoolwork the way your mother demanded you to. It became a saving grace, the idea of getting somewhere far away from her.

You don’t get far for long, though. Your first two years are spent at a college you can go to from home. You hate every second of it, and it takes a long while to convince her to let you transfer to another school where you won’t have to be watched like a hawk.

That leads you, at last, to Temple University. Philadelphia. Sure, it’s just a few hours’ drive away but that distance is fucking gold to you. You had originally searched for a roommate through a variety of social medias, looking for friends of friends you could possibly bunk up with - and that, miraculously, lead you back to Natasha.

The reunion is the happiest you’ve felt in so long, you cry. You spend hours catching up among the unpacked boxes, when Yelena is brought up.

“She’s coming a week after me. I transferred from Ohio State, and she’ll be a freshman. God, she’s gonna be thrilled to see you. She spent, like, months crying over you when you left.” 

You snort. “What, and you didn’t?”

“How could I when she was inconsolable?” Natasha scoffs. “It did suck, though. We missed you. I missed you.” She squeezes your hand tightly. “And now we can finally get drunk together like we planned for your sweet sixteen.”

“I didn’t get a drop of alcohol until I got to college,” you gripe. “Mom became like, the grade demon of my worst nightmares.”

“Your dad still lives there. Why didn’t you visit?”

“Yeah, joint custody didn’t last long.” You cringe. “He, uh, got one supervised visit with me in New York and sort of strangled me.”

“Dude, what the fuck?”

“It’s chill, now,” you lean back against the sofa, the only piece of furniture in your living room that’s accessible. “I mean, it’s whatever. He’s a deadbeat, anyways.”

And for the next handful of days, you and Natasha become as close as you had been before you left. Some bonds just transcend years like that, and you’re glad it was this way for you and Natasha.

The week before school leads to Natasha wanting to throw a party to celebrate. You aren’t surprised she’s already made friends here - she’s always been the more social type - but she seems very giddy when she explains her reasoning.

“Does this have to do with that Sokovian chick?” You ask when Natasha finishes cleaning the place for the millionth time since she’d woken up this morning. (Which, by the way, was six o’clock, because Natasha is fucking insane.) “Wendy?”

She glares at you from over her shoulder. “Wanda,” she corrects. “And, no.” 

You laugh at the flush on her cheeks. “So if she shows up to the party I should tell her it’s invite-only?”

“No! Don’t be an asshole!” Natasha whines, throwing the paper towel she’d been using to wipe the bookshelf. It’s not even dirty, but you smack it away with a squeal. “And, by the way, there’s another surprise guest coming, but it’s a secret.”

“Ooh, my favorite actress wrapped in a nice little bow for me?” You ask with a dramatic fluttering of your eyelashes.

“Don’t be gross.” Natasha scolds. “You’re worse than Yelena.”

“Little innocent Yelena?” You cackle, knowing full-well the blonde had been nothing short of troublesome and clever when you left. 

“I have it on good authority that she was being a fuckboy when I moved away.” Natasha tuts. “She was just waiting ‘til I left before she started fooling around with people. Typical.”

“Could it be that anyone interested in her was terrified of her big sister roasting them alive?” You inquire teasingly, tapping your chin as if you were truly considering what other options there could be.

“Very funny.” Natasha rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t ‘roast them alive’. They’d scream too much, I’d get caught immediately.”

The seriousness in her tone makes you laugh. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be caught dead or alive looking at your sister like that.”

She sticks her tongue out in response, quite childishly. You really, really missed her.

- - - - -

Okay, fine, surprise surprise, the girl with the strict mother is a lightweight. So what. 

You aren’t hammered, you’re more aware of yourself than that. You’re two drinks in, though, so you’re chattier than usual and a bit too bold. Natasha says you’re a riot when you’re drunk, so that’s something, at least.

You’d just disengaged yourself from a conversation with a guy named Steve - who was strangely old-fashioned but incredibly sweet - to get a drink when you slam into a body. Off-balanced from the rush of blood to your head, you’re lucky that the person steadies you with strong arms before you can fall flat on your face.

You look up at your savior and immediately lose all ability to speak and think and breathe. She’s got blonde hair and gorgeous green eyes, the smirk on her face smug as she watches the way you take in her muscular body. She’s damn hot, a ripped band t-shirt underneath a red flannel, cuffed jeans and combat boots - this is a woman who also likes women, which happens to be one of your favorite type of women.

“Don’t tell me you’re already wasted,” the Russian accent surprises you less than the husky richness of her voice. Oh fuck. She’s really hot. You should say something cool, probably.

“No, she’s just a fucking lightweight,” Natasha’s voice is a saving grace. You look at her with a desperate, silent plea. “(Y/N), meet our secret special guest: Yelena.”

Holy shit.

“Y-Yelena?” You stammer, stiff as a statue as the blonde hasn’t moved her hands from your waist yet. 

“Long time no see,” she grins.

You step away from her, hoping to clear your head a little. “Y-you, uh, you grew up.” She’s taller than you by a few inches, now. 

She chuckles. “I have,” she confirms, the amusement in her tone telling you that she hasn’t forgotten the way you’d eyed her like a piece of meat moments before.

Natasha looks between you for a moment, an unreadable expression on her face, before she jumps and looks down at her phone. “Wanda’s almost here. I’m gonna go meet her outside. Keep this one out of trouble,” she points at Yelena, who pouts at the accusation of being troublesome.

You make a whipping sound when Natasha walks away, joining Yelena in gut-twisting laughter when Natasha flips you off.

And then you’re alone.

With Yelena.

Out of things to talk about.

“D-d’you wanna drink?” It comes out rushed and awkward, because now that Yelena is looking at you again you feel extremely nervous. 

“Sure,” the blonde is smirking again. You’re starting to dread that smirk.

You lead her to the kitchen, fighting hard to keep your mind from going anywhere but the blonde behind you. What the fuck was WRONG with you? This was Yelena. Little Yelena, who Natasha had just said she’d kill people for and you have absolutely zero doubts in your mind that Natasha Romanoff could get away with murder.

You and Natasha had been reunited for little more than a month and you were thinking of her sister in ways you absolutely, totally, should not. 

It’s not until you’re in the kitchen that you remember it’s a closed off room, unique to the apartment complex, effectively trapping you with Yelena, without any other partygoers.

Shit.

“S-so, what’s your poison?” You ask, turning to the several bottles of liquor you and Natasha acquired for the party.

“I think I’ve already found it,” she’s way closer than you’d expected. She leans against the counter barely a foot away; close enough to be in your space, but not so close that you’re brushing skin. It’s still too close, you think. 

“Nat made sure we had that- that, uh, jet fuel you Russians call vodka.” You reach for the bottle with slightly shaking hands, amazed at how much she’s affected you by just being near you. You feel like a stupid, horny teenager and she literally only touched you once to keep you from falling over.

“I’m not talking about vodka.” Yelena steps forward and you suck in a sharp breath. She’s way too close now. “You know, I always had a bit of a thing for you, growing up.” She says it so casually, you actually don’t process the words at first. “When you left, it was my first real heartbreak.”

“Yelena-” you start, but she keeps talking:

“And just when I thought you were gone forever, Natasha tells me you’re her new roommate.” She licks her lips, and your stupid eyes can’t help tracing the motion. Her smirk widens. “I knew I couldn’t pass up the chance.”

“The chance to- to what, exactly?” You squeak, eyeing the door behind her. Is anyone going to come in here and save you? Do you want them to?

Yelena raises an eyebrow, cocking her head to the side. She’s leaning closer. You find yourself quite frozen, unable perhaps unwilling to move from your spot. “I saw the way you looked at me. You want this just as much as I do.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You lie. You’ve never been a good liar.

Yelena laughs. “Ha! You’re still a terrible liar.”

“And you’re a brat.” You mutter, and then she’s got you pinned to the counter, the edge digging uncomfortably into your back. Both of her palms rest on either side of you. You’re trapped. You’re definitely going to die here.

“Oh, am I?” She teases, amused as she leans in close enough for her breath to ghost your lips. “What does that make you, then?”

“Natasha’s best friend.” You put your hands on her shoulders, pushing lightly to keep the distance between you and hopefully encourage some more. “Who does not want to die a horrible, bloody death for having Natasha finding her pinned against a counter by her little sister.”

Yelena hums, a thoughtful sort of sound that’s very low in her throat. “Who cares about what Natasha thinks? I don’t.”

“You should.” You sound suddenly hoarse as Yelena’s eyes flicker down to your lips.

The front door opens. You push Yelena harder than you’d intended, but she doesn’t budge much. Holy fuck she’s strong. She moves aside though, chuckling lowly as you put a respectable distance between you.

Natasha bursts into the kitchen, Wanda Maximoff in tow while the pair giggle scandalously. Your best friend pauses, looking at you and then Yelena, apparently picking up on the tension that still remains.

“Oh, is this your girlfriend?” Yelena asks, successfully erasing whatever the fuck that was.

You’re in trouble.

You’re in deep, deep fucking trouble.

- - - - -

The next morning, you stumble into the kitchen sleepily. Wanda spent the night in Natasha’s room, but luckily you were out like a light the second you laid down. Yelena took up the couch with two of your four blankets - why Natasha couldn’t spare her own sister some blankets, you’re too frightened to ask - and the mass of blonde hair splayed over the armrest tells you she’s still sound asleep.

You breathe out a sigh of relief once you’ve made a cup of coffee, and it turns soft moan of appreciation when you take your first sip.

“Morning,” a voice startles you, making hot liquid spill over your fingers. You wince, setting the mug down as you turn to face the intruder. Your words get caught in your throat when your eyes find Yelena. Yelena who, apparently, slept in a sports bra and Natasha’s old sweatpants last night.

When your eyes move back to Yelena’s face, she’s wearing that stupid cocky smirk again.

“You know, for someone who denies eye-fucking me, you seem to do it an awful lot.” Yelena sneers. Your cheeks warm considerably. You take your mug and move to the kitchen table, too cowardly to duck out of the conversation and too afraid of her bringing it to the living room where Natasha most certainly could hear it.

“I’m not eye-fucking anybody,” you huff.

“That must be why you’re the color of a tomato.”

“Fuck you.”

“Oh,” her smirk widens, “is that an offer?”

You scoff. “Holy shit, you really are impossible.”

“Maybe you should just admit the truth to yourself.” She begins making her own cup of coffee. You’re relieved to not have those piercing eyes on you anymore, but you don’t let down your guard. 

“And what truth is that?” You ask, hoping to sound casual.

“You’re just as into me as I’m into you.” She answers simply, throwing a look over her shoulder. “It’s alright, I don’t mind waiting. I’ve waited this long.”

You grit your teeth. “Jesus, Lena.”

“I’m just being honest.” She joins you at the table, looking calm as ever even though you’re practically having a meltdown internally. “I’ve wanted you since I could want anyone like that.”

“You really shouldn’t say shit like that.”

“Why?”

“Because-”

“If you’re gonna use the best friend excuse again, it’s a shit one.” Yelena rolls her eyes, sipping her coffee. You cross your arms defiantly, earning an amused grin from the blonde. “If anything, she should be happy. She already likes you.”

“That will change the second I touch you.”

“So you do want to touch me?”

You bite your tongue. How the fuck does she keep coming at you so fast like this? You haven’t even finished your first damn cup of coffee. It’s too early for this.

“Yelena-”

“Oh! Sorry!” A familiar voice pulls your attention to the doorway. Wanda is standing there in one of Natasha’s shirts and a pair of pajama pants. There are hickeys all over her neck, her hair clearly messed up from a long night. “I didn’t hear you guys. Kitchen’s practically sound-proof.” She chuckles awkwardly, eyeing the coffee pot. “Is- is that fresh?”

“Yep, help yourself.” You nod and she quickly makes two cups of coffee. You and Yelena share a meaningful look, united in your opportunity to tease Natasha later.

“So, Yelena,” Wanda begins, cutting the silence. “Natasha said you got a scholarship here for lacrosse. That’s cool.”

“Yeah,” Yelena leans back in her seat, grinning. “Been at it since freshman year of high school. My grades were fine, but this was the only offer that was a full-ride.”

Wanda hums, eyeing the door with a soft expression. “That’s nice. I’ll see you guys later, yeah?”

When she leaves, you’re once again emerged in that strangely charged atmosphere that seems to gravitate between you and Yelena.

“I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not stick around to hear Natasha and Wanda go for round two.” She says, wrinkling her nose.

“Dunno, the kitchen is pretty soundproof apparently. This could be our only safe space for a few hours.” You say it flippantly, meaning it entirely as a joke, but suddenly Yelena looks like the cat who caught the canary.

“And what do you suggest we do to pass the time?” She asks.

“You’re right, a day out sounds great,” you stand so quickly the chair almost falls over. Yelena is cackling at you, but you ignore her. “Get dressed, jerk, we’re going into the city.”

- - - - -

“Ooh, this is cool,” Yelena eyes the vest with a hungry expression. 

You snort. “What, are you enlisting?”

She rolls her eyes. “Do you not see all of those pockets? I could fit so many things in there, you wouldn’t even know.”

You’ve been out with Yelena for the better part of three hours, and in that time you’ve come to realize how much you’d missed her. Not that you weren’t aware of it before, but it feels like the world was somewhat dull without her presence. Her sarcasm, her cleverness, her mischievous grin. 

She’s too endearing for your own good. 

And beautiful, too. You think that’s the worst part. You often just find yourself looking at her, in awe of how she looks and speaks and acts. Still so confident in herself and everything she does, in the most mundane situations. Right now, as she pulls on the vest to look at herself in the mirror, she looks lovelier than ever. 

Oh no, you think distantly. This was not a good idea! 

“What do you think?” She asks, giving herself a long once over before turning to look at you. “I look good, right?”

You smile, unable to resist it. “You look very cool.”

“I knew it!” She hisses under her breath, turning back to the mirror. She really is cute. She catches your gaze through the reflection, winking when your eyes meet. You blush, deciding the floor is very interesting and a thousand times cooler than anything else in the store.

“Damn, it’s thirty-six dollars,” Yelena sighs. 

“I’ll buy it for you,” you offer without thinking about it.

Yelena throws her arms around your neck and for a horrifying moment you brace yourself for her lips to meet yours. Instead, she hugs you, and you have to force yourself to relax again.

“You’re so sweet, thank you,” she gushes.

You’re in deep shit, you just know it.

Natasha calls you around two to ask where you and Yelena were. By this point, you’d made your way to a little cafe, where you ended up talking about what happened in your years of separation. Yelena is relentlessly flirty, apparently keen on proving to you that you’re attracted to her and you certainly aren’t making a good case for yourself what with all the blushing and, admittedly, occasional flirtatious comment.

When you tell her where you are, Natasha says she and Wanda will join you.

“Aw, and I was enjoying our date,” Yelena pouts when you tell her the news.

“This was a date?” You ask with an amused snort.

“Of course it was. You bought me this nice vest and breakfast, and you also just bought me coffee.” Yelena rolls her eyes, as if it were obvious.

“Do me a favor and don’t ever call this a date in front of Natasha. I like my blood inside of my body.” You warn.

“So you agree, then?” Yelena brightens. “This is a date?”

“Yelena-”

“I’m just repeating what you said,” she bats her eyelashes innocently.

You sigh, rolling your eyes and pointedly not responding. She seems to take this as a victory, since she’s still in a happy mood by the time Natasha and Wanda join you.

“Cool vest,” Wanda compliments, sitting beside Yelena while Natasha takes the seat beside you. 

“Thanks,” Yelena grins, “(Y/N) bought it for me.”

“What, did she ‘forget’ to bring her wallet?” Natasha scoffs, earning a pout from her sister.

“It’s a few belated birthday presents,” you excuse, heart warming just a little more when Yelena’s eyes meet yours again. Her lips are ever so slightly curved upwards, an almost unnoticeable smile.

You spend another hour or two at the cafe before Yelena complains about having to stay at a dorm her first year. 

“Moving in with you guys would be so much easier,” she sighs. 

“We only have two bedrooms.” Natasha snorts. “I’m not sharing my bed with you, you’re a violent sleeper.”

“Am not!” Yelena gasps, clutching her chest. “That is a baseless accusation.”

“You literally punched me in the face once.” Natasha scowls.

You burst out with laughter. You were actually there for that one. You were all still pretty young, so you managed to squeeze into a small tent in Natasha’s backyard. Yelena practically begged to be between you, but Natasha was right: she’s a violent sleeper. She kicked a lot, but she was always facing away from you, so it was always Natasha who got kicked. When Natasha tried to turn Yelena over to face you because you were laughing at Natasha, the blonde woke up and suckerpunched Natasha with such impressive accuracy you couldn’t stop laughing.

“Keep laughing, (Y/N),” Natasha warns, “and I’ll start thinking you two are up to something.”

You have to fight the very sudden rise of panic in your chest. What the hell are you worried for? You aren’t up to anything! This wasn’t even a date!

“You’ve caught us,” Yelena recovers, casting you a sly smirk. “We’re conspiring against you.”

“I fucking knew it.” Natasha throws a balled up napkin at her sister.

- - - - -

It’s the last Saturday before school starts. Since the party on Wednesday, Natasha and Wanda have been entirely consumed with one another and Yelena has decided that tormenting you is her favorite pastime. When she drops by unannounced, she makes it a point to tease you and flirt with you when Natasha isn’t watching or listening.

Even worse, when you go to sleep, you keep dreaming about her. Yelena has become a permanent fixture in the back of your mind, always a second-thought. You hate yourself for it. You should be thinking of Natasha first, and how goddamn betrayed she’d feel if you went off and slept with her baby sister.

You’ve decided tonight is going to be a good night to get absolutely wasted. 

It’s not going well.

You’re on drink two and you’ve moved to the dancefloor at the behest of Natasha. She’s introducing you to someone whose name you don’t quite catch. She’s hot, sure, but you’re too confused and stressed to really listen. 

The more Yelena hung out with you, the more you were starting to question what it was, exactly, you were feeling about her. She’s Natasha’s sister, yes, and you’ve known her for years. Practically grew up with her. Her friendship was always a valued one, even if she was younger, but suddenly all of that is fogged up by this… great, big something she’s implanted in your brain. 

You want to scream. Or cry. Or forget yourself.

Yes, that last option is too appealing right now.

It’s easy for a while. You let the woman - Carol - dance with you provocatively, her hands gripping your waist in a way that, typically, you’d definitely enjoy. Even when you can feel her hard muscles moving against you, you can’t quite stay in the moment long enough. You keep picturing Yelena behind you, arms around you, hands moving from your waist to your sides. It feels good - you’re definitely turned on - but it’s not what you want and that’s all the more frustrating.

Carol, swaying her hips flush against yours, leans down until her lips brush against your ear. “Wanna come back to mine?”

You should. You should definitely go back to Carol’s.

But you can’t.

“I’m actually feeling a little, uh, lightheaded,” you separate from her, trying not to wince at the kicked puppydog expression on her face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she recovers quickly, smiling. “Need a ride to your place?”

You shake your head, swallowing your agitation. “I’m fine. I could use the fresh air. Thank you, though.”

“Can I at least get your number?”

Because you feel guilty, and because you can feel Natasha eyeing you questioningly from a few feet away, you give Carol your number before slipping through the dancing bodies. Natasha catches you by the wrist before you go, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Just nervous about school,” you lie smoothly. “I’ll see you at home?”

“I’m going to Wanda’s after, actually,” Natasha smiles fondly at the woman still rolling her hips in time with the music. “But I’ll see you at some point tomorrow?”

You nod, giving a polite wave to Wanda before finally escaping the club.

The night is blissfully cool on your overheated skin. You can’t believe how worked up you’d actually been. Maybe you should go back and take Carol up on her offer-

No, that wouldn’t be right. Carol is definitely into you, and she seems really sweet. You shouldn’t just fuck her because you can’t stop thinking about wanting to fuck your best friend’s sister.

Oof.

You don’t think you’ve actually finished that thought before.

God, I’m a horrible friend. You think bitterly, beginning the short walk back to your apartment.

Your mind isn’t any clearer by the time you get home, but you become very sober when you realize the lights are all on and the TV is making noise from the living room. Grabbing the baseball bat you keep by the door, you creep towards the living room on high alert.

“Do you really think a serial killer wouldn’t remove the only weapon you have by the front door while breaking in?” A familiar voice makes you go rigid. Of course. Of course that’s exactly how your night would go. Perfect. Fucking perf- “Are you just gonna stand there like an idiot or are you going to put the stupid bat down?”

You blush, setting the bat aside while muttering several expletives under your breath. Sure enough, Yelena has made herself perfectly at home on the couch. 

“It’s a Saturday night, don’t you have a life? How did you even get in?” You ask, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway that leads from the front hall to the living room, the edge of the kitchen door tempting you to just hide until Yelena leaves.

“Well, I heard Natasha and Wanda were going out, so I figured you’d be home alone.” She shrugs. “And Nat gave me a key.” She dangles the object with a grin.

“What, you thought I wouldn’t go out to a club with them?” You shake your head with a scoff. “I’m not a total shut-in.”

“You totally are, but whatever.” She snorts, scooting over and patting the spot next to her. You eye her with blatant suspicion and she laughs. “What?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, reluctantly sitting beside her with a decent amount of cushion space between you. She’s watching some classic movie no doubt from Natasha’s collection that she keeps hidden in her room.

Your phone vibrates in your pocket. You pull it out, withering further into the guilty haze you’d left the club in.

Hey, it’s Carol :) If you change your mind, don’t hesitate to ask ;)

“Who’s that?” Yelena asks, peering at your phone.

You shove it back into your pocket with a scowl. “Nobody important.”

“Bullshit. You know you’re not a good liar.”

You glare at her, but it does nothing. She holds your gaze evenly, almost patiently. It makes you even angrier at her, at yourself, at the way your stupid body won’t fucking listen to reason. “Just a girl I met at the club tonight. She’s a little… eager to see me again.”

There’s a brief look of hurt on Yelena’s face, but it’s so brief you almost don't notice it. “Oh? What’s her name?”

“Carol.”

“Danvers?”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

She scoffs. “You can do better.”

“Yelena,” you begin warningly, disliking the abrupt change in atmosphere. 

“What? I’m being honest.”

“She seems… nice.”

“Just ‘nice’?”

“We didn’t exactly talk much.”

“Oh, so you were-”

“I wasn’t doing anything because I couldn’t stop thinking about you, actually.” You snap, unable to control yourself. You want to sound angry, but really you just sound tired. “Fucking Christ, Yelena. I can’t get you out of my head.”

Her expression brightens considerably at this. She moves closer, and you’re once again snared by those damn green eyes and that dumb cocky smirk that you’ve come to associate with Yelena. “Really?”

“We really, really shouldn’t do this.” You state, hoping you sound stronger than you actually feel.

“And why’s that?” She tilts her head, amused. “Because of my sister? She should give you her blessing. Who else would be better for me than someone she already approves of?”

You don’t like how reasonable she sounds when she’s breathing the same air as you, her eyes searching yours. 

“She’s going to kill me if-”

“If.”

There’s something magical about the word ‘if’. Maybe dancing with Carol had you more worked up than you’d thought. You wish you could blame it on the alcohol but with Yelena so close you’re achingly sober. Maybe there are no excuses for what happens next. 

Yelena’s lips find yours with absolute raw lust. Part of you hoped that just doing this, just kissing her, will satiate the longing for her that plagues your mind. (The rest of you knows better than to be stupid enough to believe that.)

Like with everything she does, Yelena kisses like she has something to prove. Maybe she does. You don’t care because it’s making your mind go completely blank and your body is buzzing with a million galaxies being born under her attention. You drink her in like a woman starved, drowning in her scent and her taste and the feeling of her hands curling into your hair and pulling you closer, closer, closer.

She’s on top of you, you aren’t sure how it happened. Her lips and her teeth and tongue are on your neck, finding places that pull quiet sounds from the back of your throat. You can feel her smirking against your skin, god- 

You are a horrible, horrible best friend.

(Why is it getting harder to care?)

You shove aside the guilt. You want this. You need this. 

“I’ve thought about how you’d feel like this for so long,” Yelena breathes against you. You’re positive she’s just left a wicked hickey. It makes you bite back a moan. “How you’d sound,” she continues, fingers dancing along the edges of your shirt, earning a quiet whimper. You let her pull it off of you, and she’s already unbuttoning your jeans. “How you’d taste,” she purrs, kissing down to your collarbone. She moves between your breasts, placing deliberate, wet, hot kisses wherever she pleases, more often than not leaving a dark red mark behind. When she eases your jeans off of your legs, she kisses your thighs and you’re so fucking desperate your hips twitch involuntarily.

Yelena laughs throatily, tossing aside the clothes with such smug pleasure it makes your teeth itch. “So sensitive,” she notes, almost carelessly tracing the edge of your bra. “Or are you just that desperate for me to fuck you?”

“God, Yelena,” you rasp. This is very much not the rambunctious freshman that ran after your mom’s shitty old sedan. Time has turned Yelena into the perfect weapon against you. Go figure. 

Where the fuck did your bra go?

Your fingers curl tightly in her hair when lips wrap around one of your nipples. Finding it harder to keep your noises at bay, a small whimper escapes you when teeth graze against the sensitive skin. Yelena hums against you, eyes flickering up to meet yours. She switches to your other breast, one of her hands slipping between your legs to rub against you through your panties. 

Her smirk is wider than ever when she pulls away from your breast. “Fucking soaked, just as I thought.”

“Shut up,” you huff.

In an instant, she has your hands pinned above your head. You stare up at her, dumbfounded. “How the hell did you get so strong?” You ask, unable to resist doing so.

She bites her lip, fighting a smile. “You should mind your manners. For being so rude, I’m going to make you beg for it.”

You gape at her. “What? You’re the one who said you wanted to- that you’ve been wanting to-”

“Yes,” she hums, leaning down so that she can place more marks on your neck. How the hell you’ll hide those monsters in the morning, you’ve got no idea. “But I like taking my time. You, however,” she snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, earning a hiss of pain and pleasure. “You don’t seem like you’ll last very long.”

Yelena brings a lot out in you, apparently. You’ve never really considered yourself ‘bratty’ or anything before. But the idea of doing exactly what Yelena doesn’t want you to do is so goddamn tempting. Maybe because you know she’s going to make it very much worth it in the end. Yelena has always been one to keep promises.

“No.” 

Your answer takes her by surprise, certainly, but she recovers quickly. She looks delighted, even, when she leans back just enough to look you in the eye.

“No?” She repeats slowly. “You sure about that, malyshka?”

You nod, mouth incredibly dry.

Yelena growls under her breath, returning to her assault on your neck while her free hand starts to massage your already sensitive breasts. You suck in a sharp breath, decidedly holding back any noises you want to make. Yelena catches on fast to your ploy by the time she pushes a knee between your thighs to put just enough pressure against your core to make your body feel like it’s on fire.

“Oh, don’t hold back, milaya. I want to hear those pretty little noises you make,” Yelena croons, rolling her hips so that a delicious friction temporarily relieves the growing agony between your legs. You hiss out a curse, hands straining uselessly against the one Yelena uses to keep you firmly in place. “Aw, you want more?”

“I want you in less clothes,” you huff impatiently. 

“You haven’t earned that yet.” Yelena tuts, her free hand now dipping beneath your panties. She finds the pool of wetness waiting for her there and hums lowly. A keening sound that doesn’t resemble any sort of sound you’ve ever made before escapes you, unbidden. “All you have to do is ask nicely, malyshka,” she drawls, “and I’ll make you feel so good.”

With another roll of her hips, Yelena has your resolve reduced to ashes.

“Please,” you whine. “Please, Yelena.”

“Please what?” 

You try not to roll your eyes. “Please fuck me. I need you to fuck me, I want you to make me-” you’re cut off by a long, deep moan that escapes you very unexpectedly when Yelena’s fingers plunge into you without warning. A new look of victory crosses Yelena’s face, lips quirking up into a grin as she watches you with rapt attention, taking note of what makes you break your internal vow of silence.

When she adds a thumb to your clit, you’re incoherently begging for more.

“More?” Yelena taunts. “Greedy thing, aren’t you?”

“Please, please, more,” you rasp. Pathetic. 

“Mm, I love hearing you ask so nicely,” Yelena praises. You’re trembling beneath her touch, now. “Beg me again. One more time malyshka.”

“Please, Yelena,” you meet her eyes desperately. “Please, I need more.”

“Okay, alright,” Yelena hums her low laugh into your skin, lowering herself until she’s between your legs. “You can have more, dorogoy. You can have everything you want if you keep being good for me.” You’ll do anything she fucking asks if she keeps-

With your hands freed, nothing stops you from grasping at Yelena’s t-shirt while a long, wonton moan rips itself from your throat. Yelena is eating you out like she was born to do it. It’s amazing how quickly she’s learned to make you fall apart - or maybe you’ve really just been anticipating this enough to make it feel that way - but it isn’t long before you’re reduced to mindless, senseless noises that could be full sentences but you aren’t sure.

Yelena hums when one of your hands grips her hair, hips trying hard to move against her. She uses the hand not currently pounding into you to hold your hips down, not allowing them to budge even an inch as she drives you closer and closer to the edge. When her fingers curl and press against a spot inside of you that makes you see stars, your orgasm hits you without warning.

The blonde is relentless. She doesn’t slow down, just focuses harder on fucking you deep, deep, deep until another climax ripples through you. She waits until you’re a sweating, trembling mess before finally slowing down enough for you to catch your breath.

Yelena places several kisses along your body while she returns to your lips, and this kiss is different from the others. Softer, less rushed. You dare even say it’s passionate. You return the kiss lazily, body limp between aftershocks of pleasure while Yelena slowly withdraws her fingers.

She only pulls back from the kiss to pop her fingers in her mouth, sucking on them obscenely before kissing you again and letting you taste yourself on her tongue. Fuck. Your hands move to her waist, pulling her flush against you. 

This time when she pulls away, Yelena is smiling. Not the smug, cocky smile that you’d been expecting. It’s a real one, a bright one that reminds you sharply of the little girl you grew up with. If you had any doubts before that she’s wanted this for a long time, they’re gone in an instant when you see the joy in her eyes.

Instead of letting the guilt take hold, you press a soft kiss to her lips and smile lazily at her. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

Her eyes search your face, like she can’t really believe that you’re requesting this, but she nods and starts working on her vest - the vest you’d bought for her, you realize with a shocking amount of satisfaction - and shirt. 

With every inch of skin newly exposed, you run your fingers along it or skim kisses in spots that make Yelena inhale sharply. She’s not as vocal as you are, but her hums of encouragement are damn hot so you’re not complaining. She seems very content to be on top of you, apparently, and that’s just fine. Once her pants and panties are off, you reach down between her legs while placing kisses along her neck and shoulder.

You both let out quiet moans when you find the wetness waiting for you there. You wish you could feel more smug about it, but honestly you’re just eager to make her feel something for the way she’s worked you up this week.

You make small, teasing circles against her clit, feeling her hips move in time with the motions. Your kisses move to her jaw, and when her mouth meets yours you slip your fingers inside of Yelena and swallow the resulting groan.

She rides your fingers with reckless abandon. She keeps placing purposeful kisses to your neck, your shoulder, your jaw, collarbone - Yelena is intent on making sure you don’t forget the occasion. When you add a third finger and curl your hand so that she can rub her clit against the heel of your palm, Yelena bites down hard. Without even being touched, you suddenly find yourself dangerously close to having another orgasm; a broken, strangled whine slipping free.

Yelena moans, her breath hot on your ear. She moves until her thigh is pressing against you again, her hips rolling freely against the fingers inside of her. It causes just enough friction to make you clumsy in your thrusts, brain and body fighting for control.

“Come with me,” Yelena murmurs, and just like that, you’re both teetering over the edge together. Your body has officially turned into a twitching, useless mass of limbs. Your breath lingers with Yelena’s as she quakes with aftershocks of her own climax, and when you’re able to breathe again she connects your lips.

It’s lazy, it’s messy. Your hands rest on Yelena’s waist now, the blonde’s body resting on top of yours while her arms rest on either side of you. You’re incredibly tired - and a little bit thirsty, but you’re way too comfortable to move right now. Yelena is warm, and it feels nice having her this close. 

When she ends the kiss, she places another quick peck to your lips before resting her forehead against yours. You already feel guilty, but there’s just too much coziness in the afterglow of this moment. Yelena’s eyes are searching yours for something, her smile tender.

“I really have wanted this. For a while.” She says quietly.

“I know.” You move one hand up to tuck her hair behind her ear. 

“I missed you.” She leans into your touch, never breaking your gaze.

“I know,” you repeat, kissing her gently. “I missed you, too.”

Guilt be damned, Yelena’s smile is worth it.

~ part 2 ~

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