#Long distance Moving Los Angeles | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1nthedarknessofthenight · 1 month ago

Text

﴾ smooth operator

pairing: bangchan x f!reader

genre: one-shot, office au, smut

word count: 7,1K

warnings: dom!bangchan and sub!reader ⋆ exhibitionism!⋆ choking! ⋆ ass!slapping⋆ hair!pulling ⋆ marking! ⋆ cum!eating ⋆ possessiveness ⋆ oral (f.receiving) ⋆ angry!sex⋆ unprotected!sex ⋆ creampie!

summary: you always get what you want, with a single look, a wave of your hand, dripping with confidence that made him tremble the first time you two met, he watched you quietly from afar, admiring the perfection that you are, but it soon turned into obsession and oh, how he hated how much you got into his head…

request by @khandzilla

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Many things had happened to Chris since he moved, away from all of his past and finally reaching for the future. He discovered many different things that he had never thought about before, trying every new thing and place the city of Los Angels had to offer. They shone at him with brightness, called out to him, even though the tiring and sometimes boring main reason he had taken this step slowed down his new experiences. The best thing was that he had time — plenty of time for himself to grow and learn. The job that gave him this opportunity was honest with him — it will be hard to maintain his position, but all of the hard work paid off in the end. However, he thought that doing all those business meetings, marketing and all the paperwork would be the hardest part…definitely not maintaining his composure.

Chris has done a lot of new things since his first day at work, met new people and made contacts. He could still remember how nervous he was on the first day, but everyone surprised him by being so kind and it was almost unusual at such a hectic workplace. Every day was different for him, if he doesn’t count those awfully long papers and files he had to fill out every day. It was, because of the people that he now can call friends. Minho, despite his first impression of him told him that he wasn’t very friendly, immediately took him under his wing. He showed him everything, what to do and what not do and even introduced him to his other colleagues. Seungmin, a brunette, quite similar to him in a sense that he always made fun of his age just like Minho, even if he wasn’t that much older than them and then Chris soon found himself in a pile of many different faces.

But one thing remained the same and that was you. The first time he saw — felt your presence was when he was a week into his new job. You screamed, your aura cutting through the office as you quickly walked pass him. You were so quick in your heels that he didn’t even have a chance to get a full look at you. Though someone was quick enough to catch his stare — Minho, who was sitting across of him spoke your name and that made the others glance at him. It was like the sound of your name was a secret code, because everyone suddenly turned their heads to catch just a glimpse of your distancing figure. He felt his ears turn red at being caught, but soon after the others became aware of your presence, he realized that he wasn’t the only one simply astonished by you.

He learned from the looks of his colleagues and then awfully interesting gossip that you rarely left your office. Seeing you walk passed them always broke into something — you were the main topic of gossip. Everyone seemed to know everything about you, yet you didn’t talked to anyone if it wasn’t necessary. You were always quick, never leaving your sanctuary if it weren’t for a meeting or a coffee. Aubrey, a dark haired woman which seemed to be the leader of your small ‘fan club’ said that it was like you were almost disgusted by them as if you felt, you were above them. Soon his female colleagues’ chatting turned bitter as they all turned to him, while Minho and Seungmin silently listened. Chris knew that it wasn’t right to talk about someone — about what they were wearing, how they were behaving in a such place and when you not know them, but he kept his mouth shut to get every information.

Chris doesn’t know if it was because he literally became awestruck by your presence from the moment he saw you, but he soon started to see more of you. You seemed to be always in some a corner, alone, but he always found you. You always sat at the corner of the room next to a window, when it was lunchtime. You always made your coffee with just a splash of milk and just a small pump of vanilla. You seemingly should blend into the background as you were always in dark clothes, but your whole aura radiating from you couldn’t make you invisible.

He remembered the one time, when he was sitting behind his desk, looking at the back of your head, tracing your figure clad in loose trousers and blouse, just waiting for you to turn around. Maybe to notice him, maybe to let him finally see your face behind your blowout hair. He should have concentrated on his work or maybe on the voice of his female colleague talking his ear and that really started to cut through his fixation. He didn’t even see your face and it was getting to him. His coworkers voice was awfully low and sweet and he knew she was trying to get his attention, but it was no use.

He watched your pretty manicured fingers go to your cup of coffee, metal reflecting in the light as you never used those cheep, plastic cups like everyone else — well, you definitely weren’t like anyone he had ever met before. You turned just slightly to the side, lips puckering, when you glanced into the hallway leading to your office, finger making a come here motion. He could tell you were frustrated, your frown that he didn’t see much of deepening, when Minho suddenly emerged from the hallway.

Chris straightened his back and at that the annoying sound of his colleague became quiet. He ignored it, noting Minho’s small twitch and fidgeting, when you push a pile of papers into his direction. He couldn’t hear anything over the noises of mouses and keyboards clicking, but he could feel the shift in the air. His friend had a look of small fright, when you started to move your lips slowly, but words seemingly laced with a hard tone. He at that wondered how much strict you you actually were, maybe some of the gossip turned into a fact. Minho shook his head wildly after you were done speaking, not even trying to cut into your speech like he does with everyone. You tilted your head at his words, letting the papers be pushed back to you. His friend then pointed right into his direction, like a child trying to escape his punishment and you instantly turned to look at him.

His mouth opened, gaped at your features — soft, yet sharp with the look you gave him under your glasses. Chris felt his heart stop when you turned fully into his direction, before marching through the room right to his desk. From the corner of his eye he could see everyone turning their heads, hear the sudden stop of the even sounds of keyboards, but he couldn’t do anything else, but look at you. Your body — so nice, tight and soft in the right places, eyes trailing over your blouse that clinged to your breast, your lips painted deeper brown, your eyeshadow sharpening your stare.

The sound of your shoes made his heart beat faster with each stomp, before they scraped on the floor, when you stopped right before his desk. “Chris, is it?” Your glare didn’t match your slow and low tone, not even your comfortable stance, but from the looks of his colleagues, he could tell that you actually were not pleased at all. Why, he didn’t know yet at that moment, still to occupied by looking your over and also trying to keep his cool, because the way you said his name was…arousing.

Chris just knew he looked stupid, when his eyes went back and forth between his coworkers and you, it was like he completely forgot his own name. “Yes…” He thinks he has never felt like this since a teacher caught him misbehaving in middle school.

The way you were waiting for him, giving him time to anwer just made him realize how patient you are, even if you looked quite irritated. You then put those papers on his desk, slap! echoing through the room. “Please, take another look at those papers.” You say, voice still collected.

He did what you ask, even if it was quite hard to tear his gaze away from you, but at least he had your perfume filling up his nose. His eyes fell to the file with papers, lips falling even more apart as he scanned through them. They were his, he did them yesterday just an hour before he ended his day and just by a single look he could tell that there was something not right. “Oh!” His fingers stopped at a particular spot, your shadow heavy on his shoulders.

“Yes, correct it–“ He looked up at you at that, already distancing yourself as you were almost shaking to get back to your office. “Give it back to me later, you have time till three.”

With only that you walked away, not letting him ask questions, leaving him to figure out his mistakes himself. The only thing you left was your lingering presence that made few people, other than his friends look at him and he wanted to groan out loud. ‘What a way to make nice, first impression’, he thought to himself. He literally made a fool of himself. The first words, the first thing he did to get your attention was his idiocy. The hand that landed on his shoulder was supposed to be calming, but Seungmin only made him feel more humiliated. It also didn’t help that the others immediately started to get to the talk and he didn’t hear anything other than their awful gossip.

“Did you see that? Poor you, Channie-“

“How can she talk to us like that?”

“Did you see her clothes? She’s literally screaming for attention!”

“You didn’t do anything wrong, just do what she wants, so she can get off your back–“

Chris was disgusted. You weren’t bitchy or moody, you were collected and he knew just what your position requires. He couldn’t help, but feel intimidated — it was a natural response to you. How could they talk to you like that? Making gossip and hate out of anything you do, Chris is glad for his two friends at the moment as they shut down their conversation. One thing is being humiliated by making a mistake infornt of a woman like you and then others just adding up to it. It was his fault, you only told him to fix it, nothing more. There was no need for them to talk about you so harshly.

Chris returned the papers just in time that day, but he was not quick enough to catch up with you as your office was already closed. It was also the first time he was in that part of the building, only passing by it to get to the elevators. He stared for a moment at your name and your title at the milky, glass door and he probably stood there for a quite while as your assistant walked up to him. He can’t lie that he was disappointed by your assistant telling him to just give those papers to him as you were at a meeting.

Though after that he got just a few more occurrences with you. The most memorable one was when you joined him at the coffee machine. He can still remember your pencil skirt and matching suit jacket, red lips, black stockings with a line going down the back of your legs and mostly your pretty glasses framing your face as you looked for your vanilla sirup. He had to fight the argue to a smirk, when he without a word lean over your cup to pump the hidden sirup in his hands into your coffee. You almost seemed surprised by his presence, like you didn’t even know he was right next you or maybe it was simply because of his sudden deep eye contact. He didn’t even blink, while looking at you, not even when you said a small sweet ‘thank you’. That simple moment grew into something big, when you leaned over him to to grab a plastic cup to put it in the coffee machine, before pressing his preferred choice of drink. It wasn’t sweet anymore after that, it was more nerveracking, because the fact you knew told him everything — you were watching too and he started to like you more and more, before it started to change.

Soon he started to hate you. He hated how you were in the every corner of his mind. He was thinking about you since the first day he saw you — at work, even home, mainly late at night in the privacy of his bedroom. He hated how you saw him firstly like everyone else, how he felt like everyone else — how he was firstly scared of you. Even if he talked to you briefly, got to know your small habits — how you always clicked your nails together, how you hold the side of your glasses with your index finger, your chewing at the inside of your lips, your small minimal pull at your eyebrows when someone talked to you. The conversation were always about work, you never talked outside of it and he soon realized how much you are into your work. You are a total workaholic or maybe you just didn’t like someone sticking their nose into your business.

But it felt like it was his too, because how possibly can you be able to mess him up like this? You weren’t even doing anything to rile him up and he must wonder if those subtle looks, gestures where really nothing or if you were just playing with him. He wanted to figure you out and it is driving him insane, because he feels like he is turning into one of them…though they certainly aren’t thinking of putting you into your place — right under him or maybe he would even let you be on top of him, just like you were used to.

Chris has to groan into his hands, back muscles screaming at the pressure they were put through the whole day. He really does sometimes breathe in relief when he goes to work out, because sitting hours behind a desk feels like a form of torture. It’s so quiet — it’s so weird not hearing even a whisper. The office would look eery, if it weren’t for the city lights shinning through the glass windows. He swears, he can even hear cars from the silence in the room. The lamp at his desk is burning his eyes, glancing for the last time over his work and he wants to scream in delight as he finally could pack his things up and go home.

Today was unusually stressful for him, so much of everything that he had no choice, but to stay late. He could have done it on Monday, but the thought of not finishing something wouldn’t make his weekend better, not to mention how overly hectic it would be if he would leave it to Monday. From the sitting and the turned down air conditioning his skin glisten in the thin layer of sweat, pulling just slightly at his white shirt to unstick it from his stomach. He didn’t even care about how he basically throw his things into his bag, too lazy to actually take time and put everything where it belongs.

The click of his polished shoes is the only sound in the building as he walks down the hallway, trying to untie the nots in his upper back. Though silence should be thing quite familiar to him in sense as he walks pass your office, only for his own body to stop in its tracks. A frown falls on upon his face, looking down at the carpet under his feet. Light is coming from behind your door, the warm orange hue cutting through the moonlight floor. Chris firstly thought that you might just accidentally let your lamp on, but that wouldn’t make any sense — he is the only one here…

Curiosity gets the best of him, not even thinking twice and wrapping his hand around the door handle. In a sense he feels like he is doing something he shouldn’t as the door creaks open, letting him barely have a look in the room and sure enough he at that hears sound of a keyboard’s clicking. His heart beats s little faster, thinking of way too many different things that could be happening behind the door and he literally haven’t open it yet. To his surprise it was a way simpler answer — way more exciting…

You — you were here with him, at this late hour at a place you both know so well. He knew, after some small and innocent spying that you clocked out just an hour before him as you always get here in the early hours of morning — so seeing you behind your desk with a laptop illuminating your face was a surprise. “What are you doing here?” And you were definitely surprised too.

You jump in your seat at the unexpected voice, eyes widening just slightly as you snap your head into the direction of the door. He can see the genuine expression of surprise for a split second, before it all falls back to your natural, cold one. “I could ask you the same thing.” You wit back, taking a one, long look at him from your desk — his misbehaved hair, opened shirt that clinged to his toned body, how he leaned casually on the doorway, before you turn back to your work.

Chris tilts his head at you, listening to your nails grazing over the keyboard. “It’s almost one a.m–“ He, just like you doesn’t answer your question as it wasn’t that much important at the moment, not when you were looking like that — you always looked put together, not single wrinkle on your clothes or a smudge in your make up, but he can see the small effects of your equally hard day on you.

Your glasses that were usually on the low point of your nose sit in the small pocket on your blouse, his eyes naturally drifting to the exposed skin of your breasts. Your outfits were always modest, yet so provocative. Your lipstick appeared lighter than before, but he knew it was dark red as he saw you pass by his desk today. So quick, but not quick enough to not be caught by his eyes. His knuckles turn white at the sight of your open top, body swaying, ready to take a step close just to try and see what you might ne hiding underneath. Chris doesn’t even care about how unprofessional he is being, the only thing he cares about is seeing if you were thinking the same thing — well, you certainly weren’t telling him to leave.

“I know.” You say, not even looking at him, seemingly very into the piece of paper in front of you and he can see your fingers nibbling at its edge.

“Aren’t you tired?” He says, genuinely wondering.

“No.”

“Can I get you a coffee?” Chris fires question after question, just to hear your sultry voice, frustrated from the lack of attention.

You don’t answer this time to his displeasure, only holding up your cup to let him see there was no need for him. But he needs it — you, how can he not grab this opportunity to finally talk to you, fully get drunk off your presence alone. You don’t do anything to indicate that he is not invited, so he slowly makes his way up to you. His eyes not even for a second leave you, grasping greedily at every new angle he gets. You look frustrated — the twitch in your eyebrows is prominent and he wants nothing more than to turn it into something way different.

You are aware of his looming body behind you and you know about that hand gripping the back of your chair, though you do nothing against it. Your fingers no longer move on the keyboard, the pen in your hand hovering over the paper before you. You just stare at it, realizing you might be getting distracted. “That’s tomorrow’s work.” His breath hits the back of your head, making you fight back goosebumps.

“Yes, that’s why I’m doing it…”

You remark was supposed to be witty, but the small strain in your voice won over. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself…Y/N.” Chris sighs out your name, hand gripping tightly the back of your chair, doing anything in his power not to just turn you around, so you can see everything what you did and are still doing to him.

He can hear you click your tongue, head just barely turning his way. “I didn’t know we are casual like that…Christopher.” You say.

His eyes narrowed from your words and tone. Is this really not casual? The thick tension in the room, the shared looks…Chris suddenly becomes angered, mostly frustrated from your behavior. His nose flares to exhale a deep sigh, before taking in the sweet smell of your perfume. By that action his body naturally needed to get closer to you to get a real and good whiff of your scent. He hovers over you, caging you in — and was that a small gasp and shake as a reaction to his bold move? “You are so tense…” He can’t fight the satisfied smile from your reaction. Even if it would be unseen by others, his fixation on you literally gave him the power to crack open every single small twitch in you, reading you like a book. “Do you need me to take it away?” He whispers, hot breath hitting you.

There’s a pause, your lips falling apart. “What are applying exactly?” You are incredibly still and collected, even if he is able to see under your thick shell.

He shrugged at your question, smile not leaving his lips and he knows you can hear it in his next words. “Just a massage…” He says so innocently.

He can’t see the obvious frown on your face. “Get on with it then.” You say, your voice uncharacteristically quiet, though your tone sharp. The small laugh in his chest couldn’t be contained by your reaction. His hands loosen around the back of your chair, face falling as he lifts his finger to just barely push your hair away from your neck.

The light scratch of his nails leaves traces of fire, tickling and making a rush of a new emotion go through your whole body. You are quiet, staring at the closed doors to your office, while you let the man behind you touch you. Chris is so slow with his every move, it’s like he is doing it on purpose — maybe to see a glimpse of frustration on your face, but who are you to give him such pleasure? His hands are big, fingers long and when he puts them on your shoulders they almost dip under your slightly open blouse.

You both at that realize the difference between your body temperatures — his hands were hot and they came with even more burning, when he pressed into your shoulders, your body was cold and you realize that it might be because you haven’t felt this much burning for anyone before. He — he has to know by the way your body is so tense under his hands that it’s been a quite long time since you last felt the touch of another. Your work, your passion and need for perfection suddenly felt like a immense weight on your shoulders that he messaged all away with just few squeezes. However your pride didn’t shift…you are not sure if you want to give him the satisfaction and let him see the true effect he has on you. Or do you? One thing that you truly want is to see him tremble, just like on the day you two first met — so flustered, almost scared just by your existence.

Chris breathe so heavily, you for sure have to feel his silent sighs on your skin. The material of your blouse is so thin, that he scrunches it up between his fingers at thought of tracing his fingers across your naked skin. His thumb makes circles on the strap of your bra, the other already falling off your shoulder and he eyes it with a heated glare. “Nice?” He has to wonder, because you didn’t even breathe throughout his moves. He hates, how he seeks your approval.

Heat rushes to his chest, when you let out a quiet, yet soft and long hum of pleasure. The sound makes him press down onto you just a little harder and Chris almost loses his mind right there, when you only sigh again. “Yeah–“ His eyes roll back into his head at your voice, his hips embarrassingly pressing onto the back of your hair. He sighs deeply, heart jumping when you tilt your head to look up at him. “Maybe a little lower?” Your voice is breathless, sweet like honey, but your piercing eyes surely don’t match it. The top of your head is brushing his stomach, your moves, making you push out your chest and his eyes follow immediately your movements and words. His body is stiff other than his hands that keep squeezing at you and they eagerly go lower by your request, pressing down onto your collarbones. “Lower…,yeah — right there.”

Your words dangerously end in what sounded like a moan and Chris licks his lips at the sight of the black lace peaking out of your shirt. “You like that?” His fingers dip into the middle of your breasts, watching your head roll back onto your shoulder, sighing with you at his touch. “Or do you want me to go a little lower?”

The smirk on his lips is obvious and you can’t help, but do the same, enjoying the way his hands pinch at the softness of your breasts, before suddenly pushing yourself from the chair. Your move is so unexpected and quick that he stumbles, the smile of satisfaction falling from his face, but you don’t see the change of expression. “I fear, I have to go now, Mr. Bahng.” Again with your sweet voice that really started to taste bitter as he watches you move across your desk — he had enough.

A hand wraps around your wrist tightly. “No, you are fucking not.” He says, through gritted teeth and you remark gets stuck in the back of your throat, when he roughly turns you around, pinning you to the table and you only become more short of breath, when his hand falls on your neck, fingers pressing ever so slightly into your pulse.

You can’t breathe properly, just like him, staring into each other eyes and you finally see how much darker they have become. You broke him — you and your tactics. He is sick of your playing, not caring about how so suddenly and so sharply he snapped at you, but the look on your face…it seems like you are enjoying this. His fingers wrapped around your dianty neck, your upper half basically exposed to his hungry eyes and then his gaze fall on your lips, smudged in a hue of red — he just had to take a bite.

His lips smash to yours and even in his delirious state, he saw how you leaned into his hold — you wanted this too, him. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip, teeth, till he tastes the bitter taste of coffee and the sweetness you naturally had in you. It is so much and so good, but you still fight lightly to gain dominance against the kiss, though you can’t keep up, something possessed him at that moment and with the first taste of your lips, he couldn’t stop.

Your noses brush against each other, breathing heavily, not even separating for a split second, till you of course had to say something. “I think this is highly unprofessional–“ You say your every word between each kiss, his fingers pressing a little harder around your neck at your statement.

Chris pulls away from you, eyes glaring down at you, eyebrows furrowed. “Do I look like I fucking care?” His tone sends shivers down your spine, him not seeing it, because he leaned over your body to press his lips next your ear. “You are insufferable, I fucking hate you.” His hot breath hits your ears, feeling his tongue graze your earlobe.

A wide smile finds your lips, breathing out heavily. “We both know, that you don’t hate me.” You shake your head lightly at him and it makes him look back at you, his hard stare not matching your overly sweet smile.

“I’m gonna fuck you like I do.”

For the first time your confidence trembles, smile falling a little at the deep rasp in his voice and now he is the one finding some amusement about this situation. You always act so tough…it’s funny to him that you try his patience even now — now when he has you under him, now when his hand is around your neck, now when his other hand travels up your thigh to your center. The heat radiating from you tells him everything he needs to know. His hand finds the sliver of naked skin, when his fingers graze your garter belt, for a moment enjoying the softness of your inner thighs. His eyes however don’t leave your face as your eyes close slightly, silently sighing at his gentleness, before his next move makes you gasp sharply.

His whole hand cups your covered pussy, your juices smearing all over him and by your reaction your leg just barely grazes his crotch, moaning lightly at the feeling. “What got you so wet, huh?” Your lips are sealed for a moment, while his ring and middle finger finds your clit, pressing down on it, yet not moving. “No smart remark? Really is it that easy?”

“Are you going to fuck me or you just not gonna finish your job like always?” You hiss at him, hips pushing against his fingers to find more friction, but to your displeasure, his touch leaves you completely, removing his hand from your skirt and even the hand on your neck leaves you.

Your heart skips a beat for a second, not from fright, but from excitement, ready to see more of this new side of him. Chris isn’t moved by your words, too occupied by pressing his lips to your neck. He licks over your skin, tasting your perfume, before he traps the thin skin of your neck between his teeth. The sharpness is painful for a second, before it melts into pleasure as he sucks and slurps at you. The raw moan you give him makes him groan in union, moving his mouth to the spot under your ear, sucking just as harshly, before he moves to the other side of your neck, your collarbone, the soft skin of your upper breast…He drools over you, bites down on you and he feels a sense of possessiveness grow in him as he finally pulls away to take a good look at your current state.

Your mouth is open, lips glistening from your own spit, eyes following the trail of bites and splotches he left on you and you now by the subtle burn, that he even felt an small imprint of his fingers on your neck. His thumb presses down on one particular spot — right over your heart. “So pretty, look at you, covered in me…” Chris is biting on his lip, chewing, like reminiscing, before meeting your half lidded eyes.

“You…” You are so quiet, lost for words and he feels his cock jump at your drunken state.

“You…” He repeats, but his version helds a almost sick longing. He shakes his head, almost like you would, before straightening his back to completely surround you with his whole body. “Bend over.” Chris’s sudden dominance makes you shaky, he can see the effect by your wildly raising chest and even though you still have some grip on your composure, he feels sense of pride seeing you like this. All because of him — you turn around slowly, too slowly for him, that he had to push you against your desk, palm of his hand on your lower back.

He moves your hair away from your shoulder, mouthing at your already marked up neck, while his hands roam wildly all over your body. They drift under your blouse, his moves so rough that couple of the buttons pop open letting him fondle your tits freely. You let yourself go a little, moaning at his touches. He is everywhere — touching you as if it would be the last time he’d ever have you like this. “I hate you–“ He repeats the words between each suck, you hissing at his teeth piercing your skin a little too deeply.

Chris hums, hips grinding against your ass and you both gasp at the sensation. You can’t help it — maybe it’s because you just enjoy being like this or you want him to finally break. You don’t even know what he might do to you, but that only excites you more. “Ah — is this all because of me?” You coo at him, hand pushing his head away from your neck to look at him. The expression you get from him is worth it, rolling your hips against his.

A hiss of pain leaves you, when his hand finds your hair, tugging your head back. “Every fucking day — every single fucking day…you enjoy making people feel like they are under you, like you are some kind of higher power.” The poison in his voice is light more than anything, it’s just pure lust, but it does make you stop fidgeting. “But who are you outside of this building? Huh, Y/N?” You don’t respond, eyes widening, mouth opening and you feel small pool of drool gathering in the corner of your mouth. When his hand finds your skirt again, scrunching the material and pushing it up your hips, you just realize how much you were pressing your thighs together to make the ache in your cunt go away. “I think you are just a woman, who never let anyone put her in her place.” Chris breathes out a laugh at your face, while he finally release himself from his pants and underwear. The sound you let out next send sparks straight to his cock, his tip at the seem of your underwear. Finally he has your full attention, eyes unmoving from his face and when his fingers push your underwear to the side he has to shiver from how much you are dripping all over him, because of him. His hand comes to your jaw, with the other leveling his cock to your entrance. “You are controlling — and even if you are fantastic in what you do, don’t you think you also need some kind of teaching?”

Your mind is fuzzy, staring at him as he pushes his hips into you and the sheer size of his mushroom tip makes your legs shake. Your body, face, wet and dripping cunt tells him everything to know not to stop his moves. “Fuck–“ The curse flies out of your mouth, when he bottoms out, kissing your cervix and the foreign word leaving your lips makes him groan. You hug him so well, tight, letting him know just how much you needed this. He doesn’t want to be gentle, not after all of your theatrics and teasing — not with the already fucked out look on your face.

The drag of his cock is delicious, filthy and you both can hear the sounds of your juices smearing across the both of you. Your knuckles turn white, gripping tightly at the edge of your desk with the first thrust of his hips. It makes you only arch more for him, air getting knocked out of you, when he starts to fuck into you so roughly, you only could fall forward and let him do whatever he wants. Chris’s lips are parted, tongue swiping across his teeth, eyes going to the sight of your pussy swallowing him whole. In the night lights he can see your glistening, creamy wetness on his cock, his hand pinching at your ass, mesmerized by you.

The way your hips try so desperately to match his erratic rhythm makes his chest tighten. “Yeah…yeah—“ He doesn’t know what to say for a moment as he meets your eye, when look back at him. He sees the small tears of pleasure in your gaze and something about the way you send him a small smile his way, makes him push you against his chest. “So good…so pretty.” You hum lowly at his words, looking at his face, breathing shakily from his thrusts. “It would be a pity to have you all to myself like this.”

Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting in confusion, but your face forms into shock, when he suddenly lifts you off your feet. Chris is swift, not letting you even think about, what he might do with you — no he shows you instead. He turns you both around, stumbling a little, before pushing you against the cold window of your office. “Chris–“ A gasp of his name leaves you, eyes wide and staring at the scenery under you, going over the high buildings next you and each light up window.

“Oh, know it’s Chris?” He knows the risk of someone seeing you like this, even if the possibility of someone seeing you so high up and quite far away is small, it still makes a rush of excitement go over you. Your cunt tightens around him and he finds it hard to maintain his sanity, with you gripping his so tightly.

Your breath fogs up the window, when he starts to move again, thighs press together and making him feel even bigger than he already is. You don’t think anyone ever handled you like this before — hand bruising on your hip, the other holding you against the window, fucking you so roughly and just like he said — putting you in your place. Your ears ring, already lost from the feeling of his cock ramming into you, each pulsing vein making your insides shake. “Chris…” He groans back at the sound of his name, head landing on the window next to yours to catch your gaze.

The coldness from the window on your chest and the warmness from his touch is all too much for you to handle. He can tell by the look in your eyes, closing each second that he bottoms out. “You feel so good–“ Chris finishes his words with a harsh smack on your asscheek and you only push against him more, so he only does it again. “You like that?” You can already feel the skin of your ass turning red and the burn left behind is way too good for you to not nod at his question.

“I c-can’t—“ You gasp, whimper, pushing your forehead against the window, but he doesn’t let you hide.

His hand finds your neck again, pulling you up to make you look back at him, hard chest on pressed on your back. “You can, baby, I know you can.” Chris is enjoying the way you turned so small, seeing finally the girl that always needed to do good. “Give it to me — cum for me.” You cry out at his words, lower tummy rumbling at his words, staring through blurry sight at the crazed look on his face.

You lean to kiss him, more tongue than lips, moaning and gasping into his mouth. He tightens the hand on your neck, cutting the air in your throat. Your ears ring, but you can still hear the smack of his hips and filthy words coming from his lips. You couldn’t hold it no more, the last bits of your pride-self thrown out of the window you were pressed against as he finds the one, squishy, soft spot inside you. Chris is too good at analyzing you now, because his thrusts only become more sharper, shorter and harsher, the tip of his cock brushing against the spot every time he bottoms out, till your eyes roll back inside your head.

Your orgasm make your whole body shake, the only thing not letting you slide down the now sleek window is his strong hold. The faces and noises you make are way better than his imagination. Your walls spasm around him, sucking him in, making his hips shutter, pushing only harder into you. He pulls you so close to his body that you feel his heart beating against your back, his hips stilling, thrusting up into you roughly and it almost makes you squeal. The deep growl he lets out, makes his chest rumble, nose digging into your hair as his cock twitches. You can feel him filling you to the brim, your mixed juices already making a creamy ring around the base of his cock. It’s so hot, filthy, marking you in the most intimate way possible, but the blissful fullness is ripped away from you, when he pulls out his still hard cock from your puffy pussy.

You want to turn around, for the second time confused and mostly shocked by his actions, because you see him from the corner of your eye falling down to kneel behind you. The hands on your hips don’t let you move an inch, letting him take a look of your spend cunt, thumbs pulling at your lips to get a closer look at your gaping hole. You would feel embarrassed if it weren’t for his tongue suddenly licking into you, scooping his and your orgasm into his hot mouth. You are at the brink of overstimulation, hair and clothes sticking to your sweaty skin, not even making a sound to stop him from pushing his face into your pussy from behind. His tongue is everywhere, all over you, tip of it flicking your puffy clit, then flattening, just to lick your whole cunt all the way to your rim. The only thing that wakes you up from your state of exhaustion and pleasure all together is him retrieving from you, pressing his chest to your back and to only shove his tongue inside your mouth to make you taste the tanginess of your mixed pleasures.

You both got exactly what you wanted — though neither of you is sure, when it will be enough.

#bangchan x reader #bangchan x y/n #bangchan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz smut #skz x you #changbin x reader #felix x reader #han jisung x reader #i.n x reader #lee know x reader #seungmin x reader #hyunjin x reader

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affordablelosangelesmoversposts · 7 months ago

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azzifuddfanpage · 1 month ago

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Paige catching Azzi masturbating and she doesn’t let it go but instead tease her and join her in helping her cum

Caught

———— thank you for the prompt!!!🫶

ALSO PLEASE GIVE ME UR FEEDBACK AND COMMENTS OR IM NOT DOING ANOTHER PROMPT TN THANK YEW

———-

3.1k words tw: smut

themes: smut like all smut good luck 👍 (hope u sluts are happy 🤷‍♀️)

———— Paige and Azzi had spent the majority of the year attached at the hip.

When the espys rolled around and Paige had to fly out to Los Angeles, Azzi couldn’t help herself but miss her after spending almost every waking minute together.

“U really have to go?” Azzi asked, her arms connected tightly against Paige's waist, and her face nuzzled into the crook of her neck.

Paige took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of Azzi’s coconut lavender shampoo.

“I know baby, I have to go, but it’s only for a few days, and I’ll FaceTime you every night.”

“Better be everyday too.” Azzi pouted.

Paige's heart warmed seeing her girl all clingy to her, and she tightened her grip around her.

As happy and blessed she was to be given this opportunity, she was sad she couldn’t have her best friend/ girlfriend beside her.

———

Seeing Paige in the suit, her hair pulled back into the low messy bun, her eyes sparkling under the spotlight. Azzi couldn’t hide the nagging heat between her thighs that was desperate to be settled.

Paige was originally supposed to come home 2 days after the espys.

The first day after was filled with parties, and then the second day she had to meet with someone to work on her nil deal with her shoes.

What Azzi didn’t know was that Paige had changed her flight, and instead of flying out that next morning, she would fly out that afternoon.

———

Azzi on the other hand had more important things to worry about, more specifically, the evolving heat in her core that had been growing since the day Paige left.

She tried to ignore it, she tried to distract herself by watching frozen (5 times), working on extra skills in the gym (even though there was only so much she could do since her last injury), or even learning how to make baked Mac and cheese from scratch (one of paige’s favorites), but none of it seemed to scratch the itch that was so badly limiting her.

She knew she wouldn’t be able to skip out on watching the espys that night.

So when she clicked on the tv and saw the way Paige's fingers wrapped around the mic, she was already very fragile.

Somehow she managed to hold off that entire night and into the next day.

She continued to keep herself busy like she had done before, going to rehab, focusing on the summer classes she had taken to work through her masters, but by the time that evening rolled around and she opened TikTok she knew she was screwed.

The first video on her for you page was an edit of Paige in her espys fit.

Azzi’s eyes glazed over as she saw the way Paige's nimble fingers grasped the microphone, the level of confidence seeping out of her as she spoke. But what did it for her most was the way her veins popped in her arms the same way they did when her fingers were thrusting in and out of Azzi’s lower stomach, desperate to please her.

Azzi looked at her phone, the ache in her stomach too strong to ignore, she moved her fingers down to her waist band and slipped them into her panties, her clit already sensitive to the touch as she rubbed against it, collecting her stick from the entrance of her hole.

She moaned at the contact, her eyes focusing on the video of Paige, her Paige, she imagined her fingers were Paige's needy long fingers that could never stay off Azzi.

Azzi didn’t even feel embarrassed at this point, it wasn’t like she had never done it before, when they had been long distance before they had to use similar methods, but now, she wasn’t used to this.

The feeling of her own fingers against her skin, would never match Paige's.

Paige knew her body better then she did, knew what made her whimper, what made her legs shake, what made her white syrup spill as Paige thrusted against her g spot.

As Azzi slugged off her shorts and began to lazily fuck her fingers into herself, she could already feel a release brewing, but it wasn’t the same. She felt as though the release she had was bottled up for so long that it was stuck.

Azzi fucked herself, transitioning between thrusts in and out of herself, to soft rubs and aggressive rubs on her clit, she went back and forth with this for a while, her orgasim remaining close but still so far.

Azzi let out a frustrated moan, her focus going back to the video, pretending her fingers were Paige's, persistent and begging to be swallowed by Azzi’s needy pussy.

Azzi threw her head back moaning Paige's name.

——-

Paige was honestly tired from her long day of flying, but after 3 days without seeing Azzi, she too not only missed her emotionally, but she also had an ache between her legs that only a curly haired brunette guard from UConn could cure.

Paige walked into the suite and was met with an overwhelming layer of silence.

She wanted to surprise Azzi.

When Paige finally pushed open the door, she saw Azzi’s legs spread open, her fingers desperately against herself.

Paige felt her knees buckle at the sight.

The way Azzi was folded over, her body spread out on the bed, a bead of sweat running down her forehead.

She watched as Azzi’s fingers dip lazily into her hole.

Paige continued standing there, her eyes unable to leave her girlfriend's vulnerable frame.

Azzi threw her head back- eyes still shut- as she moaned.

“Paige.” Azzi whimpered, her phone still lying forgotten in front of her.

Paige smirked hearing Azzi’s breathy whimper of her name.

“Not even locking the door first damn az.” Paige finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Azzi let out a yelp, jumping at the sudden unexpected presence in her room.

Pulling out her fingers she threw the blanket over her.

“JESUS PAIGE WHAT THE FUCK” Azzi said a little out of breath from how startled she was.

“you actually just scared the living fuck out of me.” Azzi continued rubbing her face with her hand (not the one that was just inside of her)

“Ya literally” Paige snorted, walking closer to her and pulling down the sheets exposing Azzi’s naked frame.

Her nipples were hard from the cold air, and Paige could see how wet she was under the light.

“Really couldn’t wait for me, could you baby?” Paige said, running her finger along Azzi’s abs.

Azzi shuddered under her contact, shaking her head embarrassed.

“I tried- just missed you badly.” Azzi said ashamed, her eyes subconsciously darting to her phone.

Paige looked at Azzi’s phone and then back at her. Both their eyes darted back and forth.

Paige lunged for the phone at the same time as Azzi, beating her there.

Flipping it over she unlocked it and smirked when she saw the edit of her playing on the screen.

Azzi threw a hand to cover her face.

“I’m never gonna hear the end of this am I?” Azzi asked, burying her face in the pillow.

“Not if you want me to help you baby.” Paige says, putting down her phone with a smirk.

She pulled Azzi's hand away from her face, using her fingers to tilt her chin towards her.

“Missed this pretty face so much.” Paige whispered, leaning forward and climbing onto the bed so she was now hovering over Azzi.

Paige ran her hand along Azzi’s neck, moving it up and tracing along her jaw.

She leaned forward and placed a soft open mouth kiss on the soft skin under her ear.

Azzi let out a whimper, her hips wiggling as Paige adjusted her position, her legs straddling either side of her.

“So needy baby.” Paige whispered as she sucked a little on Azzi’s skin, releasing it and licking over the reddened skin with her tongue.

“Please.” Azzi moaned as Paige's tongue licked at her lip, dipping inside.

Paige pulled her tongue away, sitting up slightly so she could look at Azzi’s desperate state underneath her.

“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” Paige whispered, as she watched Azzi’s lips pucker in the air, reaching out for Paige's.

Azzi’s eyes opened as she pouted.

Paige laughed, her finger tugging at her puffy bottom lip.

“Do u want me to help you finish or should I just let you finish yourself off.” Paige said simply, her finger running back down and connecting with her neck as Paige's lips connected back to Azzi’s.

As their tongues massaged against each other, Paige smirked against her.

Paige softly bit against Azzi’s lip, tugging at it and listening to the soft sigh that left her.

When she finally sat up, Azzi whined.

“Paigeee.” She whined.

“Fine if your gonna be difficult, you’re gonna keep fucking your sled and we’ll see how far you get.” Paige decided, sliding backwards off Azzi’s bed, and facing her.

Azzi’s face turned red as she watched Paige needily stare at her throbbing pussy.

“Don’t be shy now baby- all u have to tell me is how much better I am at making you finish.” Paige said with a smirk, her eyes running over her folds.

Azzi, being the stubborn person she was, refused to let Paige win this.

She rolled her eyes and moved her fingers back down to her pussy, running them through the wetness that had collected near her hole.

She moaned at the much needed contact, and began to rub her fingers in small circles over her clit.

“Look at me while you do it.” Paige said her voice was soft but firm.

Azzi looked up at her slowly, her breath shakily.

When her eyes met Paige's, and she saw how dilated they were-drunk on the sight of her pussy, she almost came right from that.

“You know if I was touching you right now, I would have had you cum by now.” She said confidently, smirking as she watched Azzi crumble under her eye contact.

Azzi blushed even more, looking away from Paige and focusing back on pleasing herself.

Her fingers moved away from her clit, traveling down and dipping into her entrance.

She inserted two of them gently, thrusting and curling them against herself.

She let out a seductive moan that sent shivers down Paige's spine.

Paige wanted nothing more than to shove Azzi’s hand aside and take her right there, but she was also stubborn.

She watched helplessly as Azzi’s fingers curled into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, speeding up.

Azzi moaned, sitting up on her elbow to give herself a better angle.

As much as Azzi didn’t want to give in, she knew she wouldn’t even have to. She knew paige.

If Paige wanted to eat, she would eat.

Azzi looked up at her, “Paige.” She moaned, staring at her intently until Paige's eyes- that were entranced by her fingers- found hers.

“Fuck it.” Paige said practically jumping on her, ripping her hand away from herself and diving her mouth into Azzi’s pussy.

Azzi let out a laugh as Paige tongue tickled her inner thigh.

“Fucking always get ur way don’t u princess.” Paige said as her tongue ran against Azzi’s wetness, spreading it across her pussy.

Azzi moaned loudly, her hand coming and wrapping in Paige's hair tugging her closer to her core.

Paige dipped her tongue into her whole, thrusting it in a couple times as her finger played with her clit.

Azzi let out a whine, needing more stimulation.

Paige brought her tongue up to her clit, exchanging the pressure of her tongue, for her pressure of her fingers, now filling her.

As Paige sucked and pulled on Azzi’s clit, her 3 fingers went to work, thrusting in and out.

Azzi, who had already gotten herself very close before, was now gripping at Paige's scalp, Paige's fingers slamming against her walls.

“Fuck P.” She moaned as paige lapped at her clit.

Azzi adjusted her position, sitting up on her elbows to watch her as her fingers stilled inside her.

Feeling Azzi’s eyes on her, Paige looked up, still pulling on her clit.

The sight of Paige's big blue eyes completely drunk off her pussy, the feeling of her fingers thrusting back into her, and her tongue flicking at her clit, was all too much for her.

“Fuck paige I’m gonna cum.”

Paige smirked as she could feel Azzi’s legs shake.

Her fingers stilted inside her, and she lifted her head to her ear, letting her lips tickle it.

“Tell me how good I am to you.” She paused, pressing her lips to Azzi’s ear. Azzi moaned, the throbbing between her legs, too much for her to take.

“Fuck need you to fuck me paige please.” She whined, giving in as Paige sucked at her neck.

“Tell me how much better I am at fucking you.” She whispered, her tongue soothing the now purple skin.

Paige moaned into her ear and Azzi caved, “fuck you know my body so well baby. You’re so good, please continue.” Azzi whispered, her hips thrusting up to get some type of friction.

“If you insist.” Paige winked, her three fingers diving back down and fucking into her.

Azzi moaned, her abs flexing as she hunched over from the pressure of Paige's fingers hitting at her walls.

Azzi moaned, and Paige's fingers dove deeper inside.

Paige’s other hand grabbed Azzi’s stomach, pressing on it to stabilize herself.

Azzi felt her finger brush her g spot, and the band in her stomach snap.

Paige lowered herself down so she was angled at her pussy as she could hear her fingers squelching as Azzi released.

She drank up every bit of liquid that spilled from Azzi’s cunt.

“tastes so good, baby.” “Missed her so bad.” She said as she pulled out her fingers, letting more of Azzi’s cum spill out of her.

Azzi was a pile of moans, and Paige eventually pulled away from her cunt, climbing back up to connect with Azzi’s lips, letting her taste herself.

Paige swallowed Azzi’s moans as their tongues fought together.

After Azzi had caught her breath, she pulled Paige away from her.

“Hey just cuz I gave in and let you fuck me doesn’t mean I wouldn’t be able to do it on my own.” Azzi assured, her eyes finding Paige's.

“Whatever you say baby.” Paige said, snuggling herself into the crook of Azzi’s arm.

“Wait no.” Azzi said, pushing her off of her.

Paige's head fell onto the bed.

“What are you talking about Azzi?” Paige sighed.

Azzi climbed on top of Paige so she was straddling her.

“Why don’t you think I could fuck myself as good as you do?” Azzi asked, holding Paige's arms down so she couldn't resist her.

“Nah I know u could, I’m just better.” She replied cheesing.

Azzi teasingly shoved her face away.

“Ya we’ll see about that.” Azzi said as Paige's face contorted into a confused look.

Azzi pulled up Paige's shirt, placing soft kisses above her sports bra.

Paige moaned as her teeth nipped gently at her skin.

Azzi pulled down her bra, exposing her hardened nipples.

Azzi looked up to find Paige already looking at her with big needy eyes.

Without looking away, Azzi leaned down and wrapped her mouth around Paige's nipple, pulling on it and releasing it with a pop.

She watched as Paige moaned, throwing her head back.

Azzi smirked as she left her bra up, keeping her tits out as she trailed down to Paige's waist band.

“Lift up for me baby.” Azzi said as she dipped her fingers into the band of her sweats.

Paige lifted her hips so Azzi could pull off her sweats.

Azzi threw them behind her, leaning down to level herself with Paige's pussy that was still covered by her boxers.

Azzi ran a finger over her clothes pussy feeling the slick through it.

“God Azzi.” Paige whimpered as Azzi pulled down her boxers too.

“Need you so bad princess.” Paige said, tangling her fingers in Azzi’s curls pulling her mouth towards her slick.

“Oh is that right?” Azzi said, her breath hitting against Paige's wet clit, sending a shiver through her body.

Paige whined at the feeling against her slick.

She nodded, but Azzi wasn’t satisfied.

“Well maybe u should just fuck yourself since you’re so much better than me.” Azzi teased, running her fingers on her inner thigh, dangerously close to her aching clit.

“Bruh come on you know I didn’t mean it baby.” Paige whimpered as Azzi’s fingers traced over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Maybe but I want you to tell me.” She whispered seductively, triggering a submissive reaction in Paige's body.

“Need your pretty fingers so bad sweet girl.” Paige moaned.

Azzi could have cum again just from Paige's words, instead she licked a long stripe up her pussy, rewarding her for good behavior.

Paige moaned, shifting her body so her hips were elevated and pressing into Azzi’s mouth.

Azzi switched to kitten licks against her clit, motivated by her words.

“Such a good girl- doing me so well.” Paige moaned, running her fingers through Azzi’s curls, pulling them back and away from her face.

Azzi sucked on her clit, and her fingers ran through her wetness, dipping into her hole.

“Please baby- need you so bad pretty.” Paige moaned as her fingers inched deeper into her slowly.

Azzi felt Paige's breath shift underneath her.

“Ya you like that don’t you. Just love fucking this pussy huh baby?” Paige growled.

Azzi didn’t answer, instead she responded by thrusting her fingers deeper into Paige's pussy, thrusting them in and out.

Paige groaned, her hand pushing Azzi’s head into her pussy so she was sucking on it harder.

“Right there fuck baby you’re so good.” Paige moaned as Azzi’s fingers pounded against her g spot.

Azzi smirked against her clit, Paige's hand directing her movements so her tongue was now rubbing up and down against it.

With her fingers still fucking deep inside her walls, and her tongue sucking and lapping at her clit, paige could feel the orgasm closing in on her.

“Gonna cum baby…fuck.” Paige moaned, her legs shaking around Azzi's body.

Azzi wrapped her arms around Paige's thighs, pulling her so she was closer to her.

Azzi sat up a little, pulling paige into her lap to change her angle, fucking her fingers deeper inside her, letting paige’s moans fill the air.

Paige moaned loudly as Azzi’s teeth grazed her sensitive clit.

Before she could even realize what was happening, her cum was pouring out of her and Azzi was greedily drinking it up.

Paige was still out of breath as Azzi rode out her high.

“You like the way I taste mama. you’re so perfect. Such a good girl eating me so well.” Paige says as she pulled a strand of Azzi’s curls out of her face and pulled it behind Azzi’s ear.

Azzi continued to fuck her through her high until paige was physically pushing her away and pulling her up so she was laying her on her stomach.

“You did so good pretty.” Paige whispered again to Azzi's cheek as she rubbed small circles against her bare skin.

Azzi sighed contently as she nuzzled deeper into Paige's chest, letting the warmth of Paige's skin surround her.

#azzi fudd #pazzi #paige bueckers #pazzi fics #pazzi fic #paige bueckers smut #paige x azzi #i love azzi fudd #azzi and paige #paige and azzi #azzi fudd smut

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royal-movingco · 3 months ago

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walters-transfer-and-moving · 10 months ago

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Walter's Transfer & Moving | Moving company | Storage Services in Los Angeles CA

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chrissv4mp · 7 months ago

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౨ৎ i feel more and more like i was made for you

— word count : 1.3k

★ sum: billie flies across the country just to see you.

☆ pair: billie eilish × fem!reader

★ cws: some language, mentions of a long-distance relationship(?), fluff, a little suggestiveness but no smut.

☆ a/n: horrible at writing fluff, so js bear with me🙏🙏 this is more so a blurb than anything else 🙁

— tags: @livialifesblog @her-favorite @mseilishmwah @mxqdii @sophloveswomen @devynscomet @wiidfi0wer33 @muchloveforhacker @slutforsturniolos @br4ttyeilish @xoluvx

my navigation...

"Hey, mama," Billie speaks through the phone, her voice raspy from the late hour of night. She stayed up just for this call, the call that you and her had every other day. Her blue eyes stayed focused on your own e/c ones, smiling sweetly as her lips parted again, "How was your day?"

You gave her a shrug of your shoulders before you replied, a sigh falling past your lips, "Ts' fine. Would be better if you were with me, though." You frown, earning a quiet chuckle from her end of the line as she catches onto your mood.

The sound of rustling comes from her end as she switches her position on her bed, the bed that she's told you she would cuddle you in every night if you lived with her. The distance between you two hurt, but it's not like either of you could really move. Billie lived in Los Angeles her whole life, and you lived all the way in New York, so it wasn't particularly the easiest thing to do emotionally or physically.

"I'm always with you, 'member?" She holds her wrist up, a small chain with your initial on the front on display for you to see. You had a matching one, but with her own initial, on the opposite wrist. You remember the day she sent it because that week was probably the worst one you've had, and your girlfriends small gesture had lightened it and made it so much better, "Always, m'kay?"

"I want you in my bed, baby. Need you in my arms." You whine, tossing your head back against the pillows. Billie sighs at your saddened expression, running a hand through her hair as thoughts begin to flood into her mind one by one. Your lips curve into a smile as you watch her eyes drift away from the phone, chuckling as you catch sight of the face that she always made whenever she was deep in thought.

"What're you thinkin' about?" She just hums in response, ocean blue eyes moving back to her phone as she smiles at you. She laughs as you continue to stare, eyes never moving for a second as they stay focused on her beautiful face. Her lips were so pink, so full, and you just wanted to kiss them at all times, "What I'm thinking about is why you're staring at me like you wanna devour me,"

You did. You wanted to devour her every night. If you had the chance, you don't think you'd be able to stop, "Well, maybe I do." Your lip was tugged in between your teeth, your face flushing a light pink as you eyed your girlfriend through the phone. Before her lips could part to speak, Finneas' voice came from her line.

Her head turned to the side, and you almost moaned at just the sight of her neck. It was so clear and empty, and you just wanted to mark it up and let everyone know she was— "Fuck, I have to go. I'm sorry, baby girl, I promise I'll call you later, okay?" A quiet sigh passes through your lips as you nod, giving her a small smile as you both mutter your, "I love you's."

"Fuck," Is the first thing you hear your girlfriend say when you pick up the phone, eyes meeting the view of her hair thrown up into a messy ponytail and her face covered with a disposable mask. When you chuckle, she finally looks at you through the phone, "Baby! Hi, I missed you so fuckin' much,"

Your cheeks flush a pink hue at her confession, a cheesy smile finding its way onto your face as your lips part, "It's only been a night, Bils," You speak, taking your eyes off of her for the first time to look around at her surroundings, she wasn't in any place that you recognized, and—was that a backpack she was wearing? "Where are you?"

Billie tenses at the question, unnoticeable from the bad connection on her part. It was never this bad, so that was another thing that had you wondering, "Nowhere." She says quickly, a mischievous smile on her face as she brings the phone closer to her face, "Stop peeking, you creep." The sound of your laugh makes her own lips part in laughter as she rolls her eyes playfully.

"Just wanted to know why my beautiful girlfriend is all covered up, that's all. Also wondering why I can't see you that well," You whine in faux sadness, and Billie just shakes her head as she giggles. The question still lingers between you two as she makes her way through the unknown place, her eyes only paying attention to you every time she hears you speak, "I still have your location, y'know."

"Nuh-uh," She mutters, fixing her mask as she finally takes a seat at her destination, "You're a little pain, y'know that?" Billie smiles, throwing her hood over head before moving her mask to rest below her chin, "Impatient little thing, you are." She points through the phone, and you just scoff as your eyebrows furrow.

Her line goes quiet before you can protest, and your suspicions about her location only rise. Her line glitches, and then the call disconnects, leaving you with nothing but confusion and worry. Before anything else, you go to your messages and click on her contact, shooting her a quick text, "be safe, u got me on my toes over here"

The doorbell rings, and you tense up in surprise as your head turns to the front door. Your limbs are sprawled out all over the couch as you bite on your fingernail in nervousness, the unsettling feeling from the call with Billie a few hours prior still lingering in the cold air of your house. Your phone hasn't rung since then, and she didn't answer any your texts.

Maybe you were a little paranoid, but this was the first time she'd ever gone ghost on you. As you stand up from the couch and pass by the window, you catch a glimpse of a black backpack strap. When you turn the doorknob and open the door, you swear you almost scream.

Billie stood right on your doorstep, a big smile on her face as she stares over at you, "Is this the right house?" She mutters playfully, and before she can even laugh, you grab her hand and pull her into your embrace. Quiet sobs pass by your lips as you bury your head into her shoulder, holding her tightly as she slowly rocks you side to side.

"Yeah—fuck—It's definitely the right house." You whisper, sniffling before you pull away just enough to be face to face with her. You don't waste another second before your own lips meet hers in a passionate, loving kiss. Neither of you feel the need to pull away, even for air as you feel her hand in your hair pull you impossibly closer, "God, I can't believe you're here, baby."

Billie smiles, pecking your lips once again before moving her backpack off her shoulders and tossing it to the side carefully, "You better believe it," She whispers, eyes moving all around your face as she stares at you in awe, "So pretty. My pretty girl." Her lips don't seem to miss a spot on your face as she showers you in kisses, giggles escaping as you bathe in the affection you craved all the moments before this.

"Now, I remember you saying you wanted me in your bed?" She smiles, eyes darkening as she pulls away to take in the sight of you fully. She practically devours you with her eyes, and you can't even express what you feel before your lips come crashing onto hers again. The door is pushed closed as you push her against it. Tonight was only one of the very few nights that you would finally get to taste her, so why not take every chance you get?

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lila-lou · 4 months ago

Text

✨Houston - Pt. 1/2✨

Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 6986

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Jensen had been gone for his new show in Los Angeles, filming for what felt like an eternity — over ten weeks now, with no real break in sight. The production schedule was tighter than ever due to unexpected delays when one of the main actors fell sick, which caused the entire shoot to be pushed back. You hadn’t seen him for over two months, and the distance was starting to weigh on you. There was no chance for quick weekend visits or even mid-week surprises. Everything had changed with this new project.

In those long ten weeks, Jensen had managed to get only three days off, and he used them to fly back to see his kids. You couldn’t fault him for that and you understood how much he missed them. Still, the loneliness lingered like an unwelcome shadow. Tomorrow, though, was supposed to be different. He was finally coming home, even if just for a week, and you had been counting down the days like a lifeline.

But now, as you stood by the large window overlooking the ocean, something inside you twisted with unease. The darkening skies in the distance mirrored the storm brewing in your mind. The TV in the background blared with warnings of severe weather rolling in from the Gulf, interrupting your thoughts with each alert. The meteorologist spoke of high winds and heavy rain, not quite enough to warrant an evacuation, but enough to make you feel a creeping sense of dread.

It had been two years since you and Jensen made the decision to move to Houston, settling into this beautiful, sprawling house right on the coastline. At the time, it seemed perfect. The ocean view, the sunsets over the water, the space and serenity. But now, as the storm warnings flashed across the screen, you wondered if you’d made the right decision. You had never been good with storms. The sound of the wind howling, the sharp crack of thunder — they had always sent shivers down your spine, leaving you feeling vulnerable and anxious.

The move to the Gulf of Mexico seemed impulsive now, in hindsight. Sure, Jensen loved it here, and the house was gorgeous, but you had always known this fear lurked deep inside you. Storms unsettled you, and the thought of facing one alone, without him by your side, only made it worse.

Your stomach twisted in knots as you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the gray clouds gather on the horizon.

You groaned, feeling the frustration bubble up inside you. The anxiety gnawed at you, and the tension in your shoulders made it hard to relax. “Of all days”, you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself away from the window.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend’s number, knowing she’d be awake even though she lived halfway across the world. Spain. Never having to deal with the heavy weather nonsense like hurricanes or tornadoes. You often teased her about how lucky she was to live in a country where the worst thing she had to worry about was a hot summer day or maybe some rain in the winter.

As you walked toward the kitchen, waiting for her to pick up, the soft ring of the phone seemed to be swallowed by the growing rumble of thunder outside. Your eyes drifted to the oven as you remembered the batch of chocolate cookies you’d put in earlier. Well, they were more Jensen’s favorite than yours.

The phone finally clicked, and your friend’s cheerful voice came through the speaker. “Hola, chica! What’s up?”.

You let out a heavy sigh as you reached for the kettle, flicking it on to make yourself some tea. “Hey… just trying to calm my nerves. We’ve got a storm rolling in, and you know how much I hate this stuff”.

“Storm? Ugh, I don’t envy you”, she replied with a sympathetic tone. “It’s like a whole other world over there, isn’t it? Here I am, in sunny Spain, sipping wine and you’re getting hit with storms again. Why did you agree to move to the Gulf in the first place?”.

You chuckled, a bit of bitterness in your voice as you pulled out a mug from the cabinet. “I have no idea. Jensen wanted the ocean, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know me—anything to make him happy. But every time a storm rolls in, I swear I regret it”.

As the kettle clicked off, you poured the hot water over the tea bag, the steam curling up into the air. You leaned against the counter, glancing at the oven timer. Just a few more minutes on the cookies. “I mean, I get it”, you continued, twirling the tea bag absentmindedly in the water. “He loves it here, and the house is beautiful, but I just can’t shake this fear. Every time the weather turns bad, I get this pit in my stomach. And it doesn’t help that he’s been away for so long. It’s hard to deal with all this on my own”.

She sighed on the other end of the line, her voice softening. “How long has he been gone this time?”.

You swallowed, staring down at the swirling tea in your mug. “Ten weeks”, you murmured, feeling the weight of that number pressing down on you. “Ten long weeks, and in all that time, he’s only had three days off. I get it, he used those to see his kids, which is exactly what he should do. But it’s just been… hard”.

Your friend stayed quiet for a moment, as if letting the words sink in. She knew how much you hated when Jensen was away for extended periods, especially when life got difficult. “Ten weeks… damn”, she finally said, her tone laced with sympathy. “That’s rough, chica. I know you’re strong, but that’s a lot, especially with this storm hitting now”.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling the tension rise again as you heard another distant rumble of thunder. “It’s just been one thing after another lately”, you admitted, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “And now this storm… it’s not supposed to be anything major, but you know me. I hate this stuff. The wind, the rain, it freaks me out. Always has”.

Your friend’s voice softened even more. “I remember. Back when we used to talk late at night during storms, you’d be on edge, counting down the minutes until it passed. I can’t imagine being by the ocean during one”.

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, and I’m here, in this huge house, by myself. Well, I’ve got Jensen’s cookies”, you added with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but the fear still lingered beneath the surface.

“Wish I could teleport myself over there and keep you company”, she said warmly. “Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be. Maybe I could distract you with all my boring Spain stories. Sun, siestas, and sangria… You know, the usual”.

You smiled, even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than storm prep and waiting for the power to go out”.

Another sigh escaped your friend. “You need a break from all this. Having him around will help, I’m sure”.

“Yeah, I hope so too”, you whispered, the longing for Jensen’s presence making your chest tighten. The thought of him walking through the door tomorrow, even for just a week, was the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretched just a little too long, and you knew your friend was working up to something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Have you… told him yet?”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. The unspoken truth between you, the one you had been avoiding for weeks. You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the familiar wave of anxiety washed over you again.

“No”, you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, your voice breaking slightly. “Not yet”.

Your friend didn’t rush to respond, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You could almost hear the sympathy through the phone, her understanding of how complicated things had become. She knew you too well—knew the fear that had been gnawing at you since you first saw the two pink lines on the test, and how you had been holding onto that secret ever since, waiting for the right moment to break the news.

If there even was a “right moment”.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cool kitchen counter, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down on your chest. “It’s not exactly something I can drop over the phone”, you added softly, more to yourself than to her.

“I know”, she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s definitely face-to-face news”.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes drifting toward the window where the dark clouds were still gathering. The irony wasn’t lost on you — the brewing storm outside wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one in your heart. Jensen had been so clear from the beginning, right from the very start of your relationship. He loved his kids, adored being their father, but he was done. He didn’t want more. He had been through the sleepless nights, the diapers, the chaos of raising young children, and he had made it crystal clear that he had no desire to go back to that. No more babies. No more starting over.

And now here you were, facing the very thing he never wanted. The very thing that might push him away, might change everything between you.

“I just…”. Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words. “He was so sure, you know? About not wanting more kids. He told me from the beginning that he was done, and I accepted that. I was okay with it because I love him. But now…”. You trailed off, biting your lip to stop your emotions from spilling over.

“Now, things are different”, she finished softly, filling in the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know how he’s going to react. What if he’s angry? What if this is the one thing that changes everything? I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t hide this forever. And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to get”.

Your friend was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with warmth and understanding. “You’re going to have to tell him, eventually. And yes, it’s probably going to be hard. But you know Jensen. He loves you. Whatever his initial reaction, that won’t change. He might need time to process it, but he’s not the type to just walk away”.

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes as a tear finally slipped free. “I know… I know that. But it’s just—he’s been gone for so long, and everything’s already so strained. What if this is the thing that breaks us?”.

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment you wondered if the call had dropped. But then your friend spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “This won’t break you. Not if you’re honest with him. It’s going to be tough, but you can’t carry this alone. You deserve to have someone beside you through all of it. And… he deserves to know”.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. “I just… I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how he’ll react, and I’m scared of what this will mean for us”.

“I know”, she said softly. “But you’re strong, and you can do this. And no matter what, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone”.

You nodded again, grateful for her support even across the ocean. The sound of the timer beeping in the background startled you, pulling you from the heaviness of the moment. The cookies were done. You forced a small smile, trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy that baking had given you.

“I’ll tell him when he comes home”, you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “Face to face. It’s the only way”.

“You’re doing the right thing”, your friend assured you. “He loves you, and he’s going to be there for you, no matter what. Just give him time”.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that”.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied warmly. “Now, go enjoy those cookies, okay? And try not to worry too much about tomorrow. One storm at a time”.

You laughed softly, a bittersweet sound. “Yeah… one storm at a time”.

As you hung up the phone and pulled the warm cookies from the oven, the weight of what lay ahead still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Jensen would come home, and with him, the conversation that would change everything. You could only hope that, like the storm outside, it would pass without too much damage.

You placed the tray of cookies on the counter, their rich chocolate scent filled the kitchen, momentarily grounding you in something warm and familiar. You stared down at them, freshly baked and perfectly round, thinking about how Jensen always joked that your cookies were better than any fancy dessert. It was such a small thing, but right now, it felt like a lifeline—a fleeting reminder of the simplicity that used to define your relationship before things became so complicated.

You couldn’t help but think back to when everything was easier, when his laugh could chase away any worry you had, and when you both felt invincible. But now, that invincibility felt fragile.

The soft rumble of thunder echoed through the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller in the vastness of the empty space.

You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the cookies, your mind already racing ahead to tomorrow. You could picture his face, the familiar crinkle of his eyes as he walked through the door, probably exhausted but happy to see you. And you knew that the moment would come when you'd have to break the news. You’d have to see his reaction, whatever it would be—whether it was surprise, disbelief, or the worst thing you could imagine… disappointment.

You closed your eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. Disappointment. That was what scared you the most.

No more kids.

He loved his children fiercely, but he had drawn that line firmly in the sand from the start. The thought of him looking at you with anything less than love in his eyes, anything less than the warmth and affection you had grown so used to, made your stomach churn.

The truth was, you hadn’t planned this. Neither of you had. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. He was in the middle of filming a new project, already stretched thin from the demands of his career. You had been doing your best to hold things together, to be patient, to give him the space he needed while you dealt with this on your own. But now the secret was too big to keep any longer.

And still, you hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully process the reality of it. The tiny life growing inside of you felt surreal, like a secret you were keeping even from yourself. There were moments when you could push it to the back of your mind, pretend it wasn’t real, but those moments were becoming fewer and further between. You couldn’t escape the truth any longer.

Tomorrow, he would be home. Tomorrow, you would have to tell him.

You placed your hands on your stomach, your fingers resting lightly, almost protectively, over the slight curve that had begun to form. It was still small, easy enough to hide under loose clothing, but you couldn’t hide it forever. And you didn’t want to. Not really. You wanted to share this with him, to let him in on the secret you had been carrying for weeks. But the fear… the fear of how he would react made it feel like an impossible task.

You took a deep, shaky breath and whispered into the quiet kitchen, as if saying it aloud would somehow prepare you for what was coming. “I’m pregnant”.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, and saying them aloud didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. But they were real. There was no taking them back now.

As you stood there, staring out the window into the growing storm, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he be angry? Shocked? Maybe he wouldn’t even know what to say at first. You played out a hundred scenarios in your mind, none of them feeling quite right. You couldn’t predict how he would react, but you knew that this was a conversation that would change everything. There was no going back once the truth was out.

The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and you shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. You reached for your tea and held the mug in your hands, seeking comfort from the warmth.

Just then, the phone rang, its sudden chime cutting through the quiet tension in the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flash across the screen. Jensen.

For a moment, you just stared at it, your stomach flipping nervously. The sound of his name on the screen, so familiar, so comforting, felt like a jolt to your already raw nerves. He wasn’t supposed to call until later, closer to his flight time. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey”, you greeted softly, trying to steady your voice, but you couldn’t help the slight quiver in it.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Jensen’s warm, familiar voice filled the line, and for just a second, you felt a rush of relief. “You okay? You sound a little off”.

You bit your lip, glancing out the window again, watching the heavy clouds roll in. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just, you know, storm’s coming in, and I’m alone in the house. I’m probably overreacting, as usual”.

He chuckled softly, that deep, rich sound that used to make you feel safe. “You and storms, huh? You’ve always hated them. It’s just a little rain though, right? Nothing to worry about”.

“Yeah, just rain”, you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as the truth of what you were really afraid of sat heavy in your chest. But you couldn’t tell him now, not like this, over the phone. Not when he was hours away. Not when he was expecting you to be waiting at home, smiling, with cookies on the counter.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the tension in Jensen’s voice, like he wanted to say more but was holding back. Then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic, laced with that familiar warmth that you loved so much.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to filming in a minute”, he said gently, “but I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay”.

Your heart sank a little at his words. Even though you hadn’t expected this call, the idea of him hanging up so soon, when you were craving any sense of normalcy, left you feeling hollow. But you forced a small smile into your voice, pushing aside the anxiety for his sake.

“Okay”, you replied softly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. The house is safe, and I’ve got enough cookies to last a week, even if the power goes out”.

He laughed again, that low, comforting sound that almost made you forget about the storm inside you. “You’re always prepared, huh?”.

“Trying to be”, you said, though the weight of the secret you were carrying made you feel anything but.

There was another pause, and you heard some shuffling in the background—probably crew members calling for him. He sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the airport later, okay?”.

“Thanks, Jensen”, you whispered, the sound of his name bringing a soft warmth to your heart despite everything. “I’ll be okay. Be safe, alright?”.

“I will. You hang in there, alright? I’ll talk to you in a few hours”. His voice softened, and you could picture him standing there, probably with that concerned look he got when he knew you weren’t telling him everything.

“I will”, you promised, though inside, you knew it was going to be a long few hours.

“Love you”, he added quickly, and those words, like always, wrapped around you like a blanket.

“Love you too”, you whispered, knowing how much you meant it, but feeling the weight of the untold truth settling even heavier on your chest.

Then the call ended, and the silence rushed back into the room, the steady beat of the rain against the windows the only sound left.

You stood there for a moment, gripping the phone like it was an anchor. The storm outside was getting louder, the wind picking up, rattling the windows just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As evening fell, you found yourself standing in front of the large living room windows again, staring out at the angry ocean. The waves were crashing violently against the shore, each one louder than the last, and the dark sky was lit up intermittently by flashes of lightning far in the distance. For the past hour, heavy rain had been pounding against the house, making any thoughts of sleep seem impossible. You hadn’t even bothered trying to settle down—there was no way you could rest with the storm growing more intense by the minute.

The wind had picked up, howling through the trees that lined the edge of your property, bending them until they looked as though they would snap. The way the branches thrashed made your chest tighten with anxiety. This was more than just a little rain. The storm outside was quickly turning into something far more dangerous.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the creeping sense of fear that had been building inside you all day. It was hard to focus on anything else—the looming conversation with Jensen, the storm that seemed intent on tearing apart everything outside your door. You tried to drown out the worry by turning on the TV for the latest updates, hoping for some reassurance, but just as you were about to settle on the couch, the power flickered.

And then, everything went dark.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood frozen in place, listening to the sudden silence that filled the room. Even the hum of the refrigerator had gone quiet. No lights, no TV, no comforting glow from the oven clock. You fumbled for your phone, but a quick glance at the screen showed what you had feared: no signal. The storm had knocked out the power, and with it, your connection to the outside world.

You were alone.

A cold knot of fear twisted in your stomach. The walls around you felt suffocating, and the sound of the storm outside—the rain pounding against the windows, the wind howling like a creature trying to claw its way inside—made the house feel smaller than it had ever felt before. The darkness seemed endless, swallowing up the comforting familiarity of your home, and all you could do was stand there, staring at your reflection in the glass as the storm raged beyond.

And then, your thoughts went to Jensen.

Somewhere far away, sitting in an airport, blissfully unaware of how much the storm had escalated. The last time you had spoken, he had laughed, reassured you that it was just a little rain. But this… this was something else. You wondered if he had seen the news, if he knew how bad it was getting here. You couldn’t even warn him now, couldn’t tell him to stay safe, to stay put.

Meanwhile, in LA, Jensen sat in the crowded terminal, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through old texts from you, his mind somewhere between exhaustion and the anticipation of finally coming home. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours, his flight delayed over and over again. The storm back home had been on his mind, but nothing in the forecast had seemed serious when he last checked. Just some heavy rain, maybe a little wind, but nothing out of the ordinary for Houston this time of year.

That was until an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers, the sound snapping him back to the present. The terminal buzzed with confusion as people around him started looking at their phones, murmurs rising into a collective hum of concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that all flights to Houston have been canceled due to an unexpected hurricane forming off the Gulf. Please make your way to the customer service desks for further instructions”.

Jensen’s heart sank as the words hit him. Hurricane? He immediately stood, his fingers instinctively dialing your number, but there was no response. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but each call went straight to voicemail.

His stomach churned with worry, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had told you it was just a little rain, that everything would be fine. And now, a hurricane was bearing down on you, and he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t even warn you.

The flight staff were swamped, passengers crowding around them, demanding answers, but Jensen didn’t care about the chaos around him. All he could think about was you—sitting in that house by the ocean, alone, probably terrified, with no way to reach him. He could see it in his mind, how you would be pacing around the house, trying to stay calm while the storm raged on outside. You hated storms. You always had.

And now, this.

He looked at the flight board, the bright red letters spelling out “CANCELED”, and felt utterly helpless. There was no way out tonight, no way to get to you. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried calling one more time, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Jensen clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing through all the possible options. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit here, waiting, while the storm got worse. He needed to get to you, somehow, but there was no plan, no idea of how bad it really was back in Houston.

Meanwhile, back in the house, you stared out into the blackness beyond the window, the storm surging with more force than you could have imagined. The trees bent and cracked, the waves crashing against the shore with an almost terrifying strength. You had never felt so vulnerable. You had never felt so alone.

And Jensen, the one person you needed most, was miles away, waiting in an airport for a flight that wasn’t coming.

You pressed your hand against the cold glass, feeling the world outside crumble under the force of nature, and inside, you crumbled a little too.

The wind had reached a deafening pitch, and every gust felt like it was trying to tear the house apart. You could barely think over the sound of it—like a train barreling through, unstoppable and unforgiving. The trees outside the windows were bent almost horizontal, their branches flailing wildly in the storm’s fury. You could hear debris slamming against the house, the sharp cracks of branches breaking, and the deep, menacing roar of the ocean as the waves crashed closer and closer.

You glanced out the window and felt your blood run cold. The waves were rising—towering, dark, and violent—crashing up the shore with a terrifying force, each one creeping closer and closer to your porch. The stilts that your house rested on were supposed to protect you, but right now, even those massive beams felt fragile against the raw power of the storm.

A sudden surge of panic washed over you, stronger than any wave outside. You couldn't stay here, not with the ocean threatening to swallow everything. Your breath came faster, chest tightening as the reality of the hurricane fully hit you. This was no ordinary storm; this was the nightmare you’d always feared would come to life when you moved here. You needed to get away from the windows, away from the view of the violent ocean that made your heart pound with terror.

Without thinking, you spun on your heel and practically ran through the house, your footsteps quick and uneven as the wind rattled the walls. You headed straight for the guest room—one of the few rooms that didn’t face the ocean. It was smaller, tucked away in the corner of the house, but right now it felt like the only place that could give you even the slightest illusion of safety.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached the door and pushed it open, the beam of your phone trembling slightly from your shaking hands. You slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing hard, trying to steady yourself. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the phone, but at least here, you couldn’t see the ocean rising, threatening, looming.

Still, the storm raged around you, the wind howling and shaking the house. The walls creaked under the force of the gusts, and you swore you could feel the entire structure sway. The sound of the ocean never left your mind, though, the memory of those waves reaching higher and higher still vivid in your thoughts. You sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could ward off the fear creeping through your veins.

You needed Jensen. His presence would have grounded you, would have been the anchor you needed right now to feel even remotely safe. But he wasn’t here. You were alone. Alone in a house you weren’t sure could withstand the storm.

And then, the overwhelming sense of dread came crashing in again, accompanied by the helplessness of being completely cut off. No phone signal, no lights, no contact. The only thing louder than the storm outside was the storm inside you—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing feeling of isolation.

Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the crowded airport terminal, his phone in his hands, staring at the same unchanging screen. The calls weren’t going through. He tried again, his heart thudding in his chest, each failed attempt making the knot of worry tighten further. Every time the call went straight to voicemail, it felt like a blow to his gut.

“Come on… pick up, baby”, he muttered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But still, nothing. Only that dead silence on the other end.

He felt sick. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. He’d brushed off your fears, reassured you that it was just rain. You’d been nervous, but he had laughed it off, told you it was no big deal. “Just a little rain”, he’d said. Now, with a hurricane bearing down on Houston, those words felt like a cruel joke.

Jensen’s leg bounced anxiously as he stared at his phone, willing it to connect. He knew you were scared—he knew how much you hated storms, how even a thunderstorm would have you on edge. But this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was a hurricane, and you were alone, sitting in that house by the ocean, probably terrified out of your mind.

He had never felt so helpless. All the money in the world, all his connections, none of it mattered now. He was grounded, unable to fly home, stuck in a terminal while the storm raged on miles away, separating him from you. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. Were you okay? Was the house holding up? Had you found a safe place? Or were you sitting there, terrified, with no one to comfort you?

Jensen pressed the call button again, even though he knew what would happen. He didn’t care. He had to keep trying, had to do something.

When the call went to voicemail again, he groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. He had promised to keep you safe, to be there when you needed him, and now, in the middle of the worst storm either of you had ever faced, he was stuck a thousand miles away, powerless to help.

All he could think about was your voice, that soft quiver in it when you’d mentioned the storm earlier. He should have heard the fear in your words. He should have known. But he’d been so focused on work, so focused on getting through the day, that he hadn’t really listened.

Jensen felt the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, heavier with each failed attempt to reach you. He needed to hear your voice, needed to know you were okay. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the storm was only getting worse.

He glanced up at the airport monitors, the word CANCELED in bright red letters next to his flight number. His chest tightened. He wasn’t getting out of here tonight. He wasn’t getting to you.

For the first time in a long time, Jensen felt completely powerless.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The wind outside had grown impossibly louder, the relentless howl of the storm wrapping itself around the house. You sat on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, listening to the chaos unfold outside. Then, you heard something—a deep, ominous rumbling that shook the walls, so loud and unfamiliar that it made your heart leap into your throat.

Your breath caught. What was that? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what had caused the sound, but it sent a wave of terror rushing through you. For a moment, you stayed frozen in place, every nerve in your body telling you to stay put, to not move. But curiosity, or maybe survival instinct, finally won over, and you shakily stood up, the beam of your phone barely steady in your trembling hand.

You tried to think logically—the cars. Bu both, yours and Jensen’s cars, were parked in the massive garage, safe when you had checked earlier. But now, with the storm surging stronger by the minute, you couldn’t be sure. What if the garage was already flooded? What if the rumbling had come from something hitting the house? The thought of the water rising higher, creeping into your home, made your stomach turn with dread. The waves had already reached your porch by the time you ran into the guest room, and there was no telling how much worse it had gotten since then.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed toward the small window at the far end of the guest room. The wind was howling so fiercely outside that it felt like the house was swaying beneath your feet, but you had to know what was happening out there.

As you approached the window, you felt a new wave of fear wash over you. The sky was black, save for the occasional, blinding crack of lightning that tore through the clouds, illuminating the storm for a brief, horrifying second at a time. You pressed your face against the glass, trying to peer through the rain, your breath fogging up the window. But it was too dark—way too dark.

You couldn’t see anything.

Your hands were trembling as you wiped at the fog on the glass, your tears only making it harder to focus. Everything outside was a blur—dark shapes, shadows, the sound of the storm so loud. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but the tears kept coming, clouding your sight. It was no use. The storm had swallowed everything.

All you wanted was to see if the other houses were still standing, to know if someone else out there was going through the same terror you were, but the storm had cut you off from everything. You were truly alone.

Your sobs came in short, ragged gasps as you turned away from the window, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The fear, the loneliness—it was suffocating. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw those waves, rising higher and higher, threatening to consume everything.

Jensen’s face flashed in your mind—his voice on the phone earlier, laughing it off, telling you it was just a little rain. How you wished he was here now, his arms around you, telling you it would all be okay. But he wasn’t. He was miles away, probably sitting at the airport, just as helpless as you were, waiting for a flight that wasn’t coming. And you hated that he couldn’t reach you, hated that you couldn’t even tell him how scared you were, how much you needed him.

Back at the airport, Jensen stood from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the departure board. He tried your number again, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced back and forth near the gate. He couldn’t stay still—couldn’t stop the gnawing panic that had taken hold of him ever since the storm had escalated.

Voicemail again.

“Damn it”, he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ended the call and tried again. The same result. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to spill over into full-blown fear. You hadn’t answered in hours, and now there was no way to reach you.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”, he muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the phone. He couldn’t stand this—being so far away from you when you needed him the most. All he could think about was how he’d dismissed your fear earlier, how he’d brushed off the storm as no big deal. And now? Now he’d give anything to take those words back, to tell you that he should have been more worried.

The airport was buzzing with frustrated passengers, but Jensen couldn’t focus on any of them. The only thing on his mind was you, alone in that house by the ocean, and the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest.

He tried your number one more time, holding his breath as it rang, hoping against hope that this time, you’d answer. But when the call went to voicemail again, he felt his heart sink.

You stayed awake the entire night, your body too tense, your mind too restless to even think about sleep. The sound of the storm had been relentless, the howling wind and crashing waves making it impossible to focus on anything but the raw terror building inside you. For hours, you sat on the bed, curled up in a huge blanket, staring at the window as if waiting for the next strike.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a book or distract your mind with anything else. It was like your brain refused to let go of the constant anxiety, clinging to the fear of what might happen next. The storm’s roar had felt endless, and with no way to check on the outside world, you could only imagine the worst. Every thud, every creak of the house made your heart jump, and your mind raced with thoughts of what might have been happening beyond the walls.

By the time the storm began to fade, just before dawn, you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids finally began to droop. The wind had quieted, the rain now a soft patter compared to the chaos from hours before. Somewhere in that stillness, you drifted off without realizing it, your body giving in to the exhaustion and fear that had kept you alert all night.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

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#jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles the boys #jensen ackles #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n

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greengoblinswifey · 1 month ago

Text

Forbidden Flame

pairing— dad’s best friend!nicholas chavez x fem!reader

summary— the move to LA allows you to meet your dad’s best friend you’ve always seen on the big screen and who he always speaks about. what you don’t anticipate is the tension and connection between you that inevitably boils over on vacation after much teasing. based on this request.

warnings— age gap(reader is 19, nicholas is aged up to be 40)teasing and flirting, praise kink, choking, sir kink, oral(m&f receiving), fingering, degrading kink, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare.

Part II

Your dad had been best friends with Nicholas Chavez for years—decades, really. They’d grown up together, gone to the same schools and stuck by each other through all of life’s twists and turns. Nicholas’ move to Los Angeles to chase his acting dreams hadn’t changed that. Despite the distance, they talked almost daily, keeping their friendship as strong as ever.

You’d only met Nicholas once when you were younger, during one of his rare trips back home. You were about twelve at the time, and while you vaguely remembered his tall frame and sweet smile, he hadn’t left much of an impression. Over the years, though, you’d grown more familiar with him through your dad’s endless stories, their calls, and the movies your dad insisted you watch.

“You should be proud,” he’d say, nudging you as another one of Nicholas’ films played on the TV. “That’s my best friend up there.”

Your dad would occasionally fly out to California for Nicholas’ premieres or events, but you’d never felt inclined to join him. It wasn’t until university brought you to Los Angeles that your paths finally crossed again.

When your dad divorced your mom, he decided to move to California to be closer to you. He bought a house in Hollywood, offering you a place to live while you attended university. You didn’t mind, you’d always been closer to your dad, and his laid back, supportive attitude made sharing a house easy.

Being in the same city as Nicholas meant your dad finally had a chance to see his best friend more often, and you heard him mention Nicholas’ name even more in passing.

“He’s coming over soon,” your dad told you one afternoon. “Haven’t seen him in person in ages. Thought we’d catch up.”

You didn’t think much of it—until the night Nicholas arrived.

The dinner table was a culmination of clinking silverware, stories and laughter. The kind of laughter that made the years between old friends feel like seconds. Your dad beamed as he embraced Nicholas, who stood in the foyer looking effortlessly charming.

“There he is, the big shot actor!” your dad teased, giving Nicholas a pat on the back.

Nicholas chuckled, his voice deeper and smoother than you remembered. “You haven’t changed a bit, man. Still know how to make me feel like a show off.”

And then his eyes fell on you.

“And who’s this?” he asked, his gaze sweeping you up and down with a hint of curiosity and something more.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your dad announced proudly, gesturing toward you. “You haven’t seen her since she was, what? Twelve?”

You swallowed hard, feeling pinned under Nicholas’ attention. His brown eyes lingered just a second too long before his lips curled into a slow, polite smile.

“You’ve grown a lot,” he said smoothly, extending a hand. “Nicholas Chavez. Though I suppose you know that.”

You managed to stammer out a soft, “Nice to meet you,” shaking his hand. His grip was firm, and his touch sent a strange spark down your spine.

Dinner was filled with nostalgia and catching up. Your dad recounted old stories from their youth, embarrassing moments, spontaneous road trips, and the mischief they’d gotten into. Nicholas laughed freely, though every so often, you caught him glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking.

“So,” your dad began, shifting the conversation, “she’s doing theatre arts and creative writing. Wants to get into the business—creative side of things, you know?”

Nicholas raised an eyebrow, turning his attention fully to you now. “Theatre arts? Creative writing? That’s a great combination. What’s the end goal?”

“I—uh—I want to write scripts,” you admitted, feeling nervous under his intense gaze. “Maybe work on sets or be an actress, just get my foot in the door somehow.”

“Well, you’re in the right city for it,” he said with a small smile. “And, hey, if you ever need some experience, I’d be happy to take you under my wing. Help you learn the ropes.”

Your breath caught, and you fumbled with your glass, bringing it to your lips to hide the warmth creeping up your neck.

Your dad laughed, oblivious. “Hear that? You’ve already got a mentor lined up. I always knew you’d be useful for something, Nick.”

Nicholas smirked, his eyes still on you as he raised his glass. “Happy to help.”

The rest of the evening passed, but your mind kept replaying his words. Take you under my wing. It was nothing inappropriate—perfectly professional. Yet something in the way he’d said it made your stomach flip, as if there was an unspoken undertone you couldn’t quite place.

By the time the night ended, Nicholas was standing at the door with your dad, exchanging plans for future meet ups. He glanced back at you one last time, his expression unreadable but lingering.

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice softer now, just for you.

“Goodnight,” you replied, and as the door shut behind him, you exhaled a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding.

Your dad clapped you on the shoulder, oblivious to your spinning thoughts. “See? Told you he’s a good guy. You’ll learn a lot from him.”

You weren’t so sure what you’d learn having a man that attractive around you, but one thing was certain—Nicholas Chavez was going to be hard to forget.

The next day, your dad picked you up from campus, his energy high as he tapped the steering wheel with excitement. “Nicholas invited us over to his place,” he announced. “Thought it’d be nice for us to hang out. You’ll love his house, it’s insane.”

Your stomach flipped. Spending more time with Nicholas already had you on edge, and now you’d be in his home? You glanced down at your outfit, a cute red and white crop top paired with high waisted shorts. You’d worn it to class without a second thought, but now the exposed skin felt too revealing.

By the time your dad pulled into the driveway of Nicholas’ mansion, your nerves were in overdrive.

Nicholas greeted you both at the door, his smile welcoming as hugged your dad. “Good to see you, man,” he said warmly, stepping aside to let you in.

Then his eyes landed on you.

For a moment, he just looked, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that felt deliberate. His jaw tightened slightly before his expression softened. “And you,” he said, his voice dipping lower, “looking even more beautiful than last time.”

You stared back, trying to keep your breathing steady. Up close, Nicholas Chavez was impossibly good-looking. The sharp lines of his jaw, the way his hair framed his face, the confident way he carried himself—it was overwhelming.

His hand brushed against your bare back as he stepped aside, sending a shiver up your spine. “Come in,” he said, though his eyes lingered for just a second longer.

The inside of his house was stunning. Bright sunlight poured through massive windows, highlighting every detail of the sleek, modern décor. Your dad let out a low whistle. “This is incredible, bro. You’ve really done well for yourself.”

Nicholas chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Thanks, but it’s just a house. A place to unwind, you know?”

“Unwind?” your dad teased. “This place looks like a movie set.”

Nicholas smirked but didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes flicked back to you. You met his gaze, your stomach tightening at the look in his eyes. For a moment, it was like the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you. His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something, but he quickly turned back to your dad.

“Speaking of unwinding,” Nicholas said, his tone casual now, “I thought we could hang out by the pool for a bit. I’ve got drinks and food.”

“That sounds great,” your dad said, clapping his hands together.

Nicholas glanced at you again, his expression unreadable. “You good with that?”

“Yeah,” you managed to say, your voice a little too soft.

“Perfect,” he said with a small smile. “I’ll get everything set up.”

As he walked toward the kitchen, you couldn’t help but watch him go. The way he moved, so confident and self assured, only added to his appeal. You exhaled slowly, trying to shake off the heat crawling up your body.

Your dad caressed your arm, snapping you out of your thoughts. “See? This is gonna be fun. Maybe you’ll even get some acting tips while we’re here.”

You nodded, forcing a smile, but your mind was elsewhere. The way Nicholas looked at you, the brush of his hand against your skin, the charged silence that hung between you—it all left you wondering what, if anything, it meant.

Seeing as you didn’t have your swim suit, you opted to just dip your feet in the water. Your dad could get one of Nicholas’ swim trunks. A few minutes later, Nicholas returned, a bundle of fabric in his hands.

“Here,” he said, holding it out to you.

You tilted your head, confused, as you took the neatly folded bikini. “What’s this?”

He shrugged casually, but there was something in his smirk. “Ordered a few things online a while back, and this one accidentally came. Figured it might fit you, though. You can keep it.”

Your fingers brushed over the soft fabric, noting the vibrant color and skimpy cut. “Oh, uh, thanks,” you said, a bit shy now.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his voice smooth. “It’s better than swimming in your clothes.”

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you nodded and got up. “I’ll go change.”

The pool house offered privacy, but as you slipped out of your clothes and into the bikini, you glanced at yourself in the mirror. The top hugged your tits tightly, barely offering coverage, while the bottoms sat high on your hips, leaving little to the imagination. It wasn’t something you’d typically wear, and the thought of walking out in front of Nicholas made your stomach flutter.

When you stepped back outside, the air felt cooler against your exposed skin. Nicholas was leaning against a lounger, sipping beer, but when he saw you approach, his movements stilled.

His eyes swept over you, and for a brief moment, his breath hitched. “You’ve—really grown up,” he said, his voice low and a little rough.

Flustered, you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s just a swimsuit.”

“Still,” he said, his gaze lingering for a second too long before he cleared his throat. “It looks good on you.”

You managed a quiet “thanks” before sliding into the pool, letting the water cool the heat creeping. Nicholas joined you and your dad shortly after, but even as they talked and laughed, you could feel his eyes on you.

It wasn’t obvious—his gaze flicked back and forth between you and the conversation, but every time your head turned, you caught him watching. The weight of his attention made your heart race.

By evening, the three of you had dried off and gathered around the dining table. The smell of roasted vegetables and perfectly cooked steak filled the air.

“Wow, Nick,” your dad said, cutting into his meal. “This is impressive. Never thought I’d see the day you’d learn to cook.”

Nicholas chuckled, sitting back in his chair. “Had to pick up a few skills along the way. Can’t survive on takeout forever.”

Your dad teased, “Guess that’s what happens when you don’t get married. No one to cook for you.”

Nicholas glanced at you then, his dark eyes steady and unreadable. “Maybe I just haven’t met the right girl,” he said, a slight edge to his tone. Then, with a small smirk, he added, “But when I do, she’ll find out I’ve got all the skills she’ll ever need.”

You swallowed hard, the double meaning not lost on you. His gaze lingered second longer before he shifted his attention back to his plate, leaving you wondering how much of that comment was intentional.

Your dad laughed, shaking his head. “Well, if she’s out there, she’ll be lucky to have you. Who knew you had all this domestic talent?”

As the conversation carried on, you found yourself quiet, focusing on your food and the occasional glance Nicholas sent your way. The air felt heavy, but whether it was in your head or something more, you couldn’t be sure.

The wine Nicholas poured had loosened you up, and by the time your dad excused himself to use the bathroom, leaving you and Nicholas alone, the air felt thick and suffocating.

You tapped your glass idly, the boldness of the wine coursing through your veins. “So, is this how you usually spend your evenings? Hosting your old friends and their kids?” you teased.

His lips curved into a slow smirk, and he leaned back in his chair, swirling his own drink. “Not usually, no. But tonight’s—different.”

You decided to push, emboldened by his tone and the way his attention seemed to settle solely on you. “Different, huh? Maybe because you’re spending time with someone younger? More interesting?”

Nicholas tilted his head, his tongue darting out to wet his bottom lip. “You’re bold tonight,” he said, his voice low. “I like that.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe you like more than that.”

He opened his mouth to respond, his expression enticing, but the sound of your dad returning broke whatever moment had formed. He shifted in his seat, clearing his throat, and you quickly sat back, pretending to focus on your glass.

“Alright,” your dad said, clapping his hands together. “She’s got an early class tomorrow, so I think it’s time we head out. Thanks for dinner, Nick.”

Nicholas stood, composed. “Anytime, man. You know that.”

Your dad reached for his jacket, but when you stood and approached Nicholas to say your goodbyes, you couldn’t resist one final moment of boldness.

“Thanks for dinner,” you said sweetly as you stepped in for a hug. But instead of the polite embrace he might have expected, you pressed yourself flush against him. One hand slipped up around his neck, fingers grazing through the soft strands of his hair, while your hips brushed against his. You felt the way his breath hitched, and there was no mistaking the hardness you’d pressed against.

Nicholas’ hand hovered near your back before resting lightly, as if trying to maintain control. His voice was low, barely audible. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he murmured, his lips brushing close to your ear.

You pulled back to meet his gaze, your voice equally quiet. “So are you.”

Before either of you could say more, your dad turned back to you, oblivious. “Ready, sweetie?”

You smiled innocently and stepped away, pretending nothing had happened. “Yeah, dad. Goodnight, Nicholas.”

“Goodnight,” he said, his voice steady but his eyes stayed on your ass as you walked out the door.

That night, you lay in your bed, staring at the ceiling, your thoughts racing. The interaction replayed in your mind on a loop, his sharp, chiseled features, the way his breath faltered and his dick got hard when you touched him, the low, gravelly tone of his voice.

It was wrong, you knew that much. He was your dad’s best friend, for God’s sake. The kind of man you should steer clear of, not fantasize about. But the very thought of how forbidden it was only made it more intoxicating.

Nicholas wasn’t just handsome, he was magnetic. His success, the way he carried himself, it all checked every box you’d ever had. And then there was the age gap. You had a taste for men who were older and Nicholas embodied everything you craved.

You pressed your thighs together as the memory of his body against yours sent a rush through you. The way his voice dropped, how he’d let his guard slip for just a moment, it made your heart race and your core throb.

“This is bad,” you whispered to yourself, but even as you said it, you knew the truth. You didn’t want it to stop. If anything, you wanted to push further.

And, deep down, you hoped he felt the same way.

Friday came faster than you expected, but the days leading up to it were anything but dull. Earlier in the week, Nicholas had texted you out of the blue, and the conversation quickly veered into dangerous, flirtatious territory.

Nicholas: “Miss me yet?”

You: “Should I?”

Nicholas: “You tell me.”

You: “Maybe a little.”

You smiled at your screen, biting your lip as you typed out your next message.

You: “You like having me around that much?”

Nicholas: “You have no idea.”

His response made your pulse quicken, but you weren’t about to let him have the upper hand so easily.

You: “Guess you’ll just have to wait.”

Nicholas: “Not sure I can.”

Your heart was racing, and just when you thought the conversation couldn’t get any more suggestive, his next text came through.

Nicholas: “Keep your phone locked.”

You raised an eyebrow, staring at the message for a moment before replying.

You: “Why? Are you planning on sending something?”

Nicholas: “Only if you want me to.”

You: “Hmm, maybe.”

You could feel the tension even through the screen, but after he replied, you left him on read, smirking to yourself. A part of you wanted to follow up, but you were content letting him stew in his anticipation.

For the next few days, you didn’t respond to any of his subtle messages, leaving him to wonder if he had pushed too far. You stayed busy, keeping things light and casual whenever you tagged along with your dad and Nicholas during their outings. The tension was always there, simmering, but you played it cool, knowing full well that you held all the cards.

Then Thursday evening came. Your dad burst into your room with the kind of excitement you didn’t usually see from him.

“Pack a suitcase,” he said, grinning.

“What?” you asked, looking up from your laptop.

“We’re going on a trip,” he said, leaning against your doorframe. “Me, you, and Nicholas. We’re heading to Miami for the weekend. Figured we could get away, hit a resort, relax a bit.”

“Miami?” you repeated, your mind already racing.

“Yeah. Nice beach, warm weather. Get a little fucked up for the weekend,” he added with a laugh.

“Dad,” you groaned, rolling your eyes. “Don’t say it like that.”

He laughed. “Just pack something nice. We leave tomorrow.”

Excitement bubbled inside you as you started packing. You made sure to include a few outfits that would undoubtedly turn heads, particularly Nicholas’. Tight dresses, short skirts, and bikinis that barely covered anything, they all made their way into your suitcase.

Later that night, as you sat on your bed scrolling through your phone, you decided you’d teased Nicholas long enough. You called him, and he picked up almost immediately.

“Finally,” he said, his voice deep.

“Did you miss me?” you teased, twirling a strand of your hair between your fingers.

“Maybe I did,” he admitted. “I was starting to think the trip was the only way to get you alone.”

“Technically, it’s not,” you countered, smirking to yourself.

“Well,” he said, his tone dropping slightly, “I’ll make sure to get you alone at some point.”

Your breath caught at the implication. “See you Friday,” you said quickly, hanging up before he could say anything else.

Friday morning, Nicholas’ driver arrived to pick you and your dad up. You wore a simple yet flattering outfit, a short skirt that showed off your legs and a fitted top that hugged your tits. When Nicholas greeted you at the private hangar, his eyes lingered just a little too long, sliding over your body before meeting your gaze.

“Morning,” he said, his voice casual, though his eyes betrayed something else entirely.

“Morning,” you replied lightly, pretending not to notice how he was looking at you.

Your dad clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “You’re spoiling us with this, man.”

Nicholas laughed, his gaze flicking to you again. “You deserve it, you’re my brother. Besides, what’s the point of having nice things if you can’t share them?”

You followed them onto the jet, your jaw dropping slightly at the sheer luxury of it all. The plush leather seats, the spacious layout, and the private rooms in the back, it was a dream.

“Not bad, huh?” Nicholas teased, catching your expression.

“Not bad is an understatement,” you muttered, shaking your head.

Once in the air, your dad fell asleep almost immediately, leaving you to sip on a cocktail in the small lounge area. You scrolled through your phone, trying to act casual, but your mind was already racing.

A few minutes later, you heard footsteps. Turning slightly, you saw Nicholas leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed and a small smirk on his lips.

“Don’t worry,” he said, his voice low. “Your dad’s out cold.”

You raised an eyebrow, setting your drink down. “Why would I worry? What’s going to happen?”

Nicholas chuckled, his gaze dropping briefly to your bare thigh before meeting your eyes again. “Anything you want to happen.”

Your heart skipped a beat as his eyes lingered, his jaw tightening briefly before he looked away.

“You always this confident?” you asked, tilting your head slightly.

“Only when I’ve got a reason to be.” His smirk widened as he stepped closer, leaning on the back of the seat across from you. His voice dropped as he added, “You’re making it hard to behave, you know.”

“Who said you have to behave?”

His eyes darkened slightly and he shifted, running a hand through his hair. “Your dad’s my best friend,” he said, almost to himself, though his gaze never left yours.

“And?” you challenged, your voice softer now.

His lips quirked up into a small smile. “And—you’re trouble. I can see that already.”

You leaned back in your seat, crossing one leg over the other deliberately. “Maybe you like trouble.”

Nicholas exhaled sharply, shaking his head, though he smiled in amusement. “You’re something else, you know that?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

He shook his head, his gaze not wavering. “You should,” he murmured, his voice low and steady.

You stood, crossing the small space between you and Nicholas in a few deliberate steps, until you were right in front of him. His eyes flicked up and down your figure, his jaw tightening slightly.

“You’re not very subtle, you know,” you teased, tilting your head as you caught his eyes trailing over your legs and the hem of your skirt.

“I’m not trying to be,” he replied.

You took a step closer, your voice dropping just enough to make him lean in. “You can look and touch,” you whispered, grabbing his large hands and placing them gently on your hips.

Nicholas hesitated, his fingers barely pressing into your waist. “This is a bad idea,” he muttered, though he didn’t pull away.

“You’re such a pussy,” you said, shaking your head and giving him a challenging look.

That seemed to snap him out of his hesitation. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you closer in one swift motion, and suddenly his grip was firm. His other hand slid up, fingers grazing the side of your neck before settling at the base of your throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp.

“Not so bold now, are you?” he murmured, his lips just inches from yours.

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding against your ribcage, but you weren’t ready to back down. With a final burst of boldness, you pushed him onto the chair then swung your legs over him, settling yourself in his lap so you were straddling him. The movement seemed to catch him off guard for a moment, his eyes darkening as he looked up at you.

Your breaths mingled, the air between you filled with so much tension. His hands rested on your hips, his fingers pressing into the fabric of your skirt. You leaned in slightly, and he mirrored the action, your faces so close that your lips were slightly brushing against each other.

The kiss came almost naturally, slow and testing at first, as though either of you could pull away at any second. But when you didn’t, when you leaned in just a little more, it quickly deepened. His lips moved against yours with a hunger that made your head spin, his hands pulling you closer against him like he couldn’t get enough.

Your fingers found their way to his hair, tugging lightly as the kiss grew more urgent, more ferocious. He groaned softly against your mouth, and you felt the sound vibrate in your chest, sending a thrill down your spine. Then the plane shook.

You both froze, pulling back just slightly. His hand stayed on your waist as you both caught your breath, your faces still close enough to feel the warmth of his skin.

Nicholas cleared his throat, his voice quieter now. “We should probably stop before this goes any further.”

You nodded, slipping off his lap and standing in front of him again. “Yeah,” you said softly, smoothing out your skirt.

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer, and then he stood, straightening his shirt. “Get some rest,” he said, his tone gentler now. “I’ll see you when we land.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked back toward the main cabin, leaving you standing there with your heart still racing. You took a deep breath, shaking your head as you went back to your private area.

As you closed your eyes, the lingering heat of his touch still burned on your skin, and you wondered how the rest of this trip would unfold.

You stirred awake hours later, feeling the gentle sensation of fingers brushing through your hair. A lazy smile tugged at your lips as you mumbled, “You’re being bold now, aren’t you?”

“Bold?” a familiar voice replied. Your eyes fluttered open to see your dad standing over you with a raised eyebrow. “Sweetie, we’ve landed. Time to get moving.”

Blinking away the sleep, you sat up quickly, your heart beating fast. “Right. Thanks, Dad.”

The ride to the resort was quick, and you were immediately struck by how massive and luxurious it was. Each of you had your own private room, and you couldn’t wait to explore. After setting your bags down, you wasted no time pulling out a swimsuit—a sexy two piece that hugged every curve, and headed out to meet your dad and Nicholas by the private pool.

When you arrived, heads turned, and you couldn’t ignore the stares and the occasional whistles from passersby. Nicholas stood nearby, clearly irritated by the attention you were getting, his sharp jaw tense as he greeted fans asking for his autograph. You caught the way his eyes flicked to the men looking your way, his annoyance evident.

“Not a fan of the attention?” you teased, stepping closer to him while your dad busied himself at the far end of the pool flirting with a woman.

Nicholas’ gaze bore into you. “Not when it’s them giving it to you,” he muttered, his tone low.

You grinned, deciding to push your luck. “Jealousy doesn’t suit you.”

His eyes narrowed, but the corner of his mouth lifted in a faint smirk. Before he could reply, you held out a bottle of sunscreen. “Do me a favor and get my back?”

He hesitated, glancing over to where your dad was preoccupied. “You’re a tease, you know that?”

“Am I?” you asked, turning around and presenting your back to him. “Then don’t help me.”

He sighed but took the bottle from your hand. His touch was firm as he worked the sunscreen over your shoulders and back. When he reached the small of your back, his hands faltered for just a second.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you said over your shoulder, playfully.

“Trying to focus,” he replied, but his hands moved lower, brushing over the curve of your hips and your plump ass.

You shifted slightly, making your ass jiggle beneath his hands. His breath hitched audibly, and he muttered under his breath, “You’re going to kill me with this shit.”

You giggled, biting your lip as you turned to face him and took the bottle back. Without breaking eye contact, you squeezed some sunscreen onto your hands and began rubbing it over your chest, your fingers grazing deliberately over your tits.

His jaw clenched, his eyes darkening as he watched you. But before he could say anything, you gave him a sly smile and walked toward the pool, leaving him standing there visibly hard.

You dove into the water, and moments later, he joined you, swimming a few laps before suggesting, “Why don’t we head down to the beach? It’s quieter there.”

You nodded, glancing over at your dad, who was still deeply engrossed in conversation with the woman. Nicholas called out to him, and your dad waved him off with a grin.

“I’ll be busy this evening, maybe even tonight,” your dad said, his tone suggestive. “You two have dinner without me. I’ll make it up to you tomorrow.”

Nicholas laughed then muttered, “Always the womanizer. Some things never change.”

You laughed softly. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Have fun.”

The beach was stunning, with the sun beginning to set, casting everything in a golden glow. As you walked along the shore, Nicholas’ eyes kept wandering, lingering on your ass and the way your bikini hugged your figure.

Finally, you turned to him with a teasing smile. “See something you like?”

“Definitely,” he said, his voice steady, though his gaze was anything but.

“Good,” you said, stepping closer, your heart racing at the way his eyes raked over you.

The water was warm as it slapped against your body. Nicholas stood just a few feet away, his eyes locked on yours as the golden light of the setting sun reflected off your dark skin. You moved toward him, closing the space between you, and without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His large hands instinctively gripped beneath your ass, holding you steady as he swayed you gently in the water.

You giggled at the way he playfully moved you around, the water rippling around you both. His gaze softened as he looked at you, a faint smile on his lips. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured.

Heat went to your cheeks, and you instinctively buried your face into the crook of his neck. “You can get shy now,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a teasing tone, “but don’t be shy when I’m fucking you.”

The words rolled off his tongue so smoothly, so confidently, that it sent a shiver down your spine. Your breathing quickened as you pulled back, your eyes locking onto his. The look in his eyes made your heart pound, and without a second thought, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

The kiss started slow but quickly turned desperate, your mouths moving against each other as the water swirled around you. Nicholas’ grip on you tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours, leaving you breathless.

“I need you so bad,” you whispered against his lips, your voice trembling.

He groaned softly, his forehead resting against yours. “I need you more,” he said, his voice rough and full of hunger. His eyes roamed your face. “Fuck, look at you.”

You kissed him again, your lips pressing against his like you were trying to convey everything you couldn’t put into words. He pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged. “At this rate,” he muttered, his voice strained, “I’ll fuck you right here, right now. But we can’t—not yet.”

Before you could respond, he adjusted his hold on you and began carrying you toward the shore and you admired the way his muscles flexed under the golden light. Once you reached the sand, he set you down gently and handed you a towel, his eyes lingering on you as you dried off.

The two of you returned to your rooms to freshen up for dinner. You slipped into a stunning white dress that hugged your curves perfectly, the gold jewelry you chose glinting against your dark skin. When you stepped out, Nicholas was waiting for you in the hallway. His eyes widened slightly as he took you in, and he let out a low whistle.

“You look—” He trailed off, his gaze sweeping over you. “You look breathtaking.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself,” you said, glancing at the fitted shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders.

He offered his arm, and you looped yours through it as the two of you made your way to one of the resort’s restaurant. Inside, the air was intimate, with dim lighting and the soft hum of music filling the air. Nicholas pulled out your chair for you, a small but thoughtful gesture that made your stomach flutter.

As the meal progressed, you noticed he couldn’t take his eyes off you. His gaze lingered on your lips when you spoke, on your hands as you picked up your glass, and on your cleavage.

“You’re staring,” you teased, setting down your fork.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, leaning back slightly in his chair. “You’re making it hard to focus on anything else.”

You smirked, sliding off one of your heels under the table. Slowly, you let your foot brush against his leg. His eyes flicked to yours in amusement. “What are you up to now?”

“Nothing,” you said, innocently as your foot moved higher. When it pressed against the growing bulge in his pants, he let out a low chuckle, his hand running over his jaw.

“You’re such a bad girl,” he murmured.

“How big is it?” you asked, your tone filled with need.

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk growing. “Come to my room and find out.”

“Maybe I will,” you replied with a sly grin, withdrawing your foot.

By the time you both made your way to the elevator after finishing your meal, you knew the dam would burst.

The doors had barely closed when Nicholas turned to you, his eyes blazing. Without a word, he pushed you gently against the elevator wall, his hands gripping your thighs as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your lips crashed together in a deep kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair as his hands roamed over your back.

The elevator dinged, but neither of you broke apart. Nicholas stumbled down the hallway, fumbling with his keycard as your lips moved against his, both of you breathless and desperate. Finally, the door clicked open, and he carried you inside, kicking it shut behind him.

His lips never left yours, the kiss deepening with every step. When he reached the large bed, he laid you down, his body hovering over yours as he took you in.

“I’ve waited so long for this,” he murmured.

Your chest rose and fell quickly as you looked up at him, your own desire reflected in his gaze. “Fuck,” you breathed, your voice trembling. “Me too.”

His hands moved to the hem of your dress, and with one swift motion, he hiked it up, revealing your bare pussy. His eyes darkened when he realized you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He let out a low, groan. “You’re so fucking naughty,” he said, his lips curling into a smirk.

You bit your lip, your voice dropping into a sultry tone. “Only for you, sir.”

That one word made him pause, his gaze snapping to yours. He arched a brow, his smirk deepening. “Sir?” he repeated, the word rolling off his tongue with deliberate slowness. “I like that.”

Your teeth sank into your bottom lip again, and before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips trailing down your stomach with kisses. The heat of his breath against your skin sent shivers racing through your body, and anticipation built as his hands slid up your thighs, parting them gently.

When his mouth finally found your wet pussy, your back arched off the bed at the first touch of his tongue. The sensation was otherworldly, every nerve ending in your body sparking to life. His tongue moved with practiced precision, alternating between slow strokes and quick flicks that left you gasping for air.

“God, you taste amazing,” he murmured against you, his voice full of praise.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as you squirmed beneath him. Every flick of his tongue sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, and you couldn’t hold back the moans that spilled from your lips. “Nicholas,” you whimpered, your voice breathy and desperate.

“That’s it baby,” he murmured, slipping two fingers inside you with ease. His touch had you squirming, and he moved them in sync with his tongue, building your pleasure higher and higher. “You’re so perfect,” he praised. “So responsive. Taste just as good as you look.”

Your breathing grew erratic, your pussy tightening around his finger as the sensation became overwhelming. “Sir,” you gasped, your grip on his hair tightening. “I’m gonna—”

“C’mon baby,” he encouraged. “Cum for me, beautiful.”

His words tipped you over the edge, and with a cry, you fell apart beneath him. Your body trembled as the orgasm washed over you, and he didn’t stop, working you through every wave of pleasure until you were left breathless and trembling.

As you relaxed, his lips trailed back up your body, leaving soft kisses. When he reached your face, he smiled down at you, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re fucking amazing,” he whispered.

You caught your breath, still trembling from the pleasure he’d just given you. You tilted your head up to meet his eyes, a small, mischievous smile on your lips.

“I wanna please you too,” you whispered, your voice soft.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Wanna be my good little cock sucker?”

Your breath caught at his words, but the flush of desire through your body made you nod without hesitation. “Yes,” you murmured, but his smirk widened.

“Say it properly,” he demanded. “Yes, sir.”

You swallowed, your gaze never leaving his as you obeyed. “Yes, sir.”

“Good fucking girl,” he said. He leaned back slightly, giving you room as you slid off the bed and sank to your knees before him. The sight of you looking up at him from that angle made his jaw tighten, but he maintained control, watching you with focus.

Your fingers moved to unbuckle his belt, your hands steady but your heart racing. As you tugged it free and unzipped his pants, your pussy dripped. When you finally freed his cock, your eyes widened, and your lips parted in surprise.

Nicholas smirked down at you, clearly pleased by your reaction. “Now you know how big it is,” he said, his tone dripping with arrogance.

You glanced up at him, still slightly stunned, but you couldn’t help the small, breathy laugh that escaped you. “It’s—a lot,” you admitted, your voice teasing.

“You can handle it,” he replied confidently, wrapping a hand gently but firmly in your hair. His fingers tightened slightly, enough to guide you.

Leaning forward, you began slowly, your lips wrapping around him as you took him into your mouth. He moaned softly at the first touch. “That’s it,” he murmured. “Just like that. You’re such a good girl for me.”

The sound of his praise spurred you on, and you moved with more confidence, hollowing your cheeks as you took him down your throat. His grip in your hair tightened slightly, guiding you at a steady pace. “God, your mouth feels amazing,” he muttered, his head tilting back for a moment before his gaze returned to you.

“You look so beautiful like this,” he continued, his voice strained but steady. “Sucking my dick so well. Just like I knew you would.”

You couldn’t help but moan softly at his words, the vibrations pulling another groan from him. His free hand reached down to cup your cheek briefly before sliding back into your hair, his touch firm but still careful.

“Such a perfect mouth,” he murmured, his voice rougher now. “You’re making me lose my mind.”

You glanced up at him, your eyes meeting his as you continued, and the look in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine. The way he looked at you—like you were the most intoxicating thing he’d ever seen—only made you want to please him more.

Your tongue slid across his shaft as you moved, every glide eliciting a deep, guttural sound from him. You moved your head faster and massaged his heavy balls, his breathing turned uneven, and his grip in your hair tightened. “You’re such a good little cock sucker,” he muttered, his voice rough.

Just as his cock throbbed, and you thought he was close to letting go, he grasped your hair gently but firmly, pulling you back. “I’m not gonna cum in your mouth tonight,” he murmured, his eyes dark and unwavering as they locked with yours. “Next time, I’ll fill that gorgeous mouth of yours. But right now, I need to be inside you. Need to fill your pussy up first.”

Nicholas hovered over you, brushing a thumb across your lips as he looked into your eyes. “Are you ready? Are you sure you want this? I need to hear you say it.”

You nodded, your breath shaky. “Yes, sir. I’m sure.”

He smirked faintly at your words, though his gaze softened with something deeper. “You know there’s no going back from this,” he murmured, his voice low. “And no one can ever find out.”

“I don’t care about anything else right now,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I just want you.”

His expression flickered, caught between control and desire. Slowly, he leaned down to kiss you, taking his time as though to savor the moment. His hands moved over your body, caressing your skin and pulling off your dress fully leaving you bare.

“You’re perfect,” he murmured, his breath warm against your collarbone as his lips trailed lower. “So beautiful and all mine.”

“All yours,” you echoed.

He lined the leaking, heavy tip with your entrance and rubbed it along your folds. He was so big, probably the biggest you’d ever had. That’s one of the things you loved about older men.

He stared into your eyes as he slowly pushed his cock inside you. You gasped for air, the feeling of him filling you inch by inch taking your breath away. It felt like he was so deep and he just started.

“Breathe baby, you can take it.” You nodded, biting your lips as he could only get half way in but that was enough. He started snapping his hips to meet yours, the friction against your clit making you shiver. His raw cock dragged along your walls and you could feel every vein.

“You’re fucking me so good,” you croaked out, getting lost in pleasure.

“Yeah? Only I can make you feel this good,” he smirked.

He pushed your legs back even further, and the new angle had his cock going even deeper. Your pussy clenched tightly around him and he moaned, increasing his pace. “I can’t get enough of this wet fucking pussy,” he groaned. You wrapped your arms around his neck, grinding against him as he fucked you.

You couldn’t contain the loud moans that left your lips feeling him snap harshly into you, his cock practically kissing your cervix. If you had felt guilty about fucking your dad’s best friend before, it all went out the window as you felt an intense orgasm approaching.

“Gonna cum for me baby? Yeah? Do it. Cum all over my cock,” he growled.

Your entire body shuddered and you stared into his dark eyes as a rush of liquid spurted from your pussy, soaking his raw cock. He continued pounding into you, guiding you through your high until he flipped you so that you were on top of him.

You cried out as he positioned his cock back inside your aching pussy, your nails digging into his chest.

“Fucking ride me like the slut you are,” he said.

The stretch was intense, your pussy twitching as you sank down on his cock, taking him deeper, every inch filling you to the brim. Your pace was wild, desperate, and you screamed feeling his cock repeatedly hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

Nicholas’ hand wrapped around your throat, his grip firm, cutting off your breath just enough to make your head swoon. Your tits bounced with each thrust and he reached up, tangling his fingers in your hair, tugging your head down to make you look at him. His eyes were locked on yours, dark and possessive, as he forced you to glance down at your own stomach to look at the bulge in your belly where his thick cock was buried deep inside you.

“Look at that baby. Look how deep my cock is inside you,” he teased.

“S-so deep sir,” you screamed, lifting your hips and dropping back down.

The sight of him in your guts, being on top of his muscular body, it was all enough to send you over the edge. Tears spilled down your cheeks as you moaned his name and came on his thick cock. Your entire body convulsed as you did, muscles contracting around him, gripping him tight. But Nicholas wasn’t done. He fucked you even harder, his hips snapping against yours with brutal precision as you whimpered on top him.

“Oh shit. I’m gonna cum inside you, take it. Take it like a good little girl.”

You collapsed on top of him and he wrapped his big arms around you, bucking his hips deep inside you. Soft whimpers left your lips as you felt his hot load fill your insides and you were almost sure you came again from just that. Your pussy clenched down, milking him of everything he had and he continued thrusting slowly, making sure every drop went inside you.

He held you close, kissing the top of your head as you both caught your breath, relishing in the afterglow of the moment. Nicholas leaned back slightly, brushing a damp strand of hair away from your face. “You okay?” he asked softly.

You nodded, catching your breath. “I’m more than okay,” you replied with a small smile.

He grinned back at you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “That was incredible. You’re the best I’ve ever had.”

A soft laugh escaped you. “I could say the same,” you admitted, cheeks warm as you avoided his intense gaze.

He lifted you off him then stood, stretching before heading to grab a towel from the bathroom. You watched him move, his broad shoulders, his strong back and felt a familiar heat start to build again. By the time he returned and gently cleaned you up, his touch so attentive and tender, the idea of another round was already teasing the back of your mind.

But you stayed quiet, watching his face as he finished and leaned over you, planting a kiss on your temple. “You don’t regret this, do you?” he asked.

You shook your head quickly. “No. Do you?”

“Not at all,” he said immediately, a reassuring smile on his lips. Then he sighed, running a hand over his face. “But if your dad ever finds out—”

You placed a hand on his chest, cutting him off. “He won’t,” you said firmly. “He can’t. He would never forgive you.”

Nicholas nodded slowly. “Yeah. We’ll keep this between us, then.”

The unspoken agreement hung in the air for a moment before you sat up, reaching for your clothes. As much as you wanted to stay wrapped up in him for the night, you knew better. “I should go,” you said reluctantly, slipping your dress back on and smoothing it down.

Nicholas leaned back against the doorframe, watching you with a smirk. “You know, you don’t make it easy to say goodbye,” he teased as you slipped on your shoes.

You walked over to him, pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you murmured against his mouth.

He grinned and gave you one last kiss before opening the door. “Goodnight princess,” he said, his hand sliding down to give your ass a smack. You shot him a look over your shoulder, smirking as you stepped out into the hallway.

But the moment you turned, your stomach dropped. There, just a few feet away, was your dad, stepping out of his room with the woman from the pool earlier.

Your heart stopped.

His eyes flicked between you and Nicholas, who was now standing in the doorway behind you, and you forced a smile, hoping your face didn’t betray the panic building in your chest.

“Hey, sweetheart,” your dad said casually, his arm around the woman’s waist. “What are you doing up so late?”

You fumbled for words, glancing back at Nicholas, who gave you a subtle nod before stepping back into his room. “I, uh, I couldn’t sleep,” you managed, swallowing hard. “I was just getting some air.”

Your dad narrowed his eyes slightly but didn’t press. “Alright,” he said, his tone light. “Well, get some rest. We’ve got a full day tomorrow.”

“Of course,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Goodnight, Dad.”

“Night, kid.”

As he turned to head back into his room with the woman, you let out a shaky breath, your pulse still racing. You hurried back into your own room, your mind spinning. You couldn’t believe how close that had been.

In the bathroom, hot water cascaded over your body, soothing your muscles but doing little to quiet your thoughts. You leaned against the cool tile of the shower wall, closing your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing. The memory of Nicholas hovered like a spark in the dark. You could still feel his hands on you, the way he moaned your name like it was a prayer, and the look in his eyes that made you forget anything outside of that moment existed.

You knew this was dangerous. You knew you should stop before it spiraled out of control. What’s done in the dark always comes to light, you reminded yourself, the words playing in your mind like a warning.

But then his voice echoed in your head. The thought sent a shiver down your spine, and you groaned softly, pressing your forehead to the wall. “What am I doing?” you muttered to yourself, the guilt swirling in your chest.

Still, no matter how much you tried to rationalize, you couldn’t shake the pull he had over you. The way he made you feel alive, craved, wanted, it was intoxicating. You bit your lip, your cheeks heating even as you stood under the water.

The truth settled heavily in your chest. You couldn’t stop. Not now. Not after the way he made you feel, the way he fucked you like you were his very fantasy come to life. The way he held you, kissed you, worshipped every part of you. You needed more.

You turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, wrapping yourself in a plush towel. As you stared at your reflection in the foggy mirror, your mind wandered back to the way Nicholas had whispered your name, the way his lips had trailed over your pussy. A quiet voice in your head reminded you of the risk, the possibility of your dad finding out, the fallout it could bring.

But as you looked at yourself, you found a strange sort of clarity. You weren’t going to let Nicholas go.

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Tags: @blackynsupremacy @hoffmansgirl @nicholaschavezslut69

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