#i missed two phone calls bc i was on. another phone call. that only lasted three minutes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

dreamescapeswriting · 3 months ago

Text

Exposed ~ BC

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅WORD COUNT: 3.4

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅PAIRING: Chan x reader

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅GENRE: established relationship, angst, soft ending, chan being protective boyfriend, your relationship is leaked,

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - October 2024

‧₊˚ ☽ ⋅MASTERLIST

It started off like any other day. Everything felt normal when you woke up, you and Chan had kissed goodbye like you did every single day before work and everything had been as it should have.

The usual hum of the office buzzed around you, and you sat at your desk with a smile, still laughing with your colleagues about a ridiculous moment that happened during the morning meeting.

“I can’t believe he actually said that,” you chuckled, glancing at your friend across the desk. You couldn't believe one of the interns had taken over the meeting after your boss had left, acting as though he'd know exactly what he was talking about... newsflash...he didn't.

“Does he even know what ‘synergy’ means?” you giggled a little and your friend, Sarah, shook her head, trying to keep her laughter under control.

“He’s just throwing words around to sound smart. I thought we were all going to lose it when he started talking about optimizing our optimized optimizations.” The two of you burst into laughter again, drawing curious glances from the people nearby, glares soon followed and you rolled your eyes. It was one of those lighthearted mornings—work felt manageable, and the little stresses of life were nowhere to be found.

Even your secret life with Chan didn’t feel overwhelming today, sometimes it felt hard to hide that part of your life from everyone you knew at work. But for nearly four years, you had both kept your relationship perfectly hidden, enjoying your time together away from prying eyes. You didn't care that you had to hide it, you understood why since life with an idol wasn't going to be all it was made out to be in the fanfictions you sometimes found yourself reading.

"Poor thing, maybe we should invite him to lunch though, just so we don't make him feel isolated," you told her as she nodded along with you. The last thing you wanted was to be mean to someone who clearly was trying his best here.

Soon the laughter died down, and you leaned back in your chair, reaching for your coffee. It was still warm—just the way you liked it. Everything felt routine. Normal.

But normal didn’t last.

Your phone, sitting innocuously beside your keyboard, buzzed once. Then again. And again. It wasn't like you to get so many notifications unless your friend was off from work and spammed you with reels so you bit down on your lip. You weren't exactly allowed your phone out so you glanced at it briefly, expecting a couple of messages from Chan or maybe a group chat blowing up. But the notifications were relentless.

Your brow furrowed as you picked up the phone. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the flood of messages—dozens of notifications on social media, texts from unknown numbers, and even missed calls. Confusion turned to panic as you scrolled through the chaos, trying to make sense of it all.

“What’s wrong?” Sarah asked, noticing the sudden change in your expression. Before you could answer, another notification popped up on your screen—a tagged post from one of Chan’s members. Your stomach dropped as you read the caption:

CHANGBIN(jutdwae): "Congratulations on four years! You two deserve all the happiness."

You blinked, reading it again to make sure you weren’t imagining things. Not only was there the captain and tag of your Instagram there were countless images of you and Chan together.

No, this couldn’t be happening. It had to be a mistake. But the fans knew. They had pieced it together. The relationship you had kept under wraps for years was now out there for the world to see.

Your phone was going insane and there was no way you were going to be able to get into contact with Chan at this rate so you slid the phone into DND mode.

“I—uh, I have to go,” you mumbled, standing up from your desk, but your legs felt weak, your mind racing. There was no way this was happening, Changbin was usually more careful than this. What was he thinking?!

Your coworkers had started to murmur, glancing at their own phones, probably seeing the same posts and comments. Some of them gave you sympathetic looks, others were confused, staring at you to make sure that you were the person you claimed to be.

"Yn, wait." Sarah sounded panicked as she walked with you, holding your lower back as she shook her head at you,

"What's wrong-" That’s when you noticed it. Outside, through the wide office windows, a crowd had gathered. A large one. The people were holding their phones, taking pictures, pointing. You could hear the muffled sounds of their voices growing louder.

Oh no.

“Y/N, talk to me...What’s going on?” Sarah asked, standing beside you, worry etched into her features. You swallowed the lump in your throat, Sarah knew you were seeing someone you couldn't talk about...someone well-known in the media but she'd respected you when you couldn't tell her who.

“Fans,” you whispered, unable to tear your eyes away from the window. You had no idea how you were even going to get out of there with that mess building up outside.

“They know. About me and Chan.” Sarah’s eyes widened in shock at the name. She opened her mouth to say something, but the words were drowned out by the sudden realization that the fans weren’t just outside—they were here for you and clearly weren't just going to walk away anytime soon.

Your phone rang suddenly, startling you out of your daze. It was Chan. Thanks to him being in your favourites he was the only number able to get through to you,

“Y/N! Are you okay? I’m so, so sorry. I swear we’re trying to fix this,” his voice was panicked, almost breathless. You knew his management were going to do everything that they could to make this all go away but you were still stuck,

“I’m at work, Chan,” you whispered, struggling to stay calm. You knew how crazy people seemed to be when it came to idols but you had no idea it was going to end up like this,

“There are fans outside. How do they even know where I am?” He cursed under his breath, and you could hear the tension in his voice. He said something to someone in the room before he bit down on his lap,

“Stay inside. Don’t go near them. I’m coming to get you.” He told you but you heard arguing on the other end of the line, Chan's voice raising as he yelled back at whoever was yelling at him.

"Chan..." you whispered, you already knew what he was going to say next. There was no way JYP was going to let him walk out of that building to come and save you.

“I’m at the company, but they’re not letting me leave. There’s media everywhere outside, and they won’t let me out,” he sounded helpless, something you weren’t used to hearing from him. Chan was always calm and composed, but now he was frantic, desperate to fix this. You hated that he was in this mess right now and you weren't right there to support him throughout it.

“I know you've got shit to deal with...B-But Chan, I don’t know what to do,” you admitted quietly, your hand shaking as you pressed the phone to your ear. Tears were building up in your eyes at the thought of walking outside and being mobbed...What if one of them hurt you? You were sure STAY wouldn't but there were some fans just crazy enough to try,

“It’s really bad, Chan.” You whispered as you saw people banging on the windows and screaming. There were police doing what they could to disburse the crowd but it wasn't exactly something that was just going to go away with a snap of their fingers.

You could hear him pacing on the other end, muttering to himself, trying to figure out a solution.

“I’ll call someone. I’ll get you out of there. Just... just stay away from the windows. I’ll figure this out.” At that moment, your boss appeared beside you, his expression serious as he glanced out at the growing crowd outside the building.

"Chan, my boss is here..." You kept your eyes on your boss who seemed worried about all of this,

"Baby, I promise you I'm going to fix this...T-Text me...or something, please...Please," The desperation dripping from Chan's voice made your chest tighten,

"Sure...I will, baby, I gotta go...I'll be okay."You promised before ending the phone call. Your boss straightened his tie, Jason wasn't usually known for being overly caring about his employees but right now he looked worried for you. As did a lot of other people inside of the office,

“Y/N, we need to get you out of here. Follow me,” he said softly, motioning toward a side exit. You looked back at your desk—at the normalcy you had only moments ago—and then at the chaos outside. Your heart pounded as you nodded at your boss.

Your boss led you through a hallway toward the back exit, shielding you from the chaos outside.

"Sarah is going to go outside with a hood up, she'll distract them long enough for you to make it to the car." Your boss explained as he walked with you hurriedly toward the parking lot. A lot of the focus was on the front doors as screams erupted.

When you finally reached your car and made it home you figured all of this mess would be over. That you could hold up inside of the house and forget this whole thing had happened but as you pulled up it was clear that wasn't on the agenda for the night. You froze at the sight in front of you. Your apartment was swarming with people—fans, stalkers, media. They were everywhere. Cameras were shoved in your windows as people scrambled to get the smallest information about you from them.

You couldn’t go home. Your home was overtaken by fans who luckily hadn't noticed your car yet so you started driving and with trembling fingers, you called Chan again.

“I can’t go home,” you told him as you did your best not to cry. There was no way you could drive if you were crying. Chan's silence was deafening. You knew he felt responsible, that he was desperate to fix this, but there was nothing he could do right now.

“I’m getting you a hotel, no one will know okay?” Chan finally said. You could hear him typing on his laptop and you bit down on your lip at the thought of it. You were never going to have your normal life again,

“Stay there tonight. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning, I promise.” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. You trusted him—he would fix this. But for now, all you could do was hide away, waiting for the storm to pass.

"I love you, Channie." You whispered as you continued to drive aimlessly until he gave you the directions.

"I love you too, I'm going to sort this...I'm not going to let you get dragged down." He promised before sending you all of the details you were going to need.

"I've booked it under Patricia Kennedy, no one will trace it to us," He said as you smiled softly at the thought of using a fake name, like some kind of spy.

Hours had passed, and even though the hotel room was silent, your mind was anything but. The dark curtains were drawn tight, shutting out the world outside, but it didn’t stop the gnawing anxiety in your chest. You had blocked the door with a chair, even though you knew it was overkill, but after everything that had happened today, you couldn’t help it. The thought of anyone else finding you made your skin crawl.

Your phone was still on DND and didn't dare try to see if you had phone calls from friends. All you knew was that your phone was close to death thanks to it overloading with numbers. You'd managed to private all of your social media accounts and uninstalled them to stop some of the notifications, and you'd tried to call your phone provider to block unknown numbers but there was too much for them to handle.

You sat curled up on the bed, your phone clutched tightly in your hand as you waited for Chan, he had called to tell you he was on his way, but time seemed to stretch, each minute dragging slower than the last. Even in the safety of the hotel, the fear refused to let go.

A knock came at the door, sharp and sudden.

Your heart jumped to your throat, and your grip tightened on the phone as you stared at the door. It was just a knock, but your body froze. What if it wasn’t him? What if someone had followed him here? What if—

“It’s me, baby. It’s Chan.” His voice came through the door, soft but certain.

“Please open the door.” You hesitated, your hand hovering over the door handle. A part of you was still scared, irrational thoughts swirling in your head. You couldn’t help it—the day had been too overwhelming, with too many eyes on you, and too much chaos.

"Yn, I promise, it’s just me. Please,” Chan’s voice was gentle but urgent, trying to calm your panic from the other side. He tapped on the door once again and you stared at the handle.

“I’m here now.” You exhaled shakily and, after a long pause, slowly removed the chair from the door and unlatched the lock. With trembling hands, you cracked the door open, just enough to peek out. The sight of Chan’s concerned face melted away some of your fear. He looked stressed and exhausted, his hair was in all kinds of directions and he looked unkept which wasn't like him at all,

“Hey,” he said softly, offering a small, reassuring smile. You stepped back and let him in, closing the door quickly behind him. As soon as the door shut, Chan’s arms were around you, pulling you into a tight, protective embrace. His familiar warmth was the only thing grounding you, and for the first time since the day started, you felt a tiny bit of safety. You hid your head in his neck and did your best not to cry, you didn't want to make him feel any worse than he already did about all of this,

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled against his chest, your voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t know if it was you.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. He stroked your back softly, he would have done the same thing if he was in your position.

“You’ve had a terrible day. I’m just glad I’m here now.” He gently pulled back to take a look around the room. His eyes landed on the tightly shut curtains, the chair you had used to block the door. His brow furrowed slightly, and you could see the worry etched in his face.

“You blocked the door?” he asked softly, though there was no judgment in his tone, only concern. You nodded, feeling a little embarrassed, you scratched the back of your neck as you glanced over at him.

“I didn’t want anyone getting in.” Chan reached out, pulling you back into his arms as if he could protect you from everything. There were already plans in motion to get a guard for you, there were some stationed all over the hotel as he stood there.

“You don’t have to worry about that anymore,” he whispered. “No one’s getting in here but me. I promise.” You leaned into him, letting out a shaky breath.

“I feel like I can’t breathe. Every time I think it’s over, it’s just... not.”

“I know,” Chan said softly, rubbing gentle circles on your back. The two of you had hidden for four years, and this was something you'd talked about but nothing could have prepared you for it,

“But we’re going to fix this. I’m going to fix this. You shouldn’t have to go through this, not because of me.” You pulled back slightly to look up at him, his expression filled with guilt. You shook your head at him and touched his face softly, running your thumb along his skin.

“It’s not your fault, Chan.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. He'd already fought with Changbin about it and apologised for it, he knew that accidents happened but he'd been stressed and took it out on the younger member.

“I should’ve been more careful. We’ve kept this a secret for so long, and now—”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “This isn’t on you. It’s just... an accident. It’s no one’s fault.” Chan’s eyes softened as he cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing against your cheek.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right,” he promised.

“I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll protect you, okay? I’ll keep you safe.” Tears welled in your eyes, but they weren’t from fear anymore. You knew Chan would do everything within his power - and more - to protect you, you had no doubt in your mind.

“I know,” you whispered, leaning into his touch. “I trust you.” Chan pulled you into another hug, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world outside. And for now, in the quiet of the hotel room, that was enough.

Days passed after the chaos of the leak, and things slowly began to settle. The initial frenzy had been overwhelming, but JYP Entertainment had stepped in, issuing a statement about the mistake, and calling for fans to respect your privacy. The company took legal action against those who crossed the line, and while the attention hadn’t completely disappeared, it was manageable now. Your numbers had been changed and you'd managed to delete most of the followers who were fans in your social media accounts.

Chan had kept his promise. He had stayed with you every step of the way, ensuring you were never left alone to deal with the aftermath. You spent a few days holed up in the hotel together, the world feeling small but safe as long as you were by his side. You mostly lived in his shirts and off room-serive which had been more fun than you'd been expecting.

One morning, you both sat on the hotel room bed, the soft glow of sunlight peeking through the curtains. The two of you were quiet, sipping on coffee, the stillness a welcome change from the chaos you had endured. It almost felt normal again.

“Are you ready to go home today?” Chan asked, glancing at you with a hopeful smile. You nodded, taking a deep breath, you'd been wanting to stay longer but only because you were enjoying being so close to him.

“Yeah. I think I’m ready.”

“Good,” he said softly.

“I know it's been a lot, but we made it through. I knew we would...” He ran his fingers over your skin softly and you smiled. You looked at him, really looked at him—his face filled with determination and love, he looked better than he did when he first arrived here. Even though things had spiralled out of control, you couldn’t imagine going through this without him by your side.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” you admitted. “You kept me sane.” Chan smiled warmly, setting his coffee cup down before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“We’re in this together, always. Nothing’s going to change that.” You squeezed his hand, feeling the truth in his words. After everything, you knew your relationship was stronger than ever. The world might have learned your secret, but it hadn’t broken what you had—it had only made you closer.

As the two of you stood, getting ready to head back home, Chan paused and turned to face you.

"I love you...okay? Them knowing, changes nothing. I promise you that we'll get into a routine," He told you as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you softly.

"I know baby, I love you too." You wrapped your arms around him and he backed you up toward the bed again making you giggle.

"Maybe we can spend a few more hours locked away though," He whispered in your ear.

#skz #skz x reader #skz imagine #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagine #stray kids imagines #bang chan #bang chan x reader #bang chan imagine #bang chan imagines #chan #chan x reader #chan imaigne #chan imagines

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jjkbambi · 7 days ago

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frat flu luigi mangione x virgin!reader 18+

summary!!! (smut inspired by this request) you’re set to interview frat president luigi mangione for the penn newsletter!

note: fratboy!luigi but not reallyyyy associated to that cheating demon storyline. written as a standalone but could be seen as a prequel if you squint. unedited but happy new years

warnings: long fic cuz we need a reason to be fuckin, sad bc luigi’s sad, comfort, an attempt at fluff, and of course smut, dubcon (he grinds on you while you’re sleeping), so dry humping, p in dis v (VIRGINNN)

luigi mangione, as described by his fraternity brothers: “cool,” “mega smart,” and “totally chill.” all phrases you could blindly draw from a hat to describe a stranger walking down the street.

surely, this couldn’t be your debut in penn today. a spotlight on the brightest mind on campus, phi kappa psi fraternity president luigi mangione. top of his class at a mysterious luxury private high school, started a hash brown business at sixteen, and, according to his linkedin, volunteers at local libraries, elderly homes, and animal shelters during breaks back home. he’s got a first aid/cpr certification, a bartending license, and a squeaky clean record.

“he doesn’t even complain on yelp,” you groan.

your friend, lacy, sits in the drivers seat, shaking her head. “maybe he’s just nice.”

you shoot a glare at her.

she raises her hands, defensive. “i’ve only heard good things!”

“oh, well, if he was really so nice, he wouldn’t have canceled on me a hundred and one times.” as if he’d heard you, your phone pings—his name flashing on the screen.

from luigi Hey pretty! Something came up today. So sorry. Can I see you another time?

“one hundred and two,” you declare, showing her your phone screen. at this point, it felt less like inconvenience and more like cruelty. his constant rejections, delayed responses, and last-minute reschedules were a relentless reminder of your looming failure to finish the piece on the phi kappa psi house. journalism club was going to fucking kill you.

“y/n, he literally could not have been nicer.” she finally puts the car into park. the both of you look outside.

frustration had been simmering for weeks, growing with every missed promise. almost two months ago, he’d smiled big and earnest, assuring you he’d meet for the interview—yet here you were, still waiting. the distance between you two seemed to stretch with every passing day, and you couldn’t summon the energy to pretend you still cared for niceties.

you’re outside his fraternity house, calling him, he surprises you by answering almost immediately, his voice low and hoarse, like he’s just woken up. “hello?”

“hi, it’s y/n.”

“oh,” he says, tone dipping as he cleared his throat. “hey, how are you?”

“yeah, i’m fine,” you say, unbuckling your seatbelt. “i just wanted to talk—”

“yeah, i know ‘m sorry,” he tells you, sincerity to be debated. “i’ve just been a bit all over the place these past few weeks.”

lacy mouths, “im staying in the car.”

nodding, you hop out, a familiar sense of anticipation lingering. it’s not your first time at the fraternity house, but each visit feels different. the mansion, though grand, has a worn charm—earth-toned walls and overgrown grass, with boys constantly darting across the yard. trash cans overflow with aluminum cans, remnants of the never-ending chaos.

“no, i get it, i do. i, you know, am busy all the time.”

“oh, i’m sure,” he says. “are you free next weekend?”

you didn’t even have to check your schedule to know you were free. but you were already here. “well, actually, i just, um…” you feel a bit of your confidence deflating as you trespass their yard. your face flushes and you suddenly feel the eyes of the other brothers staring at your silhouette like curious dogs, unsure of whether to bark or bite. “i was just passing by the neighborhood, i was wondering if i could come over now?”

he yawns. “what? you mean right now?”

“is that alright?”

“how far away are you?”

“yeah, uh, i’m outside your front door.”

“oh?” he says, clearly taken off-guard. the embarrassment finally settles in. what the hell were you doing?

“you know what, never mind. i’m so sorry,” you flush, spinning on your heel and rushing down the steps, avoiding eye contact with the other guys.

you’re not sure if it’s your heart stopping or the phone call ending, but it’s in that moment that the blackwood door opens. you turn around, and the brown-haired boy steps through, looking disheveled, with dark bags under his eyes as if he hasn’t slept. though, despite that, he’s in gray sweatpants and a long sleeved black compression shirt.

“y/n, come on in,” luigi says, his voice booming, almost too loud for the quiet pennsylvania street. he glances toward the team of players in the front yard, bringing attention to you all over again. “this is the journalist for the penn.”

you shuffle up the steps again. “it’s called penn daily.”

“right,” he nods, eyes searching your body up and down. “you want a jacket?”

you’re in leggings and a tank top. you’re shivering. “no, no, i like the cold.”

the brown-haired boy shakes his head, grabbing one off the coat rack anyway and tossing it over to you.

“you’ll like the jacket even better.”

as he guides you through the house, the weight of the silence surrounds you. you’ve only ever seen the place during parties—neon LED lights casting strange shadows, tables covered in empty Solo cups and suspicious piles of random powders. it always felt like a place of unrecognizable chaos, where everyone was too busy to think about much else but the next round of shots or whatever game they were playing. but today, in the quiet of the late morning, the house feels different. the lights aren’t flashing, the music isn’t blasting, and there’s no throng of people rushing around. it feels oddly intimate, even though it’s still just as cluttered as always.

“is this what it looks like clean?” you ask, only half-joking.

“be nice,” luigi barks, tone plain as he rolled his eyes in faux annoyance. “we had a long night yesterday,” he gestures to the crowds of twentysomethings outside, one group cleaning off the mountain of soda and beer cans off the plastic gray tables, the other playing ping pong. “another long night ahead. you should come.”

the invitation doesn’t sway you, you’re distracted by his face. though his curly hair is neatly cut, and his chocolate brown eyes hold a quiet, dark intensity. his tall frame fills up the room, the way he stands commanding attention without trying. his features are sharp, framed by thick eyebrows, and his smile is small, barely there, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. he offers it to you as if it’s expected. there’s an underlying feeling you can’t shake. it’s like you can tell it’s forced. you’ve seen enough of him in passing (and in stalking) to know this isn’t the usual “luigi” you’re used to seeing at parties or around campus.

you bite the inside of your cheek. “you know, if today’s a bad day, you don’t have to—��

“no, babe, it’s fine,” he says, the term rolling off his tongue like it’s second nature.

in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve picked up on his knack for nicknames and gathered you probably shouldn’t be flattered—all the boys in this frat were entirely too flirty.

he pushes the door to his bedroom open, stepping aside to let you in. “shouldn’t take too long, right?”

“sure,” you lie as you slip past him, fingers brushing over the notepad tucked in your back pocket, your mind racing with questions you’re suddenly too aware of.

“well then, it’s no rush,” he says.

quickly, you notice the collection of allergy medication at his desk. a heinous amount of nyquil, half-empty bottles scattered among crumpled tissues and unopened water bottles. it’s almost comical, the way his organized chaos betrays the “untouchable golden boy” image you’d pieced together. his desk, once probably neat and deliberate, now looks like the scene of a losing battle against the flu. curious, you ask, “bad fever?”

luigi laughs dryly. “something bad, that’s for sure.”

you feel yourself sink at the admission. instinctively, you reach up to feel his forehead, your fingers hovering just shy of his skin. it’s a simple gesture, something you wouldn’t think twice about doing for one of your roommates, but as soon as your hand makes contact, he stiffens, his body recoiling ever so slightly. the movement is subtle but enough to make you hesitate, pulling your hand back as his lashes flicker up to meet yours.

“jesus christ,” you gasp. “you’re burning up.”

luigi doesn’t answer immediately, his gaze lingering on you just a moment too long, his eyes a little softer than usual.

“think i’ll be fine,” he says, but there’s an edge to his voice, like he’s trying to brush it off. it feels more like he’s saying it for both of you than for himself.

a pang of guilt hits you hard—a reminder of how you’d pushed for this interview while he was clearly feeling terrible. all those ridiculous, relentless messages, the nagging about deadlines while he was probably just trying to get through the day. god, you feel like an idiot.

you cup his cheeks, serious. “you should really get to bed.”

“what, and miss the privilege of being interrogated by the penn’s finest?” he teases, leaning into you. you’re struck at how warm he was, how utterly unprofessional you were coming off as, how awful it would be to pull away.

the article, you remind yourself, inching away. “if you pass out mid-question, it’s not going to make for a great article.”

“least i’ll be a shoo-in for the sympathy vote next semester,” luigi says with a wry chuckle, his tone light but laced with something deeper as he glances back up at you, almost as if testing your reaction.

“come on,” he reaches for your hand when you frown, interlocking your fingers and swaying you. he doesn’t pull you too close, something about the way he’s looking at you has you sure he’ll never give you the satisfaction, but your fingers interlock and there’s a hint of a smirk playing at the edge of his lips, smugness plain. “i couldn’t let you walk out here so fast. you know what they would say about me if they thought i let down a pretty girl like you?”

you feel your face go pink but your ego won’t let his flirting power last. his forehead was burning hotter than sauna, he probably didn’t know what was even happening. “you look like you haven’t even slept,” you say, matter-of-factly. “would you just sit down?”

“trust me, this headache’ll be gone before you can even say sto meglio con te,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

he grins as your brow furrows. “you could put that in your article. successful, speaks italian, looks like shit.”

“i didn’t mean that. i’m just worried.” ignoring the fluttering in your stomach and his persistent gaze, you turn your phone over. “i could order you some soup. there’s a really nice pho place down the road—”

“what’re you, my girlfriend?”

“mangione,” you sigh. “you’re being impossible.”

“baby,” he says, the word slipping from his lips with a teasing familiarity that catches you off guard. it pierces straight through your ego, sharp and unexpected. “i promise, ive got way more interesting things to talk about than allergies. come on, ask me.”

before you can react, another voice calls from outside, and you hear hurried footsteps approaching the door. luigi hesitates for a second, glancing at you. a younger group of fraternity brothers peeks in, looking urgent.

“hey, we’ve got a problem with the fundraising paperwork—someone made a mistake with the donations, and it needs to be fixed or we’re going to miss the deadline,” one of them explains, his voice tight with stress.

“who was in charge of that?” luigi asks, a lilt of accusation in his tone.

the younger twentysomethings look around, feigning innocence, avoiding eye contact. “whatever, it doesn’t matter,” he mutters, rubbing his eyes. “i’ll take care of it.”

he squeezes your hand before he leaves the room, saying, “stay put for me.”

so you sit on his navy blue bed, stiff and idle, your mind wandering as you wait. you text lacy and tell her you’ll catch up with her later as the constant sound of chaos fills your ears. you hear the house scrambling through the halls and luigi’s answering calls and questions, directing people, moving them out the way. the speakers for the party this weekend just got delivered, the delta 3 girls are inviting them to volunteer at their annual car wash, and there’s a leak in the basement that needs immediate attention. after what feels like hours, you can’t keep your eyes open anymore. exhaustion pulls at you, and without even realizing it, you fall asleep on his bed, the rhythmic noise of his busy life buzzing around you.

“y/n,” luigi exhales as he finally re-enters the room, his exhaustion evident in every step.

he’s greeted at the sight of your body sprawled across his bed, eyes fluttered shut with his jacket blanketed over your silhouette. he’s not so sure what comes over him, but he locks the door. your peaceful slumber is a stark change from the drunk mayhem on the other side of the door, and he’s intent on keeping the peace. the bed dips under his weight as he sinks down beside you, too tired for niceties. without a word or a second’s hesitation, he pulls the jacket off you and brings your tired body closer to his.

it starts off innocent. his arms are wrapped around your stomach, your body limp against his. he cradles into the nape of your neck—and you’re so soft and you smell so good, he can’t help himself. he tells himself he won’t take it too far. starting with small, sweet kisses against the side of your neck, almost tickling you out of your unconsciousness. you sleepily squirm under his hold and he’s straining in his sweatpants before he can make sense of it.

“you’re so pretty,” luigi whispers. it would be a waste, really, to have you this close without touching you. using you.

he grinds his hips against your plump ass. he’s so fucking hard, he really can’t help it. he has to have you, but he can’t bring himself to wake you—you’d been so sweet to him earlier, doe eyes wide with concern—he figures he has to return the favor somehow, right? letting you nap in his bed feels like the least he can do.

“you’ve got no idea how often i lose my mind thinkin’ about this, about you,” he confesses. the noise outside is loud, chaotic—a world away from the quiet intensity between you. it’s too loud for anyone else to know of the secret unfolding here, in the space of his touch and the weight of his gaze.

he’s rougher now, tightening his grip on your hips as he jerks himself into you. you were so worried about him earlier. you’d want this, wouldn’t you? to help him out, make him feel better?

his defense of plausible deniability falls apart piece by piece. one of his hands stray from your hip to your clothed core, rubbing you, desperate for friction. he groans into your back. you were wet, he was sure of it, he had to make sure of it. he slips his hands down your leggings and rushes to palms your wetness. he has to make sure you’re feeling just as good as he was.

you shudder at the touch, slowly bringing yourself from rem to reality. the room is hotter than you remembered, and you almost shriek as you realize luigi’s hands had been all over you. he’s quick to put his hand over your mouth, talking in your ear, “‘m sorry baby, couldn’t resist.”

his sloppy wet kisses are hot against your neck, so frantic, so desperate, so needy, his stubble unnerving you as you squirm under his hold. you can hardly make sense of what’s happening. “luigi.” you mewl as he grinds his clothed cock into you. “what’re you doing?”

he moans at the perfect blend of innocence and surprise twined through your voice. its undeniable now — he can’t spend another second not experiencing you.

“you said you wanted to make me feel better, yeah?” luigi grunts. before you can respond, he’s slipping a finger into your wet pussy. you jolt at the wild unfamiliar storm that grasps you, trying to turn your head over to him, to look at him, to ask him what the hell had gotten into him. he kisses you when your head tilts, his free hand wrapping around your throat.

“that’s so much fuckin’ better,” he tells you, stretching your core out with another two fingers. he’s so eager—so intent on making a mess of you, you’re almost humiliated at how easily you fall apart underneath.

you quiver and shake, and try to twist out of his groping hands, but he doesn’t budge, pressing harder into you. “you’re doin’ so fuckin’ good for me, sweetheart,” he swears.

“luigi,” you cry, helpless. the friction felt so hot it made you light-headed. the pleasures storms out any logical part of you. “i don’t—i don’t know what to do.”

of course you don’t. you were entirely too sweet, too well-meaning, too fuckin’ stupid to realize how badly he wanted you. running up to him after his gym workout, bright-eyed as you asked him to hang out. not on a date, not even as friends, but for a stupid fucking college paper. he should’ve taken you right there, in the parking lot, let you scream on it so loud the entire campus knew you were his, saved all this goddamn time.

“you’re a fuckin’ virgin?” luigi asks. he needs to hear you say it.

he rips his hand from your aching cunt and you cry out at the loss of friction.

“yes,” you pout.

“any good journalist knows to use specifics.” you see a cocky grin etch onto his lips before he flips you over and brings you in for a proper kiss, your arms wrapping around his neck as he sinks into you. you kiss him back. you wanted this, whatever it was. “tell me again.”

“i’m a virgin,” you admit, reddening.

he smiles against your cheek before kissing you again—“been waiting for me, yeah? you want me to take you?”

“luigi, please.”

“what’s that?” he says, cruel.

you pout again and try to please him, rushing into another kiss. he captures your lips gladly, but refuses to bring you to the satisfaction of salvation.

all too mean, he points out, “you don’t even know what you’re begging for.”

at this point you were sure you could get drunk off the warmth of him. if you bucked up into the air, you could feel his bulge raging against his sweatpants.

“i want you,” you whine. “i mean—i just—i thought you wanted me too..?”

“of course i do. look at you.” luigi grunts before he strips off his shirt, ripping down your leggings with a force that pulls your body down the bed with him. his dark gaze drifts down.

you flush at the sight of the wet mess all over your legs. “you did all that just for me?” luigi mocks. “you want me that fuckin’ bad?”

“yes,” you have no idea why but you do. you can’t imagine a world where you walk away now and never experience him.

luigi never had any intention of being nice about this. his morals and his plans for the night unraveled the moment his eyes found you sprawled across his bed. harshly, he grips your hips—sure to leave marks, hoping for it—before pounding the entirety of his length into your purity.

the stretch scorches, searing into you. you see white, red, and hell all at once. “luigi—!” you cry out.

“you’re so good,” luigi assures. he tries to pace himself as you fall apart underneath him. he tries he tries he tries—but your inexperienced pussy molds around him, so perfect and wet, he can’t help himself.

you feel everything but perfect. unnerved and wild and overwhelmed, whimpering underneath him like a sick puppy. he fucks into you like he’s itching to see if you’ll break.

“it hurts,” you whine.

“you look so fuckin’ pretty with your legs spread,” luigi says. “can’t get enough of this perfect pussy.”

you paw at him, desperate for sacred ground, grip landing on his arms, hard and toned underneath your fingertips. he smirks. “feelin’ me up, sweetheart? you like my arms?”

the sound of skin slapping overtakes your corner of the world. you’d seen him before, but never like this. you’ve never had anything like this.

“luigi.” you whimper. “i can’t, you’re so big—”

“i know, pretty, i know,” he murmurs, kissing the running wet tears down your cheeks. “d’you remember the night you went up to me after the gym? d’you remember what you were wearing?”

you can’t help but claw your fingers deep into his arm muscles, desperate to find a vice for the pain. “oh my god,” you gasp. he pounds into you relentlessly and before you realize, you’re rolling into waves of foreign pleasure.

“stupid fuckin’ tank top,” luigi groans. pleasure storms you as he gets more brazen. he pulls down your camisole, lapping at your tits, biting you, marking you. “wind blew over and i got to see your perfect fuckin’ nipples. wanted to tear you apart right there.”

“what? really?”

“had to jack off in my fuckin’ car thinking about you, about this,” he murmurs before smashing his mouth back onto yours—and this time, you feel more prepared to bear it, melting into his warmth, lips perfectly reunited. you’re shivering under the heat. he fucks you hard into the mattress, hellbent on breaking you in. you’re sure he’s accomplished it already. you’re dizzy and light and on top of the goddamn world.

he sees through you. “fuckin’ close?”

“i-i think so—”

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he muses. “stupid fuckin’ virgin, doesn’t even know when she’s gonna cum.”

“you’re so mean,” you whine.

“yeah, you think so?” he growls, his voice low and dangerous as his hand strikes your cheek. the sting blooms like fire, another cruel signature of his dominance, a mark left behind in his endless quest to tarnish the golden purity you wear so effortlessly. his wicked touch moves down to your delicate clit and the sparks of pleasure turn into storms. you’re done for, waves of white gushing around him as you cry out his name.

“oh god,” luigi groans. “such a good girl, creamin’ on it like that. so perfect.”

the jolt of pleasure within you only makes you more sensitive. this time, when his hands return to your body, they’re clamped around your neck. he’s pulling into you, punishing your delicate cunt. as you quiver and froth, his thrusts grow sloppy and he rasps again—this time more guttural, more intense—and soon enough you feel his huge cock twitch inside of you, sending streams of his seed into your stomach.

he joins your silhouette on the bed, his warmth melting into yours as he pulls you close. his arms wrap around you, steady and secure, and his lips press softly to your forehead.

“‘m sorry,” he murmurs into your hair, his voice low and soothing. “didn’t mean to get so rough.”

you struggle to find the breath, then the words, “no, i—i think it was fine.”

he looks at you, his smile fading into something more thoughtful, his gaze deepening with quiet admiration. “just fine?” he asks, his voice laced with a hint of playful disbelief.

you meet his gaze, your heart fluttering, and with a mischievous glint in your eye, you hum,

“penn’s finest.”

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joelscurls · 1 year ago

Text

give in to temptation

pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

words: 5.5k

summary: you're in a relationship now — a good, healthy relationship — that doesn't stop you from texting your ex Javi late at night.

warnings: 18+ minors dni, post Narcos s3, porn with plot, smoking, alcohol consumption, explicit smut, sexting, infidelity (I do not condone cheating, but unfortunately it's hot when it's with Javi), reference to masturbation (f), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, use of pet names (cariño, querida, baby, etc.); lmk if I missed anything!

a/n: hi! enjoy 5kish words of dubious morals bc I couldn't get this idea out of my head :)

Humidity clings to the walls, bedsheets strewn across your legs damp with sweat. You kick at them aimlessly, and the cotton grips tighter to slick skin.

In the curve of your palm rests your phone, ringer switched off and brightness turned all the way down — the last thing you want is to wake your boyfriend, dozing next to you as you text another man.

Your fingers are clammy where they wrap around metal, sweat pooling in the divots between your knuckles.

This is wrong; you know it’s wrong, just like every time preceding this one. But the guilt does nothing to slow the adrenaline racing through your veins. If anything, it makes your heart thump harder.

That, and the words pixelated on the tiny screen of your flip-phone.

Javi [2:03am]: I’ve been thinking about you all day, cariño. Got me so hard.

You’d met Javier Peña just over a year ago.

A young woman alone at the bar, you’d drawn him in like a moth to a flame. He had dark brooding eyes and a savior complex that’d been made more apparent with each story he’d shared about his time as a DEA attaché in Colombia, from which he’d recently returned.

Do you miss it? you’d asked, nursing a martini.

Like hell, he’d said. But I have nothing left to give.

I don’t know if I believe you, you’d countered with a wink.

Not an hour later, you’d found yourself in his living room, dress hiked up to your waist as he devoured you.

Sex with Javi was easy, mindless. For a while, his body served as a refuge for you after shitty days at work and arguments with your overbearing mother. A lone beacon in the fog, he was always more than willing to help you forget the stressors in your life. And your own name.

It was passionate, and filthy, and sticky — left your legs trembling and your head dizzy — each and every time.

With him, you didn’t have to talk. Didn’t have to think. It was just sex, with no strings and no labels. Your relationship, if you could call it that, was perpetuated by the transcendent pleasure you felt in the spaces between words, when your mouths were preoccupied.

But when your birthday came and went and you found yourself another year older, an aching feeling settled in your gut — a feeling that time had begun to pass more quickly than it used to. And on its heels came the desire for something more, something you knew Javi was not willing to provide: a relationship.

The decision to end things was mutual, amicable. It was the easiest “breakup” you’d ever gone through. Maybe because it wasn’t a “breakup” at all.

A few weeks later, you’d met Nathan, a law student with a polite disposition and an eagerness to settle down. He’d treated you well, the type to open doors for you and ask about your day. On all fronts, he was a good man — a little boring, but good.

After a month, you made it official. After two, he moved into your place.

And you stopped thinking about Javi, about the way his large hand had fit perfectly around your throat, the way he’d been able to coax you to orgasm in two different languages. No, you only thought about the man in front of you, the one with the steadily growing collection of argyle ties and the unstamped passport.

Sex with Nathan was admittedly different. He didn’t make you cum as quickly or as easily; your body didn’t crave his with the same amount of fervor it had Javier’s. But it was loving, sweet, what any woman would want…should want.

And it was normal that you thought about your ex sometimes when your current partner laid his weight on top of you, that you imagined a different mouth slotted against your neck or on your tits. Because certainly, everyone did that every once in a while. It was harmless.

As long as you never uttered his name out loud, he’d remain only in your head, lost to time to exist there forevermore.

But then came the day in the grocery store, on your date to the cereal aisle to restock Nathan’s favorite, bran flakes. He’d materialized like a ghost of good sex’s past.

You didn’t dare speak to him, didn’t trust yourself to. Under the bright fluorescent lights, you’d felt your palms begin to sweat, your throat constrict, eyes glued to the selection of boxes in front of you. But while Nathan debated between store brand and name brand, you’d snuck another cautious glance at him.

Javi’s expression was unreadable. He’d looked between you and Nathan as if he were trying to solve a rubix cube. One he was becoming increasingly frustrated by. He’d gripped the handle of his shopping cart so tightly, the skin on his knuckles appeared near translucent.

And then he’d disappeared, tiny wheels on the carriage screeching, noise barely audible over your pulse.

The first text came later that night.

Are you seeing someone? it’d read.

Yes, you’d replied. But that doesn’t mean we can’t talk.

You’d quickly established ground rules: messages would only be exchanged after midnight, never two nights in a row, no calls, and — most importantly — Nathan would never find out.

Okay, Javi had said. Just one more rule: don’t use his name with me.

To your right, Nathan snores, the singular catch of an inhale in his throat, and the noise jolts you, face heating as if you’ve been caught.

Then he shifts, turns on his side, away from you. You feel a strange wash of relief. A semblance of privacy that you shouldn’t be after.

You respond to Javier with your tongue between your teeth.

You [2:04am]: thinking about me doing what?

Javi [2:06am]: Riding me. Your tits in my face. My hands on your ass.

Your breath catches, attention abruptly pulled to the incessant throbbing between your legs.

You definitely shouldn’t sneak to the bathroom and touch yourself. Shouldn’t send Javi a grainy photo of your fingers in your panties. Shouldn’t make yourself cum with your ex-lover’s name on your lips.

Not for the third time this week.

But when your cunt inadvertently clenches around nothing, your judgment is suddenly clouded.

With one last glance at the sleeping form beside you, you clamber to your feet and tiptoe down the hallway, wetness dripping down your thighs as you go.

The bathroom door closes with a quiet click. You fumble for the lightswitch, eyes reflexively squeezing shut when the room brightens.

You hover over the sink, steadying yourself against porcelain with one hand while you type furiously with the other.

You [2:10am]: yeah? you wanna suck on my tits?

The mirror parallel you reflects something out of a thriller, your pupils fully dilated and your forehead glistening with sweat. You almost don’t recognize the woman staring back at you in all her depravity.

You slump to the floor. Rest with your back to the side of the tub.

Javi [2:11am]: Dying to. Always felt so fucking perfect in my mouth.

Desperate fingers slip under the hem of your shorts, into your panties. The phone balances precariously in your other hand, thumb stumbling over buttons on the keypad.

You [2:12am]: I miss your cock.

Javi [2:13am]: That’s right, querida. Best you ever had, huh?

You [2:13am]: Yes. Always made me feel so fucking good.

Javi [2:15am]: Fuck. Are you touching yourself?

You swirl two digits at your entrance, amply coating them in your slick before dragging them up to your swollen clit. You can’t stifle the moan that slips past your lips.

You [2:16am]: yes

Javi [2:16am]: good girl

The phone distractedly tumbles from your grasp, clinking against tile as you begin to work yourself toward the brink.

And then — there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

The room spins, walls suddenly shrinking in on you as you wrench your hand out of your panties. Nathan’s voice on the other side is muffled, by the exhaust fan and by the ringing in your ears. But you can just decipher his words, his voice laden with sleep.

“Babe? Are you okay? I thought I heard-“

“Fine, I’m uh, I’m fine,” you say, scrambling to your feet, wiping wet fingers on your shorts.

The doorknob jostles, and it dawns on you then that you’d forgotten to fucking lock it.

“No! Don’t come in,” you sputter. The door hitches, less than an inch cracked. “I just had a stomach ache, but I’m okay now. I’ll be back in bed in a minute.”

“Oh.” He yawns. Pulls it shut again. “Okay.”

You brace yourself against the sink, struggling to slow your racing heart.

With a flush of the empty toilet, Nathan’s footsteps recede down the hall and out of earshot. You wash your hands, then, fingers shaking under the stream of lukewarm water.

You dry them hastily, not bothering to pick up the towel when it slides off the rail and onto the floor.

You [2:21am]: gotta go. sorry.

Javi [2:22am]: ???

Nathan is far too kind the following morning. He sets a plate of buttered toast and a mug of peppermint tea out for you on the kitchen table, and presses a nauseatingly gentle kiss to your forehead as you eat.

His amber eyes scan you like he’s searching for any indicators that you’re still hurting, fingers anxiously carding through his sandy hair.

You’re sure he’s clocked the dark circles marking your undereyes — not that he knows the real reason for them.

“I’m fine,” you promise when you feel him staring.

“Are you sure?” he probes. “The noise you made was…intense; you sounded really pained.”

Pained? Not exactly.

“I know.” You stuff the last bite of toast into your mouth. Tilt the empty plate toward him.

“But I’m okay; see? Even have an appetite this morning. It was just a weird bug or something.”

The lie burns on the way out, scalds your throat. But Nathan buys it. Doesn’t ask any further questions.

Still, he tells you to take it easy today on his way out the door.

You can’t look him in the eye when you insist that you will.

You call out of work, too sick with self-loathing to show your face in the office. Instead, you mope around all day, attempt to distract yourself with the overflowing hamper of laundry in the closet.

It’s futile though, your brain paralyzed by thoughts of Nathan finding out about the affair, and the clothes remain unwashed.

He returns that evening with a plastic bag in his clutch, the local pharmacy’s logo printed on the front.

“Here,” he says, pulling out a brand new heating pad. “I realized last night that we didn’t have one of these laying around.”

You know, at that moment, that you need to end things with Javi.

Nathan is good to you. He loves you with actions, not just words. Thinks of you before he thinks of himself, in every situation. And you — you’re cheating on him. Taking advantage of him. Not even trying to be what he deserves.

You’ll try harder. To love him, to think of him. No longer will you give in to brainless, animalistic needs. Surely, you can mimic the passion you have with someone else if you just try.

Try, try, try. You can do it.

Sleep evades you that night, coming in brief stints and leaving you breathless when you wake.

In those conscious moments, the analog clock in the corner of the room taunts you, glaring red neon making your head pound.

After three straight hours of tossing and turning, you decide it can’t wait any longer.

You fish your cellphone off the nightstand. Snap it open.

You [3:23am]: We need to end this before things get ugly.

You’re sure he won’t be awake this late; not without reason. But then — the screen blinks.

Javi [3:24am]: Nothing’s going to get ugly. Please, cariño.

You [3:24am]: I almost got caught last night. I don’t want to hurt him.

Javi [3:25am]: Can we talk about this? Javi [3:25am]: In person?

Your heart palpitates. For a moment, you swear it stops altogether.

You [3:26am]: What the hell? No Javi, I can’t.

Javi [3:27am]: C’mon. Just talk. Don’t you think you owe me that?

Your eyes flit to Nathan.

You watch him for a long moment: the steady rise and fall of his chest, the slouch of his shoulders, the gape of his mouth.

He’s well and truly asleep. You’re sure you could sneak away without him waking. Slip out the door and get a cab to Javier’s, talk things through, and be back in bed before the sun rises — before Nathan even knows you’ve left.

And then everything will be just as it was before you messed this up. You can leave Javi in the past, where he belongs.

Of course, you’re not just going to talk. Deep in your bones, you know that. Know that when he’s there in front of you, you’ll be too weak to resist any of his advances.

Still, you play coy. Ignore the spring of excitement tightening in your abdomen.

In a move of finality, one which you know you won’t be able to come back from, you stand. Make your way into your closet to pull some pants and a t-shirt on, your cell phone clutched in your hand.

You [3:30am]: Fine.

Javier sends you his address — as if you’d have forgotten it. As if the name of his apartment complex isn’t permanently etched behind your eyelids, along with the wide slope of his shoulders and the plush of his bottom lip.

When the cab pulls up to the curb, the driver is visibly concerned. His bushy, gray brows thread together and his narrowed eyes catch yours in the rearview more than once on the drive across town.

It’s only when you reach Javi’s building and hand over your fare that the man speaks.

“Are you alright, sweetheart? Quite late for you to be out on your own.”

His voice crackles, the smell of cigarette smoke heavy on his breath, and it’s strangely comforting.

“Yeah,” you promise as you push the door open and step out.

He rolls his window down, anxiously watching as you maneuver your way to the front door. And then he’s driving off, headlights vanishing into the thick night.

Javier lets you up on the first buzz. He’s waiting for you in the entryway of his apartment, leaning with a large hand pressed to the doorframe.

Your mouth goes dry at the sight of him: shirtless, bronze skin cast in the dim yellow light of the corridor.

His eyes rake over you the moment you’re in front of him, lingering when they catch on your collarbone, your breasts, your legs. He looks so imposing like this. You find yourself unable to move; frozen under his silent, lustful gaze.

“Are you — can I come in?” you ask meekly.

He nods then, a slow lift of his chin. Steps backward into darkness. You will yourself to take one step, and then another, following him over the threshold and past the point of no return.

It feels so odd to be here, in his space, with the intention of doing anything other than fucking. If you look close enough, you swear you can make out the shape of your body imprinted in the couch cushions, can hear lingering echoes of climaxes reached with your face shoved into one of his decorative pillows — can feel them, too.

Arousal pulls between your thighs. You ignore it.

You wonder how many other women have been here since you, have taken Javi in their hands or their mouths or their cunts. How many names that aren’t yours has he chanted in the throes of passion?

And — moreover — why do you care?

You don’t. You definitely don’t.

Javi pours you a glass of wine, fills a crystal with whiskey for himself. He flicks a lamp on, casting the room in an orange glow, and settles into the couch You follow his lead, perching yourself on one of the arm rests apprehensively.

“So,” you start. “About what we’ve been…doing-“

He cuts you off with a quirk of his brow, a flinch of his jaw.

“Javi,” you try again. “This has to — we can’t-”

“You’re sure you want to break it off, cariño?” His voice comes out low, dark.

And the thing is — you’re not sure. You wish you were, wish you had the strength to tell him definitively that it’s over, to go home to your boyfriend and block Javi’s number on the way out.

But the flex of his bicep when he hooks his arm behind his head, the knowing smirk playing on his lips, his cock — which you can’t see, but know is long and thick under his jeans — it all makes your head feel heavy.

You let the weight of it drop between your shoulders, hang there as you silently search for just a particle of sanity left in your being. You come up empty.

“Fuck,” you hiss, claw your fingers into your scalp. “This is — fuck.”

Leather groans under Javi’s weight. He stands. Steps in front of you.

You don’t dare look at him, not until he pinches your chin between two fingers and forces your gaze to meet his. His eyes are charcoal-black, something devious swimming behind blown pupils.

“Baby,” he croons. “Why did you really come here?”

You play dumb. “What do you mean? To — to talk.”

His thumb skates along the underside of your jaw, soft and placating.

“We’re not really gonna talk — are we?”

Your head spins, mind clouded by Javier’s words, his touch. You sense yourself losing resolve just as he pulls you upright by both hands.

You’re so close like this; can taste the whiskey on his breath, can feel the warmth of his exhale against your skin.

His mouth moves to the shell of your ear, voice a mere whisper when he speaks again.

“Wanna know what I think, querida?” he asks, palm flattening at your lower back, pushing you flush against him. “I think you came here because texting wasn’t enough anymore, huh? Think you missed me.”

And the truth is, you have missed him — painfully so. You’ve missed the timbre of his voice, the caress of his hands, the stretch of his cock. All just in reach, tangible for the first time in so long.

Your need for him borders on carnal. The feeling snakes its way up from your stomach into the cavern of your ribcage, splays its weight across your delicate, pounding heart.

And then the rational part of your brain whirs weakly to life.

What are you doing?

“I have a boyfriend,” you say. You’re not sure who you’re reminding.

“Mhm,” Javi mutters, deft fingers peeling the fabric of your t-shirt up, up, up your body. You don’t stop him.

“And does your boyfriend —“ he kneels down, presses a kiss where exposed skin meets denim — “make you feel as good as I do, cariño?”

You can’t answer that. It wouldn’t be right. Because any of this is.

“Javi — I,” you try, cut off abruptly by dull teeth in the flesh of your waist. You yelp, the sweet sting quickly dissipating as he pauses. Pulls back.

“You can say it,” he goads with a wicked smirk. “I won’t tell him.”

“He — no,” the words leave you before you even feel them in your mouth, and then you’re cursing yourself. You can’t take it back — it’s too late. Javi knows, you know. The only one still in the dark is Nathan.

Javier says your name. His tone is different, soberingly serious.

“Tell me to stop.”

Fuck.

“Tell me to stop,” he repeats, “and I’ll stop.”

“I can’t,” you whisper, so quiet you barely hear yourself.

“Cariño-”

“I can’t,” you stammer, louder. “I — fuck, Javi. Please.”

“Please?”

He knows what you’re asking for; he just needs to hear you say it.

“Please fuck me.”

In an instant, he’s standing back up, grasping at your sides and impatiently guiding you onto the couch. He brackets you against the cushions, one hand splayed next to your head on the backrest, the other popping the button of your jeans open.

You lift your ass as he tugs them down your legs, pulls them past your ankles and leaves them in a heap on the floor. And then he’s moving down your body, kneeling at your altar and prying you open for him.

You surrender to him willingly, desperation growing when he pulls your panties aside and gazes at your glistening sex, transfixed by you.

“This gorgeous pussy,” he hums, leaning down to taste you.

“Yeah?” you breathe. “You miss it?”

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he groans. Dips his tongue into the apex of your heat, refamiliarizing himself with your nectar before licking a languid stripe up to your throbbing clit.

You writhe under him, beg with wordless whines and whimpers for more. He knows your sounds, knows their tells, soothes you with a gentle shh against your cunt.

His lips wrap around your clit, then, envelope it completely as he starts to suckle, and the sudden sensation makes you buck your hips.

“Javi — fuck, oh — holy-”

He retreats, mouth shiny with your arousal. “What is it, baby? Your boyfriend doesn’t eat your pussy like this?”

“He doesn’t,” you admit breathlessly. Javi clicks his tongue. Faux-pouts at you.

His lips reattach to your clit and you curse.

“Fuck, Javi, he — he’s never-“

The half-admission stops him in his tracks. He stares back up at you with narrowed eyes.

“Cariño, don’t tell me he doesn’t go down on you?”

Your face heats. “He — he says he doesn’t like to do it.”

Suddenly, Javi looks livid.

His fingernails dig into the meat of your inner thighs mindlessly. You watch his lip twitch and his eyes roll to the ceiling.

He’s unaffected by much these days — but Javi clearly doesn’t take kindly to a man not pleasuring his woman. Especially when you are the woman in question.

“Pendejo,” he murmurs.

“Javi,” you whine. “Please.”

Your pleading voice seems to snap him out of it. Or at least remind him of the task at hand.

He returns his attention to your dripping pussy with one final huff. “Gonna take care of you baby, don’t worry.”

You anchor yourself with fingers of one hand twisted in the dark, sweaty curls at the crown of his head. Two digits on the other pinch at one of your hardened nipples, just as Javier begins to swipe his tongue back and forth over your clit.

“Fuck,” you sigh, draping your trembling legs over his shoulders.

He licks your cunt like he fears you’re going to melt, lathes over your clit again and again with the wide flat of his tongue. The wet squelch of him slurping at you, eager to catch every last drop of your arousal, bounces off the walls obscenely.

You hope, fleetingly, that his neighbors are heavy sleepers. Better yet, that they’re out of town.

Maybe he’s putting in extra effort because he knows now that your boyfriend isn’t doing this for you at home. Or maybe he’s just better at it than you remember. Regardless, you find yourself completely overcome with ecstasy, close to falling apart on Javi’s tongue in a matter of minutes.

As soon as he curls two fingers into your cunt, you’re gone, cumming so hard your vision pulls and your thighs shake.

You sing Javi’s name like a hymn. It rolls off your tongue effortlessly, naturally. Like it’s made for you to recite.

He lets you come down, soothes you with gentle hands stroking along your thighs, soft lips pressed to your sensitive mound.

When your breathing evens, he lifts off of his haunches, motions for you to lay flat on the couch with your neck supported by the armrest. And then he shucks his pants off, his cock immediately springing up to his stomach, a trail of precum dripping down his navel.

You’d forgotten how gorgeous it was — the heady, pink tip shiny with arousal, veins running along the underside of the thick base prominent. It twitches in interest as Javier leans down to kiss you, prods against your slick inner thigh when his tongue presses into yours.

You hook your legs around his back, desperately attempting to pull him closer, attempting to drag him into your achingly empty cunt.

He grins against your lips, hand moving between your bodies to guide himself to your entrance.

“Impaciente,” he mumbles.

You whine, nails digging into his shoulders. “Please Javi, need it.”

“Yeah?” He pauses with his cockhead right at your seam. “How bad?”

“Fuck — so bad, need it so bad.” Your nails burrow deeper into flesh. He hisses.

“God damn, querida; that much, huh?”

“Yes, Javi,” you groan. “Please just-”

He bottoms out in one deep thrust, effectively knocking the air out of your lungs. You moan in unison, his head falling against your shoulder as he slowly begins to move.

Your cunt sucks him in greedily, clenching around him over and over again. It’s intoxicating, the feeling of his cock nudging your g-spot with every roll of his hips. You wonder how you went so long without this. Fear you won’t be able to again.

He pulls all the way out and snaps into you before setting a new, brutal pace, one that leaves you babbling underneath him.

The room grows palpably warmer, white heat licking at your neck, your chest, your back — where it sticks to leather. You find yourself lost in the way your bodies move together; a dance you’ve done so many times before; one you’d perfected all those months ago.

“Shit,” Javi slurs. “Take me so well, cariño. Like you’re — ahh — made for me.”

I am, you want to say.

“Fuck,” you moan instead, “so good, baby. Feels so fucking good.”

And it does. You’re going to snap soon, going to cum for a second time, soak his cock.

You tighten around him, a silent warning. He slips out and you whine at the loss. But then he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, spreading you wider for him and delving back in at a new angle that makes you scream.

You can feel it building now, like a snowball in your abdomen. You can’t fight it, can barely warn Javi, his name spilling brokenly from your throat as your orgasm crests.

He talks you through it with praises whispered in your ear. So beautiful, princesa — that’s it. So pretty when you fall apart on my cock. There you go; let it all out, baby.

Fucked-out and boneless, you beg for Javi to please cum inside.

He growls, low and primal, gripping tightly to the flesh of your waist as his thrusts begin to falter. “That what you want, querida? Want to — shit — want to go back to your boyfriend with me dripping out of you?”

“Yes,” you chant thoughtlessly, yes, yes, yes.

“Dirty. Fucking. Girl.” he grits, each word punctuated by a jerk of his hips.

He spills inside you with his teeth in the crook of your neck. There’s so much of it, filling your cunt, leaking out around his cock and onto leather. It sates you in a way you didn’t know possible, as if your womb needs to be claimed by him and only him. Nobody else will do.

You almost resent the feeling of your eyesight returning and your breaths steadying. You don’t want to come down — not if it means you need to go home.

But the sky outside is turning purple, bruising with the threat of a new day on the horizon, and you know your time together is nearly up.

“Javi,” you mutter, his chest still heaving against yours, cock softening inside you.

“Up.”

He shifts, pulls out in a devastating loss, and retreats to the opposite side of the couch.

You begin to knead the muscles in your aching calves, Javi fumbling with the pack of cigarettes on the side table next to him. He takes one out and lights it, the end glowing faintly.

“What do we do?” you ask. He rubs at the crease in his forehead, definitely set there by years of chasing after drug cartels. Maybe also by running away from meaningful conversation with you.

“You can’t go back to him,” he mumbles.

You scoff. “I can’t? I have to Javi, Nathan is my-“

“Don’t say his name,” he snaps, abruptly ashing his cigarette and turning to face you. He looks wrecked, his eyes wide and his lips downturned.

“What do you want from me, Javi?” you bite, pulling your panties back into place and reaching for your jeans where they lay on the floor. “You want me to be at your beck and call forever? Cheat on him until one of us dies?”

“I —“ Javi sighs. “No.”

“Then what?” You pull your pants on: one leg, then the other. Pull your shirt back down to cover your breasts.

“I — want you.”

You nearly choke on your own saliva.

“What?”

“All of you,” he clarifies. “When I saw you with him for the first time in that grocery store — my heart sank. I didn’t — didn't realize how serious my feelings were for you. Fuck, I shouldn’t have let you end things that day.”

He stands. Braces pleading hands on your shoulders.

“I know I’m an asshole,” he continues. “I thought I could never be someone’s partner. That I wouldn’t…wouldn’t be good. How could I be when I’ve done so much bad in my life?”

You sink into his touch. His words.

“Javi-“

“No, cariño — I need you to hear this. I want to be good for you, know I can be. I’ll do anything. I just — I can’t let you get away again.”

You feel as if you’ve just been struck by an arrow. Or, more accurately, a train. Your bones hurt and your insides twist.

You’re silent for a long moment, watching as his eyes desperately search yours. You know you need to say something eventually, put him out of his misery, but you’re too afraid to find out what happens next.

The undeniable fact that you want to be with him too is almost too much to bear. You’ll have to break it off with Nathan, split his heart in half. He doesn’t deserve it, you think, over and over.

But then, maybe you don’t deserve to remain unhappy. Unfulfilled.

Maybe you need to hurt him once in order to stop repeatedly hurting yourself.

“You’re good, Javier,” you say then. “You’re a good man. You deserve good.”

“Yeah?” his voice cracks. Tears prick in the corners of his eyes. He retracts them with a deep breath in.

You grab the sides of his face. “Yes. And I — I want you too.”

Javier kisses you, so deep you think your lips might bruise. There’s finality in it — you’re his and he’s yours — and no longer will you pretend that’s not the case.

He drives you back to your place, unwilling to let his girl get in another cab alone before daylight.

Laredo looks beautiful at dawn, all dozing buildings and empty roads. You pass by your workplace and groan at the realization that you’ll have to be back there in a few hours; you can’t call out again. A stack of unfiled reports will surely be waiting for you atop your desk.

That dread doesn’t last long, though, not when you look to the man in the driver’s seat, the one who makes your mouth water and your heart skip.

When he catches your gaze, corner of his mouth turning up at you mischievously, you know for certain that everything will work out just fine.

Javi turns onto your street slowly, moreso than he needs to, a possessive hand gripping your thigh.

“Will you let me know how it goes?” he asks when the car pulls up to the curb.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean, I think it’s safe to say it won’t go well, but-“

“I know. But if he gives you any more trouble than he needs to, you call me.”

Your eyes flit up to your bedroom window, blinds drawn up and curtains pulled aside. The room is still dark, Nathan no doubt still asleep.

You’ll go up in a second. After you kiss Javier one more time.

He seems taken aback when your lips catch his, maybe because it’s crazy to do this here, now. But you can’t help it. Can’t keep your hands — or your mouth — off of him now that you have him.

He relaxes into it after just a second, licking into your mouth to deepen the kiss, his hand moving from your thigh to the back of your head to hold you against him.

And then — he abruptly pulls away.

“Shit,” he curses, staring wide-eyed at the window.

You follow his eyeline, freezing when you see what he sees: Nathan, tall and shadowy, looking straight at you.

“Well,” Javi laughs nervously, “I think he knows.”

end notes: ty so much for reading! pls consider reblogging and/or leaving a comment if you enjoyed :)

tag list: @janaispunk @kajashe @amanitacowboy @planet-marz1 @littlegrungegirlaf @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @wethairjoel @catchallfangirl @pamasaur

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atomicami · 1 year ago

Text

surprise visit

contractor!abby anderson x joel’s daughter!reader

- summary: after your first encounter with abby, she’s all that’s on your mind. because of this, you decide to ditch work one day and go to her father’s contracting site to pay her a visit, only to find out that she feels the same way with you. (part 2 to quick fix)

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, contractor/engineer!abby, texas living, no sarah, joel and jerry are both alive, jerry is not a doctor, reader has a business degree, family & work drama, office sex, oral & fingering (both receiving) squirting, thoughts of strap usage, cockblocking, reader and abby almost getting caught again, pet names instead of y/n, abby begging if you squint, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything

- author’s note: no bc i was literally shocked over how quick fix blew up omg?? thank you guys so much! i had so many people request for a part 2 so here it is! i hope y’all enjoy it :)

To your luck, your dad didn’t suspect anything when he found out the TV got fixed.

You told him that you ended up calling the electrician instead. And while he did scold you on how the electricians here tend to overcharge their customers for their services, he eventually just let it slide.

Besides, it would have been better to tell him that rather than the truth. That the daughter of his work rival set foot in his house to fix the TV, only to soon put her hands on, or rather inside his precious daughter.

Movie night flew by slow for you that day, like painfully slow. Abby was all that ran through your mind that night. You pretty much spent that night sitting on the couch surrounded by your friends, in that same spot where Abby’s head was in between your legs just a few hours before. You’d keep turning your head back just to take a peek at her house across from you.

Eventually, you became so desperate for that night to be over that you decided to end things early and escorted your friends out of your house, only to soon get under your bedsheets to try to fix the ache that was forming in between your legs once again.

But you knew damn well that it could never compare to how Abby made you finish that day. She made you finish in a way that no one else could have.

Despite that, the two of you may have thought about the idea that this could have just been a one-time thing, but you were still tempted to see her. You didn’t want to go against your dad’s rules, again…but just like the last time, part of you was leaning towards doing so.

Besides, you got away with it the first time…who’s to say you might be able to do this for a second?

But you don’t see her right away. Despite how hard it may be for you, you make the effort to wait for the right time.

A week passes by since your first encounter with Abby, and that’s when you decide to go see her.

You’re on your shift at work, finishing up some customer calls before gathering your things to head out. Once you get to the door, you stop in your tracks for a brief moment. A variety of questions start to flood your mind:

Is it worth it to take the risk again? What could happen if you end up getting caught? Would Abby even want to see you again? Is she craving you the same way you’re craving her right now?

You quickly shook your thoughts out of your head and turned the doorknob, exiting the office trailer before closing the door behind you. However, you only make it down the first few steps before running into your father. He bumps into you while finishing a call, phone in one hand and some files in another.

Joel quickly hangs up the phone and peers his eyes down at the screen. “Hey kiddo, I was just lookin’ for ya so I could give you these—“ He cuts his sentence off once he looks up from his phone to see you standing in front of him, bag over your shoulder and car keys in your hand, ready to leave as if your shift was already over. He looks at you with a confused expression. “Where are ya headed? You’re not done for another few hours.”

You try your best to come up with an excuse on the spot. “Oh, I have to head out to run some errands…I uh, need to start buying ingredients for the bake sale next week.”

That was a full-on lie. You already bought everything the week before. And knowing Joel, he can typically sniff out a lie like a bloodhound. But you still hope that he’ll take the bait for it.

Your dad simply nods and puts his phone back into his pocket. “Alright sweetheart, well, whenever you can, I need ya to file these for me. No rush though.” He hands you the files before passing by you to head into the office. You let out a sigh of relief, only for that feeling to soon come to a halt when he calls out your name again.

You turn back around to face him. “Yeah?”

“Do you think you could make that—that custard cake— what’s it called again…You made it last Thanksgiving at Uncle Tommy’s, remember?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You mean my flan?”

“Yes!” Your dad exclaims. “Make as many of those as you can. Wanna be able to beat Anderson in the bake sale this time.”

You pursed your lips together and nodded. “Alright, I’ll be sure to make those then,” you reply.

Your dad gives you a thumbs up in response before pulling out his phone to take another call and stepping back into the mobile office.

Another sigh of relief escapes from you. If it weren’t for your dad being so occupied with his clients, you definitely would have been caught a lot sooner. As much as you love and care for your dad, his obsession with trying to one-up Jerry at his job seriously drives you crazy.

Crazy to the point where you decide to break his rules and get with Jerry’s daughter, perhaps?

Once you approach the parking lot, you step into your car and start it up before pulling out your phone. The first thing you end up doing before anything else is shutting off your location. Aside from Abby being off limits, your father was never really the strict type. The only reason behind having a location set up on your phone was so he’d make sure you were safe whenever you’d be working late at the company or when you were out with friends.

But that’s not the case today, since you’re simply just ‘running errands’, as you so graciously told him before leaving.

Your finger hovers over the screen before tapping on the navigation app. You then type in the directions for Anderson Contracting Company.

Those are three words you definitely didn’t expect to be putting into your GPS.

Once the route guidance was set up, you shift your car into drive before slowly pulling out of the parking lot and exiting your dad’s contracting site.

Excluding the possibility of traffic, it usually takes about 15 minutes to get to Jerry’s contracting site. That is…if you’re taking the fastest route. But due to the anxiety bubbling in your stomach, you decided to delay yourself as much as you could to get there. You avoid the highway if possible, purposefully miss every exit, and even let every single driver pass you while on the road. You’ve lost count of how often the GPS has rerouted since you were just going around in circles.

Eventually, you quit stalling and follow the correct route to Jerry’s contracting site. That feeling of deja vu instantly hits you once you see those two familiar pickup trucks in the parking lot upon arrival. It meant that there’d be another 50/50 chance of either running into Abby…or her father.

But it’s not too late though. You’re still in the car. You haven’t left yet. There’s still a chance to back out of this now and leave as if you never showed up in the first place.

But then again…you’re tempted to go in and search for her. You truly couldn’t resist being away from her for so long. A week may seem like nothing for most people, but to you, it felt like a fucking eternity. Do you really think that Abby might feel the same way?

Fuck it. You do it anyway.

Once you’ve stepped out of your car and locked it, you start making your way over to the contracting site. Your chances of backing out progressively become slimmer with every step you take.

Before you know it, you’re standing at the site, front and center. Jerry’s site looks quite similar to your dad’s—pretty spacious, filled with loads of inventory, it even had the same trailer-like mobile office that stood its ground next to the parking lot with its company logo in big, bold lettering.

But then again, all of that pretty much looked the same to you. The only task on your mind right now was to search for that man’s best employee: his daughter.

You squint your eyes to get a better look at the workers on site right now. They all looked the same to you due to the far distance—a bunch of little figures all spread out in its ample environment. However, you do see Jerry standing among those figures, to which you’re relieved. He had the same height and build as Joel, but with lighter physical features instead of your father’s dark ones. At least you knew where he was situated right now.

But Abby? She was nowhere to be seen.

It didn’t make sense to you at first. Her truck was in the parking lot, and given her prominent figure, she’d be easily identifiable out of all of the workers that were scattered around the site.

Regret starts to pass through your body right now. You felt like you’d wasted your time coming here.

That is…until you feel a strong, familiar hand grab your arm from behind.

You freeze in your tracks and slowly turn your head around. Your prayers have been answered once again.

Abby keeps her grip on your arm and turns you around, her body shielding yours so her father wouldn’t spot you from the distance. She then leans into your ear. “Stay in front of me and keep walking forward,” she says sternly.

You nod and continue to walk in her direction. The two of you approach straight to the mobile office, and you notice that the door is wide open. Looks like that solves the mystery as to why you couldn’t find her in the first place.

Abby guides you up the steps and brings you inside the trailer. She makes sure to check her surroundings before entering inside and closing the door behind her, locking it shut.

“Are you seriously out of your mind?” She asks, turning around to face you. “It’s one thing to come to my house, but to come to where I work? And with my dad here? What if he saw you?”

You shook your head at her and put your hands up to quiet her down. “I know, I know…This is literally the last place I’m supposed to be at right now, but I need to talk to you.”

She let out a sigh and shook her head as she walked over to her side of the trailer where her desk was. “About what?” She asks, turning back around again to face you.

“It’s about last week, um…” you trail off for a second, briefly averting your gaze from her and nervously rubbing the back of your neck. “When you came over to fix my outlet…”

Even though you weren’t looking at her, you could feel the smirk that was growing on her face. Abby leans back against the corner of her desk and crosses her arms. “Oh yeah? Which outlet are we talking about, exactly?”

Looking back at her now, you scoff at her and lightly shove her shoulder. “Come on, you know exactly what I mean…” You let out a sigh before continuing. “Look, I don’t know about you but…it’s been on my mind this past week. And I need you to do it again. Please.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at your statement. “Make you do what now?”

Jesus. She’s really trying to get the words out of your mouth, isn’t she?

Another sigh leaves from your lips. Your eyes divert back to the ground again. “I…I need you to make me finish like that again.” You mutter out to her. “No one has ever been able to make me feel that good…besides you.”

As hard as you were trying right now, the desperation in your voice was still so obvious to hear. You didn’t want to be desperate about it, but you couldn’t help it.

However, Abby was quite flattered to hear that, and even a little relieved. Despite her previous experiences with women, she wanted to be able to please you the most. It was just hard for her to ever do so due to both of your dads’ rules.

She looks out the window for a moment. Her dad appeared to be miles away from the two of you, still barking orders at his employees over inventory. She then walks over to the back of her desk and moves some things around to make some space before motioning you to come over. “Come here. Sit on my desk.”

You oblige, walking over to the back of her desk. You give yourself a boost and sit on top of it. Looking down, you see her hands placed down on the desk, one on each of your sides. It’s almost as if she’s slowly entrapping you with her large frame.

You look back up at her to see her looking down at your lap, watching how your thighs are pressed together right now. “I don’t regret it, you know…” she starts, looking up at you. “Coming over. I don’t regret it at all. If anything, you’ve been on my mind just as much since then.” She then leans into the left side of your face and whispers this memorable statement in your ear:

“Even my tongue still remembers the way you taste.”

“Fuck..” You mutter under your breath, averting your gaze back down. Her words alone were already turning you on and making your arousal rush quickly to your core.

Her eyes were now meeting with yours when you looked back up at her. “Would you want to do it again?” You asked her. That same smirk shows back on her face as Abby shakes her head. She thought your question was ridiculous, even after hearing what she had just said to you. But on the contrary to last week, you were now the one seeking reassurance from her.

Without taking her eyes off of yours, she slightly parts your legs open with her knee and slides a hand underneath the knee-length pencil skirt you were wearing. Your breath hitched once you felt her touch, followed by your thighs tensing up a little. “Is this answering your question right now?” she asks, not stopping her movements.

You try to catch your breath as she holds eye contact with you, nodding slowly as her hand inches closer to your heat. Her actions come to a halt once her hand reaches your clothed cunt. It wasn’t until her fingertips brushed against the soft fabric that you broke eye contact with her to look down at your lap, even though her hand was hidden under your skirt.

Abby did the same, gently pressing her thumb down against the now damp piece of fabric that was separating her hand and your pussy. Her action causes you to jerk back a little. The ache in between your legs was making you sensitive. “You’re so wet for me already, fuck…” she mutters out, hooking her finger underneath your underwear and moving it to the side. You spread your legs out farther for her for better access, trying to hold back your whimpers when the cool air of the office’s AC tunnels under your skirt and hits your wet pussy.

This gives Abby the chance to start inserting one of her fingers inside you. The second her fingertips start passing through your tight entrance, you instantly feel alleviated. Despite the slightly uncomfortable feeling it can give you at first, there was something about Abby’s fingers that was just so…addicting. It’s almost as if you needed to have her touch inside of you all the time.

You can’t help but let out a whimper once you feel a second finger enter inside you not even a minute later. Abby leans in to kiss you, desperate to swallow the pretty sounds you’re making while her fingers were nestling in your pussy.

“God…” she begins to mutter in between kisses. “It’s only been a week…and you feel even tighter than when I first went down on you…” She briefly pulls away from your lips to kiss your neck.

Abby silently cursed at herself for not having her strap in her possession. If only she had known beforehand that you were going to sneak your way out of work to come see her, she would’ve brought it with her. As much as she loved having you come undone onto her fingers, there was truly nothing more she wanted to do right now than to fuck you senselessly on top of her desk.

Your hands grip the edge of her desk when she begins to slowly pump her fingers in and out of your pussy. More sounds continue to leave your lips, and you begin to involuntarily grind your hips against her hand as a desperate call for her to go faster, which she soon ends up doing.

“Fuck, Abby…” you whimper out to her. “Your fingers…feel so good…” You bring your gaze back down to your lap, watching the hidden movements of her hand under your skirt.

Secretly, it was kind of pissing both of you off that you still had that fucking skirt on. You’ve been trying to hold back the urge to strip yourself down. The pleasure that Abby’s giving you right now with just her two fingers was so good that having your skirt and underwear still on you was bothering you so much. At that moment you didn’t want anything touching you from the waist down.

Anything except for Abby’s fingers.

And it was even more frustrating on Abby’s part because although she could feel and even hear your needy pussy underneath your skirt right now, she couldn’t see what she was doing. She wanted to see her actions right now. She wanted to watch your pussy visibly contract against her thick fingers before coming undone on them.

That stupid skirt was by far the worst obstacle for the two of you right now. But regardless, it wasn’t going to stop Abby from trying to make you finish. You told her that you needed her to make you cum just like how she did when she first came over, and that’s exactly what she was going to do.

Your grip on her desk tightened when her fingers were now going at an uncontrollably fast pace. Your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your mouth slightly parted. A moan would escape from your mouth with every brush of her fingertips on your g spot. That familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach forms as your cunt begins to pulse around her fingers, indicating that you were getting close.

Just like last time, your head starts to feel heavy once again. You try to tilt back down to meet with Abby’s gaze so you can let her know. “A-Abby…” you call out to her. “I—fuck—I’m getting close…”

She simply nods, not quitting her pace with her fingers. “I know you are, that needy cunt of yours won’t stop squeezing my fingers.” She looks back up at you. “Just ride it out for me like last time, make yourself cum on my—“

Then suddenly she cuts her words off. Her gaze starts to avert away from yours, and her fingers start to slow down.

She turns her head around to look out the window, leading you to do the same. The pleasure in your body soon starts to replace itself with panic when you see who’s approaching closer to the office.

Abby’s father.

She turns her head to face you and she can practically see the pleading in your eyes. You were already so close to the finish line. So close to finishing on her fingers and getting to that blissful feeling that you’ve been craving from her touch for the past week.

“Abby…” you whisper out to her. “Please…just let me finish…”

Although she felt like she could do it, and make a new record out of it, she just couldn’t take the risk.

Abby could feel her heartbeat racing as she heard her father’s footsteps get closer to the door. She looks over at you, her gaze flickering between your face and your lap, where her fingers remain inside of you.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered back and pulled her fingers out of you, causing you to whimper at the loss.

The rattling of the doorknob startles the two of you, followed by the sound of keys jingling. Abby instinctively grabs your hips, getting you off of her desk. “Get under my desk,” she commands, leading you to quickly crouch down onto the ground and tuck yourself into the leg area of her desk.

Abby sits back down in her chair and scooches in, scattering all of her blueprints, sketches, and files back on the center of her desk to make herself look busy.

Then the door clicks, right on time.

She looks over to her left and watches her father enter inside. Jerry’s eyes were fixed on his phone screen for a moment before looking up to see her. “Hey kid, I didn’t know you’d still be in here,” he says, walking over to her desk. “Why’d you lock the door?”

Abby immediately starts stammering on the spot, trying her best to figure out an excuse. “Oh, um…I think the self-lock was still on..”

He nods in response, looking at the door and back at her. “I see…Well, I have to head into town in a bit to check out a client’s property. They’re in need of their kitchen being remodeled and I’d like to get to them before Miller does. Do you think you can go outside and finish up with inventory while I’m out?”

Abby nods slowly in response. “Yeah dad, of course, I can do that for you.”

The two of you figured that Jerry would leave after that…But he doesn’t. He continues to discuss work with her while you remain hidden under her desk.

About three minutes have gone by, but to you, it feels more like three hours. Despite the amount of legroom that Abby’s desk had, you still felt so cramped up. All that was there to see right now were three dark walls and the sight of Abby from the waist down. Wait a minute…

That’s when an idea popped into your head. The way Abby was sitting, manspread in her chair, her cargo pants tightly hugging her thighs even though they’re meant to be loose, and that tool belt of hers…it sure seemed to provide some coverage down there, right?

You want to talk yourself out of it, you really do. This wasn’t the time or the place to be doing this right now. But five minutes have passed now and you truly have no idea when the hell Jerry is going to get out of there so the two of you could be alone. Might as well keep yourself occupied for the time being, right?

Without trying to make any noise underneath, you shift your position on the ground until you’re kneeling. While Abby now remains distracted by talking to her father, you slip your hands in under the large pouches that were attached to her tool belt. Once your hands find the button and zipper of her cargo pants, you attempt to undo them and get them off of her.

Abby’s eyes quickly flicker to her lap before looking back at her dad, who was now talking to her about another client that Joel took from him. She notices what you’re trying to do, she can see it without even having to take her tool belt off. She truly wishes more than anything right now that she could at least help you take her pants off for her.

“…so I'm going to see if I can be able to meet with them next week and see if I can convince them to do business with us instead of Joel. I was thinking that—” Jerry’s words soon get cut off by the sound of his phone ringing, leading him to pull it out of his pocket and answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is him…”

While Abby’s father speaks through the phone, he briefly looks away from her. This gave the perfect moment for her to discreetly lift her hips so you could get her cargo pants and boxers down. You open her legs, eyeing her pussy that was hidden underneath her tool belt. Without even thinking twice, you dive in between her legs, quickly latching your mouth onto her clit.

Oh God, now Abby really needed her dad to leave right now.

The chair starts to shake a little beneath you as Abby’s hands grip each side of the armrest, trying to hold back any sounds as you sucked on her clit. Now it was up to Abby to try and compose herself in front of her father because the second he’ll notice something unusual, both of you would be screwed.

Abby glances over to see her dad turned around, still complaining through the phone. Her breath continues to hitch while you keep sucking and licking at her clit. “God, your mouth feels so good…” she mutters out quietly to you, praying that her dad didn’t hear her. She soon hears her dad finishing up his phone call and sits back up before scooching forward, trying to hide as much of herself below the waist down as possible.

“Look, just give me ten minutes and I'll be there. I’ll show you the plans I have for your kitchen, and I can assure you it’ll be better than what Miller would have in mind.” Jerry soon says his goodbyes before hanging up the phone and turning back around to face his daughter.

“That was the client I was just about to go see today. They’re already considering doing business with Joel instead.” he crosses his arms and shakes his head in disbelief. “The nerve of this ignorant man…He’s seriously trying to do anything just to get more clients than me…” he lets out another sigh before continuing. “I'm gonna head out now to meet with them. Please make sure to finish up on inventory before you leave alright?”

Although it wasn’t like you had a choice at that moment, you couldn’t help but eavesdrop on what Jerry was saying. You were definitely into Abby, but you couldn’t stand how Jerry talked about your father. As a result, you decided to do something just a little bold. While your mouth was fixated on playing with Abby’s clit, you insert two of your fingers into her pussy with no warning, causing her to jerk back at the sudden movement.

“Y-Yeah!” she exclaims before quickly closing her mouth shut, as well as her thighs. “Yeah, um…I-I’ll be sure to do that…” she says, her voice back at her normal volume.

Her father raised an eyebrow in suspicion but didn’t think anything of it. The only thing on his mind right now was getting to that client’s place before Joel does. “Alright then…I'll see you at home.”

Abby watches as her dad leaves the office and closes the door behind him. She turned her head around to the window to make sure he was officially out of view before letting out a sigh of relief. “Fuck…” she breathes out. She then pushes her chair back and quickly unbuckles her tool belt before tossing it to the ground, looking down to see the sight of you with your mouth and fingers both still attached to her cunt.

“You really are a fucking tease, aren't you?” she asks you. “Going down on me like that while my dad’s in the office because you can’t keep it in your pants…I didn’t take it that you’d be such a slut for me like that…”

With your fingers still inside of her, you briefly removed your mouth from her pussy to respond to her. “I seriously couldn't keep waiting any longer, Abby…” you plead out to her.

Abby slightly tilts her head to the side, raising an eyebrow in mock confusion. “Did I tell you to stop doing that, though?” she asks.

You shake your head in response. “No, I—”

“Exactly. So get back to it, princess.”

You then feel her hand on the back of your head, bringing it back down into her pussy. Without taking your eyes off of hers, you seal your mouth back onto her clit while pumping your two fingers in and out of her cunt, watching her every move to the pleasure that you were giving her.

“Fuck, oh God…” she moans out, pushing your head farther in. “Fuck, just like that…p-put that mouth of yours to good use…”

You moan into her pussy as a response, causing her body to slightly shiver. Your fingers speed up their pace inside her, desperately trying to get her to break apart. A string of breathy moans continues to escape from Abby’s mouth while your head stays nudged in between her legs.

You can’t help but hear those sounds that Abby was making as your tongue kept lapping up her juices. It was making you even wetter than before. You wanted to reach down and touch yourself so fucking bad, but you couldn’t. Not only was it because Abby would immediately suspect that you were doing that to yourself, but you were getting so fucking drunk from her pussy that you couldn’t even move any other part of your body except for the parts that were moving inside her right now.

“Oh fuck, I think I’m getting close…” she moans out to you, tightening the grip on her armrest. “Please…please don’t stop…”

The way Abby had begged you to keep going was driving you insane. Now you were more motivated than ever to make her finish. Your fingers were cramping, your jaw was getting sore, and your face was so buried in her pussy that you felt like you couldn’t breathe.

But you still refused to quit.

You keep driving her up to her climax until she finally comes undone with a broken moan, finishing all over your mouth and fingers. Once she’s finished on you, you lick and suck her release until she’s completely clean before taking your mouth and fingers out of her.

Abby looks back down and is amazed at the sight of you right now. Your pupils were completely blown out due to how drunk you’d gotten from her pussy, and her release was smeared all over your face. “Well, it looks like I’m not the only one who likes to get all pussydrunk…” she tells you, smirking once again.

You meet your gaze with hers and smirk back at her. “I had to return the favor for you somehow…” you reply, wiping her release off of your chin with the back of your hand. “Consider it a thank you for fixing my outlet last week.”

Abby returns your response with a smile. However, her eyes soon flicker over to your lap, where you were clenching your thighs together on the ground. Now she remembered that she needed to finish what she started.

She leans over to put her boxers and cargo pants back on before standing up completely. “Come on, get back up on my desk.”

With your legs still together, you slowly get up from the ground and stand up next to her. After almost getting caught by Abby’s dad and being under her desk for what felt like fucking forever, chances are that the heat pooling between your legs right now is going to be a lot more for Abby to work with this time.

You watched as she made space on her desk for you again by pushing her things around. Some of her blueprints and sketches fell to the ground as a result, but she could honestly care less about that. Her hands then move to your waist, picking you up in an effortless manner and placing you back onto her desk before leaning in and locking her lips with yours, tasting a bit of herself in the process.

Your hands grab at her shirt and pull her closer to you, while Abby’s hands grab the hem of your skirt and pulls it down your legs, followed by your underwear right after. Her lips then pull themselves away from yours so she can look down at your pussy. “Oh my God….” she breathes out to you, her face inches from yours. The arousal in between your legs had spread so much that even your inner thighs were shining with your slick.

“You’ve been trying to hide this mess while you were under my desk, weren’t you?” she asks, to which you nod in response.

The sight of your wet pussy was so fucking much for Abby right now that she needed to step back and sit back down. You watched as she sat back in her chair and pulled onto the side lever, letting it sink down so her face was parallel to your pussy.

Without even thinking twice, she dives her head in between your legs. As much as Abby had wanted to challenge herself and use her fingers like last time, she still had that desire to taste you, because she truly is one for craving the way your arousal would linger on her tongue.

“Fuck, Abby…f-feels so good…” you whimper out to her, grabbing her braid and pushing her head further into your pussy. With half-lidded eyes, you make the effort to keep your gaze at the window to be on the lookout. You seriously did not want to have to deal with the possibility of getting walked in on…again.

The amount of moans and whimpers that leave your mouth only drives Abby to speed up her pace. She ends up pulling your hips closer towards her as she continues to eat you out like a woman starved before inserting two fingers inside and quickly pumping them in and out of you.

Your hands have flown back to gripping the edge of her desk once again and your elbows are now propped at the center of it to support yourself. You can’t even focus on looking out the window anymore with all of the overstimulation that she was giving you right now. At this point, both of you could care less about someone knocking again.

It didn’t take long for that familiar feeling to build up in the pit of your stomach again. That same feeling that you had gotten when she came over last week, that same feeling that you had reached around 15 minutes ago before Abby’s father decided to interfere at the wrong time.

You try your best to even form a sentence right now to let her know that you were getting close. “A-Abby…I-fuck…I’m getting close again…”

She simply looks up at you without stopping her movements. Her bright blue eyes were darker than before, and her pupils were blown out just like yours not too long ago. She was getting drunk off of your arousal once again.

With her free hand, she manages to do that same movement with you again, where she brings it over to your stomach and presses her palm down, all while maintaining her mouth on your clit and her fingers pumping and curling themselves deep into your cunt.

From there, it didn’t take long for you to reach your peak.

“A-Abby…I’m gonna—Fuck!”

And that’s when it hits you. Before you could even warn her again your cunt pulses hard once last time before cumming all over her mouth and fingers, leading her to greedily drink you clean. Your head is thrown back in pleasure, your stomach is all tense from the pressure of Abby’s hand, and your inner thighs are trembling and dripping.

Once you’re able to catch your breath, you look down and watch Abby pull her mouth and fingers out of you. That same deja vu feeling hits you again when you see the condition she was in. She was just as out of breath as you were, and her fingers, face, and lap were now covered in your release.

Abby leans in and strokes your trembling thighs to calm them down followed by planting kisses throughout the tender parts of your skin. “You alright there?” she asks with a smirk, wiping her chin with the back of her hand.

You nod slowly at her and give her a smile, still slightly drunk off of your orgasm. “Yeah, fuck…” you breathe out. “You’re so good at this, you know..”

The blonde simply shrugs in response. “Anything to get that taste from you, princess.” she replied with a chuckle, kissing your inner thigh one last time before setting it down.

You watch as she picks up your underwear and skirt off the ground and helps you get them back on before getting off of her desk. You hear her chuckle again when she sees you try to stand with your legs still limp. “Think you can walk?” she asks, that same smirk showing up on her face again.

You roll your eyes at her and playfully slap her shoulder. “Oh, I’ll be fine…” you tell her in reassurance.

Abby shakes her head in response, placing one hand on your waist before holding one of yours with her. “Let me walk you to your car. I’ll take you out the back so no one sees us.”

Once you safely get to your car, you unlock it and slip yourself into the driver's seat before closing the door and starting it. You then roll down the window to see her hovered over you, her arms resting on the roof of your car.

You feel yourself blush a little when you see how damp her clothes now were because of you. “Um, what do you plan to do with that?” you ask her curiously, pointing at her clothes.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ve got my gym clothes in my truck, I’ll be fine.” she reassures you.

You nod in response. “Okay, well…thanks again for, um…”

“Fixing your outlet again?” she asks, raising her eyebrow.

You let out a laugh at her response. “Yeah,” you confirm with a nod, “For fixing my outlet, again.”

Abby chuckles and shakes her head, briefly looking down at the ground before back up at you. “So I’ll see you at the bake sale next week?”

You bite your lip, trying to hold back your smile before nodding again. “I’ll be there.”

Abby leans in to kiss you goodbye before tapping on the roof of your car, indicating that you were good to leave. You wave at her as you pull your car out of the parking lot and exit the site.

Well, it’s safe to say that you most definitely will be attending that bake sale next week.

- a/n: did not expect this one to get long…part 3 anyone?

part 3 here

requested tags 🏷️: @ourautumn86 @winfleurs @aouiaa @zombholic @abbysfavewh0rx @lia-winther @grooviestcowboy @pretty-prrincess-13 @iwillkilyou @erinsdeluluworld @elliens4 @totallyghostdgirl @sirenbxby @bellaramslover @echostinn @uraesthete @cherrycolouredflunk @whorn3y @thatonementallyillsimp @elliewilliamsmunch

(striked text means i couldn’t tag sorry!!)

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bamsywrites · 3 months ago

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And Comes Dawn pt ii

pairing: halbrand/sauron x reader; there will be two love triangles in the future

Word Count: 2.3k

Summary: In all beings, there exists darkness. when the deciver finds one who seems to defy this, he becomes obsessed with finding it within her. and if he can't find it, he will ruin her himself.

Tag: dark romance, slow burn, sauron is Stressed™️ , sauron is so horny he contemplates murder, minor sex mention, idk what else to tag or warn

Notes: 24 hours later I already have part 2 done. I was going to have up until galadriel joins the raft for part 2 but I have a lot of ideas so I'm splitting them up. I am also stretching the time during season 1, like instead of being a couple months it's gonna be about a year because it's my fic and I can do that. Saurons pov is all over the place bc he is all over the place and yeah. Feed back always welcome and lemme know if you wanna be tagged. Oh and everything was still done on my phone so sorry if it's weird.

Series Masterlist

It was all a blur for you. You were woken from sleep by the creature attacking the ship and in the flurry of rushing water, screams, and the sound of breaking wood. You had found a pair of arms around your waist. You held your breath and clamped your eyes shut, if you were to die you didn't want your last memory on this Earth to be of the ship's wreckage and the corpses of your traveling companions floating under the water. These fears disappeared as you broke to the surface of the sea with the arms around your waist still holding you securely. You gasped and filled your lungs with air, wet hair obstructing your view, but you could see the familiar face of your savior.

“Halbrand?” You coughed.

He hummed a response, and you could feel the sound reverberate in his chest. It was comforting, the feeling of his strong arms and solid chest. Despite the cold of the waters, his body was abnormally warm, and you found yourself pressing into him for more of that heat.

“There's a raft not far. I think there's another survivor or two aboard it.” He spoke, securing one arm tightly around your body as he used his other to move through the water.

You squinted and could see what you suspected to be the raft he spoke of, but it was rather far for him to swim carrying you “I can swim. I do not wish you to have to carry me all that way through the water.”

“No,” he responded firmly. “There is some terrible beast who just destroyed our ship. I will not allow you to go out on your own in the water.”

“But then we could both die if it finds us.”

Halbrand looked down at you, looking into your eyes as he spoke. “In that case, my conscience will be clear because I will be dead. I can already see the arguments forming on your tongue, and the answer is still no.”

He gave you a pointed look at which you nodded, “Thank you. Now hold on, sweet one.”

You wrapped your arms around his waist, closing your eyes. This has been quite the journey for you. You missed home, but you longed for a new start, a new place where your family's reputation didn't loom over you, and you weren't regarded with suspicion at every turn. You couldn't allow yourself to think this was it, that you'd die like this at the sea. You'd been through too much.

You didn't know if it had been 15 minutes or 3 hours when you heard a voice call out your name from the raft, the woman who'd slept across from you. You had only introduced yourselves and not talked much at all, but it was still a familiar voice.

“Here, help her up,” Halbrand called to one of the men as he hoisted you as best he could on to the raft. “There you go, sweet one.”

You pulled yourself up on the raft, and almost instantly, you found yourself falling asleep on the wood. Exhaustion took you after the adrenaline drop of finally being out of the water. You were swept into sleeps embrace as the sun began to peak over the horizon.

You awoke, rubbing the sleep out from your eyes and looking around you. The horrors of that night replayed in your mind, but then you remembered Halbrand. You sat up and noticed that the raft was considerably larger, different pieces of driftwood tied together, and makeshift sails set up. There were also more survivors than last night, but it was a considerably small amount. Your eyes roamed the passengers, but you couldn't find the one you sought.

“Your awareness of your surroundings is incredibly lacking.”

You startled at the sound of his deep voice, causing him to chuckle. He had been lying down and sat up as you turned to look at him. “Glad you woke, sweet one. If you'd slept much longer, I'm sure they'd try to add you to our rations.”

“There's rations?” You asked eagerly, unable to ignore the emptiness in your belly.

Halbrand nodded, “There is. He”- he motioned to an older man on the other side of the raft - “didn't want to give you any because you were sleeping, but I was able to do some convincing.” He handed you a chunk of bread and a small portion of dried meat.

You gave him your thanks, and as you grabbed it, you noticed his knuckles were bloodied. A quick glance at the old man, who you now noticed was sporting a bruise and a few cuts under his eye, gave you the answers you needed.

“Tell me you didn't strike an old man for this?”

He sighed, rolling his eyes and pushing the bread and meat further into your chest. “If I tell you he fell upon my fist, will you eat it? How I came about this matters not. What matters is you will not last if you do not eat.”

You sighed, feeling guilty but taking a bit nonetheless. The feeling of the bread and dried meat hitting your barren stomach was enough to make you moan softly. Halbrand chuckled, watching you and leaning against one of the makeshift masts.

“Thank you. For the food and for saving me. I don't know how to express my gratitude for all you've done for me,” you swallowed and wet your lips. “Though I must admit I'm greatly confused as to why.”

You looked over at him, brow furrowed as you awaited an answer.

“Because you are fair of face. I can not imagine the despair I'd fall into if I was stuck on a raft with nothing but them to look at,” he motioned to other inhabitants, “it would be quite bleak indeed.”

You couldn't help the blush that formed on the bridge of your nose and traveled across your cheeks. Despite this, you still shook your head. “There is no need to be rude or dishonest. I simply ask for the truth.”

“I admit that was rude, but it was anything but dishonest. You are beautiful, and I quite like looking at you,” his eyes noticed your blush, and it caused him to smirk - if only he knew of the butterflies forming in your stomach at his affirmation.

“Though,” he continued, “you are right. That is not the reason I saved you. It's only an added benefit. When I met you on the ship, there had been many that had complained that there was not enough notice. That I would deplete the rations and that they would have to recalculate everything. But you brought me extra soup, and it wasn't a small portion either. You brought it because you knew I had been on my own and assumed I'd been without food. You had no selfish intention. You were simply kind to a stranger because you felt it was the right thing to do. There is not enough of that in the world, and humanity can not bear to lose someone like you who is kind and good for no other purpose than that it is right.”

“Oh,” your voice was small, and your entire face burned bright red at his compliments.

“I would tell you more, but I'm afraid if I do, you may burst into flames.”

The waves rocked the raft gently, the previous night it had lulled you into a nice, deep sleep but there's only so much to do on a raft in the middle of nowhere and you had spent the majority of that time asleep. Your eyes watched the stars, feeling lucky that the sky was full of them and that the moon shone bright. The thought of endless darkness, especially knowing what was out there hunting in the ocean depths, was a terrifying thought. The sound of the others snores mixed with the sounds of the waves.

There was only one other who was still awake. Halbrand was busy tightening the ropes to secure the pieces of the raft together. You had noticed he did not sleep much. You had been on the raft for 3 nights and two days, and most of that time was spent with him. Though there wasn't much conversation, you seemed to be the only one on the raft he wasn't annoyed with. You caught him looking at you at times, which made you think he really did mean what he said on that first day.

“Still looking for hope in the stars, sweet one?” Halbrand teased with a smirk as he walked to where she sat and sat down next to her so close that their legs touched.

“Have you forgotten my name? You seem to only refer to me as ‘sweet one’.” You asked, tearing your eyes from the stars to look at him.

He rolled his eyes, your name rolling from his tongue. “Do you not like my nickname?”

“It is fine. I was just curious, and I wasn't quite sure why.” You looked up at him as you awaited his answer.

“Because you're sweet. Hence, sweet one.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You're quite the flirt, Halbrand.”

“Only with you, sweet one.” He playfully pushed his shoulder into yours, and he sat there with you, looking up at the stars.

You enjoyed the moment. The heat from his body and the solid feeling of him next to you brought contentment. You wondered if it was meaningless flirtations or if he could mean all of it. You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind. You were stranded on a raft in the middle of the ocean. Any romantic feelings you may be growing for him were unimportant in the face of that fact.

You looked over at him, and your eyes trailed down to the relic that hung from his neck. You'd noticed it before but had never thought to ask about it. Your fingers gently reached for it so you could get a better look.

“What is this?” You tilted your head, holding it in your palm.

“Have you seen it before?” His voice was soft, but his brown eyes watched your face intently.

You shook your head in answer.

“It's the heraldry of my family. I only asked if you'd seen it because it has been almost an age since we used it. I can't imagine any family in the Southlands has used heraldry in some time.”

You turned it over in your palm, examining it further. “Why do you carry it?”

He wet his lips, gently taking it from your fingers and looking at it himself. “It's a reminder, a grim one, that our fates are never certain and that fortune can change for anyone. We've seen that here,” he motioned around them.

“Is it a grim reminder? I find it quite hopeful. No matter what, nothing is certain, and nothing lasts forever. There may be evil, and there may be terribly dark times, but those times do not last forever. There is also good. Also times of wonder and prosperity.”

He laughed, smiling as he looked at you. “Of course, that is what you would say. Ever the light and so full of hope.”

It was not long after this that you had fallen asleep. He still sat next to you awake as ever. His mind reeling and racing with millions of thoughts, the conflict within him felt as though it would rip right through him. He wanted control and order. It was the only way in which this world could know peace. He also wanted revenge on Adar, on the orcs who attempted to kill him.

But he remembered Morgoth. He remembered his former master and the chase for power that ended in his utter destruction. Even before then, Morgoth had become enslaved to the power he held and the power he craved. That was a fate that Sauron did not wish to share. He did not want to lose control for the sake of power, but he would never be quenched without having power. He could not have both.

Then there was you. He had not expected you, and he was finding himself enthralled with you. He could not understand you or the effect you had on him. A human, of all creatures, making him question all he knew to be true. He had not lusted for the pleasures of the flesh in thousands upon thousands of years and it was never for a human but when your eyes gazed up at him through your lashes or when he saw the smile stretch across your lips and the dimples that followed, it made it impossible not to imagine how those same eyes would look gazing up at him as you kneel at his feet or how those lips would look parted in ecstasy. His thoughts were plagued with the idea of taking you, tasting you, and utterly corrupting you.

It was all incredibly inconvenient.

This wasn't part of the plan and if it was just lust that plagued him, perhaps he could drown you and be done with it but the infatuation with understanding you and your motives and how you became this way stopped his hand. And the damn warmth that radiated from you that reminded him of the home he could never return to. With you curled into his side, he could close his eyes and imagine a time before he was corrupted. It made him wonder if he truly was past all redemption.

When those thoughts dared make themselves known, he'd imagine you looking up at him with tears streaming down your cheeks and his cock shoved down your throat.

His eyes drifted toward the water. It wouldn't be hard. He's so much stronger than you. He could handle any resistance as he pushed you under the waves, and then his mind would be free of those thoughts. But then he looked at you, and a million unanswered questions filled his mind. He knew if he killed you, they would remain unanswered and would plague him forever.

He cursed under his breath and watched as you slept. The choir of a million thoughts did not stop, and he briefly wondered if you would be his undoing.

previous next

#halbrand x reader #halbrand x oc #sauron x oc #sauron x reader #the rings of power fanfiction #the rings of power x reader #trop x reader #trop fanfiction #× reader #///mine

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bridgetotheskyyy · 3 months ago

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Kisuke; Praise kink

a/n: the title for this was 'sweet things' btw! 18+ only. Praise kink, fingering, kisuke is weird and perhaps stalking reader lol. wc 2.5k bc i love my man

Kinktober Masterlist.

Your fingers worried the loose cardboard of the supply box in your grip. The lovely Tessai took one box after the other into the shops, Ururu and Ginta played and chased each other in his minute absences.

Mr. Urahara was nowhere to be found.

And it was a good thing, too; you didn’t think you could resist him.

Ever since you had started supplying his store with goods, he had taken every opportunity to lavish you with flattery, concealing his smiling face with the fan you wished you possessed to conceal your sheepishness in these moments:

“What a pretty woman you are!”

“Ginta, the lovely supply woman is here!”

“Of course, I can’t imagine anything being sweeter than your lips ~”

Damn your love language. Damn it.

But Mr. Urahara was never rude or vulgar, yet Tessai would often come around and chastise him for bothering you regardless.

But it didn’t matter; you ate it up. You weren’t a fool; now and then you caught glimpses of the gorgeous dark-skinned visitor coming and going out of Urahara’s shop. You were certainly not the prettiest woman he’d ever seen, and you both knew it.

“I don’t often hear those types of things,” You admitted softly to him one day, cheeks warm.

“Oho no.” He had held you under his loving appraisal. “I don’t believe that.”

“Well, believe it,” You said, laughing nervously. “I usually get yelled at for delivering the wrong thing. The address is always right,” you shrugged, “and I don’t pack the boxes, so …”

“Oh, if only you’d deliver the wrong package to me,” Mr. Urahara said, leaning toward you. “It would mean I’d get to see you twice a week.”

Oh, god, help.

You anticipated each and every delivery to his shop. You yearned for the praise.

Until last Tuesday.

You had taken a chance to move one of the biggest boxes taped up to the tenth. I can move this myself, c’mon, don’t be a deadweight. And Mr. Tessai was always so kind, couldn’t you help him out just once?

You moved not one, but two, the last one prompting a drawn-out groan from you as you leaned over to drop it on the ground with care.

You stretched your back out, heard a crack or two. You sensed Mr. Urahara’s presence, heard those sandals. Clop. Clop. Clop. But for once you were too preoccupied with not being a nuisance to mind his proximity to you.

“That’s a good girl,” came his voice, husked and breathy at your neck. “Such a strong, pretty girl you are, moving boxes for me ―”

You did the worst thing you could possibly do in that moment ― you moaned.

“Hm?” You heard from behind.

You squeaked and startled away.

“M ― M ― Mr. Urahara!” You stammered.

“I’m sorry,” he said, a sweet lilt to his voice always. “Did I scare you?”

“No ― I just, erm, aha, I’m going to be late for my next delivery!” You scurried back to your truck. “Bye!”

You didn’t miss the muted, searching look Mr. Urahara had given you as your engine reared to life and you drove off, thanking the gods you had closed your trunk before driving over the speed limit.

But despite your fears, Mr. Urahara didn’t show himself, and you were safe to hop in your truck and drive off.

It was only when night struck ― you got a phone call.

You stared at the random number. Normally, you wouldn’t answer calls from strangers, but you took a gamble.

Click.

“Hello?”

“Hello, (Y/n).”

You gawked, your phone nearly slipping from your hand. You knew that voice.

“Mr. Urahara?” You stammered. “I ― What ― How did you get my number?”

A silky laugh on the other line. “I’ve been watching you for quite some time, my lovely (Y/n).”

Whoa. Unease settled over you. Were you being stalked?

Another laugh, louder this time, more human. “Just kidding! Your number is on the side of your truck, remember?”

You blinked. Oh. Oh, yeah.

“Anyway, I called because I was worried I might have scared you off the other day” ― ruffling on the other side of the line ― “Are you all right?”

“Oh.” You sighed. You laughed at yourself. You let your mind get away from you. “No, it’s fine ― I’m fine. Really. I was just … having a bit of a rough day, is all.”

“Ahh, I see,” Mr. Urahara said. “Well, Miss (Y/n), I don’t pretend to know what’s best for you, but perhaps a day off is in order?”

You snorted. “A day off? What’s that?”

The two of you shared a laugh. Your shoulders relaxed. You sunk into your pillows and listened to the tapering sounds of his chuckles. He was easy, light, and it felt good to simply chat with the man after all the stress he had inadvertently caused you.

“I know, times are hard, aren’t they?” Mr. Urahara said. “You’ve been so good to my shop. If you’d let me, I would love for you to come over ― no business involved ― and allow me to treat you.”

You giggled. “That’s very kind, Mr. Urahara ―”

“Kisuke, please.”

“Kisuke,” You corrected. “But, I’m afraid I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

But he was such a sweet man, and you had a weakness for that.

“I don’t know how you would treat me, exactly.”

“Hmm, well, I don’t know,” Kisuke said. “Perhaps ― and this is just off the top of my head! ― I could treat you to a … massage?”

You froze. If this were a tv show, you were sure the record scratch would be playing right about now.

Impossible. No way you heard him right.

You were quieter for longer than you intended; your mouth ran dry as the beginning of a fantasy ― another one you did not need ― flourished. Kisuke’s large hands kneading into your oiled skin. Your breasts, the inside of your thighs, drifting ever farther south …

Stop. Stop. Stop.

“Haha ― hahaha.” Your laughs paired with a quickening heartbeat. “Mr. Urahara ― hahaha ― if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to proposition me!”

You waited for the man on the other land to speak, waited for the punchline, for the inevitable laugh track.

“...Guilty.”

…

Your phone would’ve fallen to the floor had it not been wedged against your cheek.

Oh no.

“I recognize this is awfully forward,” Kisuke said in that easy voice of his. “And if I’m going the wrong way to go about it, I apologize.” A subtle clearing of his throat. “But I like you very much, Miss (Y/n) … And I suspect you may feel the same way about me.”

You felt like you had swallowed a fish whole.

“Look, Mr ― Kisuke,” You corrected yourself again. “I’m ― I’m flattered and all ―”

Shut up.

“ ― and I ― I do think you’re very handsome!”

Shut up.

“― And I always like it when you say sweet things to me!”

Shut up!

“B ― But ―”

“You like it when I say sweet things to you?” You could almost see Kisuke’s brow lift through the phone.

You gulped. Kisuke’s voice had taken on a distinct purr. How could his voice do this to you? Any man’s voice! It was just a man’s voice.

His voice.

You admitted defeat. “Yes.” Your voice was a leaf in the wind.

“Hm.” More shuffling on the other land, and you were probably crazy, but it was almost as if he was … “You want to know what I think, Miss (Y/n)? I think a beautiful woman like you deserves to hear sweet things said about her every day.”

Your throat was dangerously dry now.

“I’m more than willing to fulfill that requirement for you. Come on over, Miss (Y/n),” he coaxed. “I would like to show you just how sweet I can be to you.”

Ah, fuck.

“I can’t sleep with a client,” You whispered into the phone, because this was apparently craziness you were actually considering. “It would be untoward.”

“And I won’t be a client, silly!” Kisuke said. “Didn’t you hear me before? It will just be a day between us, no business involved.”

You couldn’t refute him, and you hated it.

“C’mon,” he cajoled. “Be a good girl for me. Don’t you like being my good girl?”

You rubbed your legs together in a foolish attempt to temper the throb at your cunt, and only adding unneeded friction there.

“Like the day you moved those boxes for me,” Kisuke continued, the husk in his voice clipping at the receiver. “You’re always so good to me. Let me be good to you. Hm? Pretty please?”

You hung up.

You panted ― panted ― and hoped you weren’t making a horrible decision as you abandoned your bed for your closet, keeping in mind to wear your prettiest panties.

“Miss (Y/n)!” Tessai greeted. “What a lovely surprise!”

You let yourself in, worrying the strap of your tote bag as you slinked into the shop and found it deathly quiet within. You looked every which way, looking for the infernal candy man.

“I was not aware we were expecting a delivery,” Tessai said pleasantly.

“There isn’t one,” You said. “I ― I came to see Mr. Urahara.”

“Ahh, I see!” Tessai said. “Well, it just so happens Ururu, Ginta, and I are going out for a day on the town!”

Of fucking course.

“I see.” You suppressed your fidgeting hands. “Well, Mr. Urahara and I probably won’t be long.”

“Very well then, you let me know if he gives you any trouble and I’ll be sure to set him straight.”

You waved Tessi goodbye and listened to the bell jingle in farewell.

Then you were alone. You browsed the aisles of candy displayed at random. You were fiddling with the wrapper of a gummy candy when ―

“I didn’t think you were coming ―”

You spun to see Kisuke beside you. You shot a glance at the door; you hadn’t heard it open, nor had you heard footsteps. How did he keep doing this?

Kisuke smiled, unfazed by your surprise. “But I’m glad you did.”

“Mr. Urahara ―” You continued wrinkling the candy, unsure of what to do with your hands, or, frankly, yourself at all. “I ― I should go, I ―”

“Aww.” Kisuke prowled toward you. He had a great bit of size and height on you; you were nearly face level with his open chest. “And deprive me of your pretty face?”

You bit your lip as Kisuke caressed your face. “I know you’re lying about all that. I’m not ― I’m not even all that.”

“I’m not,” he said. “And you are. Come on back and let me prove it.”

You don’t know how it happened, but before you know it the shogi to the back room was closing. Kisuke’s hands were disappearing underneath your shirt, his lips pressing kisses and devious words into your neck.

“Perfect,” he purred. One hand was unlatching your bra clasp while its twin tweaked and pinched at your nipple through a bra cup. His five o’ clock shadow tickled the skin just below your earlobe. “Just perfect! Would a girl not all that have such” ― he kneaded and groped at your breasts, barely protected by a bra gone limp ― “gorgeous tits? Hm?”

Your head hung back, coincidentally giving Kisuke greater access to your neck, greater opportunity to mark you with teasing teeth marks. Both hands palmed at your breasts now, sending shock waves through your person as his long, talented fingers cornered and bullied your nipples.

“Aah …” You bucked into him, too dazed to be ashamed, eager for his learned touch.

He had put you in such a daze, a maddening collusion of hands and lips and words ― the sweetest words you’d ever heard. Pretty girl, beautiful, so sweet, perfect, so wet. You blinked, opened your eyes; you were naked. When had he gotten you naked and why was he still clothed save his hat and robe?

And with the last iota of sanity you had left you wondered idly whether or not you’d been drugged before that too was taken from you by Kisuke dipping three fingers into your cunt with a drawn out, approving hum.

“Oh!” You could feel your slick coming over his fingers, though nothing in comparison to the sweet pressure of Kisuke’s digits. The intrusion burned. You bit your lip against the sudden pressure. Already his fingers angled upwards in search of the spot that would make you scream, render you speechless. “Kisuke, oh …!”

“So good for me,” Kisuke cooed. His fingers had found their target, and now their thrusts began and ended with your ragged g-spot. You cried out and almost in reward he left a soft kiss on your cheek. “See? You could’ve had this such a long time ago; in the future, let’s not deny ourselves things that feel good.”

Your breath was haggard, patchy. The world had shrunk to the thrust of Kisuke’s fingers. He had you in his lap, an arm wrapped around your middle while his other did its work. You held on to him, arms lazily wrapped around his shoulders, hips rocking into his fingers. All the while he watched you, stormy eyes flickering intently over your face.

“I bet you’d like to come now, right?” he said in a low taunt, thumb brushing idly over your clit.

You nodded frantically, nails dug into his shoulders as he chuckled. “Yes, yes, please ―” you bucked. “Please, Kisuke, please, your ― your thumb!”

“Hm? Oh!” Kisuke’s voice was hilariously casual, as though he didn’t have you sitting in his lap, fingers deep in your cunt, nearing your end. “I didn’t even notice that. Wasn’t trying to be mean.”

And without ceremony he brought his thumb to your clit and gave it the frantic attention you needed, incessantly flicking, rolling, his other fingers still entertained with your sopping hole.

“Go on,” he coaxed. “Pretty girls get to come.”

Your eyes rolled back. Kisuke’s fingers refused to cease, instead speeding up. You hollered and began to clench down on them.

“Good girl …” Kisuke’s head dipped forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth and suck ―

“Fuck!” You quivered in his hold. The obvious imprint of his erection underneath your thigh only sent a second wave of pleasure through you. Kisuke nibbled on your nipple and the fight went out of you, forcing you to fall slack in his arms.

Your cunt continued to suck at his fingers until your whimpers bordered on painful. Only then did Kisuke have the wherewithal ― or mercy or both ― to remove them. Through heavy-lidded eyes you watched him suck the juices from his fingers.

“Hmmm,” he moaned. “Just as I thought; you’re right at home in a candy shop!”

You were still catching your breath, and witnessing such a raunchy display only took away more. “What do you mean?”

“Hm.” Kisuke smiled down at you, wiggling his now clean fingers. “Sweet.”

#kinktober #kinktober 2024 #kisuke smut #kisuke urahara smut #bleach smut #bleach x reader #bleach x reader smut #kisuke x reader #kisuke x reader smut

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disneyprincemuke · 1 year ago

Text

our spot * ls2

a text from you is the last thing logan expects when he's back home for the holidays especially when it's your first text in almost two years

pairings: logan sargeant x fem!reader

warnings: mentions of infidelity

notes: YOOO how is it that i've been screaming about oscar and sebastian for weeks yet i write about logan first anyway? hope u enjoy this bc i OFC enjoyed breaking my own heart while writing this <;/3

super long read btw, it's like 3.7k words

(f1 masterlist)

(part two)

logan isn't back home very often. he doesn't exactly have the chance to, given his circumstances. so when he is, it's typically a nice breath of fresh air. because that's where you are.

or at least, used to be.

he doesn’t hear from you often anymore. since he’d gotten busier with his promotion to f1, it’s been a lot harder to keep in touch with you.

admittedly, he does miss you. but what right does he have to tell you that outwardly?

the only way he knows what’s going on with you are whatever you let the public know of yourself. your instagram posts and stories don’t come often, so logan might as well consider you a stranger.

he only knows one thing, that his mother let slip over the phone during their call, that you’ve started seeing somebody recently. he doesn’t know if you’re still together — the man his mother speaks of doesn’t exist on any of your platforms.

perhaps it’s because it’s only hearsay? but you’ve always been sort of a private person yourself, so he’s not exactly surprised.

logan sighs to himself, rolling his chair over to the window that faces what used to be your bedroom. the window is shut with its curtains drawn.

you moved out the moment you turned 18. he once had your address when you gave it to him, and he kicks himself over the fact that he never got around to visiting you and seeing how you’ve come into your own.

he never got to see the apartment you would talk about growing up and all the decorations you planned on putting up.

he wonders, did you ever keep the framed picture with him when you went to disneyworld as kids? did you bring it with you?

logan huffs and pulls down his blinds. he turns to face his room, leaning back into his seat. it’s the holidays, but there’s nowhere to go and nothing to do with absolutely nobody.

his friends have all gone back to visit and spend time with family. he spent his first couple of days with his family, but even they’ve got better things to eventually.

all he can do is train for his next season.

he decides to finally get up to his feet, grabbing the gym bag that sits on the edge of his bed. he’s just about to drive to the gym when his phone lights up his dim bedroom.

a notification from you that makes his heart race and hands shake. a text from you is the last thing he expected out of his visit.

he hasn’t talked to you in nearly 2 years.

heard ur back home

he raises an eyebrow, tilting his head. he doesn’t write a reply immediately, so much hesitation and confusion mixing in his mind.

it’s taken him so off guard that he comes to a realisation that he doesn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

just for the holidays, im headed back to the uk after new year’s

your response is quick.

our spot

logan’s got no idea what you mean by that. until another text from you comes in.

10 minutes. see u

oh. you’re actually asking to see him.

suddenly he’s got no idea what to do. does he actually go?

he’s pacing around his room, frantically searching for the things he’d need to go and see you. which, wouldn’t actually be much. just his phone, his wallet, and

his gaze lands on the sad pile in the corner of his room, trinkets he’s collected from traveling the world in his first season. collected just for you, like you’d always talked about growing up.

now begs the question: does he bring it with him or does he just forget it ever existed?

doesn’t matter. he grabs his phone and wallet, heading out the door. his history with you is never spoken about.

maybe once, on a drunken night in australia with oscar. when he asked logan why he’s still visibly single, logan explained his situation.

how you kissed him the day he was leaving to stay in europe to fully commit to his junior career. how you’d called him every single night when you were teenagers, waiting around months at a time for him to come by for a short visit.

how you told him you loved him one evening when you were 19, in london when you were over for a visit. and how he had to put it on hold for his junior career, and never had the chance to get around to it because of his commitments to formula 1 now.

he had put it on hold, thinking you’d be around forever for him to come back to. he knows now that he’s never been more wrong in his life.

oscar never brought it up again after seeing the american choke on his words and laugh nervously as he retold the story.

when he found out you were seeing somebody, his heart broke. but he couldn't get himself to ask you about it. he knows it's his fault that you're in somebody else's arms now.

he quietly pads through his home, trying to pass his family members who have all resided in their individual bedrooms. even they've got no idea what's gone down between you two.

as far as they're concerned, you just simply drifted apart with time.

he parks his pickup truck right between the methodist building and what used to be the school you attended together growing up. he sits behind the wheel, eyes scanning the dark for any signs of you being here.

it's not a very far drive, only 5 minutes from his house and yours. just a playground that you used to hang at when you were growing up. when the world got too loud, this is where you'd come to regain composure.

he'd caught you one evening sitting here all alone when you were 8, and it's become your spot for late-night talks ever since. right on that green slide is where logan told you that he wanted to be an f1 driver when he was older.

it was on that blue swing that you admitted the crush you've had on him your entire life, and he reciprocated.

his heart races in his chest, unsure if you'd meant what you texted him. what if you bailed and this was all some sick twisted joke you're pulling on him?

and a random car pulls up in front of the methodist. he anticipates the moment you'd crawl out of the driver's seat, looking different from the last time he saw you - which was about 2 years ago when he last talked to you.

but after about a second, the backseat door opens, your leg poking out with your hair dishevelled in a ponytail. you close the door as you step onto the sidewalk, tugging down your dress that's hiked up your thighs as the car drives off.

logan finally turns off his engine, stepping out shortly after you. your eye roams the quiet street, locking into his as he watches you take a deep breath.

he nods, pointing towards the playground. you nod. he locks his truck and slowly makes his way to the brightly lit playground between the two establishments.

you make a beeline for the swing, dropping yourself down and bending forward to unstrap the heels that suffocate your feet. logan's not even going to ask where you'd come from all dolled up.

he occupies the empty swing next to you, clasping his hands together and placing them between his knees. it's a lot colder than he initially anticipated and his sweatpants are barely keeping him comfortable.

you sit in silence for the next couple of minutes. there's chatter from the methodist building next to you. you pick at your nails, trying to soften your breathing.

it's only then logan notices that your cheeks are flushed and the smell of alcohol in the air. which is obviously not coming from either place that surrounds both of you.

"are you drunk?" logan starts in a whisper, craning his neck down trying to get a look at you.

you look at him from the side of your eyes, lips pouted out in a frown. "tipsy," you correct him, "not drunk."

he nods to himself, rocking back and forth on the swing. he leans his head on the chain that holds his body up. he doesn't really know what to say.

in fact, he doesn't think there's much to say. you were the one who started ghosting him all those years ago. he's not upset or bitter about it, but he completely understands why you'd done it.

if he were in your position, he can almost guarantee that he would have taken the same measures.

"how long have you been back?" you ask, eyes tracing the design on the rubber playground floor. "why didn't you tell me?"

logan raises his eyebrows. "uh," he stutters, "i didn't know i had to. i'm sorry."

you shrug. "you didn't have to," you trail off, dropping your head low to avoid his gaze. "i just thought you would've told me when you'd come for a visit. we haven't seen each other in a while."

yeah, 2 years, he wanted to say.

"it's cause we haven't seen each other in a while that i didn't think to tell you i'm back home," logan admits solemnly, pressing his lips together. "i'm sorry, though. if i knew, you would've been the first person i told."

"i'm sorry i stopped picking up your calls," you suddenly say softly. "and answering your text messages. and telling my parents to tell you i'm away on vacation every time you came to visit."

he just nods. it hurt when you first started distancing yourself from him. but, what can he do?

he sort of caught on in the second week after you let him facetime call ring twice without an answer. that would’ve marked the fifth call you ignored, and the twentieth text you left him on delivered.

so he dropped it. he thought that maybe you would come around when he comes back to miami. apparently not, because you were ‘away’ on a trip with friends. which, now he knows, could possibly be just a lie.

logan smiles, mostly to himself as you’re looking straight ahead at the playground’s structure. “i get it. it’s alright.”

“no, really,” you adjust yourself to look at him with a sigh. “i feel horrible every single day about what i did. but i just didn’t know how to cope with the fact that you put me in the backseat when i was right there.”

“hey.” logan slumps his shoulders. suddenly he feels a tinge of guilt in his chest, and no amount of quick convincing makes it go away. “i understand why you did what you did. you deserve to be with someone who puts you first. i didn’t do that.”

you shake your head. a small smile creeps up on your face, looking up as your eyes start to glisten under the lights. “you don’t get it.”

“what do you mean?”

“i miss you,” you say in a sigh. “i thought you said you loved me too?”

“i did,” logan nods. then he corrects himself: “i do.”

“i still think of you,” you admit with a small smile. you laugh dryly to yourself before looking ahead at the playground. “sometimes i wonder how different our lives would be if i’d just never… stopped waiting.”

logan rests his head on the chain that holds the swing up. “sometimes i wonder how nice it’d be if i’d just,” he sighs, “chosen you.”

“same.”

he can see himself on the playground with you all those years ago. sitting in the structure, giggling with one another as you talk about your separate lives.

your lives seem to come together when you’re on that playground, though you walk separate paths that would prove to be more detrimental to your friendship.

you’d indulge one another in gossip the other had no idea about, but tried their hardest to relate and mirror frustrations. more often than not, a notebook is laid down on the ground between you while you try to draw out the situation of said gossips.

it always makes logan cringe thinking of how invested he’d gotten in your drama with your friends.

“i’m seeing somebody,” you whisper.

“i heard from mum.”

“yeah.”

logan takes a few breaths. “is he good to you?”

you nod. he just smiles then plants his feet into the ground. “that’s good. i’m so happy for you.”

“he’s not you, though, logan.”

he turns his head, looking at you in shock. “what?”

“i want you to tell me i’ve made a mistake,” you say flatly, turning your head to look at him with a frown. “tell me i shouldn’t be with him.”

“i can’t say that to you,” logan frowns, eyebrows furrowing at your sudden request. “i can’t decide that for you.”

you take a deep breath, shakily letting it out. “tell me you still want me, logan. and i’m all yours.” you sigh. “but i need you to say it to my face. cause i won’t wait for you if you don’t ask me to stay.”

logan searches your eyes for any sort of hesitation, or signs of backing off. but he doesn’t. you’ve got that same glimmer in your eye that he’s seen over and over again.

“i do,” he sighs, shaking his head. “i really do. but i can’t promise you anything. i’ll only break your heart. you know this. we lead two very different lives.”

you shrug, dropping your head again. “we could make it work. you’ll never really know.”

“please don’t do this. you’re with somebody else who gives you the world, i’m sure,” he tried to explain to you. “better than i can. you know at least that for a fact.”

you finally stand up, fists clenched by your side. “i can see it in your eyes, logan. you don’t want things to be this way — i’m giving you a chance to change the course of things.”

he looks up at you, lips parted and mind running with thoughts that all contradicted one another.

not talking to you took a while to get used to. especially when he moved up to formula 1, it was hard to find someone to talk to who would listen to him talk without judgement.

he needed your presence the most when he felt so out of place in his environment; like he was an imposter who didn’t deserve to be where he did.

your sudden departure from his life took a harder hit than he cares to admit. he thought about you every single day: the one person who can tell which smiles he fakes on the daily.

the ultimatum you’re giving him is too tough to make a decision on the spot. in hindsight, he’s not only breaking your heart, but also his.

logan sighs, standing up to tower over you. he hovers a hand over your shoulder. “let me drive you home.”

“no, come on, logan!” you shove his hand away from you and stumble a step back. “do something for once! risk something!”

“it’s not that easy.”

“but it is,” you say, matter-of-factly, giving him a stare of indifference. you hold your arms up by your side and raise your eyebrows. “i know my pain is such an imposition. but i’m tired of feeling like this when i know how you feel for me!

“when i know how to make this pain go away. work with me here, logan.”

“i can’t do that because there are more important things on the line for me right now!” logan spits at you, throwing his hands into the air. “i do, okay! i do love you! i think about you every single day, but i can’t throw away everything i’ve ever worked for just to be with you!”

“who says you’ve got to do that?” you shout back, shoving him slightly. “i’m asking you to choose me alongside everything you’ve got, not drop your entire career for me!”

“i’m a fucking laughing stock, do you not see what’s circulating the internet?” he asks exasperatedly with an eyeroll. “you don’t want that going for you. i’ve got bigger things to work on.”

he turns on his heel and walks towards his truck. when he doesn’t hear your footsteps following him, he stops halfway and turns to you. “get in the car, i’m driving you back.”

“so this is how it’s going to be?” you laugh dryly, gesturing at your surroundings with a finger point. “you’re just going to push me aside because you think you can’t give me what i need?”

“i don’t think it — i know so.”

“and what exactly is it that you think i need?”

“somebody to show up for you when it matters,” logan huffs, slowly making his way back over to you. “somebody who can love you even on his worst days; who can take you out on dates, love you on your bad days, and just be there for you.

“i can’t even do that for myself. what the hell makes you think i can do all of that for you?”

he stops right in front of you, chest heaving from frustration and eyebrows furrowed as he towers over you. “i won’t be the person who can give you what you need. not now, i’m still working to be better.”

“you don’t know that.”

“i’m done with this conversation, (y/n),” he sighs, taking a step back. the smell of your perfume increases his urge to just pull you into his arms, but he can’t do that to you, himself, or the guy you’re with. “get in the car, i’m driving you home.”

"fine, whatever," you snap, folding your arms over your chest and stomping towards him to reach the white pickup truck by the corner.

when he planned on coming home for the winter break, you reaching out was never one of his things to expect. he thought that you were absolutely done with him, given that you hadn't talked to him in nearly two years.

his brothers giving him flack for his formula 1 season, maybe, but you confessing your feelings for him all over again? he hadn't ever thought about it in a million years.

when he climbs into the driver's seat, you've already fastened your seatbelt. your legs are crossed, like your arms over your chest, and your body is tilted towards the window.

logan sighs. "(y/n). please understand it from my side. i don't want to hurt you any more than i already have. you don't deserve this."

you still don't meet his eyes. your eyes are trained on the dark scenery outside with a prominent frown on your face. "just take me back to my parents' house."

"what about your apartment?"

"i put it out on the market a month ago," you admit softly as logan turns on the engine. "i'm moving out of miami."

now, logan is typically a well-tempered person. growing up with brothers, it's definitely one way to train that aspect of yourself.

but the last time he had asked you to reconsider moving to the united kingdom with him after graduation, you had refused. because your life is here in miami: your family, your friends, and everything you've ever known.

all of a sudden, you're moving out of here?

he hadn't faulted you initially, but he might just start seeing a change of heart if it comes down to this.

logan shifts in his seat uncomfortably, lifting his foot from the gas pedal. suddenly he's curious to know more about what's going on in your life: moving out of the house is one thing for you, but moving to a completely different place is something else.

"where are you going?"

"new york for a couple months," you say, staring at the street ahead. "just for some training. after that, i'm off to germany. i got a job offer."

"what about your boyfriend?"

"i haven't told him about it yet," you shrug, "i've been thinking of you too much to consider what is to come of the relationship eventually."

"you shouldn't do that. i'm not your boyfriend."

a dry scoff passes your lips. "thanks, i actually know that."

he pulls up to the front yard of his home. pulling up the handbrake, he turns to you with a hand on the backrest of your seat. "i'm serious. don't sabotage whatever you've got going on for you. embrace it."

"really?" you scrunch your nose as you turn to face him. "life advice from someone who keeps sabotaging all of the lifelines i keep throwing out for him to save what we had going on for years?"

logan sighs. he raises his hands to surrender. "fine. do what you want. i only want the best for you and i know it's not me."

"whatever, logan," you scoff, taking off your seatbelt. you throw it back into place and unlock the car door, pushing it open. "i won't be around forever: remember that."

you crawl out and slam the door behind you. all logan can do is sink in his seat and watch you cross the road, walk up to your front door and shut that behind you as well. you don't spare him another look, which is when it all washes over him like tsunami waves.

but as much as he wants you, he will have to stand true to his words. because he knows his truth: he isn't the person you deserve to be with.

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carlottawllms · 1 year ago

Text

Forbidden Taste

Mason Mount x Reader Fluff / Angst-ish / Smut

I was close to deleting all of this bc I’m not really happy with it. I had this great story in my head and the fact that it sounded so perfect was probably the biggest problem bc no matter what I tried, it never came out the way I wanted it to.

But since I haven’t posted in what feels like forever, I’ve decided to still post it for you. I've made peace with the fic rn and I really hope it’s not as bad as I think it is and you can still enjoy reading it.

As always, feedback is very much appreciated! Enjoy 🩷

“It’s so nice to have you with us, y/n.”, Debbie smiled when she pulled you into her side a little. “I feel like we haven’t seen each other in forever.”

“Yeah, it was a lot easier when he was still in London.”, you sighed, your heart hurting a little at the reminder of having to leave your best friend in only a little more than a day. “But I’m glad I could finally make it up here, watch him play and see you again.”

Literally everything had been easier before Mason’s move to Manchester. Life had been easier with your best friend around.

You’d met Mase quite early in life through your older brother Ben and it hadn’t taken long for the two of you to become what Ben liked to call besties. You and Mason had been attached at the hip ever since, never separated unless it was absolutely necessary. “Little-Mount and little-Chilwell causing chaos in the world.”, your mum had used to say with a smile on her face and although Ben had hated it sometimes, he was mainly incredibly happy there was someone else looking out for his little sister.

And then this summer, one of the worst things had happened: He’d left Chelsea and moved up North and as happy as you were for him to have found a club that appreciated and wanted him, you couldn’t help but feel absolutely heartbroken to be so far away from him.

Especially as now, juggling watching him play without abandoning Ben and the other way around had become an every week struggle. And you hated it.

“He knows it’s not easy and he’d never hold it against you.”, Lewis, who just passed you mentioned, making you nod. He was right and you knew it, but it didn’t make you feel less bad.

Mason was special to you. And you missed him. A lot.

You and Debbie kept talking for a while until Mason came over. He handed his mother the menu from that Italian he’d found a few days ago, before he turned to you. You having already raised your eyebrow made him chuckle.

“I know you offered to cook, but as much as I would love it, I just want you to spend time with us and not in the kitchen.”, he smiled softly as he sneaked his arm over your shoulders, the tips of his fingers just about caressing your collarbone.

“Fine.”, you grumbled jokingly. “But next time you’ll let me cook for you, Mister.”

Mason dropped a barely-there kiss to the top of your head before burying his nose in your hair. “I promise.”, he mumbled, unaware of his mother’s fond expression at the sight of her son and his best friend.

It was undeniable that there was something between the two of you. The bond had always been close but over the last year or so something else had developed. There was this tension surrounding you two whenever you were alone or at least close to each other and you both knew it.

You’d both become incredibly attracted to one another, basically longing for something more than a friendship, but because it was practically impossible as Ben would most likely have Mason’s head for seducing his little sister, you’d subconsciously settled on a friendship.

It didn’t mean that it was easy though. Both of you were quite big on touch, meaning that cuddling, forehead and cheek kisses as well as his hand on your thigh or the small of your back weren’t rare occurrences.

You sought out each other’s proximity whenever it was possible and lately, the moments in which only a phone or someone calling for either of you kept you from actually kissing occurred more and more frequently.

Maybe it was a good thing, to avoid the basically pre-programmed quarrel with Ben, but your heart longed for him a little more with every passing opportunity.

“I’ll ask Tony to order. y/n, what do you want?” Debbie interrupted your train of thoughts, attempting to hand you the menu, but Mason was quick in snatching it away.

“Oh, she’s not allowed to choose, mum. I’ve done that already.”, Mason grinned, causing his mother to frown, but when you simply smiled and nodded, she let it go. “The list is in the kitchen; you can put yours on there too and ask Lew if he’s finally picked something.”

Him ordering for you was only one of the many insiders you and Mason shared. You couldn’t even remember when it had happened for the first time, but at some point you had known each other well enough to be able to order for the other, so whenever Mason had found a new restaurant, he got to choose your first meal there, whilst with a place you’d found you got the first choice for him.

“We’ll eat outside since the weather is still nice, but knowing your freezing ass, you should probably go and grab yourself something warmer to wear.”, Mason grinned as he tapped the end of your nose.

“About that”, you mumbled, feeling how your cheeks heated up. “I forgot to bring a hoodie.”

“You out of all people forgot a hoodie?”, Mason laughed in disbelief. “You live in those, y/n. Are you sick?”

Giggling, you ducked away when he tried to press his hand flat to your forehead to check your temperature. “Go away, Mount.”, you moaned in fake annoyance. “I overslept and it was a faff to even get my train. When I ran out of the flat, I accidentally left it on the sofa.”

Mason sighed before grabbing your arm and pulling you along and up the stairs. “You can have one of mine then. As an exception.”

An exception…as if you hadn’t worn his stuff hundreds of times already.

You knew he probably thought you’d forgotten it on purpose, but eventhough you loved wearing his clothes, you hadn’t lied. You truly had forgotten yours at home.

It didn’t take you long to make your choice, eyes already settled on your favourite the second you entered his walk-in-closet. You’d fallen in love with it when you’d helped Mason film his very first TikTok and had worn it for several occasions already.

“Do I even need to ask which one you want, or should I just grab the one I know you’ll go for?”

For a moment you were willing to take another one out of sheer pettiness, but the memory of how fluffy on the inside the one you loved was, was too tempting, so you simply pushed past him, bumping him with your hip in the process as you walked over and pulled the hoodie out.

“I’ve bought a new one by the way.”, he informed you whilst watching you struggle with pulling the fabric over your head. “I think you’ll really like it.”

“Stop talking and help me, Mount.”, you grumbled as for some reason you couldn’t figure out how to put it on. There was just too much fabric.

“Sorry, sorry.”, he laughed, before coming for your rescue. He turned the hoodie a little, helping you put your arms through and eventually pulled it over your head properly. “It just looked too funny.”

Your hair was all over the place as he looked at you, soft brown eyes locked on yours and only when his warm breath fanned your face did you realise just how close he was. All the tiny freckles, the moles and the crinkles by his eyes were right in front of you and the way his chocolate eyes stared back into yours had a shiver running down your spine.

With his fingers gently stroking down the sides of your neck, Mason leaned in and nuzzled his nose against yours and when his eyes dropped to your lips, your mind went blank. Slowly, you leaned in. Your heart was racing in your chest, threatening to burst your ribcage, but from where you’d placed your hands flat against his toned chest you could tell that his wasn’t doing much better.

When his lips just about brushed yours, you closed your eyes, ready to finally give in to what your heart had been begging for forever. Mason’s warm hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you a little closer and-

“Mase? y/n? The food is here.”

At the sound of Debbie's voice, you both startled apart, taking a step or two back from each other with your gazes cast to the floor. Your heart sank in your chest as yet another moment had passed and when you raised your gaze you could see Mason scratching the back of his head awkwardly. His cheeks were flushed, and he couldn’t meet your eyes, looking everywhere but at you.

“We erm…we should go downstairs.”, you mumbled.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”, you agreed quietly, trying to hide the sadness as best as you could. What if this was the universe telling you that you and Mase weren’t meant to be?

Once back downstairs, being around his family helped to get rid of the awkward tension between the two of you and the moment you sat down on the dinner table on Mason’s terrace, you and he were back to normal, joking around like you always were and all thoughts of the almost-kiss buried where all the other similar moments were stored as well.

“Water?”, he asked, sending you a soft smile and when you nodded, he reached for your glass to pour some in.

“Thanks.”

For a while you just sat there and listened to what the others were talking about. After that moment upstairs, after his lips had brushed yours ever so softly, you couldn’t think straight anymore. You’d been given a tiny taste and now you wanted more.

You looked up when you felt Mason’s foot nudging yours, thinking he wanted something, but he simply smiled at you and locked his feet around your ankle.

“y/n, by the way, how is university treating you?”, Lewis asked, pulling your attention away from his little brother. The way he was speaking with his mouth full of pasta earned him a warning look from his mother, but he was a master in ignoring that.

“Good.”, you nodded. “But I’m glad I’m nearly done. Just adding the finishing touches to my thesis and then I’m all done. Hopefully.”

“Oh, I have no doubts about that, my dear.”, Debbie smiled, and Tony was quick to agree. “You’ll be the world’s best lawyer, y/n.”

You blushed a little, dropping your gaze to the table with a smile. Mason’s family had always been as supportive as your own, making you feel as if you belonged to them as much as you belonged into your own and words couldn’t describe just how special that felt.

“I mean there’s still a long road ahead, but I can’t wait to jump headfirst into work and actually do something other than just reading about it all.”

“I can imagine.”, Tony smiled. “If we ever need a bit of support without actually hiring a lawyer, we can count on you, right?”

“Contract law is not my specialisation.”, you laughed. “But I know the basics, so as long as you don’t heavily rely on me, you can always ask away.”

You all kept talking about everything and nothing for a while, simply enjoying being reunited with each other and once again you noticed how easy everything could be if it wasn’t for you being a Chilwell.

You would be able to be with Mason, the one person who meant so much to you and with whom everything seemed so easy. There would be no awkward talking stage, no first dates where you couldn't really be yourself. His family had long since accepted you as a part of them and even if you'd only overheard by accident, you knew Debbie saw you as the perfect daughter-in-law.

It could be easy. It could be perfect. It could be you and Mason.

“y/n?” You were startled out of your thoughts when Tony nudged you and repeated your name laughingly.

“What? Yeah sorry, I zoned out for a moment. What was the question?”

“I asked what time your train is.”

“Right. 4pm from the main station. Ben promised to pick me up in London.”

Ever since the moment upstairs, Mason had forgotten about Ben altogether. He’d simply enjoyed having you around, looking at you and watching you get along so well with his family. But the mention of his best friend’s name was like someone had emptied a bucket of ice right over his head.

He shouldn’t feel like this; he couldn’t. Dropping his gaze, Mason pulled his feet away from yours. The physical contact suddenly too much.

Your heart dropped at the loss of contact, eyes searching for his, but they remained stoically focussed on the table. You hated how much you liked him, how much you longed for him.

“If that isn’t my least favourite human in the world.”, Ben joked the moment you flopped onto the passenger seat in his car. It was his typical greeting for you and whilst normally you would roll your eyes at him, you couldn’t muster up more than a tired smile.

“Hi. You’re good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. I just- What’s wrong?” Ben turned the car off again, noticing straight away that something was wrong.

“Nothing, I’m just tired.”, you said. “You know how these long train rides are.”

Lying to your brother wasn’t one of the things you particularly enjoyed. In fact, you hated it because you knew he’d be disappointed knowing you felt like you couldn’t talk to him about certain things, but with this one you had you. There was no way you could tell him that you missed Mason already.

“You know I can read you like an open book, right? What’s wrong? Did something happen with Mase? I’ll chop his head off if he hurt you.”

A quiet chuckle left your lips. “You know him, Benji. He would never. I’m just tired.” You sent your brother a smile, hoping to convince him with it and although you were sure it didn’t work, Ben let it go.

“I ordered some pizza for us, but I can eat at mine if you want to be on your own for a bit. You know like, charge your social battery?”

He tried to hide it, but you could still make out the slightly sad tone in his voice and as much as you’d love to be alone for a bit after being constantly surrounded by people those last days, you’d never send your own brother away.

“Nonsense, Ben. We’ll eat at my place.”

During the 30-minute drive home, you kept checking your phone, but Mason still hadn’t replied to your text. You’d let him know you’d gotten into Ben’s car safely and whilst normally Mason was practically glued to his phone until the moment he received your text, now 20 minutes later, he still hadn’t replied.

You knew it wasn’t that big of a deal. Maybe he was just taking a nap, tidying up his flat or had simply forgotten to reply, but it did make you a little sad.

After Ben and you had finished the pizza and caught up with each other’s plans for the week, he’d bid his goodbye and left you getting ready for bed. After sitting in the train for nearly four hours, you were too tired to do your whole skincare and although your skin would probably hate you for it, you only removed your make-up and put some moisturiser on.

You’d just crawled under the covers and made yourself comfortable, ready to watch a bit of Netflix to fall asleep, when your phone lit up.

Subconsciously, a smile pulled at your lips as warmth spread through your whole body. Missing you already. Giggling, you rolled over, hiding your red cheeks in your pillow as giddiness filled your tummy.

You messaged him back to tell him that you missed him too before snuggling back into the sheets and closing your eyes to get some much needed shut-eye.

The next time you got to see Mason was weeks later on Ben’s birthday and you couldn’t be more relieved the moment he hugged you close to his body.

At United, things weren’t going exactly great for him. Deep down you knew he was fine and that going through a rough patch wasn’t the end of the world, but you hated it. You hated that he didn’t get to play much, that he didn’t get the chance to show his talent and shine in the team. And you hated that you couldn’t be there for him properly.

Obviously, you’d stayed in touch throughout the last couple of weeks. You’d talked a lot, facetimed and kept each other updated on what’s been going on.

Mason was fine, working hard and fighting for his place in the starting xi, but you couldn’t help and squeeze him a little tighter before letting go.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Mase flicked your nose jokingly the moment you’d stepped back from him and when he held his hand out, you realised. You’d forgotten your signature handshake.

Mason and you giggled through it, not being able to stay serious at the sequence of funny hand movements and when he eventually finished it with a bow and kiss to the back of your hand, you both laughed out loud.

“I’m still wondering what’s wrong with you two.”, Ben shook his head, but the smile on his face was visible for everyone.

“You’re just jealous mate.” Mason punched his best friend’s shoulder before pulling you into his side to get something to drink.

But it wasn’t long before you were separated. His friends and former teammates hadn’t seen him in forever and wanted to catch up with him and as much as you would’ve loved to spend the whole evening with Mason, you knew he was dying to talk to them in person.

You were giggling away with Sophie as you clinked your glasses together. Neither of you were even close to being drunk, but you’d had enough to be a bit buzzed and for everything to be that little bit funnier.

When Ben had introduced Sophie as your girlfriend to you about a year ago, you’d been a bit hesitant. He hadn't had much luck with his ex-girlfriends, instead he’d been through hell and back at times, so naturally you questioned her intentions, but it hadn’t taken her long to get you on her side.

She was good for him, supportive and incredibly understanding. She’d struggled with mental health too, so she knew what it meant and understood him in a way no one else did. She had his back and made him happy. She cared for him and that really was everything you needed to know.

Whilst the two of you stood there, gossiping a little about your brother’s friends, your gaze kept wandering to Mason. You knew it was wrong, but every time your eyes caught his over the distance, your stomach fluttered, and you couldn’t help but get addicted to the feeling that arose whenever your eyes locked and he smiled softly.

You blushed when it happened again, your gaze dropping to the ground. It felt like your little secret as by some miracle neither Sophie, nor Woody who was talking to Mason had caught onto it yet.

“I’ll erm head to the loo real quick.”

The feeling of Mason’s eyes on you as you made your way through the room had the butterflies going wild in your tummy. He probably thought you were heading towards him, but he just happened to stand right next to the hallway that led to the loo.

You grazed your hand against his as you passed him, your heart pathetically skipped a beat at the tiny contact, and you had to drop your head slightly to hide your blushed cheeks.

Once you’d finished in the bathroom – you’d taken a bit longer as you’d had to fix your hair a little – you returned to the living room, finding everyone gathered around Ben’s dinner table. Confused, you looked Sophie, but she actually found you first.

“There you are! We were looking for you.”, she grinned. “You’re teamed up with Mase.”

With furrowed brows you looked at her. “Teamed up for what?”

“Oh, apparently there’s several games planned, I don’t know drinking games or something, like quizzes and stuff and I teamed you up with Mase.”, Sophie winked, reminding you of that feeling you’d been having for a while now: She was playing cupid and tried to get you and Mason together.

You weren’t entirely sure, but throughout the last couple of weeks if not months, she’d made small comments about how well you and him got along or about how last time Mason was over at Ben’s, he’d talked quite a lot about you and whilst it made you a little giddy that she apparently was very in favour of a potential relationship, you knew it was impossible. Ben wouldn’t have it at all.

“Drinking games? What are we, 14?”

“Don’t be a party pooper, it’ll be fun.”, Sophie laughed before pulling you along to where Mason was leaning against a wall. “Here you have your partner in crime.”

Mason laughed quietly, agreeing internally that you were indeed his partner in crime, before pulling you into his side a little. “I’m glad it’s you cause now I know that at least one in this team has the brains for what’s to come.”

“You’re pretty intelligent yourself, Mase. And I feel like your pretty face makes up for the lack of knowledge in some areas, if you ask me.”

The questions started off rather easy, but you knew it wouldn’t stay that way for too long. There was no fun in everyone getting all the answers right when there were body shots and other punishments for whenever a wrong answer was given.

“Mase, what’s the smallest mammal in the world?”, Ben asked, a proud grin on his face as there was no way his best friend would know the answer to this question.

Panicking, Mason turned his head to you in hopes you could give him a little hint, but you only shrugged as you didn’t know the answer either. Or rather you weren’t entirely sure you knew.

“No clue, mate.”, he laughed. “A squirrel maybe?”

“Wrooooong.”, Ben grinned, hitting the red buzzer he’d bought for today and everyone cheered excitedly for what was about to come. “Time for the punishment. Either you or y/n have to lay down here on the table and let the other take a bodyshot off your body.”

If his cheeks hadn’t been slightly red from the alcohol already, they definitely would’ve been flushed by now. Bodyshots hadn’t been on his agenda for the evening…and definitely not when they included you.

“I can go for it.”, you offered with a smile as you stepped closer to the table.

You knew Mason wasn’t one of those guys who liked to show off and get shirtless more often than not and with so many people – especially women – around, you were sure he’d feel uncomfortable.

“No, it’s fine, don’t worry. I’ll lay down, you take the shot. I’ve had enough for now.” He gently pushed past you, manoeuvring you towards the side of the table as he hoped the others would buy his excuse. He hadn’t even had that much to drink, but he desperately didn’t want you to be the one to lay down.

As much as he disliked the idea of getting shirtless randomly on a birthday party, the thought of you only in your bra for everyone on show was way worse. There was no way all the other men would get to see you half-naked.

You knew there was no point in arguing with him. Once Mase had made up his mind, there was no going back so instead you watched him taking off his shirt, revealing that toned body of his that, no matter how often you’d seen it already, still had the breath catching in the back of your throat. The way his muscles danced under his smooth skin made you want to reach out and touch him all over.

Especially that tiny mole you’d only recently noticed.

Mason hoisted himself on the table and it was only then that you snapped out of your thoughts and noticed the women in the room ogling him, causing your tummy to drop.

You had no right to be jealous, you knew that, but you couldn’t help it. He looked like he’d been crafted by the gods and whilst you knew it was impossible, you just really wanted him to be yours and only yours.

Once he was on his back, his hands by his side, he turned his head and looked for you. His big brown eyes locked on yours and to your surprise he looked a little hesitant. “Relax, it’s just me.”, you whispered before placing the slice of lime right between his lips.

Mason’s eyes squeezed shut adorably for a moment when the sour liquid touched his lips and when a soft giggle left your lips, you felt him squeezing your arm gently.

The little crowd around you whistled when you placed your hand on your thigh and leaned down, but all you could focus on was the way he felt the moment you licked a stripe through the valley of his abs. His muscles contracted where your tongue touched to wet his skin and when you got back up to sprinkle the salt over the wetness, it was way too soon to part.

The second the tequila dropped into his navel, Mason’s whole body shivered. Squeezing his thigh, you smiled at him softly. “You’re ready?”

You noticed how his eyes were a little darker when they locked back on yours, but he was quick in nodding. “Go ahead.”

Just like before, you leaned down and licked the salt from his skin, fingers digging into his thigh a little as you were slowly becoming addicted to what he felt like. Gently, your lips brushed his skin before you quickly sucked the tequila out of his navel and as you moved up the side of his body, ready to take the lime, your hand trailed up his stomach, causing goosebumps to erupt all over his skin.

With your back shielding you both, you dipped down. You stared into his dark eyes, filled with something you couldn’t quite place and when your teeth dug into the lime and your lips just about brushed his, your heart stumbled in your chest.

It had only been the tiniest of touches, but it had been enough to set your whole body on fire an from the way Mason looked, flushed cheeks, his lips still slightly parted and a clouded expression in his eyes, you could tell that he felt it too.

You wanted to let go of the lime and lean back down to kiss him properly, but you knew you couldn’t. The whole situation had already been going on for far too long to be considered normal and you were conscious about your brother watching, so you came back up and sucked the juice from the lime in front of the others. You were convinced your face was as red as a tomato, but with the tequila in your system maybe the others would blame it on that.

As the party kept going, pretty much all you were busy with was staring at Mason. Ever since the moment your lips had touched his, the addiction you’d always felt towards him had increased tenfold and he seemed to look even better now.

You wondered if his white t-shirt had already hugged his body that perfectly when you’d arrived and whenever he wet his lips you couldn’t help but focus on his mouth.

“Earth to y/n?” Ben snipping his fingers right in front of you brought you back into reality.

“Sorry. What?”

“Are you okay?”, he looked at you with his perfected caring-big-brother look, head slightly tilted and eyebrows furrowed.

“Just tired.”, you smiled reassuringly. “I think I’ll actually leave now to get some shut eye.”

“But you’re not going on your own, y/n.”

You were tempted to roll your eyes, but you knew he only meant well. Being outside on your own really wasn’t the safest thing to do, but you only lived about 10 minutes away, so you didn’t see the harm in walking home or taking an Uber. “I’m a big girl, Ben.”

“No, y/n. I won’t have you leaving on your own. It’s too da-“

“I’ll make sure she gets home safely, okay? I’m leaving now, and I pass her apartment on the way to the hotel anyway.”, Mason explained as he suddenly appeared next to you, his fingers gently tickling the small of your back.

You weren’t entirely sure if it was a good idea for him to bring you home. This newfound deep attraction towards him was worrying you and with the alcohol in your system you weren’t sure you could hold yourself back. You could still feel his lips brushing yours, his skin beneath yours and the way his muscles had contracted because of the way you’d touched him.

He’d been so close; so within reach, but at the same time so far away and it made your head spin. You weren’t even sure if he felt the same for you or if it had only ever been in the spur of the moment.

Once you’d both bid your goodbyes and left Ben’s house, silence settled over you. The atmosphere between the two of you was a little awkward – at least it felt like that for you. Mason was uncharacteristically quiet, and you didn’t really know what to say. The whole bodyshot situation had obviously created a strange tension and you hated the thought of having ruined a perfectly good friendship with a stupid drinking game.

What if he felt weird about you now? You’d practically taken advantage of the way he’d been lying there with no where to go. What if all the other situations before today had only ever seemed obvious to you? What if he’d always found it weird?

Little did you know though, that Mason was still thinking about where you’d touched his skin. The feeling of your tongue licking the salt off his tummy was etched into his brain, but the moment that had left a long-lasting impression was your lips brushing his for the tiniest moment. He’d wanted to kiss you forever and now that he’d had a tiny taste, he wanted more. He wanted you.

Mason felt stupid. Who the hell fell in love with their best friend’s little sister?

Thankfully, it wasn’t long until you were back to normal though, joking around and talking about everything and nothing and you couldn’t explain just how relieved you were. Mason was one of the most important people in your life and losing him sounded like your worst nightmare.

Too soon for your liking, you reached your house. Mason, claiming he could use a little workout, took the stairs to the third floor with you and once you were in front of your door, you realised you weren’t ready to say goodbye yet.

“Do you want to come in?”

When your eyes locked on his you could see the whirlwind of emotions in them, so it didn’t come as a surprise when he shook his head no.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, y/n.”, he whispered, gaze dropping to his shoes.

You hated what today had caused. This hesitation to spend time together had never been there before and the thought of him going back to Manchester and distancing himself even more was terrifying you.

“Yeah, you’re probably right.”, you nodded as you tried to hide your sadness. “Night Mase.”

Quickly, you leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was something you always did when saying goodbye to him, but tonight it felt different. More intimate, more meaningful.

Mason stood there, rooted to the spot. The cogs in his head were turning like crazy, but after a split second, he reached out and grabbed your arm to hold you back. Turning around, you were about to ask what he wanted, but before you could even open your mouth, his lips were on yours.

Too surprised, you couldn’t even reciprocate the kiss and when Mason noticed, he was quick in pulling back, lips parted and eyes searching yours frantically. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have don’t that, y/n. I’m just-“

But you just shut him up by pressing your lips to his again. Your hand moved to the back of his neck, fingertips just about reaching into his soft hair, whilst the other found a home on his shoulder and once Mason had realised what was happening, he kissed you back deeply.

It was a desperate kiss. One that the both of you had been craving forever and with his lips moving against yours passionately, he walked you backwards into your flat until you were trapped in between his heavy body and the wall.

You sighed against his lips, as he deepened the kiss, his fingers sneaking beneath your shirt and digging softly into your flesh and when he gently buried his teeth into your bottom lip, a hoarse moan of his name tumbled from your lips.

Mason was quick in using the chance to invade your mouth and the moment he brushed his tongue against yours with langued, lazy strokes you lost all capacity to think straight. All you could focus on was the way he kissed you and touched you. He was an insanely good kisser, better than in your wildest dreams and whilst deep down you knew this was wrong and could ruin everything, it all felt so right.

“We shouldn’t do this.”, you breathed heavily against his lips the moment he pulled away to catch his breath, but contrary to your words, you pulled his shirt up and over his head, desperately to see his naked upper body from up close and once the shirt was out of the way, your fingers trailed all over his soft skin.

“I know.” His brown eyes were blown out, clouded and dark when they locked on yours, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “But it feels so fucking good to kiss you, y/n.”

“It does.”

“Jump.” His warm hands had now fully grabbed your hips and when you obeyed and jumped, legs wrapping around his waist, his hands moved to cup your bum and pull you flush against his body. You could feel his crotch pressing right against yours and when you felt how hard he was, you blushed deeply. “I’ve waited way too long for this to stop now.”

His lips were back on yours in an instant, moving against yours as he walked the two of you further into your flat until he sat down on the sofa, with you still in his lap and you didn’t waste a second to grind down.

“Jesus, y/n.”, he moaned into your mouth, hands tightening on your waist to stop you from moving for a second. “Are you sure about this? We’ve both had some alcohol and once we’ve done this, we can’t undo it.”

“I know.”, you smiled before leaning in and kissing him softly. The expression in his eyes was serious now and your heart warmed at the way he was so mindful. “But I want this, Mase. I promise, I want you. Just like you want me.”

When you dipped your hand in between your bodies and cupped his dick over the fabric of his pants, Mason’s eyes darkened. “Feels so good.”, he moaned quietly the more pressure you applied and once his eyes had fallen shut, you leaned in and let you lips travel along his jaw, leaving tiny kisses and nibbled all over his soft skin. You relished in the way he sighed and moaned quietly as you continued to palm him.

“Will you let me make you feel good, Masey?” The quiet whisper had him shuddering beneath you and with a deep sigh he nodded. It already felt like heaven on earth, and he couldn’t wait to feel you without the barrier of his trousers.

You dropped to your knees in between his parted legs, hands moving up and down his thick thighs until you eventually unbuckled his belt and opened the zipper. Mason helped you by lifting his hips and soon enough, his pants were off. Your mouth watered at the sight of the visible tent in his boxers and whilst you really couldn’t wait to have him in your mouth and hear more of his whimpers and moans, you wanted to spend a bit more time on teasing him.

With your eyes locked on his, your nails gently scratched the insides of his thighs, causing Mason to shiver. “Don’t tease, please.”

“But you look so good like this, Mase.”, you pouted, before placing your lips on his skin and making your way higher up. His thighs tensed under your touch, causing naughty thoughts to run through your mind, but right now it was about him, not you.

“What do you want me to do, hm?” You gently bit the skin right where his boxers ended, pulling a small hiss from Mason. “What is it you want, Masey?”

“I…I want you to- Fuck!”, he groaned when you started to palm him over his boxers. With his head falling to the back of the sofa, he had to take a few deep breaths to calm down, but your fingers squeezing his length made it difficult to think. “I want you to…to…”

Mason had never been in the position where he had to voice what he so desperately wanted. Quite the opposite, as until today he’d always been the one being in control and asking that question and now that the roles were reserved, he suddenly got very shy.

With reddened cheeks, he dropped his eyes to his tummy, wishing he could be more confident, but you were hot, currently between his thighs and this whole thing started to make him incredibly nervous.

“Mase.”, you whispered, reaching out to grab his chin and tilt his head up. “We can stop whenever you want to.”

“No, I…I don’t want to stop. Sorry, I just got a bit overwhelmed.”, he confessed. Gently cupping your hand in his lap that had stopped palming him the moment you’d realised something was wrong, he moved it for you, encouraging you to keep going. “Please keep going.”

“Okay.”, you breathed as you applied a little more pressure on his restrained cock, eyes never leaving his and only when you saw the clouded expression coming back, did you lean down to press kisses all over his length.

Mason’s breath hitched in the back of his throat the moment your teeth grazed his fabric-covered dick, and you couldn’t hide your proud grin. He was moaning like this because of you, and you couldn’t wait to make him feel even better.

You hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and once Mason got the hint, he lifted his hips again to allow you pulling the fabric down his legs, causing his hard dick to slap against his tummy. Palming him before had given you a good hint at what you were working with but now that he was fully exposed, you realised that he was bigger than you’d expected.

He felt hot and heavy in your hand as you grabbed him and when you gave him a few gentle pumps, Mason’s head dropped back onto the sofa with a deep sigh. His hips bucked up almost immediately as it had been a while ever since he’d been touched like this and when your thumb brushed through his slit to spread his pre-cum, he cursed loudly.

“Oh my god.” His heart was thundering in his chest, and he could already feel the tingling at the base of his spine. “Don’t tease, y/n. I…It feels so good already.”

Your cheeks heated up slightly at the way a very few of your touches had such an effect on him. He looked so insanely hot. His lips were slightly parted, his chest heaving and abs contracting from the way you were stroking him.

“Holy shit!” Mason’s eyes shot open the second he felt you sucking his tip. His stomach tightened at the warm feeling of your lips wrapped around his dick and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to avoid cumming on the spot. “Fuck, y/n. What the hell.”

“Sorry.”, you grinned as you’d pulled away, knowing fully well what you’d done with surprising him like that. “Just really want to suck your dick, you know?”

“I nearly came.”, he breathed as he threaded his fingers through your hair, subconsciously letting you know you were okay to continue. “A little warning would’ve been nice.”

“Well, where’s the fun in that, Masey?”, you smiled before kissing the tip of his dick and taking him back in your mouth. Bobbing up and down, you took as much of him as possible, whilst working the rest with your hand. You’d set a slow pace, knowing that the faster you went the sooner the fun would be over, and you really wanted this to last.

Who knew if you’d ever get another chance of having him like this.

The warmth surrounding his length combined with your tongue massaging the vein on the underside had Mason tightening his fingers in your hair. Breathy moans and whimpers were falling from his lips, spurring you on, but the longer you kept going, the more difficult it became for him to hold back from reaching his high and soon enough, he pulled you off his dick.

“You’re way too good at that.”, he panted with his hands framing your face. Gently, he brushed his thumbs over the soft skin right beneath your wild eyes. “Come back up here.”

Mason helped you back up on your feet and pulled you into his lap, hands immediately settling on your waist beneath your shirt, stoking up and down your sides as he leaned in to kiss you again. Softly this time, less rushed and hungry than before, but still passionate and as if he’d been waiting for this moment forever.

You sighed against his lips as you felt his big hands cupping your boobs, thumbs brushing over your perky nipples poking through the thin lacey material of your bra and it wasn’t long until Mason pulled your bra down enough for your boobs to spill over.

“Take your shirt off.”, he ordered quietly whilst his hands kneaded away on your boobs. “I want to see more of you, y/n.”

You obeyed quickly and pulled your shirt over your head and whilst you expected Mason’s gaze to drop, it never did. His hands spanned the ribs right beneath your chest, but his eyes stayed locked on yours.

“You’re so incredibly beautiful, y/n.”, he whispered and the honesty in the tone of his voice had you blushing. “You’re the most beautiful and incredible woman I’ve ever met.”

His hands stroked up and down your sides and all over your tummy, leaving goosebumps in their wake and causing small sighs to fall from your lips. It had been a while since someone had touched you like this, had taken their time to caress you in a non-sexual way.

The men you’d been with had only ever been interested in one thing and whilst tonight was going to end in the same way, Mason still took his time to worship you and your body, and it made you fall for him even more.

He held the entirety of your heart and from tonight on also the entirety of your body. He hadn’t done much so far, but you were sure once he had, he would’ve ruined sex for you as no one else would ever come close to this.

You gasped the moment his lips enclosed around your nipple. Your hands flew to the back of his head, fingers gently pulling on the soft strands of hair as his teeth grazed your sensitive skin. Mason skilfully unclasped your bra before flinging it across the room to get it out of the way, making you question for a moment how often he’d done that already, but when his lips sucked your nipple and his fingers ran up and down your spine, your thoughts were back on him and how good he made you feel.

It wasn’t long before he asked you to take off your pants and as you stood there right in front of him in only your lacey panties, he couldn’t help himself. Grabbing your waist, he pulled you back in between his tights, hands stroking up and down your tummy, fingers grazing your boobs until they eventually hooked into the waistband of your panties.

“You’re so so beautiful y/n. I want you to always remember that.”, he whispered with his lips pressing against the skin of your tummy. “You’re so perfect, so soft and I don’t deserve you at all, but I’m so glad I get to see you like this.”

His lips trailed up and down your body until they reached a spot Mason found perfect for the purple bruise, he’d wanted to leave on your body ever since you’d taken off your shirt. Pulling a gasp from your lips, he sucked a hickey into your soft skin, soothing the sting with his tongue and once he was done, he looked up at you with a proud smile grazing his lips.

“These come off now.”, he mumbled, pulling your panties down your legs before making you straddle his lap again. You felt a bit insecure, being fully naked, with your legs on either side of his, now, but Mason was quick in picking up on that. “You’re so hot, I can’t believe I get to have you like this.”

“Mase.” His name fell from your lips in a hoarse moan the moment you felt his fingers running through your wet folds. Giving him head had turned you on more than you’d thought and with his fingers between your legs now, you were practically dripping for him.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, y/n.”, Mason groaned. “All for me? Hm?”

He didn’t give you the chance to answer though as his lips were on yours in an instant. The kiss was hot and heavy, tongue immediately invading your mouth and toying with yours, whilst his fingers worked away between your legs. With his middle finger, he continued to stroke through your folds, making the base of your spine tingle, but when his thumb started to draw precise circles on your clit, your body slumped forward slightly as a deep moan got lost in his mouth.

Mason listened intently to the sounds you made, carefully figuring out what you liked and what brought you closer to the edge and once he was fully satisfied with how ready you were, he pushed his finger in.

“Holy shit.”, you cursed, pulling away from his lips momentarily to catch your breath, but with his finger curling deep inside of you, it was more than difficult. He touched all the right places with precision, causing you to see stars for a second. “Mase that’s…fuck..that’s so good.”

“Yeah?”, he breathed proudly, attaching his lips back to your nipple whilst gazing up at your face that contorted in pleasure. His dick twitched at your breathy moans and whimpers and whilst at this point, he couldn’t wait to feel everything of you, he desperately wanted to feel you falling apart on his fingers first.

“You’re close baby? Hm?” When he dipped another finger into your wet heat, he pulled another deep moan from you and in an attempt to push you closer to the edge, he curled his fingers even further against that one spot and pressed his thumb into your clit.

“Gonna be my good girl and cum on my fingers?”

Mason didn’t miss the way your walls squeezed around his fingers that little bit more when he called you his good girl and he made a mental note.

“Yes, Mase.”, you whined. “Please keep going, Mase. I’m so close, I’m-fuck.” With a few more curses and his name continuously falling from your lips, you came around his fingers. White hot liquid shooting through your veins, caused your body to shudder before you eventually collapsed into his chest, head falling into the crook of his neck as you tried to catch your breath, whilst Mason rode you through your high.

Your heart was thundering in your chest, as he gradually slowed the movements of his fingers until he eventually pulled them out completely. You sighed into his neck, not noticing how he smiled at the taste of you as he licked his fingers clean and when Mason wrapped his arms around your body, one hand running up and down your spine in an attempt to calm you, you snuggled further into his chest.

It took you a while to come back to your senses, but when you pulled back and his eyes were on yours, his cheeks as flushed as yours, you leaned in and kissed him softly.

“That was incredible.”, you sighed against his lips and Mason nodded. “But we still have to sort this out, hm?”

Mason shuddered when your hand wrapped around his painfully hard dick. Watching you cum had made him even harder and he couldn’t wait to have you and watch you fall apart on his cock, but he knew that the previous orgasm had wrecked you and that you might need a moment.

“We don’t have to, y/n.”, he mumbled, groaning quietly when you began to stroke him gently. “At least not immediately. We can take a moment in case you need ti-“

“I want you, Mase. I promise I’m okay. I want you.”

“Let’s take it slow, though. Okay?”, he whispered against your lips, before pulling you in for another kiss. “I want this to last, y/n.”

“Okay.”, you smiled.

With one hand on his shoulder, you pushed yourself up onto your knees and lined his dick up with your entrance, but before you could sink down, Mason’s hands on your waist stopped you.

“Look at me please?”, he asked with bright red cheeks. He felt a little stupid for it, but as this might be the only time he got to have you like this, he desperately wanted you to look at him, whilst taking him for the first time.

And with your eyes locked on his, you sank down his length. The both of you moaned at the feeling of one another, his hands squeezing your hips, whilst your fingers dug into his broad shoulders as you took all of him carefully.

His size stretched you deliciously and the slight burning only added to the pleasure running through your veins. He was so big, you could feel him in your tummy once you were fully seated and you actually needed a moment to adjust.

“God, you’re so tight.”, Mason moaned as he dropped his forehead to your chest, trying to think of the unsexiest thing he knew to avoid ending it right then and there. “Squeezing me so tightly, baby. Feels so good.”

You could feel him pulsating inside of you and the way he was panting told you everything you needed to know. He felt as incredible as you.

Once you were both ready to continue, you rolled your hips against his. Gently and carefully at first, but it wasn’t long before you were bouncing up and down in his lap. His hands sat firmly on your hips, guiding your movements and making sure you were both enjoying it, whilst you’d planted yours on his shoulders.

“You feel so good, Mase.”, you whined as he continuously hit that one spot deep inside of you. “You’re so deep.”

“Yeah?”, he panted, a proud grin on his lips. “Can feel me all the way up your tummy, baby?”

Mason moved one of his hands to your stomach, fingers caressing your skin until he flattened his hand and pressed down right when his hips snapped up, causing you to whimper loudly as the delicious ecstasy running through your veins only increased tenfold.

“You’re such a good girl, baby. Taking me so well. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Mase.”, you whimpered, squeezing tightly around his dick at the same time. Your high was approaching pathetically quickly because of the way he knew how to hit all of your right spots. “Fuck, you’re so good.”

It wasn’t long until you were nearly there, and the moment Mason attached his thumb to your clit and rubbed it in quick circles, you fell apart on top of him, curse words and his name falling from your lips repeatedly.

Your thighs shook and your fingers squeezed his shoulders so tightly, you were afraid you were hurting him, but with the ecstasy shooting through you as he continued to snap his hips into yours, multiplying your pleasure, you couldn’t really care about that.

“Where…where do you want-“

“Inside of me, Mase.”, you panted. “It’s…it’s safe, I…I promise.”

His fingers dug into your skin and his head fell back, as his hips pushed up one last time before he spilled into your tight heat. “Fuck, fuck, oh my- fuck.”, he cursed, rolling his eyes at the way you gently moved your hips against his to help him ride out his high. “Oh my god, y/n.”

Once you’d both come down from your highs and had caught your breaths, Mason wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you flush into his body, head finding a home on your chest where he could listen to your racing heartbeat.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither of you cared enough to pull away. Instead, you threaded your fingers through his soft hair and massaged his scalp, causing Mason to hum in content, whilst his hands caressed your back in soothing motions.

It was the most content you’d felt in forever.

Weeks after this incident, you were back up in Manchester. You and Mason had slept together another handful of times and whilst deep down you both knew it was stupid, given your obvious feelings for one another, you’d agreed to stay best friends and just enjoy the sexual part with each other as well. Friends with benefits. Nothing more.

You tried to convince yourself that it was enough as you got to have him in the way you wanted him every once in a while, but you’d noticed rather quickly, that it was everything but enough for you.

You wanted to be able to kiss him and hold his hand whenever you felt like it. You wanted the public to know that he was taken and that it was you who made him happy. You wanted all those women to stop looking at him as if he was still available.

Women like Tabitha right now. She was hanging off of Mason’s arm, flirting with him shamelessly, whilst you were right next to them.

It was the international break and since Mason hadn’t been called up for England, he’d asked you to take the week off and come up to Manchester to spend some time with him. Going to the bar hadn’t been one of the things you’d imagined you’d be doing, but when Mason had admitted that he wanted you to meet some of his friends, you’d eventually agreed.

Your idea of the evening hadn’t included several women ogling him though and the problem was that the longer your friends with benefits thing was going on, the more jealous you got. Before, you’d never had the right to be jealous at all and whilst now you still hadn’t, the fact you got to kiss him and have him between the sheets, whilst not being allowed to be his outside of your flat or his house, made it even worse.

You were in love with him and a tiny part of you knew he felt the same for you, but he’d never made it that obvious. For all you knew, it could be him using you for sex without any other intentions.

“So, are you going to take me home then?”, Tabitha chirped as she batted her eyelashes at him. Her hand was trailing up and down his arm and whilst you’d noticed how Mason had moved away from her every time she‘d touched him, she apparently hadn’t. Or she simply didn’t care.

“You do realise I’m right here, don’t you?” The words had left your mouth faster than your brain had processed your thoughts and from the way Mason looked at you, he was as surprised as you were. “He could be taken for all you know.”

“Oh honey, no offense, yeah? But he could be with anyone, so why would he go for you? I’m the real option here.” She sent you a fake smile, the disgust in her eyes visible and whilst it did scratch your ego for a moment and had you wondering if Mason thought the same, you were quick in smiling back at her.

Mason was about to step in as he refused having her speaking to you like that, but before he even could, you surprised him again.

“Sorry to pop the bubble, honey, but I know what he tastes like.”

Stunned silence fell over the three of you as the loud music faded into some sort of background noise. Tabitha simply scoffed before turning around and looking for someone else to pay for her drinks and take her home, but Mason didn’t even notice. He was too busy staring at you and trying to calm down his racing heart.

He carefully sneaked his arm around your waist and squeezed you a little. The fact you’d just subtly claimed him and showed a bit of jealousy for the first time, had left him speechless, but at the same time it made him incredibly happy.

“We need to talk to Ben, don’t we?”

After giving it a moment, you nodded. “Yeah, I think we do.”, you whispered before leaning your head against his shoulder. Mason pulled you a little more into his side, happy he could finally hold you like this in public and when he dropped a kiss to the top of your head and you snuggled more into his chest, his heart skipped a beat.

That night you stayed over at his. You shared the bed, but not in a way you normally did. Instead of being tangled in between the sheets, you were cuddled up, shared soft and meaningful kisses and lingering touches. Very little words were exchanged as you traced the hundreds of freckles on his cheeks, ran your fingers through his hair and all over his neck.

Mason hummed softly, squeezing your waist and caressing the warm skin of your tummy until you fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Mason drove the two of you down to London.

Last night hadn't changed everything, no, this change had already started weeks ago, but the moment in the club had made you realise that you were just fooling yourselves with beating around the bush and it was time to wake up and act like adults. And that meant making a decision. The decision to be honest with yourselves – and Ben.

“Hey, don’t be nervous. He’s your brother, he’ll be okay.”, Mason tried to reassure you gently, but being honest with himself, he was bricking it too. He had no idea how Ben would react as the topic of you and him had never once come up and he doubted Ben suspected anything.

“What if he’ll just shout at us and be super mad? Mase, I’m his little sister and I know how protective he is. I don’t want you two to fight or fall out because of me. You’re best friends.”

Mason squeezed your hand gently, his thumb running over the back of it in calming motions. “We won’t fall out, y/n. Please don’t worry about that. Worst case scenario is he’ll be mad for a couple of days, maybe weeks and then he’ll be back to normal. Okay?”

“Okay.”, you smiled, bringing your joined hands up to kiss his in appreciation.

The journey, which normally felt so terribly long, seemed to have taken only a few seconds today and when Mason stopped his car in front of Ben’s house you weren’t sure you were ready to face him.

“Mase, I don’t think I can do this. What if he’s gonna hate me or worse you? I can’t just go in there and talk to him and-“

Mason gently shut you up with his lips against yours and you almost immediately relaxed into him. Your heart slowed down and when he pulled away and stroked your cheek with his thumb, you smiled at him.

“Thank you.”, you mumbled with blushed cheeks.

“Okay to go in?”

“Yeah.”, you smiled. “Let’s face it.”

With a final kiss you eventually got out of the car and made your way up Ben’s driveway. Your heart was beating out of your chest when you knocked on your brother’s door and you were afraid your knees would give way any second. Maybe Ben wasn’t even home? That way you could avo-

“Oh hi.”, Ben smiled, but the confusion was visible on his features. He definitely hadn’t expected either of you and especially not the two of you together and when he asked you to come in with an unreadable expression on his face, your stomach dropped.

You were terrified.

And as if Mason could read you like an open book, he placed his hand on the small of your back, offering you the most support he could without drawing too much attention to it. Ben flopped down on his sofa, watching you curiously as you stood there, nervously fiddling with the hem of your hoodie.

“It’s erm…Ben there’s a reason why we came here so unexpectedly and it’s erm…a little difficult and I don’t really know how to explain it, I just…it’s complicated and I didn’t mean to…but, well…erm…”, you stumbled over your words. The whole speech you’d memorised during the drive down to London had disappeared, leaving you with an empty head and bright red cheeks.

Mason noticed how you struggled. He knew you wanted to tell Ben yourself, but it seemed as if you needed a bit more support from him to go through with what you’d wanted to say, so he removed his hand from the small of your back and instead grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers through yours and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

With one last deep breath, you eventually just blurted it out: “We’re…erm…we’re together.”

You could feel Mason’s surprised gaze on you the second the words had left your mouth, and you knew exactly why. This thing between the two of you? You were yet to put a label on it. Surely, you wanted to give it a go and start dating, but neither of you had ever even mentioned the word relationship. And now you’d simply gone and told your brother you were in a committed relationship.

But as Ben was already up on his feet, Mason simply went with it.

“I would love to say I’m surprised, but truth be told, I’m not.”, Ben laughed as he pulled you into a hug. “I‘ve been suspecting it for months now, to be honest.”

“Months?”, Mason asked incredulously. You hadn’t even been sleeping together for months, let alone talked about liking one another for that long.

“You two are like peas in a pod, never without the other and recently it became more and more obvious. I always knew you liked each other, but I didn't want to interfere.”, Ben explained, causing you and Mason to blush.

The two of you shared an incredulous look, unable to believe that what you’d made out to be such a big deal, had turned out to be the easiest thing in the world.

“So you’re…you’re not mad?”

“Mad? y/n, are you insane?”, Ben laughed. “You two are among the most important people in my life, you are family and I want both of you to be happy.”

He pulled away from the hug as his expression became serious for a moment. “y/n, you’re my little sister and all I’ve ever wanted for you was someone who treats you the way you deserve, someone who I can trust to take care of you and when there’s one person who would drop everything for you, then it’s Mase. He’s done it perfectly as your best friend and I can only imagine how much more protective he’ll be now.”

Mason who’d seen the tears welling up in your eyes reached out and with the gentlest of touches wiped a stray one from your cheek, basically confirming what Ben had just said. He pulled you into his side and kissed your temple before focussing back on his best friend.

“Thanks, Ben.”, he smiled. “I promise I’ll take care of her. She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“I know, mate.”, Ben nodded. “But I’m also happy for you because after all the shit you’ve been through those last years, you deserve someone who’s by your side unconditionally and who likes you for being you and not for your money or your status or whatever. You deserve someone who has your back all the time, but especially when you’re not there to defend yourself. She’s precious and just like you’d drop everything for her, she’d do the same for you. You both deserve each other, so no, y/n, I’m not mad. I’m incredibly happy.”

You couldn’t believe anything of what had just happened. Your fear that Ben would explode and literally shoot you to the moon didn’t come true. Instead, he was supportive and happy and had basically rooted for you and Mason to get together.

You were lost for words, unsure what you should say other than thank you, but thankfully Ben’s phone ended the situation rather quickly and your brother left you and Mason alone to take that phone call in the kitchen.

“So, we’re together now?”, Mason asked with a cheeky grind once he’d turned you in his arms so he could look you in the eyes.

He watched how an adorable blush painted your cheeks rosy and how you shyly dropped your gaze to his chest, but he was quick in tilting your head back up.

“I erm…I just thought…I don’t know, I just didn’t know what to say and…it’s just happened. Sorry.”, you stammered, unable to explain why you’d stated you were together when really you weren’t or at least hadn’t talked about that yet, but Mason simply laughed.

“So, you’re my girl then? Officially?”

“If that’s what you want?”

“y/n.”, Mason sighed. “I don’t need a talking stage or seven dates to figure out if I want you in that sense because I already know. It’s early days, but at the same time it’s not because we’ve spent so much time together already and I know that I’m in love with you. I’d love to be home to you in the way you’re home to me.”

“You are home to me, Mase.”, you whispered with tears burning behind your eyes. It felt as if you’d finally found your forever, your home, your person. The one man you wanted to spend your whole life with. “I’m in love with you too.”

With his arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders, Mason dipped down and pressed his lips to yours in a soft, loving kiss.

Later that night, with you sleeping soundly in his arms, Mason couldn’t help but feel as if he was about to explode from all the happiness he felt and although he hadn’t actually talked it through with you, he really wanted to world to know he’d managed to land the best girl in the world.

__________

I genuinely hope you enjoyed reading this. You would make my day if you left a little feedback so I can see what you liked and what I can improve on 🩷

#mason mount #mason mount imagine #mason mount x reader #mason mount fanfic #football imagine #manchester united #football fanfic #manchester united imagine #mason mount smut #mason mount fluff #mason mount angst #fanfiction #smut #fluff #angst

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cheriecoke · 1 year ago

Note

NB, idea I thought you might like—you know those memes/stories of boyfriends who get drunk and tell their girlfriend something like, “You’re pretty but I have a girlfriend,” or whatever?

Nanami. Very red-faced and very seriously.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ THE BOYFRIEND TRAP — nanami kento

OMG THIS IS SO CUTE !! it's so funny you mention it bc i've been thinking about writing something like this for a while now hehe. this gave me a perfect excuse to write something sweet bc i've been feeling so emotional about him

it was satoru's idea to go out drinking. ironic, really, considering he was the one that had a soda in front of him, no more than half-empty, a refill after the first sickeningly sweet one.

across the restaurant, at the bar, gojo was talking with nanami, nodding seriously with a small grin as kento rambled on about something that he would probably regret spilling to the white-haired man in the morning. it was easy to get kento to talk with some alcohol in him; he normally kept things locked up tight, but once you got a drunk kento going, it was, truly, hard to stop him.

"you should get him home," shoko said, smiling from where her hands were set in her hands. "i'm afraid of what satoru is over there asking."

it was then that you noticed the phone in gojo's hands, not so subtly hidden behind the edge of the table, filming as kento waved his hands around in the air. nanami wasn't normally such a lightweight—whatever satoru had ordered him must have packed a heavy punch.

you sighed. "kento is going to kill him tomorrow." with that, you said goodbye to shoko and stood from the table, heading over to the two men conversing at the bar.

as you approached, satoru waved gleefully, not even trying to hide the fact that he was filming the entire scene.

"are you ready, kento?" you asked, grabbing your phone from your bag to check the time; it was later than you thought. "we should probably leave or we'll miss the last train."

"you're leaving? it's still so early," satoru whined, a dramatic pout on his lips. "i can just call ijichi-"

"you bother that man enough." you rolled your eyes. not to mention, kento would probably be mortified if his younger colleague saw him in such a state. "come on, ken-" you placed a hand on his forearm, but it was only there for a moment before nanami, politely, lifted it off his arm and gave it back to you.

"i'm sorry," he said, his expression one of complete seriousness, despite his reddened face. "i can't go with you."

you glanced over at satoru, who covered his mouth, trying not to choke on his laughter. "why not?" you asked kento, your eyebrows pulling together.

nanami stood straighter, his eyes hazy as he regarded you apologetically. his tie was loosened, and the top button of his shirt was undone, cooling his heated skin. "you're pretty," he said, slurring the words a bit. "but i have a girlfriend."

satoru's laughter escaped in loud cackles as he held the phone up higher, shoving it into nanami's face.

you blinked up at kento, a small smile pulling onto your lips. "you do, huh? you don't think i'm prettier than your girlfriend?"

he frowned. "no. of course not." kento's hair had come undone, two blonde strands falling over his forehead as he sifted through his pocket, pulling out his phone. he showed you the lockscreen; a photo of you smiling widely beside him as he kissed you on the cheek. "see how cute she is? she's beautiful."

you laughed, your cheeks warm as you took the phone from his hands. "she sure looks an awful lot like me, kento." giving the phone back to him, you showed him your own lock screen, another photo of the same day; this one was just of kento smiling softly at the camera, the orange sunset glowing against his skin.

he stared at the photo for a moment, studying it, as if unsure why you had a picture of him. then, his face cleared. "oh," kento breathed, looking back at you and then the photo, a realization erupting behind his eyes. "that's why you're so pretty."

you smiled, and tugged his hand to pull him away from the barstool. "you are very pretty too, kento," you said, and his cheeks grew redder, his smile lopsided from all the alcohol. "i'm glad i won't have to drag you out of here like a toddler." though you exhaled a sigh, it was more amused than anything.

waving goodbye to satoru, you led kento out of the restaurant, his arms stringing around your waist as he clung to you. he kissed your cheek, your temple, and you laughed breathlessly, pretending to be exasperated.

"i love you," he said, squeezing you tight. "you're my favorite person in the entire world." the letters were drawn out, the syllables meshing together as he stumbled onto his feet. you were certain he would've fallen onto the pavement, had it not been for the tight grip on your body.

he repeated the words again, i love you, i love you, like he couldn't get enough of the taste of them on his tongue.

the feeling of him around you was warm, and you leaned back into his chest, just as in love with him as he was with you. though, you couldn't help but mess around with him a little more. teasing him was, perhaps, the one hobby you shared with gojo.

"you love me that much?" you asked, but you still kissed him softly, grinning against his flushed lips. "two minutes ago you didn't even remember who i was."

he hummed, pressing a kiss to your top of your head, stalling you in the middle of the sidewalk. he dragged you close, staring at you with hearts in his eyes. "'m sorry, sweetheart," kento said, running a hand through your hair. "think i drank too much."

you laughed, lacing your fingers with his own. "maybe just a little."

#THANK YOU FOR SENDING ME THIS OMG #I wuv him so so much #this is so sappy and sweet #& i can't help but make gojo reader's bff in everything i write #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#kento 💋 ⋆ ˚｡⋆#nanami fluff #nanami x fem!reader #kento nanami x reader #໒꒱ rylie's angels #xoxo rylie 💌 ⋆ ˚｡⋆

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giveafike · 3 months ago

Note

I love Game, Set, Match! If you ever continue it, since the last time y/n was struggling with her game and Ben helped her out, maybe this time we can have Ben struggling and y/n helping him out

Combining this with another prompt for part 3 of game, set match - another anon said: I dont need u to make game, set, match a whole fan fic, but i would love to see a part 3 with them as mixed doubles partners in like the us open or something!! part 2 was amazing, so exited to see your next work regardless of the plot<3

(here if you haven't read part 2 + here for part 1)

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TLDR: Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton couple meeting up after some time for an Opens Tournament after spending time away. They're set to play mixed doubles, Ben's got issues, we're cosplaying bob the builder the way we can fix this!

Word count + info: 6.3k! A bit shorter than the other two, but I promise it's more intimate! Dialogue (lots of flirting and teasing). Mentions of Matteo Berrettini & Ajla Tomljanović.

Character Inspo: Wbk by now: cheeky n playful MC - yk just... fun! I didn't write any specifications, but in my head I was envisioning Tyla so! But put whoever you want to cast ;). She's fallen hard in love here tho

Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW, this is sooo cute. There is a lot of suggestive content here 😭 but nothing NSFW, teasing, playful relationship, lwky submissive Ben, hope I make u guys giggle!

Azzie Notes ✚: HI!! Last post for a bit (I'm still writing other things! Just taking a bit longer than expected - do send more reqs tho, I'm running low!) I LOVEEE writing Game, Set, Match - I'm so proud of this baby!

Do send in blurb reqs, I can push em out quicker than these longer stories. In saying that, I do have a couple in the works rn who knows? Maybe we'll have a new baby project on our hands.

Also, for anon asks + messages that aren't directly fanfics, follow #azzie asks for stuff bc I feel bad hoarding up space on the main tags for just anon convos. Should I do more of that? Do we want me to talk? Send qs and stuff if you do, otherwise I'll carry on w the usual fanfics and AUs.

I'd love to write a fanfic (SFW or NSFW) w a name and character description, like I could do SOOO much more, someone pls req, so I can storyboard and draft up stuff!!!

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Game, Set, Match (Part 3) - B.T.S

It had been weeks since you’d seen Ben.

With the WTA and ATP tours in full swing, your schedules pulled you in opposite directions, placing you both in different cities and on different courts. Your phones had been lifelines, but they only gave you fleeting sporadic late-night texts, quick phone calls, and longing video chats to keep you in contact.

But now, the separation was over, and the moment you stepped off the plane, a familiar rush of excitement bubbled up inside you, your heart raced, already knowing Ben was somewhere waiting for you.

You pushed through the terminal tunnel-visioned and suddenly, you saw him. Even in a crowded airport, Ben stood out. Tall, with his unmistakable athletic build, the brim of his hat tilted low, his lips were bitten as he scanned the crowd, his eyes locked on you the second he saw you. The world around you blurred, and Ben made his way toward you with long, determined strides.

Before you could even fully register the relief washing over you, his arms were around you, pulling you into his chest. His familiar scent filled your senses, instantly grounding you. Your arms were thrown over his neck, your face tucked into his neck as you held him tight, wondering how you had managed to last this long without his comforting touch.

“I missed you so damn much, Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. One hand ran through your hair, the other smoothing your back.

You sighed into him, your hands rubbing his back, curling into the fabric of his shirt as you pressed yourself closer. “I missed you so much more”.

Ben didn’t waste any time. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both soft and intense like he was making up for every missed kiss over the last few weeks. His hand slid up your sides, slipping under your hoodie to rest against your bare skin. His touch sent a wave of warmth through you, and you shivered slightly from how badly you had missed the feel of him.

“You have no idea how hard it’s been without you,” he breathed against your lips, his thumb stroking along the small of your back as he kissed the corner of your mouth and then down the line of your jaw.

You smiled, but your voice came out softer than you intended, already melting against him. “I think I have an idea. I was struggling too.” Your eyes fluttered open and shut with each kiss he planted, your gaze roaming over his face, boring into the kindness in his sweet eyes. You reached up to peck his cheek in slow, lasting kisses.

Ben pulled back chuckling, just enough to look at you, his thumb coming up to brush over your cheek as he drank you in, like he needed to commit every detail of your face to memory. “I’m not letting you out of my sight now. I need you close, with me, all the time,” he whispered, his eyes big and soft with affection. “Not for a second.”

His intensity sent a wave of warmth through your chest, but you still managed a smirk, raising an eyebrow. He looked like a little kid, never wanting to let you go. “Not even for a second, huh? Okay, big guy.”

Ben grinned, his hand slipping back under your hoodie, fingers tracing patterns on your skin as he pulled you in for another kiss, one that promised more than just a reunion.

“We still need to get to the hotel,” you laughed breathlessly, playfully hitting his chest.

“Hotel’s first,” he said with a mischievous grin, dipping his head to brush his lips over your ear. “But after that…” He nipped lightly at your earlobe, sending shivers down your spine. His hands crept higher under your hoodie, grazing the edge of your sports bra. “I’ve got some plans for us once you settle in.”

You laughed, squealing, swatting at him playfully. “Benjamin Shelton! Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“I don’t think I can,” he murmured with a smirk, his lips barely brushing yours as he leaned in. “Not when you’re finally here.”

With a roll of your eyes, you pushed him away, heat rising in your cheeks. As you wheeled your bag toward the exit, Ben caught up, a boyish, gummy smile tugging at his lips as he stole the handle from your hands. His arm slipped around your waist, resting a little lower on your hip, a teasing glint in his eyes that promised he wasn’t quite done yet.

In the taxi, Ben’s clingy neediness only seemed to intensify, and you felt it in the way his hands couldn’t stay still. He pulled you closer, nearly into his lap, making it nearly impossible to sit normally in the seat.

His hands traced delicate patterns on your back, on your sides. His lips hovered near your ear, occasionally brushing against your cheek or neck, you could feel the smirk tugging at his lips, sending tiny shivers down your spine. Every kiss, every touch, felt like a quiet declaration, he missed you, he needed you.

“You seriously have no idea how much I’ve missed you, like, really bad. Like, losing my mind, bad,” Ben whispered, his voice thick with a mix of affection and urgency. His thumb brushed along your ribcage, slow and deliberate, like he was memorising the feel of you all over again.

You couldn’t help but smile, leaning back against him, feeling the warmth of his chest against your back. “Ben, darling, I’m getting an idea, with how handsy you’re being,” you teased, giggling as you glanced up at him. “You’re being so clingy, baby.”

Ben chuckled, not the least bit embarrassed. “Can you blame me?” he murmured, pressing a kiss just below your ear. “I haven’t had you in my arms for weeks. I’ve been dying just to touch you for weeks. My beautiful, gorgeous girl, the woman that I love so much…now all mine in my hands again…”

His voice trailed off while he planted kisses as your breath hitched slightly at his praise, offering him a soft hum as his hands continued their slow exploration, fingertips skimming beneath the hem of your hoodie, teasing the edge of your waistband, roaming back up to toy with your sports bra. “Weeks, huh? You're acting like it’s been years.”

“Might as well have been,” he muttered against your neck, brushing your hair to one side gently, nipping playfully at your skin. “I don’t think I’ve gone this long without touching you since we started dating. I’ve been so desperate to just touch you.”

You giggled softly, your head tilting to the side to give him better access, your fingers resting against his arm. “Maybe I book more WTA tours away if this is the welcome I get.”

Ben’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, and he pulled you even closer, his voice dropping to a low murmur. “Don’t even joke about that.” His lips brushed against your collarbone, his breath hot and deliberate. “You have no idea what you do to me when you’re gone, baby. I’m not letting you go far from me for a long time.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, ownership laced in his words. You turned your head slightly to meet his gaze, your fingers running along the edge of his jaw. You could feel Ben slowly start to get more desperate, his playful feathering kisses turning into something more permanent, sucking and biting softly as if to leave small, subtle marks on your skin.

“Oof, someone's possessive. Guess I’m stuck having to deal with you being all over me then,” you teased, though your voice came out softer, more breathless.

Ben grinned, his eyes deep with affection as he kissed you again, plunging this time, one hand slipping further up your back, underneath your hoodie. “You’re not exactly pushing me away, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes playfully, though you leaned into his touch, a soft sigh escaping your lips. “I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” you murmured, your fingers brushing through his hair. “You’re too tempting.”

The taxi jolted slightly as it hit a bump, and you let out a quiet giggle breaking out of your bubble and swatting at his chest lightly, clearing your throat as you sat up. “Ben, the driver’s right there.”

Ben glanced over at the driver, who was politely staring ahead, before shrugging. “Doesn’t bother me.”

You let out a laugh, pushing lightly at his chest again. “Behave,” you said, though there was no real force behind the command. You were enjoying the attention far too much.

Ben hummed softly, his lips still brushing against your skin, hands roaming even more dangerously as he cupped your breasts under your hoodie. “Can’t help it. You’re here, and I’ve been deprived for too long.”

The playful banter continued all the way to the hotel, his hands wandering and gripping and his lips stealing kisses at every opportunity. By the time you arrived, the air between you was thick with the tension of weeks spent apart, and you could barely wait to get to your room. Ben grabbed your suitcase with one hand, the other arm firmly around your waist, guiding you through the hotel lobby with an almost single-minded focus.

As soon as you were in the elevator, the doors barely closed before Ben had you pressed against the wall, his lips crashing into yours, hands gripping your waist as if he couldn’t bear even an inch of distance between you. Your hands pressed against the wall to soften the sudden push, before snaking up to the nape of his neck.

“Ben,” you breathed between kisses, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “We’re almost there, hold on, babe..!”

“I know,” he whispered, his lips trailing down your neck, his hands sliding lower. “But I can’t wait, baby.”

By the time you reached the room, you were both breathless, your bodies pressed tightly together as you stumbled inside. Ben closed the door behind you, immediately pulling you into his arms again, his hands slipping beneath your hoodie, lifting it slightly as his lips found yours in a kiss that was slow and needy.

You smiled against his lips, finally breaking the kiss to pull back just enough to catch your breath. “You’re insatiable..!” you teased, gasping, though your own hands were wandering, tracing the familiar lines of his strong chest and shoulders.

Ben grinned, his hands slipping down to your hips, pulling you closer. “Only when it comes to my girl.”

You let out a soft laugh, resting your forehead against his as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “You’re sweet.”

His lips brushed against yours again, but this time the kiss was gentler, more tender. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as he pulled you even closer. “I love you so much,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart swelled at the words, and you kissed him softly, letting the moment linger. “I love you too, Ben.”

For a few moments, you just stood there, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world falling away. It was about the quiet comfort of being together again, of knowing that even after weeks apart, nothing between you had changed.

Finally, Ben broke the silence, his voice soft but playful. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

You pulled back slightly to look at him, your fingers brushing through his hair as you smiled. “I was actually going to ask you that. You’ve been here longer than me, did you manage to set up a practice match?”

He smirked, his hands slipping down to your waist again. “I did. We’re playing against Matteo and Ajla.”

Your eyes lit up with excitement, and you raised an eyebrow. “As in Berrettini? Matteo Berrenttini? That’s quite the practice match.”

Ben’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, and you could see the playful glint in his eyes. “Yeah? You sound a little too excited about that.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a smile as you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Well, have you seen him?”

Ben’s eyes squinted, his hands slipping lower as he pulled you flush against him. “Oh, so that’s how it is?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, resting your hands on his chest, teasing him. “I’m just saying... he’s a little distracting.”

Ben raised an eyebrow, his voice low and teasing. “Maybe I should give you something to distract you from him.”

You grinned, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “I think my boyfriend is distraction enough,” you murmured, your lips brushing his in a soft, lingering kiss. “But if you want to make sure I’m focused...”

Ben smirked playfully, his lips capturing yours again, and you let out a soft laugh as he lifted you off the ground, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he lifted your legs around his waist. “I think I can manage that.”

As you pulled back, breathless and grinning, you whispered softly, “You know I’m teasing. I love you, Ben. Everything feels right with you.”

Ben’s expression softened, his hands gently stroking your sides. “I love you too,” he whispered, his voice full of affection. “More than you know. Feels like home with you in my arms.”

You planted a few soft kisses on his face before leaning into his ear, murmuring, "I still think you owe me a distraction though, Ben."

He chuckled, kissing your cheek. "That'll you get, darlin’ " he mumbled against you, bringing you to the bedroom. That night passed by in a blur of moments of pure, genuine love and care, making up for lost time and emotion.

The next morning, the air was cool and crisp, and the sun bright as you arrived at the court. It was a perfect day for tennis the autumn breeze a welcome break from the summer heat you had both endured on the tour. You could hear the hum of early risers in the distance, but out here, it felt like the world had shrunk to just you, Ben, Matteo, and Ajla.

The warm-up with Matteo Berrettini and Ajla Tomljanović had started off with an easy-going energy, but as the sets progressed, the friendly competition turned more intense. You and Ben moved together fluidly on the court, your bodies instinctively syncing as you read each other's movements, making quick glances, wordless nods, and smooth exchanges.

There were moments of effortless coordination with Ben's power serves and your swift returns combined to win quick points. It was no surprise to anyone watching how well you complemented each other, not just as a couple but as doubles players too. But despite your solid partnership, you noticed a subtle flaw in Ben’s play, something that had escaped both his attention and the growing tension in the practice game.

Between points, you caught the way Ben’s jaw clenched when a shot didn’t go as planned, or when a well-placed return from Matteo caught him off-guard, making him shake his head. It wasn’t that he lacked the skill, Ben was as powerful and talented as they came, but there was a rush in his movement, a drive to end points too quick and fast, a desire to out-muscle rather than out-think his opponent. He was pushing too hard, chasing shots aggressively when he didn’t need to, leaving himself out of position for the next exchange.

“Ben,” you called softly during a break between serves, approaching him with a playful smile, but your eyes scanned him thoughtfully.

He tilted his head, his sweaty curls brushing his forehead, and he flashed that bright grin that always made your heart skip a beat. “Yes, babe?”

You glanced over at Matteo and Ajla who were catching their breath on the other side of the court, then back at Ben. “You’re doing great,” you said, giving him a playful nudge, “but you’re leaving yourself open. You’re trying to end the point too fast, darling.”

His smile faltered slightly, the competitive edge still buzzing in his eyes, but there was a flicker of realisation too. “What do you mean?”

You took a step closer, placing a hand on his arm, letting your fingers gently trace down his forearm as if to soothe his tension and take the edge off of your suggestions. “You don’t have to go for the big finish every time,” you said softly, your voice tinged with affection. “Trust me to set you up.”

Ben blinked at you, clearly processing what you were saying. His eyes roamed over your face, then down to the feeling of your hand on his bicep, his expression softening as he began to understand. “You think I’m overdoing it?”

You smiled, leaning up to press a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth, studying his eyes before you answered. “Hmm, a little teensy bit, yeah. Just play it a bit smarter. You know I’ve always got your back.” Your hand slipped down to pat his chest lightly, fingers lingering on his heart.

Ben let out a slow breath, his pride unshaken but his focus shifting. “Got it,” he muttered, a crooked smile spreading across his face. “Leave the setup to you, huh? My girl’s handling business?”

“Exactly,” you teased, giving him a quick wink. “I know what I’m setting up for my man.”

That last part clearly struck something in Ben, the pride swelling in his chest as you called him your man. His grin widened, a gleam in his eyes now, not from the competition but from the quiet confidence you had in him.

“Damn right, I am,” he said, stepping closer, his voice dropping lower so only you could hear. “Guess I’ll have to show you what your man can really do once I’m in.”

You gave him a soft swat on the arm, giggling. “Save it for the court, Benny. Or maybe later, when we’re off it.”

Ben chuckled but pulled you into a quick, possessive kiss, his lips lingering longer than they probably should have, given that you were still mid-match.

“Later then,” he whispered against your mouth, his hands lingering at your hips before he pulled away with a playful gleam in his eye.

“Hey, lovebirds!” Matteo called from across the court, his thick Italian accent laced with amusement. “You two ready, or should we leave you alone?”

Ajla laughed, shaking her head. “Pretty sure we all know how this match ends if they keep that up.”

You shot a playful glare at them, then turned to Ben with a smirk. “Think they’re jealous?”

Ben gave a quick shrug, flashing that cocky grin that drove you wild. “Who wouldn’t be? I mean, look at my beautiful girl.” He winked at you before jogging back into position, and your heart warmed at the ease and pride in his voice when he said it, his girl.

As the next point started, the flow between you and Ben seemed smoother. You both moved like two parts of a well-oiled machine, he focused on power and strategy, and you on finesse and setting him up for those big finishing shots. You watched him settle, taking more time with his positioning, trusting you to create the opportunities for him. And when that perfect moment came, his power unleashed with precision, and you saw the change in his eyes, a new level of control starting to blossom.

Ajla returned a lob shot, and Ben waited, patient, as you volleyed it back, setting him up. The moment the ball left her racket, Ben struck, sending it down the line in a clean, blistering shot that left both Matteo and Ajla flat-footed.

“Vamos!” Ben shouted, his voice full of triumph, his fist clenched, as the ball bounced out of reach. He turned to you with wide, triumphant eyes, rushing over to scoop you up in his arms before you could even blink.

“That’s my man,” you laughed as he spun you around, both of you laughing and riding the high of the win.

Ben pressed a quick kiss to your lips, still holding you in his arms. “Told you we’d make a good team.”

You could hear Matteo clapping slowly in mock defeat behind you, and Ajla was laughing, shaking her head in amusement. “Alright, alright, we’ll give it to you guys this time.”

You beamed at Ben, his arms still tightly around you, your face inches from his. “Always knew you had it in you.”

Ben grinned, his forehead pressing against yours as his voice dropped low. “Only ‘cause I’ve got you by my side.”

You and Ben had barely finished celebrating your win when Matteo and Ajla sauntered over, shaking their heads in defeat but still smiling.

“That was impressive,” Matteo admitted, clapping Ben on the back.

“Though, if you two keep up with the lovefest on the court, you might distract yourselves one of these days.”

Ben smirked, his hand casually resting on your waist as he pulled you closer. “Nah, we’re just that good. Plus, she keeps me in check.” He winked down at you, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his cheeky confidence.

Ajla gave you a knowing smile. “You guys are impossible. But alright, a deal’s a deal. Lunch on us."

You grinned, side-hugging her over the net. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the four of you walked off the court, lighthearted banter filling the air, your mind was still on the way Ben had adjusted his play. He’d listened to you, adapted, and it had paid off. There was no denying the satisfaction that came with seeing him execute your advice perfectly. But you also knew that some things would need a little more fine-tuning and practice, and for that, a private session was definitely in order.

Later on, after lunch with Matteo and Ajla, you found yourself back in the hotel room as the sun set, both of you a little tired but still buzzing with energy from the match and the good company. Ben was sprawled out on the bed, scrolling through his phone, while you sat on the edge, absently bouncing a tennis ball against the wall in a rhythmic thud.

“Hey,” you said after a moment, glancing over at him. “How about we hit the courts again? Just the two of us. I think we could use some more time out there.”

Ben lifted his head, one eyebrow raised, a teasing twinkle already forming on his lips. “Oh? Didn’t get enough today?”

You smiled, looking back at him. “You’re getting better, Ben, but there are a few things we should work on. You were doing great out there with Matteo and Ajla, but I think we could sharpen up your positioning a little more.”

Ben set his phone down, sitting up now, fully intrigued. “Oh? You’re offering to coach me?”

You gave him a playful nudge. “Yeah. I know you want to be the best, and I can help you with that.”

His eyes brightened with interest, and he was up in an instant, hauling himself up off the bed with a grin. “Alright, coach. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

The tennis court was empty when the two of you arrived, the evening air cool and crisp under the soft glow and hum of the stadium lights. Ben took his spot across from you, bouncing lightly on his feet, his signature cocky grin in place as he spun his racket in his hand.

You and Ben had the ball bouncing back and forth in a comfortable rhythm. You enjoyed these quiet moments together, where it was less about winning and more about the two of you syncing up, even if it meant some fine-tuning in his technique.

“Alright, coach,” Ben said with a grin, settling into a more relaxed stance. His playful tone was the same as ever, but there was something softer in his gaze tonight, he was taking you seriously, eager to work, eager to show off for you. “How are we doing this? What’s the game plan to make me even better?”

You leaned back on your heels, arms crossed as you eyed him. “Footwork first. You keep rushing when you don’t need to. Relax into it, be patient, trust yourself and you’ll find your rhythm.”

Ben nodded, his eyes locked on yours as he mimicked your movements. His focus was intense, but this time it was different from how he worked with his dad. Ben had always been a little impatient with Bryan, more concerned with power and quick sets.

But tonight?

Tonight, he was all yours, giving you his full attention, which stirred something more than pride inside of you. As you demonstrated, he followed suit, his footwork and his motion becoming more controlled with each drill. Every time your hand grazed his arm or adjusted his posture, Ben listened obediently, applying your feedback without his usual back-and-forth banter. That focus on your words, the sincere look in his eyes as he perked up to listen, sent sparks through you.

“Better,” you said after a solid rally, a proud smile creeping onto your face. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Ben wiped his brow, a hint of pride in his expression. “Guess you’re a pretty good coach, huh?”

You grinned, shaking your head as you walked past him. “I’ve always been good at keeping you in line.”

The game continued, the ball bouncing between you both, the steady rhythm soothing and familiar. You pushed Ben to focus on positioning, drilling him on staying grounded before committing to a shot.

And then, after another smooth exchange where he hit every cue perfectly, the words slipped out without warning.

“There you go! Good boy.”

It hung in the air for a second, and you froze with a shocked expression on your face, realising what you’d just said. Your cheeks burned up instantly as you glanced at Ben. He had paused too, his face lighting up mischievously with a look that told you he was absolutely not going to let this go.

“Good boy?” he repeated, his voice low and teasing. “Is that how we’re doin’ things now?”

You rolled your eyes, pointing your racket at him trying to remain serious, already feeling your face grow warmer. “Benny, don’t start.”

But Ben wasn’t backing down. He sauntered toward you, his grin spreading wider as he closed the distance between you. “Oh, I’m definitely starting. Honestly? I think I like it when you call me that.”

Your heart quickened as he moved closer, his presence as effortless and warm as it was overwhelming. Ben had always been cheeky, but this? This was something else, and the worst part was you liked it. You liked how easily he fell into his role, how willingly he listened, and how obedient he was when it was you guiding him.

“Ben,” you warned, trying to play it cool even though the heat rising in you was impossible to ignore. “We’re still practising.”

“Oh, I know,” he smiled, his voice dropping an octave, making your pulse race. “But you have to admit, I’ve been followin’ your instructions pretty well. Don’t you think?”

Your breath hitched slightly as he moved even closer, his body nearly pressing against yours, the net being your safe haven keeping your space, his eyes glinting with that familiar, playful intensity. “Maybe I should keep bein’ a good boy, hmm?”

It was that line, delivered with a perfectly raised brow, that sent a surge of heat right through you. You hadn’t meant to say it, it just slipped out, a reaction to how well he was following your guidance, but now you couldn’t take it back. And now Ben was fully leaning into the moment, clearly enjoying how flustered he was making you.

You tried to recover, taking a small step back to regain some distance.

“You’re… getting there,” you cleared your throat, attempting to steer things back to tennis, though the words came out shakier than you intended.

Ben wasn’t having it, though. “Getting there? Come on, coach, I thought I was doing great.” He reached out, his hand brushing lightly against your waist, pulling you back just a little closer. You couldn’t help but suck in a breath, your body betraying the calm front you were trying to keep.

“Am I being good now?” he asked, his voice low, filled with amusement but also something heavier, something deeper. His teasing had shifted slightly, still playful but now layered with affection, and it made your head spin.

You swallowed hard, struggling to keep your composure. “Ben, you-”

“I’m listening,” he cut in smoothly, his lips dangerously close to your ear now, his voice lilting in his drawled-out voice, oozing off his tongue like molasses. “Just like you wanted. Don’t I deserve a lil more praise, hm?”

Your stomach flipped, and you couldn’t help the rush of heat, the buzzing feeling that flooded through you. He was teasing, sure, but he was also right. He had been listening, and the way he responded to your guidance, so open, so eager to improve for you, was doing things to your heart you hadn’t anticipated.

“Okay,” you said quietly, trying to hide the tremor in your voice. “You’re doing real good, Ben.”

Ben smirked, pulling back just enough to catch your eye, and the way he looked at you, both playful and sincere, made you feel completely undone. He raised an eyebrow as he caught your eyes with his, holding your gaze, expecting a bit more.

“You're a good boy,” you added softly, almost as if you were under a spell.

His grin widened, and in that moment, it was clear that you had lost this round. Ben had flipped the dynamic entirely, and though you were supposed to be the one in charge, he was now calling the shots, and it was thrilling.

And in the comfortable quiet of the evening court, with the world fading around you, Ben leaned in and kissed you softly. It wasn’t rushed or heated, just a simple connection, an acknowledgement of the easy rhythm you’d both fallen into.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes sparkled with that same teasing glint.

"Thought you were in charge here, darlin'," he mumbled softly, his twang teasing as he stepped closer, his dark brown eyes gleaming in the dim light of the court. There was something about the way he said it, that lazy confidence mixed with an undercurrent of playfulness, that sent heat straight through you.

You bit your lip, fighting back the urge to give him a sharp retort. But the way he was looking at you, all calm and patient like he had all the time in the world to enjoy how flustered you were, made your pulse quicken, made you squirm under him. The man knew exactly what he was doing.

And then, without another word, Ben leaned in and placed his hand to rest gently at the back of your neck, his fingers slipping through your hair, and you couldn’t help but melt into his touch as you both stared into each other's eyes.

His thumb brushed over your cheek, his lips just barely curving up into a cheeky smile. “Still wanna keep goin', or you ready to call it?”

Your breath hitched, but you managed to keep your cool, meeting his gaze with a sly smile. “You’re getting cocky, Benny."

His grin widened, and his voice dropped, nice and smooth. "Can't help it when you’re lookin’ at me like that."

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him, though the warmth in your cheeks betrayed you. “Fine, we’ll call it. But don’t think this means I’m going easy on you next time.”

"Guess I'll have to look forward to that, then," he said, his voice lingering just enough to make you smile.

As you both gathered your things and left the court, the night air cool against your heated skin, there was a sense of ease between you. He reached over, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked, and even though the teasing had subsided, the intimacy of the moment lingered.

A few days later, the stakes were higher, the atmosphere much more intense. You and Ben had practised with Ajla and Matteo in the lead-up to this match, but the reality of the Open, the weight of it, the pressure, was different.

As you stood side by side with Ben, gazing out at the packed stadium, the noise of the crowd buzzing in your ears, you could feel the energy crackling around you. This wasn’t just any match, this was what you’d been working toward.

The first set was fast-paced and intense, Matteo’s brutal serves and Ajla’s precision giving you little room to breathe. You and Ben barely kept up though while moving in sync, feeding off each other’s energy as you fought to stay in control.

When the set finally ended, narrowly in your favour, you both collapsed onto the bench, your breaths coming hard and fast. Ben leaned forward, elbows on his knees, staring out at the court with that familiar, intense focus with a gel pack in his mouth you’d seen so many times before.

His brown eyes were dark, locked onto the lines of the court like he was reading every inch of it. He wasn’t the playful, adoring Ben right now. This was the side of him you admired most, the one who studied the game like it was an art form, completely absorbed in every detail, every strategy.

The sharp angles of his face were even more pronounced as he heaved, sweat glistening along his jawline as his gaze stayed locked forward. It was that quiet intensity, the way he seemed to block out everything but the game, that made him so magnetic out here. He was in his element, and it was captivating.

You wiped the sweat from your forehead, still catching your breath as you watched him. He didn’t speak at first, keeping that unwavering focus on the court, his breathing steadying. You knew better than to interrupt when he got like this when that competitive side of him came out, Ben was locked in.

But after a moment, you leaned over, your shoulder brushing his, and gave him a soft nudge. “Hey.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and just like that, the tension melted a little. He smiled, soft and small, and you could see a flicker of the playful Ben you knew so well underneath all that intensity.

“You’re playing smart, Ben. Matteo’s a powerhouse, but you’ve been nailing those returns. Keep pushing him wide, make him work for it.”

He exhaled, nodding as your words sank in. "Yeah, you’re right." His voice low and a bit raspy from the heat of the match.

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his hand brush against yours on the bench. “We’ve got this, okay? Just stay in the rhythm. I’m right here with you.”

He turned to look at you fully, and there it was, that gaze, the one that made your heart race every time. Dark brown eyes locked on yours, filled with trust and something deeper. “I know," he said softly, his voice carrying the weight of the moment. "Ain’t no one else I’d rather be out here with.”

Before you could respond, the whistle blew, signalling the start of the second set. Ben stood first, turning to offer you his hand, and you took it without hesitation. There was a strength in his grip that steadied you, and as you walked back onto the court together, you felt that connection between you grow stronger.

The second set was even tougher and rallies longer, each point feeling like a battle. Matteo’s serves were punishing, and Ajla was relentless, but you and Ben had found your groove. He followed your lead, trusting your instincts, and every return, every volley, felt sharper than before.

And when Ben sent a sharp forehand just past Matteo’s reach to seal the match, the roar of the crowd was deafening.

You spun around, immediately finding Ben, and before you could say a word, he was there, lifting you off your feet in a tight hug, spinning you once before setting you down gently. His eyes, still sparkling with that competitive edge, softened as he looked at you, pride radiating from every inch of him.

“You did it!” you squealed, breathless from both the match and the rush of it all.

“We did it, babe” he replied, his accent thicker now, the exhaustion and adrenaline mixing in his voice. His sweet eyes held yours for a beat longer before he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

The crowd’s cheers only seemed to fade as you kissed him back, your hands resting against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. It wasn’t about the victory, not really. It was about everything that had led up to this. The trust, the hard work, the way you two moved together.

When he finally pulled back, his voice was teasing. “Guess that means you’re the gonna be coaching me after all this, huh?”

You laughed, your heart swelling with affection as you pushed at his chest lightly. “Don’t hold onto that just yet, Benny.”

He grinned, that familiar playful glint back in his eyes as he laced his fingers with yours. “Too late for that.”

As you both walked off the court, hand in hand, the crowd still roaring around you, you knew that whatever came next, whether it was another match or another late-night training session, you’d face it together. And that was the real win.

#ben shelton #benshelton #ben shelton x reader #atp tennis

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