#ok so this is my OFFICAL last post

[yume-fanfare]

now. prayer hands for local customs to be nice to me

[lettuce-tv]

grinding my teeth and veins popping out of ny neck. carving blood covered rifts in my plastic table. everything in my life is going fine. there's nothing wrong. I can see the beauty and wonder inherent to life. happiness is possible. I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine.

[trendfag]

ok the REASON i needed a drink is that ok im going to arizona flying into phoenix well i had a layover in kansas city but there was bad weather in kc today so my first flight got delayed like an hour and so i missed my connecting flight and you know i had a really stressful week filling in for my mom like have you ever been an autistic trans girl filling in for an office manager of a dentist office? that shit is stressful!!! AND i met with an advisor at a community college to enroll in some classes on wednesday and NO ONE knew i was even in the process of enrolling in classes except for my therapist…i told my boss who is my moms best friend because she was talking to one of my coworkers about going from working mon tue wed to tue wed thurs…and so i was like wellll i just enrolled in classes for tues thirs…i was kind if implying like “please keep doing mon tue wed because i just enrolled in classes for tues thurs and i want to keep working here” but she said like after being like omg thats so great bc shes my moms best friend and so she cares about me as a person she was like “well dont worry about it you can come in just whenever youre free dont worry about it” which is very nice i do love my boss she is really so great i cannot rave enough about my boss like yes she is my moms best friend but i see her like fighting herself because shes caught in the whole “i need ti charge more because i have a family i need to support” vs “i am in dentistry because i want to help people feel good about their teeth and im very empathetic and i want to just do everything for everyone but also if i do that then i wont be able to send my children to the schools i want them to go to including my son with a learning disability but who loves the school specifically for kids with learning disabilities that i decided would be good for him after seeing how he didnt do well in the school his brother goes to” like you know i love my boss sorry i dont remwbwr what this was all about uhmmmmmmmmm…………ok but anyway i like chose my classes so id still be able to work most of the time theyre open but its fine its whatever also im sure my mom will probably talk her out of it….if im being completely honest i dont remember what this post was originally supposed to be about im drunk off two shots of tequila + a can of redbull sorry…i still have like an hour and a half before i start boarding! im going to eat like a chicken sandwich there is one that has avocado yayayayayayayayay

ok basically i was saying ive been really stresseed all week because i had to answer phones and make calls abf basically be the face of the practice (except all my coworkers are soooooo nice and considerate and think about me it wasnt like THAT bad) but it was still stressful like even watching my mom do her job is stressful sometimes much less doing it MYSELF!?!?!! so i got a drink because of my work and also because i missed my connecting flight so now im drunk…like that feels so stupid to be like yeah im drunk off two shots of tequila plus a redbull red (watermelon flavor it literally didnt cover the tequila at all) i think i might text my friend from college…anyway im here at my gate i still have like two hours before boarding im going to watch drag race lol…i thi k i’ll go to the bathroom first anf maybe get something to eat well i am hungry…i should text my cousins as well

[worm-brainzz]

i keep seeing these things so.

if this post gets to 2k notes im gonna try n stand up for myself

if it gets to 3k notes im gonna try n find a job since my family sucks and keeps stealing my money

if it gets to 5k notes, im gonna ask for a better tailbone relief

if it gets to 7k notes, i'll let you guys choose (IF ITS A HEALTHY SLEEP SCHEDULE I WILL NOT.)

tailbone explanation: so last term last year i was having problems standing up cuz my tailbone was so incredibly sore i couldnt describe it. my dad told me to do stretches thinking it was a muscle, but i knew damn well it wasnt a muscle. my mum took me to the doctors office cuz my dad refused and i ended up needing an xray for it, and when i went back to the doctors office it turned out to be the bone at the very end of my tailbone. so now i need to sit on a special gel pillow and its so uncomfy cuz it raisese and makes me unable to fit in the science lab chairs cuz it takes up so much room and teachers are odd abt it. and i want there to be a way for that to be fixed better (without an operation). so. yea.

doubt im gonna get past the goal but here goes nothing :3

edit: ok fuck. uh. looks like i have to rearrange the order cuz im already starting to do the 2k goal. uh.

[kosher-salt]

Just saw a post that was basically "Hey off of the internet people usually aren't so crazy antisemitic and most of my day to day interactions as a visible Jew are normal, everything is gonna be ok" and I'm making a new post to not derail, but...

I'm super glad, obviously, that this is the case for many of you. But I do think we should be ringing the alarm bells. Because while you enjoy your grocery trips and post office in relative peace (as you ought to), here is a VERY incomplete list of things I have dealt with in the last 11 months.

-assaulted on my way to class, followed, spit on repeatedly (magen David necklace)

-professor took me outside of class and told me I needed to denounce my Judaism (I mentioned in passing my dad's family in an anthropology class)

-same professor refused to accept my final paper for reasons that did not match up with paper, email full of dogwhistles

-same professor told everyone to attend the protests and "teach those zionists to know their place" she is a Black Latina young professor. Yep.

-another professor straight up refused to accept any assignments that mentioned Jewishness (they were assignments about our families). Gave a student who submitted nothing except a picture of a Palestinian flag full marks. Failed me. I am an all As student, btw. Forced to drop.

-the chair of the anthropology department threw my complaints wabout said professors away without due process. His social media is full of blood libel.

-had to miss my finals as I could not physically get to them due to the protests

-followed and harassed in stores

-synagogue was vandalized multiple times

-called a kike while things were thrown at me

-protestors stood outside of my apartment patio with final solution signs

-new apartment, away from campus: friends of roommates harassed me constantly, to the point I could not use common spaces. Roommates told me that's his right because it's his "political view." He didn't even live there.

-new roommate moved in, less than 48 hours before she attempts to stab me, after learning I eat kosher style. "...kosher? kosher?! FUCK YOU" stab stab, etc. Bitch that was my good knife.

-the other roommates tell me to gtfo of the home I'm renting, keeping my rent ("you people can afford to lose money") and destroy a good portion of my belongings while cursing to me random nonsense about Israel. The police took 25 minutes to get there. We live in the middle of the city.

-fun fact: I had never mentioned my political stance to these people and it's not on my face-out social media (very bare bones profiles)

-been disbelieved by everyone I told this to including the police, my school, the leasing company, and my now ex best friend of 7 years

-cursed at in a store when I asked if there was a kosher section

-told nobody likes Jews because we bring down the vibe and have a victim complex. My knuckles are healing just fine after that, btw, thank you for asking! She is not.

I don't know how to request the 7th off from my school without basically incriminating myself with a threat of violence. There is no world where I just sit there when a classmate says "happy October 7th."

Hope this helps.

[kuiinncedes]

not me waking up so early for office hours and the queue isn’t even open bro the instructor not even awake 😭

[mingis-orangejuice]

Asking the L&Ds boys "What are we?" Part 1: Zayne

Summary: MC and her boy have been in a sort of situation-ship but MC wants to know why they haven't officially called her their girlfriend

a/n: This ended up being much longer than I thought so I'm making it into 4 parts (one for each boy) starting with Zayne. you can request who you want me to post next if you want

Genres/Warnings: angst, fluff, kinda slow burn

Word count: 635

Other parts: 2, 3, 4

You’re sitting in his office for your scheduled check-up. The bulk of the check-up was done and since you were his last patient that evening he asked you to wait for him to finish so he could drive you home. While he finished up some final notes on his computer you sat in the chair across from him mindlessly scrolling on social media while you waited. After a few minutes of silence, you hear a small knock on the door of the office.

“Come in” Zayne called as he looked up from his computer, you also turned around to see who it could be. A younger man in a lab coat similar to Zayne’s pokes his head in and starts talking

“Sorry to bother you Dr. Zayne… oh,” he stopped talking when he saw you sitting there looking up from your chair. “I didn’t realize your girlfriend was here, I’ll just ask you tomorrow, sorry again” Your heart skipped a beat at the word girlfriend.

The young doctor was about to leave when Zayne cut him off “It’s ok you’re already here now, you might as well just ask.

“Oh..uhh… ok” the young doctor awkwardly steps closer to Zaynes desk and hands him a few papers “Would you be able to sign these for me, since I’m shadowing you for my class I need you to sign them so I can get my class credit” 

“Oh he must be a student,” you thought

Zayne takes them from him and quickly looks through all of them, signs on the dotted line and promptly hands them back to the student. “You did very well these past few weeks, I was glad to have you as my apprentice. I hope to see you someday as a doctor here at Akso” Zayne’s voice sounded so sincere and sweet that even the student blushed a little.

“Thank you, sir, I’ll try my hardest” the student does a deep bow and quickly leaves the room

After he left Zayne went back to finishing up his work, but instead of going back to your doom scrolling you looked up at Zayne. “Why didn’t you correct him?”

Zayne looks up over his computer screen “Huh? correct him on what?” Zayne questioned

“Just now when that student called me your girlfriend, you didn’t correct him.” you scooted your chair closer to his desk and looked him in the eye trying to read his expression

“Why would I correct him? Was he wrong, are you not my girlfriend?” the feigned ignorance in his voice made you lose your words for a second. Once you regain your composure you stand up and look down at Zayne whose lips have now curled up into a slight smirk “no thats not… well you … uh... you’ve never called me that before” you sit back down and look away after that sudden burst of confidence.

Zayne chuckles lightly. “Naturally, I assumed you already were, since every night we have dinner together, I’m the one you call when you’ve had a rough day, we spend hours on the phone together talking about nothing and you stay at my house so often that you even have your own designated closet space and a toothbrush. ” 

You can still barely look at him “yeah but..”

“You’re right I should have corrected him,” he says with a mischievous grin

“What?!” you jump up from your seat worried that you accidentally messed up what you had with Zayne.

“Because at this point we’re basically married” he stands up, takes your hand and lightly kisses it. “But if you need to hear me say it I will” he looks up at your flustered expression, his smile gets even bigger and he looks you in the eye and says “Alright shall we get going, girlfriend?”

[annievrse]

types of kisses

multiple bsd x reader —ᡣ𐭩 blurb includes: dazai, chuuya, fyodor, ango c/w: suggestive content: chuuya & ango [mdni], fyodor calls reader dorogaya, dazai calls reader bella. a/n: oh em geee fifth post this week??? no ok ngl i'm feeding u before i lock in for my last semester :o surprise!!

DAZAI —ᡣ𐭩 you're so pretty kisses

"don't look."

"can't," dazai says, and you shake your head at the dismissal of your joke. he has a blindfold on, so you'd expect him to be a little suspicious and, by extension, unwilling to participate in your dumb antics.

the setting sun blankets dazai in a warm orange, making his skin glow and his hair the colour of rich chocolate. you're sitting on the floor, facing him, when you fumble with the ribbon as you glance at him. you've always known his beauty despite his distaste for such compliments.

once the baby pink satin is tied, you push onto your knees and waddle over to him.

you bump into him slightly, and he cowers away, hands up in front of his face. "what was that?"

"me, idiot. now be still."

dazai sighs loudly before relaxing, though his shoulders are still near his ears when he feels you pick up a chunk of his hair.

"you're not cutting it off, are you?"

you scoff, tying the hairband that holds the bow around the brown strands. "i would die if you cut your hair."

dazai nods. "good to know."

rolling your eyes and huffing in faux annoyance, you finish tying off the band and lean back to get a better look. you make a sound close to a squeal after you position it and then sit back down. you're basically bouncing with excitement.

"and... open!"

dazai rips the blindfold off with lightning speed, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. "what did you do to me?"

tilting your head, you giggle. "nothing."

dazai looks to the ceiling before standing. he makes a beeline for the bathroom, and when he gets there, he groans.

you cheer when he returns to the living room. "you look so handsome!"

dazai's eyes widen, and his cheeks turn pink, his gaze everywhere but on you. "shut up."

you beckon him over to sit back where he was previously, the light a deeper amber than before. you stare at him; if this were a cartoon, you'd have hearts for eyes. he looks exquisite.

"stop looking at me like that, it's creepy."

"baby, you look so pretty."

dazai shakes his head. "you're the pretty one here, bella."

you lean forward and press your lips against his forehead. "my pretty baby."

dazai scoffs, but it's weak. you get back up on your knees and wrap your arms around his head, kissing the top of his head. his large hands grab your hips, and he pulls you closer to him. you lift his chin with your fingers and smile widely.

kissing his lips, you feel dazai relax under you. pulling back slightly, you press your lips to both his cheeks, forehead, temples, and nose. he scrunches his face, and a laugh escapes him, the sound calming your racing heart.

"you're the prettiest ever, osamu." you know he'll never see himself the same way, but you'll continue to tell him for eternity.

dazai sighs and nods. with his hand on the back of your neck, he pulls your face down to his. "whatever you say, bella."

CHUUYA —ᡣ𐭩 angry kisses

"—fuck," chuuya chokes out when you shove him against the wall. your fingers are twisted in the fabric of his dress shirt, his coat and vest strewn across his office.

"you said you'd come back uninjured," you say, and the grip chuuya has on your hips tightens. you bring his mouth back to yours, the kiss is hard and hungry as you pin him still as best you can with your pelvis.

chuuya pulls away slightly, his breath heavy and warm against your nose. "you think i go into things planning to get hurt? dumbass."

you furrow your eyebrows at his snarky response, but you're caught off guard when he flips you around, your shoulder blades hitting the wall. you glare at him, but your gaze hardly holds the malice you intend.

chuuya's eyes flicker between yours, and his fingers soften against your waist. your hands slowly unravel from his shirt, and you exhale softly, running your palms up his chest.

"i hate seeing you hurt," you whisper.

chuuya sighs and kisses your cheek. "i know. but i can't help it if some idiot shoots me."

your breaths mingle between you, and you finally acknowledge how swollen his lips are. you run your thumb over his bottom lip and watch it bounce back. your face warms smugly.

"i'm sorry, okay?" chuuya mumbles bitterly, but you see through his attitude. you smile and card your fingers through his hair.

"good."

slowly, the fire returns to his irises. "good?"

you nod, eyebrow raised. "you wanna go again, big boy?"

a sound comes from deep in his throat before chuuya steps back, detaching himself from you completely. he tilts his head and looks you up and down, and you pull at your clothes to straighten them out.

"don't get shy now, doll," chuuya smirks, pulling his bolo tie from his neck. "the fun's only just beginning, no?"

FYODOR —ᡣ𐭩 hello kisses

the front door of the safe house clicks shut silently, but you hear it from your spot in the living room anyway.

fyodor told you he'd be home in two months. it's only been one and a quarter, and this is the first you've heard the main door open. fear clutches your stomach and you shakily stand from the lounge.

"fedya?"

you try to steady your voice, but being alone, you feel helpless. taking one step toward the side table, you snatch the candle stand—it's better than nothing, but only if the intruder is human.

shuffling continues out of sight, and you tip-toe to peek around the corner. being stuck in this house has you reading countless novels, many horror. and it's a well known fact that the person who investigates first always dies, but here you are, feeling (almost) unstoppable with your brass weapon and a dream.

"dorogaya?" the familiar drawl has you dropping the candle holder, the clang of it against the wood floors deaf on your ears.

you laugh in shock as you rush toward fyodor. his cheeks are pink, but you believe it's because of you and not the winter wind outside.

"what are you doing here?" you ask, wrapping your arms around his neck. your breathless voice makes him shiver. fyodor laughs deeply, and his arms circle your waist, quickly picking you up. you bury your face in his neck, holding onto the feel of him so warm and familiar.

"mission finished early; had to see you before the next one."

he spins you around before placing you back down. you blink away tears and curse when one slips, but fyodor's there to wipe it away with his gloveless thumb. nudging his hand away, you push up on your toes to kiss him, your hands in his hair while his fingers press into your cheeks.

the house is silent around you, but you can't stop smiling, and fyodor's face displays the first genuine grin he's had in months. he pulls you closer to him, his heart rate slightly higher than usual. "hello, dorogaya."

you choke out a laugh amidst the onslaught of tears that decided to break past your waterlines, and the sound is music to his ears. "hi, fedya."

ANGO —ᡣ𐭩 heated kisses

"i have to get back to work."

you roll your eyes and pull ango closer by the lapels of his jacket. your lips explore his jaw, and his fingers desperately clutch the fabric of your coat.

"baby, please shut up," you say, pressing your lips to his. he groans into your mouth and sticks his knee between your legs; the feeling has you stuttering against him. pulling away to look down at where you rest on his thigh, ango throws his head back against the wall. you take it as an opportunity to press kisses down the column of his throat.

a strangled whine leaves his lips, the sound making your stomach flip. you push his jacket over his shoulders, and he does little to contest. when you lean back to glance at him quickly, ango has his eyes screwed shut.

you giggle breathlessly and whisper his name.

ango looks at you lazily before dragging his eyes to his wrist, where you know he's checking the time. the storage closet you pulled him into is unlike anything you've done with him before, but it didn't take long for him to warm up to the idea despite his usually stern nature.

"we have loads of time," you run your hands down his torso toward his belt. you can tell ango wants to disagree, but when you kiss him again, he turns to putty.

pushing his glasses over his hair, you continue your attack on his mouth, nibbling and nipping at his bottom lip. ango gathers you in his arms, pulling you higher on his leg and pressing your chest against his.

you pull your face half an inch away from his, panting, and swallow. his dark eyes follow your throat bobbing, and his tongue darts out to the corner of his mouth.

"god, i don't think i can go back to work." you giggle against his mouth and nod in agreeance, feeling the obvious bulge in his pants.

"be quick," ango mumbles, his chest heaving. he looks otherworldly when he's drunk on you. his hands slide up to your neck, and before you can do anything, ango presses a dizzying kiss on your lips.

"nevermind, we're going home."

[littlemissmiller]

𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝑻𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒓𝒔

Pairing: javier peña x fem!reader

Summary: Javier is your partner while on assignment in Bogotá. You can’t seem to resist him, as much as you tell yourself you’re done fooling around with him. One night, he comes home and the next morning, you finally realize your true feelings for him…

Warning: 21+ (drinking and smoking), semi-rough sex, ass slapping, slight power play, dom!javier, sub!reader, oral(m and f receiving), partners/friends to lovers

Word count: 3.8k

A/N: surprise! it’s pedro! i hope y’all enjoy this just as much as the tom fics (which i appreciate all the support once again, exceeded my expectations). I had this one in the vault for a while, but just went back and edited it so here it is! i have another billy and coryo fic in the works, but a girl has got to diversify her blog page no? also i do plan to post more pedro stuff (given my blog name 😅)ok enjoy! ❤︎

☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎☀︎︎

“This is the last time Javier.” You panted as Javier Peña pushed you up against the wall of a small janitor’s closet. A frequent place you had found yourself in once again, fucking like teenagers. Everyone had left the office nearly, but you still didn’t want to get caught.

“Yeah you said that last time sweetheart.” He growled into your ear as he readjusted you, hoisting you up further onto the wall. Your legs were wrapped around his waist and he was fucking up into you. His pants were only down far enough to let his cock out and he continued to push your tight pencil skirt up over your thighs and hips. You moaned into his ear which caused him to pick up his pace.

“I mean it we…we can’t keep doing this.” You moaned as his lips attached to your neck. He smirked and looked back up at you. His hand slithered up your throat and cupped under your chin.

“Really? Is that why you decided to wear this tight little skirt today? To get me to stop?” He panted

“I always wear these…” you lied

“Yeah well what about this blouse then hmm.” His hand slid down your throat to tug on your collar and then slipped inside your blouse to cup your breast.

“You know I can see right through it don’t you?”

“Maybe I was trying to get someone else’s attention…”you croaked out

“Mmm I don’t think so sweetheart. I know other people are looking but they wouldn’t dare to touch you.” He replied

“Why is that?”

“You know why…” he breathed into your ear “because you’re mine…” he picked up his pace and soon enough you were both coming undone.

He held you in place for a while and rested his forehead against yours. You both panted in exhaustion, your breathing in sync. He planted a soft kiss on your cheek before pulling out and setting you back on your feet.

“You should grab a drink with me tonight.” He suggested as he stepped back, readjusting himself, stuffing his cock back into his jeans and buckling his belt.

“Javi…” you sighed, shaking your head and smirking as you buttoned up your blouse “you know my rules…”

Ever since you and Javier started hooking up, you were very explicit about how your relationship would be. You had told him you weren’t looking for a relationship, but he convinced you to be “partners with benefits”.

Your rules were clear. No going out to bars or dinner, no flirting in front of your colleagues, and nothing more than just sex. Those were the rules left anyways. Javier had a way of convincing you to break them. At first, you had told him no hooking up at work, but about two weeks later and one too many tight dresses, you had broken that rule. And the rule not to show physical affection to each other outside of your activities. He couldn’t seem to help himself around you. He would always wait until no one was around, but occasionally he’d plant a kiss on your cheek or come up behind you and plant one on the back of your neck. It would usually turn into more, but occasionally it was just in passing and very quick.

“C’mon we can go as just co-workers. Then it’s not a date”

You looked up at him and rolled your eyes. You slipped your heels back on and started to fix your hair.

“You know what I told you. I’m not looking for a relationship, especially not with you.” You looked at him pointedly and he frowned “besides if you and I get together who else is going to fuck the hookers Escobar likes the have around.” You have joked raising my eyebrow

He rolled his eyes.

“They are informants and I get very useful information from them”

“Oh besides how they like it” you smirked reaching for the door

Javier stopped you. His hand wrapped around your wrist. He looked at you and you looked back at him intensely, snapping your head in surprise and confusion.

“Are you jealous or something?” He asked

“No!” You laughed “besides we get good intel like you said.”

He released your wrist and grunted in agreement. He traced his hand over your own, moving it from your wrist to your finger tip. He moved his fingers around your palm and rubbed his thumb over your knuckles.

“You should still get a drink with me though” he insisted, continuing to stroke your hand. “Hmm…what do you say? He kissed your knuckles this time, which took you off guard but it wasn’t unwelcomed.

A part of you had put these rules in place mainly for yourself. You knew getting tangled up with Javier like this would be trouble and quite frankly a distraction. Maybe you needed a distraction, but with your own partner? Would that really happen? Maybe because you also knew, in the back of your mind, you had deeper feelings at play. You thought about it and, in that moment, you realized you were about to break one of your own rules again.

“Fine.” You started, dropping your hand to your side “just as co-workers thought. This is not a date or anything like a date.”

“Fine by me. Whatever you wanna call it.”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. You opened the janitors closet and poked your head out. You looked around and stepped out. Javier followed after you.

“Let’s get going. And separate cars.” You commanded, looking at him seriously

“I figured.”

“Where are we meeting?” You asked

“That bar near your place. The one on the corner next to your apartment.” You answered

Of course he chose somewhere near your place. You thought he was gonna try and take you home with him after. Back to his place. You were wrong. You and him met at the bar and, what ended up being one drink became three, then a cigarette, and your night was pretty much set.

“This ain’t too bad hmm?” He asked

“I don’t mind getting a drink with you Javier. Just the principle of it I…struggle with”

He smirked at your answer “Is that so?” He slid his hand onto your knee which made you almost choke on the beer you were sipping on.

“Javi!” You gritted though my teeth in a low tone

“You said no flirting in front of co-workers or at work. Nothing about outside of work.” He smirked.

“I hope you understand that you’re not coming home with me tonight.” You remark pointedly

“Oh really why is that?” He asked rubbing my thigh

“Because we are just getting a drink as co-workers. Remember.”

Javier leaned back with a satisfied smirk on his face and downed his whiskey.

“You’re at least gonna let me walk you home?”

“It’s just around the corner.” You reminded him

“So?” He asked

“I’ll be fine, but I have feeling you’d follow me anyways” you joked

“You think I’m too overprotective of you?”

“Sometimes….” You looked at him and he looked at you not with lust but something else. A deeper longing and you knew in that moment what you had suspected for a while. Javier Peña seemed to have fallen for you.

He ended up walking you home and you begrudgingly let him in for “just one more drink” and soon after you found yourself back home with him, although you didn’t actually have sex. The two of you drank whiskey and just talked. Something you rarely found time to do. Simply connect with each other. You both sat on the couch, Javier took the liberty of your closeness to occasionally caress your thigh or play with your hair. It was simple, yet incredibly intimate. You and him eventually moved to your bedroom, where you cuddled up on him. Neither of you talked much after that. You simply lost yourself in that moment with him. You felt complete and your heart felt full. You slowly faded into sleep against him and without realizing it he had kissed your forehead several times after you had fallen asleep until he too drifted off.

When you woke up the next morning Javier was still asleep, sleeping on his stomach. You watched his back muscles as they rose and fell. He breathed heavily and you tangled your fingers loosely in his hair to try and wake him up. He kept sleeping, so you decided to take a shower. As the warm water poured over your head you thought about the way he looked at you the night before. His big brown doughy eyes that looked at you like a puppy dog. His hand on your leg, fingers playing with your hair and his charming smile. And the way you held each other until you both fell asleep. You realized that you liked him too. You had been resisting him and the idea of you two together. Especially given that you weren’t too sure how the DEA would feel about you and him having a relationship.

Would you not be able to work together catching Escobar worse get fired? You didn’t want to lose everything at work just to be with him, but you also couldn’t help but feel this way for him. Your thoughts are disrupted when you hear the shower curtain being pushed back. Javier stepped in behind you and came close, pressing his chest against your back. You kept your eyes closed as he wrapped his hands around your waist. He started placing light kisses on your neck and you reached up behind to cup his face. You could feel his cock getting hard on your ass and you reached down to stroke him. He groaned into your ear as he cupped your breasts.

“Mind if I stay?” He whispered

You spun in his arms and looked into his eyes. That same loving look from last night appeared on his face and you knew that he definitely had feelings for you too. There was no turning back now. For either of you. So you accepted that you were also in love with him and leaned into kiss him. It was passionate, with full force. He pushed your back against the shower wall, cupped your face with one hand while the other was planted on the wall beside your head. You moved up against him and moved your leg slowly up to his waist. He dropped his hand and immediately groped your thigh.

“Wanna stay in here or take this back to the bed?” He asked

“I don’t think we’ve ever done it in the shower before” you remarked

“We haven’t” he smirked

You reached back down the stroke his cock and smiled at him.

“Well Agent Peña…” you said as you continued touching him. “What do you want?”

His hands traveled along your body and settled on your waist. He spun you back around and pushed you back up against the shower wall, grabbing your wrists and holding them behind your back. You let out a breathy moan. You knew calling Javier “Agent Peña” turns him on. And you knew that it could make him go from the sweet man you cared about you so much, into a man hungry with lust. It makes him want to be in charge.

“I want you. And I suggest you behave. Got it?”

You moaned in agreement and nodded. He slapped your ass and tightened his grip around your wrists.

“Words sweetheart…”

“Yes sir…I’ll…I’ll be good” you reply somewhat begrudgingly.

Javier and you had this game sometimes when hooking up. You knew whenever you called him by his formal title, he was going to want to ravish you And you liked to give into him sometimes. Pretend you were a suspect or one of Escobar’s whores. It excited you, in a way you didn’t even know was possible. Makes you feel on edge and you like the anticipation that had control over you. Sex with Javier was usually always good, but when he was trying to find out where the next shipment was going to come in or where Escobar was going to be next he definitely had a few tricks up his sleeve. A few tricks to get girls to talk in bed.

Then he spun you back around as he grabbed your ass again. He rubbed his hand over it and slid it down in between your thighs. His fingers started rubbing your folds and you started melting up against the wall. Letting go of your wrists, he held you closer to him so your back was against his chest. He started pinching and twisting your nipples with his free hand. You let out a series of moans and whines. The hand in between your thigh snaked up and began to rub your clit. His fingers traced over it before pressing down and rubbing in a tight circle. You moaned and arched your back. He moved his hand across your sternum and pushed your back against his chest.

“Don’t move too much sweetheart” Javier demanded. “Just stay right here”

You held onto his biceps now that both of your hands were free. Your legs were shaking and everything around you was going fuzzy.

“Goddamn Peña you make me feel so good.” You whined

“I bet if you were actually one of Escobars girls I��d get information out of you real easy.”

You let out a mix between a moan and a laugh

“You flatter yourself Agent Peña”

With that he pushed you up against the shower wall some more you steadied yourself with your hands. You gasped in surprise at his sudden dominance. He pushed your legs open slightly, his hand grabbing the insides of your thighs. Then you felt the tip of his cock push into you and gasped.

“Would you tell me now?” He asked nipping on my ear lobe

“You’re going to have to do more than that to get anything out of me”

With that he pushed all the way inside you. He felt so full, so big. You couldn’t help but let out a long, staggering moan, but you weren’t about to say anything to him, about how good it felt. Not even say his name. It’s what he was trying to get out of you in this little game of yours. He started pumping in and out of you slowly at first, but he soon picked up his pace. You only let out a few soft moans as he worked his hips against your ass. You weren’t going to let him win that quickly, yet the pleasure was agonizingly good. He started pounding into you and you could barely contain your whimpers. His hand came down and sharply landed on your ass. He smacked it again and again. Each time you couldn’t help but let him hear you.

“Got more to tell me sweetheart?”

You shook your head and he growled into your ear

“C’mon now I know you wanna talk to me. At least tell me how good it feels”

You didn’t reply and he smacked your ass one last time. He pulled out abruptly, spun you around and turned the water off.

“I know what will make you talk…” he smirked

You stared up at him doe eyed, somewhat confused and scared and somewhat in anticipation. He pulled the curtain back then scooped you up into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck and legs dangling from the crook of his elbow. He held your naked body against his tightly and walked back into your bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and you let out a slight yelp. He crawled on top of you and started kissing you again.

“If you won’t talk to me from me fucking you…then I guess I’ll just torture you with my tongue.” He whispered

He worked his way down your entire body, kissing every inch slowly. He was methodically in his actions. Kissing, sucking, and nipping on your flesh like an animal that just caught its prey. He slowly reached your core and began teasing the inside of your thigh with his lips and tongue. Your hand moved down to grab his head and move him where you wanted. He bit down on your thigh, giving it a hard slap, and looked up at you.

“If you want me somewhere specific you’re gonna have to use your words.”

You groaned in response

You watched him as he went back to teasing you. His mouth drew closer and closer to your clit, until finally. Your hips bucked up in his face slightly as he flicked his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. He held you down and started really going for it. He ate you out like he was starving for you. Javier lapped you up, sucking and teasing your core. His tongue was relentless and kept bringing you closer and closer to the edge. He could sense it too. So he kept you on edge for a while. Javier pulled back, gawking at you as your eyes and pouty lips silently begged him to return his mouth to your slit. He slowly rubbed you as he admired you. He stroked himself with his free hand and bent back down to kiss your thighs.

You squirmed when his lips touched your skin again, so desperate to cum for him. Javier kissed your clit again, his soft affectionate demeanor driving you crazy. You wanted to cry out, but you held back, still remembering that he’s trying to coax you into telling him how good he makes you feel. How bad you crave him. Javier made eye contact with you as he tasted you, his tongue delicately danced over your folds. You bit down on your lip hard, eyes never leaving his. He pulled back again, catching his breath. He rubbed your clit again as he looked at you.

“C’mon baby. Why don’t you tell me how good it feels hmm? C’mon let me hear you.” Javier nearly begged but you just shook your head. His face changed as he scoffed at you.

“Fine. Gonna be a stubborn little thing hmm? Two can play at that game.” He said, removing his fingers. You buck your hips up at the loss of his hand, your face scrunched up disappointment. He sat up on his knees and beckoned you to him. You crawled forward, eyes never leaving his. With his cock in one hand, he stroked the side of your face

“Well if you're not going to speak, then maybe you can use your mouth in a different way hmm?” He suggested. He cups your face and draws you close to his crotch.

You opened your sweet little mouth, and he traced your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. You opened and took him into your mouth. He was so big, and you could feel the tip as it prodded the back of your throat. You gagged slightly and he cooed at you. He pumped into you, loving the way your lips became fat and plumb. He held the back of your head and he continued moving his hips. Javier tilts his head back in bliss, his grip getting slightly tighter in your hair. He looks down for a moment, reaching for your ass and giving it a firm squeeze.

“Fuck that’s good.” He quipped. He looked back down at your mouth then back up at your ass. He ran his hand in-between your cheeks and started to rub your slick folds. His actions caught you off guard and you popped your mouth off his length. You moaned and gasped as your legs started to give out.

“Oh there she is. Can’t help it now hmm? Come on, tell me how good it feels.”

You held back for as long as possible, biting down hard on your bottom lip until you can’t help it anymore.

“Mmm mmm ooh fuck Javi fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck..” you finally cried out, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You duck your head down, face against the mattress as Javier made you cum. You convulsed on his hand. He smiled, his satisfaction ever so apparent.

“Thaaaats it. Oh fuuuck, you’re so pretty baby. So pretty cumming for me like this” he moaned

You stared back up at him, eyes slightly wet and glossy from having him down your throat. With a finger under your chin, he guided your lips back up to his. As he kissed you, he gently pushed you back on your back and you spread your legs for him. He wanted to tease you still, catching you while you're still a babbling mess. He rubs your clit as he pushes himself inside you. It was overwhelming at first, and you clenched around his cock.

“Javi…I-I oh fuck your gonna make me cum again” you squealed

“Good. Tell me who makes you feel good hmm?”

“Y-you Javier ok. You win you win you win, I fuck, I-I…”

“Go on. Say it. Say it to me.”

“I want you. Not just, not just like hooking up…I want all of you please…please…”

The admission stumbled out of you and you almost regretted it as you said it but Javier simply smiled. As he pumped into, he leaned down and kissed you

“Ohh I want you too. I have for a while.”

His passion overtook him and he sped up his hips. He was practically possessed, letting his brain go numb as he continued to drill into you. Your fucked out face gawked at him, continuously looking at his face and then at the place where his cock had entered you. The feeling of pleasure consumed you, he felt so full and deep in you. You never wanted this to end and neither did he. Javier kissed you frantically, savoring you.

“That’s all I really wanted this whole time. To know you wanted me too.” He whispered

You nodded and he pumped into you more deliberately.

“Christ baby you feel so good. Not gonna last much longer.”

Mhmm go on. Fill me up. Fuck pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease…” you beg over and over again until he came. His cum spilled into you, feeling warm and filling. He took a moment to catch his breath, kissing all over your face as he did.

“Mmm Javier, we’re going to be in so much trouble…” you muffled as he kissed you

“You really think…” he kissed you “that we should worry about that” he kissed you again “right now. In this moment”

You sighed against him and shook your head

“I hope you have a plan for figuring this out.”

“You know I’ll figure it out baby.” He smiled cockily

He cupped your face and continued to kiss you over and over again. You slowly melted into his touch and so did your anxiety. At that moment you didn’t care. You had him, as much as you had tried to resist him, you wanted him and now, now you had him.

꧁✹❂✹꧂



[agustdiv1ne]

telepathy (m) — cbg

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader

genre: smut, strangers to ???, mind reader/telepathist!beomgyu, funeral home employee!beomgyu (it's for the plot ok???)

wc: 11.7k

synopsis: most people would abhor a packed subway car — but beomgyu, telepathist extraordinaire, relishes in it. with a career in the funeral business, he finds his morning commute to be the only thing that keeps him relatively sane. reading the mundane thoughts of mundane people maintains his tether to his humanity, but when he goes to read your mind...oh, things get a whole lot more interesting.

warnings: mdni!! 18+ only, ageless blogs dni!!!, mentions of dead bodies, embalming, and funerals (though not very descriptive — it's only bc of gyu's profession), reader is a freak that listens to nsfw audios on her way to work!, gyu is a perv so it's a match made in heaven (hell?), gyu's honestly a little strange + obsessive in this...anyways, dom!gyu, sub!mc, solo male masturbation, on my big cock beomgyu agenda, very brief mentions of daddy/sir/master kinks, explicit consent is given before anything happens bc consent is sexy <3, mind manipulation (he makes it feel like he's touching her), exhibitionism in a way (it will all make sense, trust 🙏), degradation, praise, pseudo-fingering (idk how to explain it, f receiving), gyu calls mc: pretty girl, sweetheart, slut, whore, princess, mc calls gyu sir like once...whew! that was a lot, lmk if i should add anything!

note: you know i have a terrible bout of brainrot when the warnings are all nsfw related...yeah. Yeah. *presses post and runs away*

☆ playlist ☆

masterlist

beomgyu’s commute to work is, by all means, uneventful. 

the train is packed as per usual, filled to the brim with businessmen and office workers and other miscellaneous passengers on their way to whatever the hell their destination is. like most days, he finds himself towards the middle of the passenger car, snatching a rare open seat between a stone-faced man adorned in a suit — his head buried in a newspaper — and a slumped over college student nursing a cup of coffee. the poor kid almost looks like death itself, sporting dark under eyes, rumpled clothes, and a prominent slouch to his spine. not that beomgyu could really blame him; he remembers how easily college living (if you could call it living) can chip away at a person’s mental well-being. 

people-watching like this is what keeps him sane, he thinks. being surrounded by corpses all day, every day is more than draining — it sucks the soul out of him, really, being the only person on shift most of the time that he’s working, having to embalm and clean and pretty up all those cold, gray bodies so that their loved ones can say one last goodbye. it’s quiet in their minds and it’s all too quiet in the funeral home, the only sounds being the clanking of the embalming tools he’s been trained to use, his footsteps echoing down the tiled halls, his sighs of contempt when something small goes wrong — yet the living, breathing, warm people on the train provide a sense of normalcy, something to look forward to every day. to hear their thoughts, as prosaic as they are, has become a sort of saving grace from the lifeless, cold building that he finds himself in five out of the seven days of the week. honestly, if he can maintain a little bit of his humanity via strangers among the subway, even if it’s just by hearing their thoughts, then he’ll take what he can get. 

yeah, that’s the thing: beomgyu is a mind-reader, a pretty talented one at that. not that anyone knew, of course — he wouldn’t risk the government finding out. beomgyu is not usually one for promises, but he has promised himself one thing: there’s no way in hell that he will ever become one of the government’s sick little science experiments, even if his life ever hits rock bottom. he has no idea how his powers work — just that they do, and he would like to keep it that way. it’s bad enough that he doesn’t know where he got such abilities; his parents never mentioned anything about it and only ever grew worried whenever he read back their thoughts to them, so obviously the existence of his powers is some statistical anomaly in the universe. normal people can’t read others’ minds. he was forced to learn that at a very young age in order to keep himself safe. 

“how do you know that?” he remembers his mother’s alarmed tone when he first did it unknowingly, repeating back her own thoughts to her without realizing that’s what he had done. he was maybe six at the time — innocent, curious, plagued by voices in his head that he didn’t quite understand. those voices weren’t his. rather, they were his friends’, his family’s, his dentist’s and his doctor’s and his soccer coach’s voices that ricocheted about his mind uncontrollably;it was overwhelming for the young boy’s mind. the day he first admitted that he could hear them was the first day he heard his parents argue, their yelling from downstairs colliding with their internal voices in beomgyu’s mind, their terribly poignant concern for him and this development louder than any of the venomous words that they spat at each other in the living room. all he remembers from that day was himself crying, unable to block out anything that they thought, let alone his own thoughts. too much for his young mind to handle.

he heard their fear when they took him to the doctor for the first time of many, their heartache when the doctor came back and said that he might have psychosis, but more testing was needed. he heard how they started to deny it — their little boy couldn’t have that, could he? no, no he couldn’t. there’s no way he could. 

although beomgyu was young at the time, guilt ate at him. he was the one hurting his parents, he was the one making them worry. despite his official diagnosis when he was seven, something inside him knew that the doctors were wrong. those voices weren’t just the result of the machinations of his mind at work — they were voices of the people he knew, strangers who passed him on the street. what they said wasn’t evil, it wasn’t out of the ordinary. usually, it was quite mundane. at some point, he started to practice with it, trying focus on one certain voice out of the buzzing hive in his mind, blocking out the others, switching and focusing and blocking out until the action was as natural as breathing. it took him about five years before he reached that point, and after nearly two decades of living with his abilities, he’s gotten quite used to it. his mind is usually quiet — besides his own stream of consciousness — unless he allows others in. or, rather, they allow him in, which they always do. he sees it like a set of doors; open one, and you can hear that one person’s thoughts. close it, and he no longer hears them. and none of them are ever locked since no one expects to their thoughts to be read, which simply makes his life that much easier.

if he’s being honest, he didn’t used to read minds as often as he does now, but there isn’t much he can do about that now lest he go insane. beomgyu could admit that his habit was a little creepy…okay scratch that, extremely fucking creepy. these people had no idea that their minds were being infiltrated, their mental walls bypassed and their privacy violated like a computer infected with a malicious virus. it’s borderline depraved, how nonchalantly he robs these strangers of their utmost privacy, sometimes of their deepest, darkest secrets that they would never want anyone to find out about. he could sequester quite a bit of money out of some of these people, now that he thinks about it.

and sure, that may sound immoral, but beomgyu has never considered himself to be of particularly virtuous character.

without a second thought, beomgyu taps into the mind of the kid next to him. he’s thinking about how he’s failing his statistics class because he just bombed his midterm. no, now his mind is full of what he’s going to eat after his 8 a.m. class. he shifts his focus on the businessman to his right. stocks, his cheating wife, how he’s considering leaving with his mistress in the coming days…

”what a prick,” beomgyu thinks to himself, smirking a bit. just a few more stops until he gets off, now. 

he pulls his phone from his jacket pocket, scrolling aimlessly just to keep his eyes busy. sitting on the opposite side of the college student, an elderly lady walks herself through the stew that she’s going to make for her grandchildren tonight, excitement coloring her words. it’s cute — he loves hearing things like that. wholesome thoughts are not easy to come by nowadays, given the state of the world. exhibit a: a teenager standing on the other side of the train car worries himself into a frenzy over whether the girl that he has a crush on likes him back. exhibit b: a middle aged man contemplates if he should quit his job. for a second, beomgyu thinks that he might be in the same boat as him, before realizing that he has nothing else to fall back on — exhibit c. he could keep going.

a clear, robotic voice overhead announces the subway’s arrival to the next station — his station. sighing, he sits up a little taller, slipping his phone into the pocket of his slacks. a vague sense of dread weighs down his shoulders, knowing that he has a service to set up for the moment he clocks in.

he’s not looking forward to today, and yet the train still slows to a stop, the doors still slide open, and he still grabs his work briefcase from the spot between his feet. like clockwork, beomgyu maneuvers through the crowd, out the doors, and climbs the stairs up to the chilly streets of seoul.

decompressing after a slow-moving shift can take beomgyu’s night in many directions. sometimes, he simply returns home and hops into bed after a long, scalding hot shower that removes the invisible layer of grime that lays heavy on his skin. other times — typically on fridays — he’ll stop by a bar and catch up with his friends, occasionally leaving with a woman hanging off of his arm if he drinks enough to lower his inhibitions. more often than not, however, his excursions at the underground bar that taehyun is partial to end in him stumbling home alone and waking up the next morning with a raging headache. nursing a hangover alone, eating breakfast alone, bathing alone…he has never really become acclimated to it. the monster that festers inside beomgyu’s chest craves for love, for connection, for somebody to hold when the nights are too dark and his thoughts match the shade of the sky. the lack of connection is slowly getting to him. is this what insanity feels like? he wouldn’t know, nor would he like to find out. he’s sane. he’s perfectly sane. 

beomgyu understands that his profession can be off-putting to potential lovers, but it’s not as if he had much of a choice in the matter — not when his one shot at the career of his dreams crumbled below his feet when the company filed bankruptcy, sending him tumbling back down to earth, to the reality that his college degree meant little to nothing to the vast majority of employers nowadays. though he applied to dozens of jobs, the only one he ever heard back from was from the listing titled “mortuary assistant,” and in desperation, he accepted the position without much thought. maybe if he had tried a little harder to find a different company where he could apply his skills, maybe if he had pushed himself to make connections in the industry when he had the resources to do so, maybe if he had pursued music production a little harder, had not given up so readily when things grew difficult…maybe things would be different. 

beomgyu often thinks about the maybes.

this particular night, he finds himself leaned over a bar counter, a glass of amber-hued beer in hand. he half-listens to yeonjun’s slurred account of his dance crew’s latest win while he stares down at the mahogany tabletop. some condensation has gathered on the wood, and he swipes a finger through it. a slap to his shoulder brings his focus back to his surroundings.

“gyu, dude, y’should totally try out,’’ yeonjun pitches as he sloppily swings an arm over beomgyu’s shoulders. “get out of that. that—” he stumbles over his words for a moment, expression warping into a confused grimace. “that gross ass dead people building.”

beomgyu exhales a laugh as yeonjun’s head lolls against his shoulder, quietly whining about how his head hurts. while yeonjun is substantially gone already, beomgyu is only on his second beer. scanning the spacious, dim-lit room, he shakes his head. it’s times like these where he does not feel the need to slip into people’s minds — being surrounded by his friends is enough. “nah, man. i don’t think i could keep up. it’s been a while.”

“sure y’could! you’re like th’second best dancer here!” yeonjun says as his torso slumps down against the table. the bartender eyes him from further down the bar top with concern, but beomgyu sates the employee with an apologetic smile, ensuring that he turns away before setting his attention back on his friend.

beomgyu scoffs. “and i’m assuming you’re the first best?”

“uh, obviously. i literally run th’thing,” yeonjun retorts as he glares at him with a single eye open, an ear now resting on top of his crossed arms on the counter.

“yeonjun’s right,” taehyun butts in from the other side of yeonjun’s collapsed body. though his glazed over eyes give away his inebriated state, taehyun’s tolerance tends to lean much higher than yeonjun’s; this fact is confirmed by the crystal clear enunciation of his words as he continues, “you’ve been acting differently ever since you started working there. it wouldn’t hurt to try something new.”

great, even his friends have noticed. exhaling deeply, beomgyu nods.

“yeah, i’ll think about it.” 

as the conversation meanders off into other topics, beomgyu sinks back into his own little world. curse taehyun and his acute perceptiveness. he knows that he’s been acting off, but maybe his friends are right; he once dreamed of being a choreographer, back when he was a teen, before he discovered his love for music production. perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to try.

unintentionally, he meets the gaze of a girl sitting at a booth with her friends. he quickly averts his gaze, and by the time he looks back up, she has been roped into what seems like a shot-taking contest. six other girls circle the table, one joining the first girl in taking rapid-fire shots, four others egging them on, and one laser-focused on her phone, occasionally sipping water through a straw. from what he can gather, she’s likely the group’s designated driver — though it seems her role has morphed into more of a babysitter. she’s pretty, he’ll admit. just his type. if he was on his third or fourth beer, he’d probably be over there trying to strike up a conversation with her, rather than any of her drunk friends. 

as she looks up and throws a cursory glance around the bar, she catches him staring, her kohl-lined eyes meeting his own. an eyebrow raises as her gloss-coated lips twist, as if to say “don’t even try it.”

oh, how terribly he wishes to slip into her mind and let her know that he has no intention to. 

the ear-piercing screech of yeonjun’s barstool to his right tears his gaze away from her. yeonjun now stands, one arm around taehyun and the other around soobin, the latter sporting a borderline disgusted grimace directed at the older boy hanging off of him while kai simply stands behind the trio of men. yeonjun’s head hangs low below his shoulders, chin nearly touching his chest, as he emits a pathetic groan. at least he’s not puking this time.

“we’re about to go grab some food. this one,” taehyun’s head nods to yeonjun’s sagging frame. “definitely needs it. you coming?”

unwilling to allow the night to end quite yet, beomgyu hums, quickly pays his tab, and allows the brief, silent encounter with the woman to fade away into the back of his mind.

the rest of the weekend passes without fanfare, and monday returns to rear its ugly head once again. monday is beomgyu’s least favorite day of the week; it brings a raging headache from his 5 a.m. alarm, a bone-deep fatigue that lingers for the rest of the day. it brings grumpy commuters whose knees and elbows uncomfortably bump against his own. it brings people who think that he should give up his seat, and silently tell him so with narrowed eyes and furrowed eyebrows. how selfish, they all think whenever he actually bothers to read their thoughts. what a fucking dick, some of them even snarl within the so-called impenetrable walls of their minds, walls he so easily breaks down. he levels those ones with a half-awake glare, pupils gloomy and lifeless. internally, their uneasy reactions make him want to laugh, hysterically cackle in their faces because wow, is he really that scary? he shouldn’t be, but maybe the dark under eyes are doing something for him.

surprisingly, the subway car he frequents is less crowded than usual. not as many people stand in front of him, and he’s actually able to see directly across the car for the first time in a while. doors shut, and he’s left to look around at the regulars and the new patrons that often don’t show up again. they’re easily less interesting than the regulars. really, what can he say? the daily life updates satisfy his nosy tendencies. 

still, he hates mondays. mondays suck. mondays make him want to crawl into a hole and eventually join the bodies at his workplace. they bring out the worst in his mind. all they do is remind him of the neverending cycle that he has trapped himself in — wake up, work, go to sleep, and do it all over again the next day.

mondays bring a lot of things he fundamentally dislikes, but this particular monday also brings you. 

it’s split-second eye contact. nothing more, nothing less. your eyes grow wide, your lips parting just the slightest bit in surprise. though he has not invaded your mind (yet), he can already tell what you are thinking. fuck, he isn’t blind — he knows that he is handsome.

your eyes shoot downward, your head hanging low with your phone clenched between your fingers. one of his eyebrows raises while a small smirk plays on his lips — you’re new, and even better, you’re cute. his dark, seemingly bored gaze trails over to the earbuds nestled in your ears, then to your crossed legs. you glance up at him again, eyes blowing wide again as your thighs press together just enough for him to notice the movement. his own eyes narrow slightly, evaluating the sight. 

you seem...interesting. prim, proper, sitting in a modest-length skirt and a plain blouse and coat that paint you as an unassuming character, just another random person in this sardine can of a train car. yet there’s this glint in your eyes that tells him there is so, so much more to you than what meets the eye — that the innocent, put-together little front that you display to the world is a complete and utter lie. it’s intriguing. new patrons come and go from this particular subway car every day, but you and your fresh face have caught his interest — and so has your odd behavior. 

then, without warning, realization punches him square in the gut.

you were there the other night, with those girls at the bar. the one sitting at the end of the table with the small glass of water as you scrolled through your phone. the one who shot a piercing glare at him as you looked out for your inebriated friends. your current behavior is a far cry from the strong front he first encountered that night, small and oh-so meek and lacking the sharp, piercing edge to your gaze that initially piqued his interest in you. the change, for some reason, intrigues him more. what happened to that feisty glare, that confident air to your posture? he wants to know why you seem so meek, so he taps in to your mind and—

“you’re my dumb little slut, aren’t you? fuckin’ say it—”

beomgyu flinches in his seat, the door to your mind slamming shut as he sits there in shock. did he really just hear that? are you listening to fucking porn on the subway? what the fuck?

he’s never had this happen to him before. he’s accidentally stumbled upon the occasional horny thought before, sure, but listening to porn on the subway? that’s a new one. he decides to give you another glance; your lips are pressed together now, eyes pointed towards the floor as you further shrink into yourself. fuck, you’re so cute, but now he knows you’re also awfully perverted — and for some reason, he feels himself getting hard in his trousers at the thought of entering your mind again. 

he should do something about this little development, shouldn’t he?

yeah, he thinks that he should. a sick sort of curiosity wins over the more logical side of his brain, the side that tells him that he should feel guilty for even thinking about what he’s about to do. he can’t, can he? no, he can — he wants to, he really fucking wants to. opportunities like this don’t just present themselves on a silver platter like this on the regular. if he doesn’t take this chance, then he’d be an absolute fool. 

the subway slows to a stop, the weirdly cheery, robotic voice calling out another stop. not his, thank god. he takes this opportunity to open that pesky little door to your mind again, now fully expecting the depravity echoing in your brain — and rather than do anything drastic too quickly, he simply sits there and listens. he listens through an entire audio alongside you, ignoring the twitch of his cock as he listens to the woman be degraded and praised, in missionary and in doggy, her moans mixing with the man's in a cacophony of pleasure — he loves the way you jump when the sound of a hand striking flesh sounds through your mind. your fleeting sigh of “god, i wish that were me,” causes him to bite his lip. you like being treated like a slut, huh? like a stupid little whore only made to take cock? that’s music to his ears, really — because he likes treating girls like that too. 

as sick and disgusting as it is, he continues to listen as if mindlessly tuning in to a podcast, subtly adjusting himself in his pants as he fights off a raging boner. he wants to be the one to do those things to you. he wants to make you scream and sob and beg for mercy as he completely ravages your body, fuck you until you’re brainless, perfect little slut for him. you’d love that, according to the audios you consume for the remainder of his commute — to be fucked so hard you legs give out from under you, to be owned, fully and completely. he likes that sound of that as well.

a few minutes into the second audio, you take another glance at him, eyes squeezing shut right away once you catch his gaze — and suddenly, your thoughts are full of him. he’s encountered countless strangers who can perfectly visualize their streams of consciousness, and you seem to be yet another one of them. images of you on your knees between his thighs and sucking his cock in the middle of this subway car flood his own mind, switching to one of him fucking you from behind against the wall while everyone else watches, then to him finger fucking you with a hand around your throat…what the fuck. what the fuck? how do you just do that? how do you think of such terribly shameless things while looking so pretty and demure, as if you’re a shy little thing rather than some fucking whore? he shifts his briefcase over his lap again. fuck, he’s so hard it’s starting to hurt. shit, fuck. 

he should be appalled by you, but fiery, ardent lust is the sole emotion that floods his veins. would it be a bad idea to talk to you? no, you want it. you want it so fucking bad. just look at your mind — and he can make all your dirty little fantasies come true, if you would let him. 

just as he’s about to actually do something about you, the subway slows to a stop once again, the same cheery voice announcing his stop. god dammit. pushing himself up to his feet, he finds that you’re doing the same, wide eyes flitting around nervously as you move towards the door and stop nearly right next to him, those earbuds that hide your biggest secret in plain sight still stuck in your ears. he can still hear those degrading words and moans and slapping sounds that still echo through your mind, loud and clear as if those white earbuds are sitting snug in his own ears. 

the doors slide open, and soon enough, he loses sight of you in the surging crowd. stepping out of the subway, he looks around once, twice. you have completely disappeared; nowhere to be found, your mind has grown too far from his own for him to locate nor access, the tether between the two of you frayed to the point of snapping in half. with a brief purse of his lips, he sets off up the stairs. it’s fine, there’s always another day. it’s fine, he tells himself over and over again. there’s nothing he could have done in such a short time, anyway. 

the sun sits high in the sky today, but the bone-chilling air cuts through his puffy coat like tiny needles puncturing his skin, or millions of scalpels slicing open flesh nearly to the bone, cold and sterile and far from comforting. autumn shouldn’t be this cold, and his slightly soured mood isn’t helping his case right now. he should have done something back there, he should’ve opened up the channel between the two of you and taken the plunge. it wouldn’t have hurt to try, but no. no, he let that opportunity go like every other one he’s had in his life. with his jaw set, he promises himself that it won’t happen again. it won’t, because if he keeps living like this — allowing all these opportunities slip through his fingers like grains of sand — he’ll never be able to forgive himself.

and honestly, beomgyu is no clairvoyant, and he should brush off the tickle in his brain as a stupid, naive hunch…but he has a compelling feeling that he’ll be seeing you again tomorrow. 

when beomgyu returns home, the sun slowly sinking towards the horizon, he doesn’t unwind like he usually does. today’s shift was a slow one, with no bodies to preen and primp and no services to set up for, so most of his time was taken up with cleaning, filing documents, and sitting around aimlessly. no matter how much he tried to fend them off, thoughts of you bounced around in his brain for the entire eight hours he was on shift. fuck, he doesn’t even know your name, much less anything else about you, yet he wishes he could travel back in time and redo this morning all over again. he’s not sure how it would have panned out, exactly, but he has a few tricks up his sleeve that would’ve made it exciting.

he shakes his head. the current moment presents much more pressing matters than ruminating on this morning’s terrible decisions; the strain in his trousers proves to be a pertinent issue, a tent formed in the black fabric and aching to be touched. now that the public eye no longer holds his gaze, his apartment door locked shut behind him, he allows himself to give in to his most base instincts. a hand comes down to cup his hardness as he imagines his fingers as yours, you on your knees below him, those adorably wide eyes staring up at him in desperation. you’d wait for permission, right? you’d beg so prettily like a good little slut should? fuck yeah, you would. you’d be good, you’d take what he would give you — and you would love it. 

groaning, he crashes onto his couch, head throwing back against the back cushion as he gropes his cock harder. he’s forgone slipping off his dress shoes and has barely even slipped his coat off before he’s giving in to the pulsing ache in his groin that’s nearly unbearable, the white hot need swirling in his stomach that demands his immediate attention. his belt quickly unbuckled and his trousers pulled halfway down his thighs, he slips his cock from his boxers, gasping at how sensitive he has become. 

“oh fuck,” he breathes out into the quiet air, a shuddered sigh following when his thumb swipes over the angry red head, the bead of precum that has gathered there spreading across his skin. he brings his hand up to his lips, gathering some spit beneath his tongue before letting in loll into his palm. bringing it back down, he drags his hand up and down his shaft, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as pleasure rushes through his veins. he pumps his cock steadily, hips rolling up into his hand as if fucking your throat. eyes fluttering closed, his free hand grips the couch, fingernails digging into the worn leather and leaving half-moon indents in their wake. “fuck. god, fuck.”

would you be able to take him? he’s been told he’s big, most women barely able to take him even after extensive prep. he imagines how you’d keen as he enters you, your back arching so prettily and your walls stretching to their limits to accommodate his size. how you’d choke and gag on his cock if he decided to use your throat, tears streaming down your cheeks as you peer up at him pathetically, fingers digging into your thighs as you resist the urge to touch yourself. would you like to be slapped around a little, punished with spankings and little taps to your cheek? 

“focus,” he mumbles to no one. to you. “focus, slut. be good for me.” 

he’s delirious at this point, has dived so deep into his fantasies that he barely registers that he’s fucking his fist and not your mouth or sweet little cunt. that doesn’t stop his fingers from tightening their grip, squeezing the head before gliding back down again, then back up, the rhythm of his hips growing frenzied as his high inches closer. his free hand smooths up his stomach, taking his button-up with it as he clenches it with desperate fingers. he bites down on the fabric, pumping himself once, twice, three times before his high hits him, his cum spurting out in staccato ribbons. he’s making a mess, but he can’t bring himself to care when this is the best orgasm he’s had in months. the shirt falls from his mouth as he moans unabashedly. 

“take it,” he groans, his hips canting upward. “fuckin’— fuckin’ take it. shit. such a perfect little whore for me.”

he cums and he cums, spilling all over himself until he’s milked dry. eyes closed, his contracted muscles melt into the couch, hot pants replacing his moans and groans. a few minutes pass before he fully comes down from his headspace and returns back to earth, only for him to realize just how much he came, staining his clothes and coating his skin in creamy white. he blinks. 

reality crashes down on his head. 

he just…jerked off to you. he just came so hard he saw stars just from the mere thought of you. oh, he’s in deeper than he first thought. too deep, too quickly, he can barely breathe. 

“fuck,” beomgyu murmurs as he stares down at his cum-covered abdomen, his sticky hand. “fuck.”

beomgyu was right: you do come back the next day. and the next. and the next.

over the remainder of the work week, he watches you — well, more so listens to you, but he can’t deny himself the little glimpses he allows himself to take, drinking in how you worry your bottom lip, how the muscles in your throat contract each time you gulp. the poker face that you don crumbles oh so easily whenever he meets your stray gaze. it’s exhilarating, knowing the power he, a complete stranger, has over you. your microscopic slips in expression remain undetected to the rest of the passengers, but he sees every single one. they’re a perfectly entertaining backdrop for your explicit musings. 

he knows he could approach you like a normal human being would, but where’s the fun in that? he’s not quite a normal person in his own right, anyway. instead, he’s decided to keep you in his sights, learning what exactly you enjoy, what you like to hear, preparing for the day where he again gathers the courage to toy with you within the walls of your mind. he’s in deep, and at this point, he’s accepted it if only to justify his sadistic obsession with you. actually, on second thought, he wouldn’t quite call it an obsession, perhaps a morbid curiosity more than anything. yeah, that’s all it can be.

it’s almost as if the universe has sent him a little present in the form of you, an apology for the trials and tribulations that whatever is above has rained down on him this past year or so. of course he’s going to savor it. who wouldn’t? so he sticks to his plan, and keeps watching you, listening to you, observing you, identifying your little quirks and deepest, darkest desires. they’ll be quite useful later, he’s sure. 

over his…research period, he’s found out a lot about you. you like to be bullied, to be called a slut, a whore, but you also enjoy a little praise mixed in: good slut, good whore, pretty girl is so obedient for sir, for daddy, for master. you’re also not too picky in what you listen to, as long as it contains a male dominant in some capacity. couple’s content, threesomes, gangbangs are all on the table, as are solo audios that usually have some sort of plot to them — coworkers to lovers' first date that ends in sex? check. hot librarian who fucks over a table you after closing? that too. he could go on about what he’s heard in just the solo audios you consume, but even that list would be exhaustive. 

by the time friday rolls around, he doesn’t even have to try to search for your mind; call him crazy, but it’s almost as if you, on some subconscious level, know that he wants in and are more than willing to let him. as if you keep the door cracked open just for him. 

at least, he likes to think that you do. 

staying close, but not too close, to you proves to be difficult today. fridays bring with them a surge of new faces that crowd the subway car, which is generally quite annoying, but at the moment, he also finds it to be frustrating. no seats are open when he boards, he can’t even see you through the dense crowd, but you’re there. your mind is there, open and waiting for him to enter.

though he won’t be able to see your cute little reactions, he steps through that mental threshold. 

“it’s okay, baby. shh, don’t cry, you can cum. cum for me, just let go,” a gentle voice coos. aw, you must be having a rough morning, how sad. the only other day you listened to these kinds of audios, you looked absolutely miserable, the corners of your lips pulled down and a deep, pathetic furrow to your brows — it was wednesday, that’s right. two days ago, when you seemed frazzled and completely out of it. a little digging resulted in him learning that you had spilled your coffee all over the concrete on the way here, you thought your hair didn’t look right (even though, to him, it did, it looked perfect — he wished he could’ve told you that), and worst of all, your boss emailed you late the previous night to admonish you for your performance, demanding a meeting first thing that morning. 

still, he wishes he could take care of your boss, eliminate that weight off of your shoulders. if it were up to him, your boss would be sitting in the morgue at his place of work, gray and comatose and unable to admonish you for things that beomgyu is sure you had no control over. because that’s how offices work, right? sink or swim, big fish eat the little ones, blaming those below them for everything they should be taking responsibility for. your boss has to be one of those. he was pig-nosed and donning a constant sneer when you pictured the verbal berating you’d be getting once you got to your workplace. 

that day, he found himself thinking about how he’s become pretty talented with a scalpel. 

“good girl. doing so well for me, pretty girl,” the same voice soothes, soft cries and sniffles from the submissive mixing with the gentle words. he could treat you all sweet too. he could be anything you want, if only you knew him. 

he wants you to know him — needs you to, really.

there’s no clear cut reason for your current sour mood, your thoughts too jumbled together for him to properly decipher. are you picking apart your appearance? did you wake up late? is this all because of your boss again? he might just kill the bastard if that’s the case…if only he could approach you, tell you that everything will be okay, but he doesn’t want to knock down the house of cards he’s spent such precious time building over the course of the week. you’re too special for that. it’s the very reason why he tries to blend into the crowd, why he tries to keep eye contact to a minimum. the last thing he needs is for you to run away from him when you’re one of the only things holding him together.

when the car slows to his and your stop, disappointment nips at the space between his eyebrows. he didn’t even get to see you today, and the end of the work week means that he won’t be seeing you for two entire days. sighing, he falls into his typical routine: move towards the doors, wait for them to open, and follow the other exiting passengers out. where could you be? you’re still here, he knows that much since he’s still connected to you, still hears those soft words and moans, but where the fuck are you? you, as in your body. that you.

with a single cursory glance around, he swears he catches a glimpse of your figure before the crowd swallows you whole. as he’s shoved towards the stairs by the crowd, his chest grows heavy.

friday has just begun, but monday couldn’t come any faster. 

“so, are you gonna try out?”

yeonjun is far more sober compared to last friday night, his eyes lacking that fatigued droop they always get whenever he’s had too much. beomgyu tears his glazed-over gaze away from the television screen to look at the yeonjun, sinking further into the couch below him. he points to himself. “me?”

yeonjun rolls his eyes, a knee swinging over the arm of the armchair he sits in. “who the fuck else would i be talking to?”

scoffing, beomgyu shoots him a glare. “i don’t know, man. y’don’t have to be a dick about it.”

the open bottle of beer in beomgyu’s hand chills his fingertips, so he switches it to his other hand before taking another sip. meanwhile, soobin plops down next to him with an already open bag of chips, offering some to him. he shakes his head, and soobin shrugs, beginning to munch on them by himself. 

“i’m serious though,” yeonjun continues. “you should really try out. there’s not much to it, just dance to one song and you’re done. i’d probably pass you even if you sucked.”

“that’s nepotism,” taehyun chimes in from the floor, eyes trained on the screen as he shoots a player down in the game him and kai are currently obsessed with. the sound of gunfire fills the living room of soobin and yeonjun’s apartment, the murmurs of the two boys a low drone beneath it as they figure out their best strategy to win. 

he almost wishes he lived here with soobin and yeonjun, or with the other two. yeonjun and soobin, taehyun and kai — only beomgyu lives alone. alone doesn’t necessarily mean lonely, but in beomgyu’s case, it does. maybe that’s why he’s latched onto you so hard: to cure his loneliness. he swats that thought away like one would a pesky mosquito. he hasn’t latched onto you, he admonishes himself, he’s simply curious. yeah, curious. 

just a little innocent curiosity. 

disregarding taehyun’s comment, yeonjun raises an eyebrow towards beomgyu. “i know i was drunk when i said that shit last week, but you really have been acting weird since you started at that job. we’ve all noticed.”

“yeah, it’s like you’ve gotten more reserved, or something,” soobin says, words muffled by his chewing. beomgyu grimaces, shifting closer to the arm of the couch. 

“you’re the most introverted one here, you can’t say shit,” kai snorts. soobin throws a chip at his head.

“anyway,” yeonjun butts in with a scalding glare before an argument can begin. soobin and kai blanch, mouths closing. “we’re just…concerned about you.”

“is this some kind of intervention?” beomgyu laughs, disbelief apparent in his tone. he’s fine. he has you now.

“no, we just want you to know that there’s other things you could do that would make you happier than work at a fucking funeral home,” taehyun says, eyes still not straying from the tv. 

“like joining my dance crew,” yeonjun tacks on. 

beomgyu sighs. they’re kind of right, if he’s being honest with himself, but is he ready to put himself out there again? is he ready to face the potential of rejection, of failure? he’s had his life fall apart in front of his eyes once already, what if it happens again?

“...i guess.”

“c’mon.” yeonjun shifts around until he’s leaning on his elbows, focus solely on beomgyu. “tryouts are next saturday. i know how fast you can learn choreography. hell, you could probably learn something in a couple hours and be fine.”

“honestly, you’ll never know if you don’t try,” soobin chimes in. “it might end in something good.”

“yeah,” beomgyu says before taking another large swig of beer. “yeah, i know.”

and so another weekend passes, and monday returns once again. 

soobin’s brief, sage advice plays through his mind again and again. although he understands that soobin meant for it to apply to his current career situation, beomgyu has adopted it for his situation with you instead. he should try, he’s going to try, eventually. 

it might end in something good, he tells himself over and over again. he has to try.

mondays are a bit less excruciating now that you’re around. he has only known you for a week, but it’s been long enough to know that you make his day-to-day routine bearable — hell, he’ll stay at his terrible job as long as you keep showing up each morning. the day that you don’t will be the nail in his coffin — he chuckles at his stupid joke. yeonjun is rubbing off on him too much.

the sky is overcast today, and endless expanse of gray that contrasts the warmth of the changing leaves that line the sidewalk. it might rain soon, he surmises, but he hopes that it won’t. he’s forgone an umbrella today. digging his hands further into his coat pockets, he ducks into the subway station, descending the stairs and weaving through the crowd until he finds his usual platform. when he gets there, you’ve already arrived, ears vacant of those white earbuds, but it’s not a foreign sight to him. you typically put them in once you sit down. the fact that you get on and get off at the same stop as him…he almost likes to think of all of this as fate. 

maybe the universe really is trying to apologize. 

the subway arrives at the platform a few minutes later — minutes in which he tries not to stare at you. he’s not a creep, he swears that he’s not. he’s not a creep, he’s not a creep — he repeats this to himself as he follows behind you into the subway car the two of you frequent, he finds a seat across from you a few feet to your left. he can’t be too obvious.

and most importantly, he’s not a creep. 

you dig around in your bag. ah, here come those infamous earbuds, he’s sure of it — but then they don’t, and then the digging through your bag grows a degree more frantic, your lips parting as you continue shoving whatever is in there aside in search of your most precious possession.

you feel like crying as panic surges through your veins. oh god, you forgot them. how could you have forgotten them? what are you going to do now? 

beomgyu decides to tap into your mind in that moment, finding you in an unbelievably frazzled state. his heart clenches in his chest, he wishes he could help somehow…

wait. he could…oh my god, he could. no, that’s sick, he’s not a creep — well, no, he could. he definitely fucking could, and you’d probably end up liking it…

he could be your temporary replacement for today — no, he could become your constant source, the one you need to get through the day. he could become your audios. he wants to. they’d be far more…interactive, if he did, after all. you’d love what he could do to your pretty fucking body just with access to your mind. reading thoughts isn’t the only thing he can do — and soobin’s right: he’ll never know if he doesn’t try. how could he sit here any longer and not give in to his burning desire to ravage you? you know what? fuck it. this is the perfect opportunity, served up once again on a silver platter, waiting for him to take. he’s not going to let it slip away again — and oh, you just look so devastated right now, how terrible would he be if he didn’t help you?

in a split-second moment, beomgyu decides that today is the day. deep breath. focus. okay, he can do this. one, two, three…

“hello, pretty girl.”

you flinch before you look up and around, only to find no one is looking at you — well, he is, but through his peripherals. wouldn’t want to get caught, would he? suppressing a smirk at your reaction, he shifts in his seat.

“was someone just talking to me?” you ask yourself, brows furrowing as your eyes continue to dart around. your hand comes up to your ear to see if you accidentally remembered your earbuds, your frown deepening when you register that they are, indeed, not in your ears. glancing around again, your eyes skirt over his form. he shivers at the thought of what’s to come, biting his lip as he avoids your gaze. “is this some sort of prank?”

“calm down, sweetheart, this isn’t a prank. now, stop looking around, you’re the only one who heard me.”

your brain flits from thought to thought so quick he can barely keep up, the volume of them rising as you panic. your fingers clench the strap of your purse as if to ground yourself. “am i hallucinating right now? what the fuck? this has to be a prank. should i go to the doctor’s? no, my boss would kill me if i called out, but fuck, i should really go if i’m hearing things—”

beomgyu chuckles, the sound echoing through your mind as well. freezing, your muscles lock up as you look around again. your distressed stream of consciousness stops for a moment, before resuming at a much more rapid pace. “what the fuck, i need to call out right now, where’s my phone—”

sighing, he leans back into his seat and closes his eyes. so cute, how easily you spiral. “quiet that pretty little head of yours, pretty girl. you’re not hallucinating, this is all real. very real.”

a few moments pass before your internal freakout quiets down. for once, silence fills your mind…and rather than him break it, it’s you: “someone’s…talking to me through my mind? this is real?”

“such a smart girl. you figured it out so quickly,” beomgyu taunts, resisting the urge to coo again. adrenaline rushes through his veins, urging him to continue. you need him. he can make you happy. he just needs to hear you say it.

your thighs press together at the praise, fingers digging into the trousers you had chosen to wear. you shouldn’t be feeling like this. this is strange, terribly strange, and even a little frightening, now that you are aware that someone — that a complete stranger, at that — has full reign over your conscious. yet, at the same time, you’re curious to see how this will play out.

“and you can speak to me, too, if you focus hard enough…” his voice trails off. okay, you can do that. allowing your eyelids to flutter shut, you begin to breathe deeply until even the mechanical noises of the subway and the murmurs of passengers vacate your senses. mind empty, you exhale a shaky breath. focus. stay focused. 

“hmm, impressive. you’re a natural at this.” god, he needs to quit praising you like that with his deep voice. by the way he laughs, you know he heard that too. fuck. 

“who are you and why the fuck are you in my brain?” you decide to ask. straight to the point, no fluff to it, it’s reminiscent of your attitude at the bar where he first laid eyes upon you. this is the wall you put up towards strangers and any other threat to your life, but little do you know, beomgyu’s breached that wall already. this is just a little front. “answer me, you fucking asshole—”

“woah, woah, watch the language. why would i tell you who i am? it’s much more exciting this way, don’t you think?” the smile in his voice is unmistakable, but he purses his lips to keep them from curling upward. 

you start to gnaw on your bottom lip, biting hard enough for pain to bloom across your nerve endings. this is stranger you’re talking to right now, a stranger who you’re talking to through your fucking thoughts. this is weird. you never signed up for this. “get the hell out of my mind before— before i—” 

“before you what? can’t kick me out, you don’t know how to do that, pretty girl.”

fuck, he’s right — wait, if he’s in your mind right now, can he also control it? is he going to hurt you? is he going to make you his puppet and go on a murder spree? is he in this car with you, or somewhere else? what if…what if…

beomgyu can almost feel your panic swelling in his own chest. fuck, he needs to put a stop to your spiraling before it gets out of control. if you freak out now, then all of his work over the past week will be for naught. after all, he’s not going to do anything without your permission. the last thing he wishes to do is scare you off completely before he can have his fun. with great urgency, he cuts off your ramblings, “hey, now, relax for me, princess. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m as human as you are, just a bit…different, i guess. and i am in the same car as you right now.”

rather than respond, you look around again, eyeing every single man around you with suspicion, even him. he stares at the floor, maintaining what he hopes to be a neutral, borderline bored, expression. he needs to keep it together. he’s gotten this far, he can’t ruin this. “looking around again, huh? if i were that easy to spot, then this game wouldn’t be very fun, would it?” 

“game? fucking with my mind is a game to you?” 

the corners of his lips twitch up before he’s forcing them back down. this is it, the moment he has been waiting oh so patiently for. keep it together.

“well, not really — i actually have a proposition for you, if you’d hear me out.”

scoffing, you urge him along. “just get on with it.”

“so impatient. that’s okay. i can work with that,” he smirks. “i know what you listen to every morning, you know.”

your heart drops to your stomach. he what? oh god, you think you’re going to be sick. your arms wrap around your stomach, squeezing hard. this is bad, this is really fucking bad. “do you want money, or something? are— are you trying to blackmail me right now? i’ll have you know, i’m actually kinda broke right now. i really don’t wanna end up homeless, can you just. pick someone else to fuck with? there’s like twelve different businessmen in this car, i’m sure they’re rich and corrupt—”

beomgyu’s brows raise imperceptibly. jesus, are you always this flighty? “woah, chill. i’m not here to judge you — or blackmail you, for that matter. i’m not evil. aw, don’t look all shameful now. i told you i’m not here to judge — i actually wanna help you, if you’d let me.”

“help me?” you dumbly echo. “help me how?”

“well,” he starts. “i noticed you forgot your earbuds today, and you just looked so sad and lost without them. how else are you going to get through your commute? and then i thought maybe i could do something about that. y’know, help you out, get you through the morning.”

“so you invaded my privacy just to tell me that you wanna dirty talk to me for the rest of my commute? is that what you mean? ‘cause if so, that’s pretty weird,” you reply, though your stray thoughts that dart around tell him that you’re actually considering his offer — it’s tempting, isn’t it? to give in, to let his deep voice get you all squirmy and needy, knowing he could be anyone in this subway car. still, your words make him laugh, because of course you’re deflecting right now. it’s okay, he hasn’t given you the full story quite yet.

“that’s only part of my offer, princess,” he starts. “i can read minds, yes, but i can also do…other things.”

oh, you’re really considering it now. maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to let him. his voice is nice, and maybe, just maybe, it’s kind of making you horny. after a deep, long breath, you gulp once, then, with curiosity dripping from your tone, you ask, “...like what?”

jackpot.

beomgyu’s high on a mix of adrenaline and dopamine, utterly giddy because he’s got you right where he wants you, where he needs you. he’s played his cards just right, shoved your worries to the side and drew out your curiosity enough that you’ve taken his bait. perfect, oh, this is perfect. he knew you’d be good for him.

“it would be much easier for me to show you.”

“then show me,” you immediately reply, heat flooding your cheeks at the sheer desperation in your voice. god, calm down. he hasn’t even done anything yet.

chuckling at your internal conflict, he decides not to comment. “tell me if you don’t like something. i’ll stop.” he watches as you slightly nod to yourself, a soft “okay,” echoing through your head and into his — thus, he sets his plan into action. 

something warm caresses your calf, but when you look down, there’s nothing there. your eyes widen — was that a hand? it definitely felt like one, the way it creeped up the back of your leg, calloused fingertips pressing into your skin. a shiver races down your spine. that had to have been him. 

“it was,” he confirms, then his voice is growing impossibly deeper, adopting that gruff edge that you love so much. “you want more, princess? i can give you more.”

another phantom hand skirts over your waist, dragging down over your hips to your right thigh, just to stop there. biting your bottom lip, you nod, hoping that whoever is in your head right now sees it, wherever he is. the hand moves to your inner thigh; despite how tightly pressed together they are, it skirts over your skin with ease, seemingly beneath your trousers. “i need words, pretty girl, or i might just stop right now. and we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

no, you wouldn’t, not at this point. the unbearable ache currently building in your core makes you want to cry; you haven’t felt this level of desperation in a while, and you need to be touched. you need it so fucking bad. 

“please.” the single word comes out meek, quiet. shame flushes your face, a fiery heat that spreads up to your ears and down your neck. 

you hear the way his breath shudders, causing your own hitch. “fuck, you’re so cute, but i need more than that. beg. beg for me to touch you.”

his voice — fuck, his voice is so deep, so dark and wanton. you wonder what he sounds like when he’s moaning, how he would sound if he fucked you, pounded you into the mattress so hard you saw stars. the image of a faceless stranger fucking you from behind, your back arched behind you and your face buried in the sheets, as he holds your wrists behind your back flits across the big screen of your mind. you shake it away, but the man in your head is already tutting. “use your words, sweetheart, not pictures — though i’d love to do that to you too. you’ve got quite the imagination on you.” 

beomgyu’s cock twitches in his boxers as you whine, frantic pleas bubbling up from the deepest, darkest recesses of your mind once he takes the sensation of his hand away from your thigh. you sound halfway dumb already, begging for his hands, his cock, his tongue — anything. you’ll take anything just, “please, sir. please touch me. need you to touch me so bad.”

you don’t even know who he is, yet you’re being so obedient, calling him sir, begging so sweetly for him — it’s like you’re begging straight into his ear. his heart swells at the thought, as does his cock. you sound so pretty, but he finds himself wishing he could hear these words come from your lips instead. 

“yeah? my little slut needs more?” he prods, laughing meanly when you whimper out a yes. “aw, ‘course she does. desperate whores always need more, don’t they? so greedy.”

you have to swallow down a whimper at that, focusing so intently on keeping quiet that your nails have dug into your palms deep enough to almost break skin. the pain seems to help keep you grounded — that is, until you feel the sting of a palm against your backside. you flinch in your seat, gasping sharply. the man sitting next to you glances over, but you only hang your head and shrink into yourself. he looks away. 

“focus, whore. you’re drawing too much attention to yourself.”

two hands are touching you now. one cupping your pussy, the other wrapped around your throat, pressing into the sides of your neck so you start to grow dizzy. the hand on your throat releases its grip to slide down to your chest, circling around one of your nipples before a thumb swipes over the pebbled flesh. your back arches off of your seat when the sensation morphs into that of lips, plush warmth enveloping your tit before the sharp bite of teeth interrupts. you inhale a shaky breath from your nose as lips return to soothe the sting. despite the hard press of your thighs, the hand on your pussy drags up and down your folds, dipping down to your entrance before dragging up to your clit. a tiny squeak sneaks up your throat before you’re masking it with a cough. 

“aren’t you just a sensitive little thing? so wet too,” he coos, shifting his briefcase over his lap to gain some semblance of friction. his fingertips tingle as if your wetness coats them right now. fuck, he’s hard. if it were up to him, you’d be taking his cock right now, moaning so prettily as he presses you up against the wall and fucks up into you, your legs giving out from under you because he’s just making you feel so good, isn’t he? never mind that, he has a job to do. “how about i just…”

two lithe fingers breach your walls while a thumb continues to slowly circle your clit, barely brushing over the sensitive bundle of nerves. you feel like you’re going insane, trying your best to hold still as his fingers begin to move inside you, curling up into your walls. searching, he’s searching for that spot inside you that will get you crying—

then he finds it. 

your knee jerks up, your legs falling open slightly before you’re pressing them closed again as he abuses it over and over again, crooking his fingers just right to find it with each thrust. your hips roll up into the sensation, stilling as soon as you realize that you’re squirming too much, being too obvious. people are starting to stare, calm down. calm the fuck down.

god, you don’t think you can. it’s too difficult to keep still with the way he’s finger-fucking you right now. with the way there’s lips suddenly circling your clit, sucking the pearl in so that his tongue can play with it. little kitten licks that make you want to scream and cry and beg for mercy because you don’t know if you can keep up this front of normalcy with the way he’s touching you.

it’s like he’s speaking directly into your ear right now, warm breath fanning over your earlobe, your cheek. “wanna see you fall apart, wanna see you lose it in front of all of these people, baby. bet you wanna cum right now, yeah? just wanna feel good, don’t even care if you quake and cry in public? you’re that fucking desperate for it?” 

you nod to yourself, eyes squeezing shut. you’re so close. oh god, you’re going to cum. you’re going to cum like a brainless whore in the middle of a fucking subway car. you’re sick. you’re fucking sick for enjoying this.

you’re just as bad as him, beomgyu decides. he knew you’d like what he could give you, he knew you needed him. it was just a matter of time before you realized that fact. that’s okay, because he needs you just as badly. it’s a carnal need, white hot in the center of his stomach — fuck, he’s obsessed with you. he wants you to be his forever. 

and beomgyu knows you’re close, but he’s not quite ready to give you what you want. 

“please, oh god. please let me cum. fuckfuckfuck— no, please don’t stop!” you cry as he slows the pace of his fingers. “please no, ‘m so close! no no no—”

“you drive me crazy, it’s only fair if i return the favor. makes it more fun.” ripping the sensation away from you completely, he watches you bottom lip tremble as you blink back tears, your body melting into your seat as the pleasure fades away. “now, now, don’t cry, sweetheart. i have something even better for you.”

a few seconds pass before something breaches your entrance, your walls stretching to their limit, yet the sting of pain never arrives. filled to the brim, you throw your head back against the window behind you. to others, you seem to just be resting your eyes, but the way your mouth falls open is not lost on beomgyu. he knows you can feel him everywhere, knows you can feel the way the head of his cock nearly touches your cervix, how it presses into every single sensitive spot inside you. he knows he’s big, but you take it like a champ, your hips grinding down into the seat, as if to bring him deeper inside you. what a little whore, his little whore. 

“y’feel that, pretty girl? feel my big fucking cock inside you?” he asks as your chest heaves, a feeble attempt in holding yourself together. “calm down, now. i’m gonna start moving, okay?”

he doesn’t wait for your response before he’s spoon-feeding you the sensation of his cock pulling out until nothing but his cockhead remains within your walls. a few seconds pass, then your begging returns. tearful, this time, fucking pathetic. he basks in the power that rushes through his entire being. you need him. you need him in order to feel good, and he loves that you do. he brings a hand down to adjust himself in his pants, hissing quietly at the ache that the action brings. he needs to fuck you right now. physically fuck you, none of this thought manipulation bullshit — but no, he has to be patient. he can be patient as long as it’s you. 

the subway is slowing down again, and he comes to the gross realization that he only has a few minutes before both of you must depart. dammit, he has to make this quick. 

meanwhile, you’re already halfway to your high just at the mere feeling of him inside you. as soon as his cock begins to move again, you’re choking back moans, head hanging low as your muscles tense and your hands press into your lap. you can feel him in your throat each time he thrusts back in, his thrusts growing faster and faster until he’s pounding into you. 

“fuck fuck fuckkkkk!” you wail, encouraging him to continue. in reality, your walls clench around nothing, but your mind paints a different picture. you almost beg for him to cum inside, but you cant find the words, too fucked out to think about anything else but the knot in your stomach that grows tighter with each passing second. “fuck, please. please, fuck i’m, nghh—”

imaginary fingers swipe across your clit, and you’re a goner. 

thighs quaking, your release coats your panties, walls fluttering, but the movement of his cock doesn’t stop until you’re begging for mercy. beomgyu almost cums in his pants at the depraved wails you emit, half-baked sentences pleading for him to “s-slow down, please. i can’t, no, i can’t — shit!”

finally — finally — he grants you reprieve from the onslaught of pleasure. your body slumps into your seat, your eyes shut as you begin to float back down to earth. the clack-clack-clack of the subway slows until it stops completely. the usual robotic voice announces his stop, but you seem so out of it that you don’t even register that you need to get off. 

“good job, baby. you put on quite the show for me,” he praises as he rises to his feet. luckily, he decided on wearing a longer coat today which he uses to cover up his raging hard-on. this has to be fate.

no response. with an excited gleam in his eye, he disconnects from your mind and moves towards you. looming above you, he drinks in the beads of sweat that have formed along your hairline, the wrinkles in your trousers where you gripped the fabric a wee bit too hard, your dreamy eyes and how they blink down at his black loafers before raising to meet his own. concern has painted itself across his features, his head tilting as he holds your bleary gaze.

“are you alright, miss? you look a bit ill.”

you blink once. twice. god, how are you so cute even after getting fucked so hard? he can barely control himself from blurting out who he is.

“what—what stop is this?” you ask him, eyes wide and red-rimmed from your earlier tears. he tells you, and he watches those same eyes widen. “oh shit, this is my stop!”

attempting to stand, you stumble straight into his chest. he catches you with gentle hands before he’s helping you steady yourself. your legs tremble like those of a newborn fawn, sexy yet terribly adorable. he gulps at the image of you unable to walk, legs so sore that you’re forced to let him dote on you, that forms inside his mind. later. that can come later, don’t get too hasty. 

“oh, you’re a bit shaky there,” he murmurs, a hand curling around you elbow when you stumble again. “are you sure you’re alright?”

“i’m f-fine, sorry for the trouble,” you reply with a polite, yet jittery, smile, stepping away from him. he wants to tell you to come closer again, he wants to smell your sweet perfume again, feel your warm skin beneath his fingertips. 

but good things come to those who wait.

“no worries.” with a charming smile, he shuffles beside you, until the two of you have exited with the rest of the crowd. he catches your wrist before you can get too far, and you turn to face him once more. afterglow looks wonderful on you. “it looks like we’re getting off at the same stop today, so would you like me to walk with you until you’re feeling a bit better? i’m sure some fresh air will do you good.”

you pause for a moment, hesitating. have you seen him somewhere before? you feel like you have. “i…that would be great, actually. thank you.”

“of course,” he nods, holding back a smirk. he can’t help the words that escape him next.

“lead the way, then…pretty girl.”

the way you look back at him with alarmed realization — even a hint of fear — causes a grin to split open his lips. you begin to sputter as you back away, but he merely follows with light, casual steps. “w-what, who—who are you—”

his smile grows knife-sharp. the door opens — it always does. 

“aw, c’mon, sweetheart,” he coos inside your mind, biting his lip as he watches your knees buckle. “who else could it be?”

© to agustdiv1ne. do not copy, repost, steal, and/or translate.

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch. 9

WandaNat x Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Ch.Notes: emotional turmoil, jealousy

Summary: After last night's events things only grow more complicated between Wanda, Natasha, and the reader.

An: So... I have blown through all of the pre-drafted parts I have for this and am now writing in real time the goal is to do post every monday but bare with me if I slip up.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

The smell of coffee is the first thing to enter your sense as you stir from your place in the bed. You can't move much as your legs are tangled with someone else’s. You can feel soft breaths tickling your face. Your brow creases, but you make no other movements.

There’s a slight shift in the bed, and that's when you begin to feel a finger dragging itself along your collarbone. It’s gentle as it draws patterns lightly tracing up your neck and jaw. A thumb ghosts over your lips, but you stay still.

“Even after this life has been so cruel to you, and you've grown this hard outer shell; your skin feels so soft. So pretty under my touch.”

You are fully awake, but something stops you from opening your eyes. Instead you scoot closer to the woman and pull her body closer to yours. Your arm flexes as you hold her in place.

“Enjoying the cuddling?” Natasha’s voice enters the room.

“She’s so peaceful like this, I don’t want to wake her,” Wanda shifts in your hold.

She maneuvers so that she's sitting up right in the bed. Your head falls into her lap, and her hands start running through your hair.

“We have to, I’ve heard from Pietro that people are already being made aware of the oil spill. They’re scrambling, he’s already at the office with Kate taking orders.”

You hear Wanda sigh, “This is nice, it almost feels domestic.”

Natasha laughs lightly, “Yes, having your wife bring you and your lover coffee, screams domestic.”

“She’s not my lover, Natasha,” Wanda’s voice sounds harsh.

It takes everything to keep your body from tensing as you listen into this conversation you aren't directly involved in.

“It’s a joke baby,” you can almost hear the smirk on the woman’s face.

“Jokes are supposed to be funny Natasha,” she deadpans.

“I agree there's nothing funny about you being in love with Y/n.”

You hear shuffling and then a quick thud as Wanda throws something at Natasha. By her exasperated sigh you can tell Natasha caught it.

“Can we save this discussion for… I don’t know, when Y/n isn’t laying in my lap,” Wanda says defensively.

“Fine, but the last thing I’m going to say is your taste in women is 10 out of 10,” Natasha chuckles.

“Fuck you,” Wanda can’t help but laugh as her wife exits the room.

Wanda refocus her attention back to you, “We have a big day ahead of us little krolik and unfortunately it starts now.”

She shakes you gently and calls your name a few times. You pretend to wake up. The sight of Wanda in the morning is something entirely ethereal. You can’t help but stare at the woman. Especially after what you heard this morning.

Your intense gaze makes the woman shift and clear her throat, “Natasha made coffee for us.”

You laugh a little, your voice groggy from sleep, “Sounds like a good thing to wake up too.”

“It can’t hurt, we have a busy day ahead of us,” she says getting out of the bed.

“Your bed is like 10 times more comfortable than mine,” you sink further into the mattress.

Natasha enters the room, “Glad to hear you slept well.”

There’s something grateful about the look you give the spy, “Thank you for that. Both of you.”

“The door is always open for you lisichka,” Natasha smiles warmly back.

With much reluctance you get out of the bed. Your feet shuffle across the bedroom floor and you scratch your head, suddenly becoming more aware of the fact that you aren’t in your home.

“I guess I should go get ready at my place,” you say stretching.

“We’ll meet you over there and head to work together, ok?”

You agree to these terms and make your way home. When you get there the composure that you usually carry yourself with slips.

The brief conversation that played out between the married couple echoed in the walls of your mind. It was a joke, that’s what Natasha said in the beginning. However after claiming Wanda was in love with you, it didn't sound like a joke anymore.

Wanda is a married woman. You know this and you’d feel confident in saying that the marriage is a happy one. Natasha is good for her, better than you could ever be. Wanda being in love with you wouldn’t make sense.

As you get ready for work it’s nearly all you can think about. Every moment where you hugged each other for too long, where her hand would find it’s way in yours, where the two of refused to break eye contact was now floating in your head.

It was hard not to romanticize it, you had feelings for Wanda since you were a teenager, and now you are being told she feels the same.

It's a heavy feeling that sits in your stomach. Every part of your being wishes it could be joy, but it’s sorrow and dread. The other accompanying thought with this revelation is, Natasha.

The woman was amazing in her own right. She deserves the same love, attention, and kindness that Wanda does. You refuse to be a home wrecker. Their love it’s organic, it’s feels true. It was enough for Wanda to bring home a wife, knowing her family wouldn’t approve. There wasn’t a reality where you’d let her throw that away.

Your thoughts don’t get to consume you any longer when the doorbell rings. You put on a face of determination as you leave your home with Wanda and Natasha.

Once you’re at the office everything seems more hectic than usual. The three of you are all whisked away in different directions, answering to the influx of calls.

The sheer volume of people you have on your line, startles you a bit as initially you thought this would be enhance the unlawful business practices, but it has also benefited the business used as a front.

This might’ve been a million dollar move. However, it truly wasn’t about the money. The supply for the family was endless. It was to regain control of the city and to assure them whether Dragos was in charge or not the Maximoff’s would be running this city.

The victory is bittersweet as thoughts of Dragos invade your mind. He should be here celebrating with you all yet he lay still in a hospital bed, using machines you couldn’t name to help him breathe. With Flora likely sitting there with him, tremendous sorrow on her shoulders and the wish that he would wake up so she could scold him.

There were bigger things to worry about aside from what you had heard this morning. The health of your father figure, the health of the business, preparing for a war, there was no room for your feelings right now and you accepted it.

“Alright, it’s time for you to go on break,” Kate knocks on your office door before allowing herself in.

“Too busy,” you mumble typing away at your computer.

“I brought you lunch, meaning you have to atop working to eat it,” Kate plops down a bag on your desk.

The smell fills your nose, making your mouth water and stomach growl. You sigh moving your keyboard out of the way to open the bag of food.

“Thanks Katie,” you say before munching on a french-fry.

“No problem, how are you holding up?”

You stretch a bit, “It’s been nonstop in both businesses. I’ve got to be careful not to mix them up as I write the orders. I’m a bit stressed, but I think this is a good stress.”

“And outside of work?”

Your face drops, “I’m barely holding on to be honest. Constantly worried about Dragos, but not just him; Flora, Wanda, Pietro, all of them. I feel so helpless, I haven’t felt this way since I was a child.”

“Y/n-”

“I feel like I’m failing, Kate. We’re fighting against a war, but it’s inevitable at this point. There’s no way Kingpin is going to take this lying down. We can’t afford to lose, but I don’t think any of us are prepared to fight.”

Kate takes your hand in hers causing you to gaze into her eyes. There’s a fire there, one that you forgotten lived inside the assistant.

“Y/n, whatever happens this family will not fall. Others might have alliances, weapons, and political power, but what every single one of them lacks is loyalty. We have people on the outside switch sides, but everyone in this building is here for the long haul. We stand by each other no matter how hard it gets. Maybe you’re right, we’re not prepared for a war right now, but we will be. You aren’t alone in this Y/n, you have a family… thee family backing you.”

She’s right and you know it. It’s a hard a reality to swallow in the sense that with or with Dragos the Maximoff’s don’t have a choice but to win. They will win, but what will be lost on the way to victory. The longer you’re in the position you understand what they mean when they say heavy is the head that wears the crown.

“Something else is bothering you. I can tell,” Kate’s voice is soft when she speaks, snapping you from your thoughts.

You can feel the tip of your ears heat at her question, but you try to play it safe, “It isn’t important and I don’t think it will ever be. We have bigger things to worry about.”

Kate rolls her eyes at you, “You’re right about having bigger things to worry about. Things that you are clearly being distracted from by what’s on your mind. So as your best friend it’s my job to sit here and press you for answers until you tell me.”

It's your turn to roll your eyes, “Can we just drop this, my food is getting cold?”

“There’s a microwave somewhere in this building,” Kate took a seat at the edge of your desk, her hand still in yours.

“You aren't going to let this go are you?”

She shakes her head a little, “Nope.”

You take your free hand and place it over your face, “I heard Natasha say that Wanda is in love with me.”

“Oh my god. Y/n that’s- what’re you going to do?”

“Nothing, I’m not going to do anything.”

Kate’s eyes widen, “Why would she say that? Did she sound mad? How did you hear this? What if she is in love with you? How would you-”

“Enough!” You raise you voice at the girl and she stops.

“Sorry, but this is crazy.”

You sigh, “I know.”

“Do you love her?”

Your eye hit the floor immediately, “I’ve had a crush on Wanda for as long as I can remember. She’s seen me at my lowest, but found value in me nonetheless. Even after all these years she just makes me feel safe and I would do anything for her.”

“But…”

“But she's married to one of the most intriguing women that I've ever met. Someone I know who feels like I do. Someone who takes good care of her and can be there for her in ways that I can’t. They’re the perfect couple. They both truly deserve each other and I refuse to put myself between them.”

It is fully intended to sound strong, but by the end of it you can feel your eyes start to water. You do your best to hold it in but tears start to fall.

“Fuck,” you attempt to cover your face but Kate just pulls you to her by your office chair.

Her hands rests on your face wiping at the tears. You lean into her touch as she begins to rub your back.

“It’s alright, you’re alright,” Kate speak gently.

There’s a soft knock on your office door that gets you to straighten up. The walls are glass so you’re aware that they could see what was transpiring.

“Is everything ok in here?” Natasha let’s herself in, knowing the answer to her question.

You look to Kate, who then looks to Natasha, “Do you want to take over?”

Natasha gives a curt nod. You watch Kate walk out of the office closing the curtains on the way out so no one could see inside. She tells you to call her at the end of your day and you make a mental note to do so.

“Lisichka, talk to me,” she takes Kates previous position. She reaches to wipe the tears from your eyes, but you flinch away.

“I’m fine,” your voice dies as you speak.

“I think we both know that’s not true.”

You glare at her, but then your eyes soften, “I’m just overwhelmed Nat.”

“Maybe it's your turn to go home early n" she suggest.

“I have to stop by the hospital before I go home.”

Natasha hesitates, “I don't think you're in the right space to be there.”

“Someone has to go check on Flora and Dragos,” you stand firm.

“Wanda and I will go,” Natasha says.

You debate for a second on telling Natasha what you heard. You wonder how she would react. However you could never do that to her , not like when she’s looking at you like this. This is the second time in 24 hours that Natasha has been there for you in a time of need.

“Lisichka?”

“I- I’ll see if Kate can take me home,” you abruptly stand from your desk.

You don’t get far before Natasha is wrapping you up in her arms. You melt in her hold, she smells good, her arms are strong. She kisses the top of your head.

“Let me know when you’re home safe, ok? We’ve got everything under control here.”

You nod before heading off in the direction of Kate’s office. When you get to her door she’s on call and you debate leaving, but when she sees you she ends the call.

“Y/n-"

“Can you take me home, please. I know I could ask Clint, but I just-”

Kate cuts you off, “Of course, let’s go.”

You stay close to Kate as you leave the office. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda watches the two of you exit. She heads to your office to find her wife in your chair.

“What happened to Y/n?”

Natasha sighs, “I don't know she wouldn't tell me. I saw Kate sitting on the desk and wiping her tears away so I stepped in. She said she was overwhelmed, but there had to be more to it. I told her to go home.”

“I just saw her leaving with Kate,” Wanda adds.

“She said she’d ask Kate to take her,” Natasha explains.

“I could've taken her,” Wanda says with worry in her voice.

Natasha shakes her head, “You have a business to run and I promised Y/n we’d stop by the hospital after work.”

“I wish she would’ve seen me before she left,” Wanda’s upset, but she contains it well.

“Jealous of Kate?” Natasha tries to tease, but there’s something in her tone that Wanda detects.

“Are you jealous of Kate?” Wanda throws the question back at her wife.

Natasha gaze lingers on her hands, “What if I was?”

Wanda carefully straddles Natasha’ lap in the work chair. She buries her head into the crook of Natasha’s neck before mumbling into the soft skin.

“Then we’d both be jealous.”

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst @dorabledewdroop @sapphic-simp4015 @natty-taffy @justarandomreaderxoxo @mmmmokdok @tarathia @bgwlsmahf25

[oncasette]

FANGTASIA. send in a character from my guide + one of the prompts below for a drabble!

OK LAST ONE I PROMISE. but you know I had to send in a theseus request so … theseus + "You think I like being like this? Every time someone fucking touches you I want to rip their hands off!" teehee 😋

'𝗖𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨'𝗥𝗘 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗔 𝗠𝗔𝗡 (𝗜𝗧'𝗦 𝗝𝗨𝗦𝗧 𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗗𝗢)

theseus scamander x fem!reader

summary: 1.7k

“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.

or the one where theseus can't stand your secretary.

warnings: none that i can think of, semi-possessive theseus?

masterlist 

He was just your secretary. That’s what you keep telling yourself. And Theseus. All he does is your filing and allow people entry into your office. And bring you your morning coffee without you needing to ask for it, with the exact amount of cream and sugar you take without you ever having told him in the past. 

Of course, this was just him being excellent at his job, it was why you’d kept him on for so long. There was a quick turnover rate for secretaries at the ministry. A year or two, at most, before they were either fired by their respective bosses or they left to pursue a field they were actually passionate about. But not Richard. No, you’d been working with Richard for the better part of five years. Long before you’d ever met your now boyfriend–if you could even call him that, only having been on a dozen or so dates at this point. Not that the question hadn’t been on the tip of his tongue since the first time you batted your eyelashes at him. 

That didn’t stop Theseus from clenching his jaw every morning when he stopped by to say hello only to find your secretary to have abandoned his post outside your office in favor of holing up in your loveseat and carrying on with whatever annoyingly dull topic of conversation he’d chosen to occupy your time with. It didn’t stop him from rolling his eyes at the way his hand lingered over yours as he dropped off the accounts you needed that afternoon during your lunch break, little more than a glance cast askew at him as he sat beside you. It didn’t stop him from biting his tongue so hard it bled each time you brought Richard up in the evenings when he walked you out of the building.

No, it didn’t matter how long you’d worked with the man. Theseus knew a crush when he saw one. 

“What’s wrong, love? You’ve been tense all day,” you say, gently placing a hand onto his shoulder. He’d been sitting in your office for a little over an hour, his work day having already drawn to a close but you’d had to finish up a last minute assignment your boss had thrown on your desk fifteen minutes before you were supposed to leave. Theseus hadn’t minded waiting.

“Nothing,” he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Richard had been especially irritating that day. He’d barely had five minutes alone with you before you’d forced your secretary to go home once the clock hit six. 

“I can hear you sulking over there. C’mon,” you urge as you watch him out of your periphery. He closed his eyes before he exhaled slowly. Deeply, forcing all of the air out of his lungs in the hopes that his foul mood would exit with it. He didn’t want to be like this. He didn’t want to hate your secretary, to be the possessive guy that never let his partner speak to another man, but it was starting to eat away at him. It was a lot easier to lose you when he didn’t fully have you, yet.

“It’s nothing, lovely. Promise,” he says. At the very least, having this time with you was beginning to dull the headache that had formed earlier in the day. He thinks it started when Richard had once again waltzed into your office during your lunch hour with the hopes of taking you out to the bakery a couple blocks away. 

“Okay,” you drawl, eyebrows drawn together. 

It’s then that Theseus notices the parchment stuck to your desk lamp. It was a charmed doodle, one that poorly illustrated a man with smoke shooting out of his ears sitting at a desk played on a loop. To keep you company while you work - Rich. Of course.

“You ready?” you ask, shuffling around documents and files on your desk to deal with on Monday when you return before grabbing your bag off the ground and slipping your coat on. You circle around the furniture in your office to stand in front of Theseus. He ran a firm hand across his brow bone as he stood to meet you. He leans forward to place a chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth as he nods. 

It’s hard to ignore how stiff he’s become.

“Are we still good for dinner at yours tonight?” you ask. 

“Of course,” he hums. He wasn’t going to let this ruin the one of the few evenings a week he got to spend with you. Or, at least, he was going to try to not let it ruin it. 

Once he was sure you’d both collected the remainders of your belongings, he takes your hand in his to apparate the two of you to his flat. Since you weren’t going back to your place, he didn’t feel the need to walk the two of you all the way across the ministry just to disapparate from there. He only did that to spend a couple extra minutes with you, anyway. 

It’s only the second time you’ve been to his place, but the short wave of nausea prevents you from feeling too overwhelmingly nervous about it. You set your bag beside the door before you move to the kitchen to sit and let the urge to vomit begin to dissipate. Theseus smooths a palm over down your arm as he slides up behind you. 

He leans down to whisper in your ear. His nose brushes against your cheek. “Can I get you anything?”

“Maybe a penny…” you trail off.

“A penny?” he huffs amused.

“For your thoughts,” you say.

“I told you it was nothing.”

“Darling, I know something’s wrong. I want to help if I can,” you say, tilting your head back enough to look at his face. He bends again to kiss your forehead. It’s tender, sweet. Nearly domestic. 

“It’s just work stress, I guess,” he says. He wasn’t technically lying. 

“I’m sorry,” you hum, bringing a hand up to smooth across his cheek for a second. “Do you want to talk about it? It might help if you get some of it off your chest.”

“I wouldn’t want to burden you, love,” he says as he begins to move away from your chair. He meanders around the small kitchen as he starts to gather the things he needs to cook dinner. You hardly notice as he charms the cutting board to dice vegetables for him. 

“It wouldn’t be a burden. Richie’s always telling me about the kinds of things that bother him at the office,” you say. Theseus’ jaw clenches. With his suit coat already having been slung across the couch in the living room, he’s quick to roll his button-down sleeves up to his elbows. 

“Fucking Richard,” he mutters. It’s so quiet you almost miss it. Your brows raise. He runs a palm over his jaw, resisting the urge to bite down on one of his fingers. 

“This is about him?”

“What?” he asks as he turns away from you to grab noodles from his pantry. The first time he’d asked about Richard had been harmless. A one-off question at the end of your evening when he’d been walking you back to your flat. A question you’d answered simply. He’s just your secretary. Then he’d asked again. A second and a third time. 

“This. Your… mood. It’s about him, isn’t it?” you ask. You’re attempting to sound understanding, but you know there’s an edge to your tone. He doesn’t elicit an answer. “I thought I told you he wasn’t anything to worry about. He works for me.”

“I know,” he grumbles. 

“Then what’s this about, hm?” you ask, standing from your chair and moving into his space. 

“It’s just.” He’s cracking, slightly. He hates that he’s allowed himself to get affected by something so trivial. “He’s always there.”

“You’ve got yourself in a fit because my secretary comes into my office during work hours?”

“It’s the way he is around you, you know? He’s always around, always touching or trying to touch. You should see the way he looks at you,” he huffs. The box in his hand drops onto the counter suddenly, his hands following as he pushes his weight against them. 

“Thes-” you start. 

“You think I like being like this? You think it’s something I want? To be so angry and aggravated about something that I can’t control? That you can’t control?” he asks. “Everytime he touches you I want to rip his fucking hands off.”

You step behind him, winding your arms around his middle until he’s stood straight again. His hands find yours and interweave between your fingers. 

“It’s not you,” he sighs. “Well, I mean, it is you. I don’t see how there isn’t a single man left in the world not wrapped tight around your finger.”

You press a kiss between his collarbones. He relaxes into your hold. 

“I don’t want Richard,” you say.

“I know.”

“I want you.”

“I want you, too, darling.”

“But I also want you to talk to me,” you say as you urge him to turn to face you with a tap of your fingers against his torso. “I’ll talk to him. I can’t say I haven’t noticed him being a little closer to me than some of the other secretaries have been with their bosses, because I have. So, I’ll talk to him. But, I need you to talk to me, too.”

His forehead falls forward until it’s pressed against yours. 

You continue, “I need you to tell me when stuff like this bothers you. You can’t just be all angry at the world and do nothing about it and expect it all to change. Okay?”

“I can do that,” he hums. 

“Good,” you nod. 

“Good.”

“You also need to remember that I’m a grown-up and I can handle myself, too, right? Just because another man may or may not have his eyes on me doesn’t mean I’m going to go running off into the sunset with him,” you say. A soft laugh rumbles in his chest, his eyes crinkling with a soft smile at the sides. 

“Alright,” he says. 

“Now,” you say. “What’s for dinner?”

[ghostfacebunny]

ok but,,, imagine task force 141 using their favorite free use rookie soldier as stress relief after a mission

m!reader, NSFW, minors DNI

-- ༺ -- ༻--

Wondering what you could have possibly done for the Captain to be requesting you directly, you took a deep breath before knocking at the door to Price's office.

As you are invited in, your worry only increases. Standing before you is the entirety of task force 141. However, their usually stoic gazes were replaced by something different. Urgency? Frustration? No, that wasn't right. The way they looked you up and down mimicked that of a pack of wolves ready to devour their prey. Hunger. Then it clicked.

This was by no means a tactical call.

Just as the lightbulb goes off in your pretty little head you're being bent over the Captain's desk with your pants and boxers pulled down to your ankles. The smell of sweat, blood and dirt are still fresh on the four eager mens' uniforms, clouding your senses as they gather around you.

“Take the captain's cock like a good boy, yeah?” Gaz instructs holding you still so that Price could thrust into you with ease. You open your mouth to whine but Johnny quickly silences you, making you gag and your eyes water as his cock hits the back of your throat.

“Fuckin' hell, he’s making a mess already” Simon teases holding up his hand so that the boys can see his pre-cum stained glove.

The guys would take turns cumming inside you and tugging on your painfully overstimulated cock until they had fucked every last pent up emotion into you.

-- ༺ -- ༻--

a/n: aaaaa this is my first time posting my writing so I rewrote this like 75 times. I am so sick of looking at this so here it is ndjkndk

[lionizingheathen]

Masterlist By Character - Updated 8.21.24

I DO TAKE REQUESTS

Draco Malfoy

Miscommunication

Edging Sub!Draco after you catch him flirting with someone else in public

Precious

Draco finding release after a day in the office

Request

"Domdraco smut please??? I mean maybe with handcuffs and some kinks?"

Ginny Weasley

Take It Out On Me

Helping Ginny unwind from a stressful quidditch practice

Ron Weasley

Take it

"Are you sure you can handle it, baby?" Ron visiting his long distance girlfriend

Request

Hey, can you do an scenario with you and Ron Weasley under a blanket around your friends watching a movie and Ron decides to finger you quietly without anyone knowing?

Sirius Black

Quickly Now

Sirius hooking up with his best friend

Prove It

Sirius eating out his FWB

Just for You

Giving Sirius a handjob in front of friend

Request

"I really need jealous fwb Sirius after that last fic, I NEED it"

Request

"hey im new to your blog but I LOVE the way you write sirius, could we have more sirius content pLEAES (soft, dark, fluff, smut, ANYTHING you can give us pleaseee🥺🥺🥺)"

Request

"Anything with FWB!Sirius Black PLEASE!"

Request

"This is my first time making a request but can you do more of fwb Sirius x reader pleaseee I love your writing btw!! Thank youu"

Hermione Granger

Quietly

Fucking Hermione in the stacks of the library

Lily Evans

Roses

Eating Lily Evans out

Relax

Strapwarming Lily Evans

James Potter

Everything

Making boyfriend James Potter be rough with you for the first time

Think About It

Giving James a blowjob

Request

"james potter smut!! i love ur writing sm"

Request

"Please I need to see you writing something with dbf!James Potter (I would be so happy if you add some size kink too)"

Request

jealous fwb sirius but what about jealous fwb james???

Request

"love ur writing!! can I request riding james potter plssss"

Remus Lupin

We Always Have Time

Remus taking you against a wall

Agreement

Giving your flatmate, Remus Lupin a blowjob to help him relax

Request

"can you do a part 2 from Flatmate!Remus Lupin? Thank you <3"

Request

"Angsty request. Post! James and Lily’s death, reader/oc was Sirius’s girlfriend/fiancé but feels lost after his arrest. All she has left is Remus and they… uh… work off post-war stress with each other."

Regulus Black

Request

"you are the best smut writer i’ve ever come across im literally speechless. can you write more about sirius fwb or maybe even regulus i will take anything you write omg."

Pansy Parkinson

You've Earned it

Sub!Pansy Parkinson x DomFem!Reader

Harry James Potter

Request

"if you write for harry potter can you do harry potter smut? i love your fics :)"

Request

"umm face riding with harry?? pleaseee"

Luna Lovegood

Love me

First time sleeping with Luna Lovegood

Group

Request

"OK NOW I CANT STOP THINKING OF REMUS ACTUALLY LETTING SIRIUS (plus james maybe) HAVE A GO WHILE WATCHING HHHNGGGF??!??"

[jmtorres]

i just saw a post about how we just have to "live with" covid and wanting more protections from our government is unreasonable because we'll never wipe it out, it jumps species and is in all sorts of animal populations (like, true ok) so why even try to

and apparently the argument was aimed at people (who I haven't seen in the wild) who are arguing we should still be in lockdown. and i have mixed feelings about the idea of extended lockdown or attenuating isolations; but my main feeling at this point is not that the government should keep us apart but that the government should be trying to make it safer for us to be together

things the government could/should be doing about covid:

we know that ventilation/air movement helps a shitton. we should be incentivizing upgrades to ventilation systems in all public buildings with shit like rebates or tax deductions, while phasing in eventual legal requirements. (and uh. it has occurred to me that the US might actually be doing this sideways by there's currently this decade enormous tax incentives in re energy efficient upgrades for slowing climate change and you know. energy efficient hvac does tend to improve ventilation. extra point to biden here.)

mandatory paid sick leave so workers aren't under social or economic pressure to work when sick

passing out RT-LAMP tests like metrix that actually work instead of the rapid antigen tests that have become less and less reliable as the virus mutates

i don't know how you'd write this law but like 95% or more of computer-based work can be done remotely and companies should not be allowed to force people to return to the office. I know there's people who want to be back in person and I'm not saying they should be forced to stay home but ffs I know of at least two people CLOSE to me who worked remotely before the pandemic and at some point their workplaces tried to tell them they weren't allowed to do that anymore despite the pre-existing contracts. stop canceling remote work for people that want, need, or prefer it.

for that matter, every college lecture that was an online class during covid should still be offered as an online class, there is no reason to force students into auditoriums in person. you got the communications infrastructure up and running, why are you tearing it down. give people the OPTION. it increases accessibility for everyone!

covid vaccine immunity lasts about four months. this should be well-publicized and everyone should be able to re-up for free every four months. "every year, like the flu vaccine" is demonstrably not often enough. actually "for free" isn't good enough start handing out $10 gift cards you will be shocked at how many people who are resistant to the idea of vaccines will fold for $10 a shot

are there already laws on the books about masks in medical settings that some medical professionals are blatantly ignoring because they forgot what best practices were before the plague and they're 'tired of masking'? if not, pass laws. if so, fucking enforce them

oh another incentives for upgrades phasing into legal requirements thing: brass doorknobs and railings over stainless steel or whatever. microbes do not survive on brass surfaces

i mean. i know this one sounds too extreme to a lot of people but. UBI.

most if not all of these measures will prevent or ameliorate other pandemics of different diseases that may arise in the future. and just. generally improve our health and quality of life for other reasons.

I haven't felt safe to go to a concert since 2020. Maybe if I knew a venue was legally required to have ventilation to a certain standard and that none of the ticket takers and ushers were on the job sick to avoid risking loss of paycheck or job, and knew a larger percentage of the crowd had up to date vaccinations--maybe if any or all that, I might ever feel comfortable going to a show again.

wouldn't it be nice if those of us who have been disabled, by covid or other conditions, had accessible remote options but also occasionally felt safe enough to interact with and participate in wider society?

one of the arguments on the post I saw was how isolation was massively psychologically damaging and various strata of society were affected in all sorts of ways, from undersocialized kids to increased depression in--well across the board, I think. and here's the thing: WE KNOW. PEOPLE WITH CHRONIC HEALTH CONDITIONS, LONG COVID OR OTHERWISE, KNOW ISOLATION SUCKS REAL BAD. because we, both for our own health and due to disability ostracism, are still isolating and isolated more than most.

what are you as individuals or societies, what are our governments, doing to help make it safe and accessible to rejoin you????

[m-artemisa-c]

Lucky night

Pairing: Lando Norris x f!reader

This is an (18+) story which means if you are a minor, you are not allowed to interact.

......................................................................................................................

So this is the first time Im posting something, I was little bored and decided to write one of my many sex fantasies haha english is not my first language so sorry in advance for the grammar errors etc....i don't know if anyone would read this but if you do I hope you enjoy it <3

“Can you please send me the quotations we received today? I already asked you this twice, please focus more on your duties!”  –  I heard Derek, my manager from the other side of the corridor... what an ass... 

The truth is that I’ve been out of my mind for a while, unable to focus on any task. It’s been overwhelming, I must say, a new job, new apartment, new people, and a new city to discover or that’s what I thought. It looks like Monaco is as small as my little hometown, it took me only a week to “discover” my new home. Impressive?  Yes, I would never imagine being here, but I’m not sure I’m going to fit in with all these petulant and fancy people. Everyone seems like some kind of famous shitty person. 

“Do I have to send you a reminder? Or are you going to do the job you are being paid to do? “ – It looks like being a needy asshole is a required skill if you want to be a manager – “I just sent them to you, I also attached the price analysis I made for these suppliers”

For the last 8 years, I worked for an automotive company, it was my first job when I graduated from business school. I started as a trainee for the quality staff and after a year the logistics supervisor asked me if I was interested in joining his team, after some years I got promoted to the sales area. 

I was happy and grateful for the job I had; I'd make enough money to pay my rent and to provide my cat Murphy with all the toys and food he needed to be happy. My life was good or that’s what I thought. 

“There is nothing attached to the mail you sent…” – Derek screamed from his office - “Fuck! You need to stop now “- I screamed to myself. 

“Is everything ok with you? I know you just moved here two weeks ago” – I turned my face and saw my coworker Mike approaching me from his desk – “Ohhh... I’m..Yes, I’m ok thanks. I’m still getting used to my new life haha “ - I responded awkwardly, I turned my face again to my computer screen making sure to attach the files this time and send the email... again. I’ve only been working here for one week and Derek already thinks I’m retarded. 

“Do you have plans for later? We can go for a drink or two” – I turned my face to Mike – “Ammm .. I...mm sure, why not? Having some drinks sounds like a plan to me “ – I reply with a smile on my face – “Nice! So, you tell me when you are done with work, and we will leave. I know a nice restaurant with a stunning view. I’m sure you will love It” – he said as he headed back to his desk. 

One of the main reasons I accepted this job was because I felt something was missing in my life. And when I say “something” I mean sex...sweaty, passionate, and unholy sex.  It’s been 5 years since the last time I had slept with somebody... a guy I met on Tinder... a total disaster.  And after that, I decided I had enough shitty sex and  I spoiled myself... I bought my first sex toy. I named him Timmy because I have a crush on Timothée Chalamet, so since Timmy arrived, I’ve been a happy woman with plenty of orgasms. 

I love Timmy? Yes! no doubt about that, I would never imagine I was able cum so many times in one night, but I cannot deny I want to feel the heat of a dicks men while he is drilling my pussy, I want to feel how his tongue travel all over my body and praise me for being a good girl because  I ride him all night. 

It might sound kind of pathetic that a “grown woman” like me wants to be called a “good girl” but let’s be honest, being 30 is a nice age... That’s what I say to myself when I feel like I’m too old to try to flirt with men or go out. What a disaster! When I was 23, I was way bolder than now, I remember how I used to enter the clubs, knowing exactly which guy I wanted. The flirting game was so fun. Guys trying to get closer to me and dance while they ground their bodies with my ass, grabbing me by the waist and caressing my skin, saying sweet lies to my ear ... good days ...

“So, are we ready?” – Mike’s voice snapped my thoughts. I looked at my clock and realized I  spent 2 hours thinking about my younger years... a nice way to show Derek I’m not retarded – “Uhhh...I just need to send some emails. I will see you in the lobby if that’s ok with you “- Mike nods his head with a smile while he heads to the elevators. 

Maybe tonight is my lucky night, maybe instead of daydreaming about my younger years I need to lose control and show Mike the whore inside of me... – “We need to schedule a meeting with the coil supplier for next Monday and I need to know the amount we have been paying to our broker for these operations. That’s all for today, I expect you to be ready for the meeting “ – my manager said with an annoyed look before leaving my desk. God I need Timmy right now, maybe I can bring him with me and lock myself in the bathroom when I feel angry. I set up the meetings and headed to the elevators to meet Mike. 

While waiting for the elevators I couldn’t stop thinking about Mike and my lucky night. I know I said I was a flirty master when I was younger but now? Hahaha I am a complete loser, I don’t know how to talk with men. How am I going to seduce Mike? He is way more attractive than me, a good-looking man. If I had to guess I would say he is 35, has a nice body, and a charming smile... “Over here!” -  Mike raised his hand and I greeted him with a smile – “Sorry, I hope you don’t mind waiting for me “– I said - “It was only 15 minutes don’t worry. My car is over here “– he put his hand on my back – “Do you seriously drive to the office?” – I looked at him with a surprised face – “Well yes, don’t you?” – he replied – “No haha it's only a 20 min walk from my apartment to the office. I like to walk. It's a nice way to start the day” – it's true, walking is nice, and it feels stupid to drive such a short distance...this is what I mean when I say I’m not sure I’m going to fit here.

We arrived at a nice luxurious restaurant. This is not what I had in mind when Mike said we would go out for drinks, but the view was amazing, just like he promised. Don’t ramble! Remember your lucky night, Mike wouldn’t suggest drinks if he wasn’t attracted to me in some way, right? There is only one reason a man would suggest drinks... Maybe I need some alcohol so I can let myself lose and have fun ... – “Bonjour, je voudrais commander quelque chose à boire? “– the waitress asked and all I could do was look at Mike with a confused look- “He asked if you wanted something to drink “– Mike said with a childish smile – “Oh! Tequila for me please “ – I said as I looked at the waitress- “How come you moved to a city and don’t speak the language?” – Mike asked with an intriguing look – “Ummm well, I didn’t know I was moving until I had to move here haha It was kind of messy, at first the job offer was to be the intermediary between the company and the suppliers. No need for relocation, just weekly meetings but then I got a better offer due to my experience so here I am, completely lost. I’m going to learn how to speak French, people here are kinda pissed if you speak in English all the time ...Maybe you can teach me “– I suggested with a flirty look... or at least that was what I thought I was doing – “Sure! I moved here 3 years ago so I can teach you some basic sentences haha”

Drinks finally arrived and after 1 hour I could feel how tequila was making me forget about my insecurities, now was the time to suggest Mike take me home and maybe invite him another drink. Wait, I need to change my underwear into a nice set of lingerie... Do I even have lingerie? The last time I remember I bought sexy underwear was when I was dating my ex-boyfriend from university, well maybe I can improvise with some thong and a nice bra. 

Alcohol and overthinking don’t get along, take note! While I was deep in my thoughts, I ignored what my new friend Mike said – “Ready to go?” – Mike asked –” Go where?” – I said intrigued – “To my place “- he gave me a confused look -” I asked if you wanted to have some drinks at my apartment. Did you change your mind? “– oh shit... it is happening. Finally, my lucky night is happening – “Sorry, I just feel a little tipsy from the alcohol haha let’s go!”

The drive to Mike’s apartment was fun, he was talking about his favorite spots in Monaco and I was completely lost daydreaming about all the sex I was going to get, while adjusting to my seat I felt how wet my pussy was. My god, I'm so nervous, do I have to make the first move? or should I just let him take control of the situation?

“Babe! I’m so glad you are finally here! “– a beautiful woman said as she came close to Mike and kissed him – “I'm sorry to be late sweetie, we had a couple of drinks before work. I want to introduce you to my new coworker; she moved here two weeks ago, and I thought it would be nice to invite her to our open house so she can meet new people. This is Florence, my girlfriend, she’s from Monaco, she can help you with anything you need. Right, babe? “– I was in shock; all I could do was smile stupidly - “Bienvenue à Monaco ma chère! It's a pleasure to meet you. Mike told me you were having a tough time adjusting here. I'm so glad he suggested this, and as he said I’m here to help you if you need something “– Florence said as she smiled at me. 

What was I thinking? Of course, he is not attracted to me at all, he was only trying to be nice with the new coworker - “Can I offer you a drink? What would you like? We have wine, gin , tequila” - Florence asked me - “Mmm I'm already a little drunk so a glass of water would be nice. I mmm where is the bathroom? “- 

As I head to the bathroom I regret every choice I made for the last month. This was a mistake, everything was a mistake, what was I thinking? I don't belong here, I can quit my job and go back home. My boss hates me and I just embarrassed myself with the only “friend” I made. As I wash my face I decide that it would be better if I just go home. 

“Hey … mmm …I …  am sorry but I don't feel well, I guess I'm not used to drinking alcohol anymore haha I should leave now before I make something I regret” - I said -” Wait what ? When I told you about the party you said you would love to come, what happened?” - Mike asked - “Yeah yeah , I was excited about it but you know I forgot to feed my cat in the morning, he must be starving now. I need to go. Sorry” - I said as I grabbed my purse - “Do you want me to drive you home? It's more than a 20 min walk to the office from here “- Mike said jokingly - “No no , don't worry you have guests coming soon, you must be here. I will order an uber. I will see you on Monday and it was a pleasure to meet you Florence. You have a wonderful apartment, maybe I can visit both again when I'm not drunk”- I said awkwardly as I opened the door. 

Once I was alone in the corridor I realized how pathetic I was. I've always found a peculiar way to expose myself to awkward situations but haha this one is definitely in the top three. Maybe Derek is right and I'm kind of retarded. Fuck! the things I do to get laid, thinking about my sex fantasies is making me lose all my concentration. Maybe I can ask Florence to introduce me to some friends I can - “For fucks sake, get out the way” - I heard someone screaming at me - “Excuse me.. what did you say?” - I asked as I turned my body to face the rude voice  - “Wow, are you deaf? I've been here asking you to move so I can get to the elevator “- another spoiled rich guy, what a surprise. This is it, I'm going back home - “I'm sorry but that's not the way you should talk to people, you never know what is going on with others. Maybe you can be more polite “- I said as I rolled my eyes - “I was polite the first three times I asked you to move so don't try to turn it to me, you are the one who should be apologizing” - Oh god, I want to punch his face so badly - “Yeah, whatever you said Junior, why don't you go back to your daddy's apartment and cry with him “- I said as I begged for the doors to open- “Watch out! A little bitch over here! “-  the guy jokes as the doors open and we both enter …why me...- “You know, there is no valid reason for you to act like this. What is your problem? Your boyfriend doesn't fuck you enough?” - He said with a smirk on his face. Why are attractive guys such jerks? I look down as I wait to get to the lobby - “Yeah, that's what I thought, you are frigid don't you? I bet men don´t even enjoy your company, you look like a boring woman, now I understand why you are such a bitch”

It was all too much, the alcohol, the disappointment, and this spoiled guy. I tried to ignore him but his last words were like a stab in my heart… he was right, men don't enjoy my company, I turned into a boring woman with no sexual appeal, and then I exploded  - “You know what? You are right! I'm a boring woman, I'm all dried up, there’s no joy in my life anymore. Men don't enjoy my company even if I try to seduce him” - I was crying and yelling at him - “I haven't been fucked in almost a decade ” - the guy was completely in shock, you could tell by the way he opened his eyes.He was regretting saying those things - “you can say all you want about me being a bitch but it's not my fault. If men knew how to give a proper fuck I wouldn't be here…trying my best to be flirty - silence filled the elevator as I realized what I was doing -”…sharing personal information with a stranger and embarrasing myself …fuck”- oh god, this day is getting worse I think I'm going to lose my mind. Yes this guy is a jerk but I'm being mental over here. I need to calm down  - “look I'm sorry” - I said as I wiped my tears- “it's not a good day “

I buried my face in my hands pretending I was back home when I felt the elevator stop. I looked at the guy and he was pressing the red stop button - “What the hell are you do…” - was all I could say. In a matter of seconds, I felt a warm tongue deep inside my mouth while a strong pair of hands grabbed my face, cornering my body between the wall. The kiss was so passionate I could barely breathe, his tongue was exploring my mouth like crazy, suddenly this rich spoiled guy sucked my lower lip making me moan from the pleasure. When I opened my eyes all I could see was a pair of eyes looking into my soul, wonderful blue eyes that made me feel so vulnerable yet excited and horny.  His fresh breath was on my face and we stayed like this for what it feels like an eternity. I was completely mesmerized by this guy. 

He ran his thumb over my lower lip, just where he sucked it and I saw how he smirked. His other hand moved to grab one of my boobs- “You are a wonderful woman” - he said as he caressed my breast over my blouse. I let out a soft moan  - “And most important, you are not dried up “- he said as he kissed my neck - “I bet I can make your delicious pussy soak all over me” - I felt his thigh between my legs, just where my clit was. The friction was pure pleasure to my soul and I let a loud moan escape my mouth as I grabbed his strong bicep - “Come on, let yourself enjoy this' ' - he said as he kept kissing my neck. I was in heaven, he was kissing me just where I wanted. It was like he knew my body and how to touch me, I let myself lose and grind harder on his tight  - “Oh my g.... mmmm…yesss” -  I moaned as my head fell back giving him more access to kiss my neck. I could feel his smile on my throat as I kept moaning from the pleasure  - “Fuck!” - he muttered in my ear - “I can already feel your wetness” -  he said as both of his hands grabbed my waist guiding my movements - “Open your eyes, look at me. I want to see how much you are enjoying this” - he commanded as I was on the edge of pleasure, unable to react to his instructions.I kept grinding harder on his thigh with my eyes closed enjoying the pleasure and chasing my orgasm. I could feel it coming, my legs were shaking and I was babbling nonsense words and moans, and suddenly it stopped. I opened my eyes with an angry look - “Why …mm. noo … I was so clos..”- I felt how he turned my body to face my reflection on the mirror wall. One of his hands grabbed my throat while the other slid down to my pussy.  - “Open your eyes, sweetie. I want you to see how pretty you look when you moan” - his hand was teasing my pussy over my jeans - “Mmmmm yeesss” - I moaned as I leaned my head back to his chest - “No no “- he said as he guided my head back so I could see myself again - “I told you I want you to see yourself “ - he said as he gently rubbed my pussy - “Do you like what you see? Fuck you look so sexy, I can see how bad you want it” - I nodded frenetically - “ Yess please, I want it, please please don't stop this time” - I saw how he smirked proudly - “Mmmm such a good girl for me. Do you want me to touch you? Feel the heat of your soaking pretty pussy?” - What a jerk, he is making me beg for it … it's worth it…be a whore for him -” Yess! Touch me and make me cum”. 

I felt how his hand unbuttoned my jeans and slid into my underwear just where I needed him. Fuck ! I could hear how wet I was, sticky noises filled the elevator as  he opened my folds, his long fingers were traveling all over my dripping pussy  to my clit and teasing my hole. I watched the obscene scene from the mirror wall, this cute guy was driving me crazy. I felt a wave of confidence and I started to grind my body against him, I felt his hard cock against my ass, his big, hard, and delicious cock. Our bodies were like matching pieces from a puzzle, perfectly moving while we enjoyed the friction. 

I grabbed his neck to increase the pressure and in a violent move, he ripped the buttons of my blouse. With no hesitation, he moved my bra exposing my bare chest to him - “Mhmmmm…you have a pair of delicious nipples over here”  - He said as he cupped one of my boobs, my nipples were hard and aching for more - “Come on, cum for me pretty girl” - he commanded - “Ahh..yes.. please..mmm.. keep… keep going... I just …mmm… kiss me “ I felt his warm tongue in my mouth once again. I was moaning against his mouth as he violently abused my clit making my legs shake from pleasure. He kept rubbing my soaking pussy and without a warning I felt an amazing jolt all over my body -” Fuuck yes! Yess cum all over my fingers!” - I heard as I felt my soul leave my body, I was shaking like crazy. 

It took me a while to recover from the amazing orgasm, I was unable to stand by myself, luckily a pair of strong arms were helping me. Once my brain was ready I opened my eyes, I saw how this spoiled rich guy was licking his fingers covered with my cum. Fuck, he is so hot! I look at my reflection in the mirror and smile to myself. Sweat was coming down my forehead, my face was red, my nipples were hard and you could easily see how I still had goosebumps - “You taste like heaven”  - I heard from behind. I gave him a shy smile as I tried to fix myself but he stopped me. I faced him and he grabbed my face between his hands - “I'm sorry for being a jerk” he kissed me once again, a soft and gentle kiss - “And as i said…You are not dried up sweetie” - he said as he put one lock of hair behind my ear -”If that thought crosses your mind again I will gladly remind you how wet i can make you” - I instantly blush as I bite my lower lip, I tried to cover my chest with my ripped blouse - “Fuck, I'm sorry for this too”- he gave me a childish smile - “Why don't you come over my place? I will give you a shirt …” 

Maybe being here can be an exciting adventure after all, maybe Monaco isn't as bad as I thought. “Im Lando by the way, please accept my offer…You can apologize for being a bitch…”