#just did the math and only 6.5k of it is actual fucking

[possamble]

me eating every wip of ur pwp like a starved man

i love ur works sm

#asks #tis finished #but at what cost #i think i need to take a week or so break from fic writing SDFVSDFVSDF #i tried way too hard for this what the hell #just did the math and only 6.5k of it is actual fucking #the rest is just. fluff and context #like what is all that even for why am i like this

[aquagustd]

doin’ time - PJM

after that…riveting evening spent with Jimin, you think he’d be the perfect candidate to help you with the few things that you don’t know after discovering that the real thing is far better than the books. he only has one rule: you’d have to keep your little arrangement a secret.

⤷ lust for life masterlist

pairing — step bro’s best friend!jimin x nerdy!reader

genre/rating — R | smut, fluff, slight angst, fwb2l

word count — 6.5K

play — doin’ time by lana del rey

warnings/tags — summer holiday, rich kids au, college au, strong language, small age gap, inexperienced!reader, flirty jimin, blond jimin, sexual discovery, corruption kink, insecurities, virgin!reader, vaping, manhandling, mouth fetish?, oc lowkey loves money, she’s v h0rny in the part lmao, mentions of masturbation, jimin’s unspoken rizz lmfao, explicit smut — dirty talk, a single spank, oral (m), he teaches oc some stuff 😵‍💫, cum eating, teasing, brief handjob, thigh riding, lots of kisses + one hickey, jimtiddies & biting

note: can be read as a stand-alone !! this jimin 🥴

Puberty. All over again.

Except this time you actually possess the courage to experiment with your own body. You’ve only ever flicked the bean, never really…dared to try and use your fingers. But after that night with Jimin – you’d like to believe he’s the cause – it’s just not enough. Both your hands were occupied, you felt like a cavewoman, hair all messed up as you squirmed and thrashed under the assault of your own fingers.

Imagining Jimin’s lips on your own. His cherry breath mingling with yours as he took you to the heights of pleasure.

One finger wasn’t enough.

Not even two, it seemed.

Three fingers knuckle deep in your own pussy as you lay on your stomach, fingers twisting at the sheets, all that happened between you the other night replaying in your mind like a broken record. Revisiting that moment – when he called your name so sweetly, cumming all over your tummy.

Late that night, it took you nearly two hours to comprehend what had transpired. Bordering insanity that Park Jimin kissed you, nearly fucked you, and more…all in one night. Your first night of intimacy with another person. You’re not sure if you’re happy or sad that he collected your firsts like infinity stones in only half an hour – but you’re one hundred percent sure that teenage you is living her best life right now.

You bring your fingers up to your lips, reminiscing, remembering how soft and plush his lips felt against yours. Tongue moving so expertly while you felt like you were levitating.

You’re glad that he asked for your number and didn’t give you his, since you would’ve lost your mind wondering when or if you should text him. Since it was probably just a one-time thing.

Collapsing on your bed, you bury your face in your pillow, letting out a tiny shriek.

If you don’t empty all this soon, you might explode.

You can’t even bring yourself to concentrate on your books anymore, mind so muddled with Jimin and his unholy tongue.

Hurriedly, you grab your phone from your nightstand, doing mental math just in case it’s a bad time to call Farah right now. But, to your surprise, your best friend answers on the first ring.

“Hey!”

“Oh my God, hiii,” you squeal, narrowing your eyes at her, “where are you?”

She holds up the phone, giving you a good view of what’s behind her. She seems to be in a marketplace, strolling past the stalls with an iced coffee in hand. Crowd chattering behind her.

“Mum and I went shopping.”

“That’s cool. What are you bringing home for me?”

She giggles, bringing the phone up to her face as she whispers, “it’s a surprise…anyway, why did you call?”

“Oh, oh,” you blush, suddenly shy as Jimin’s stupid face pops into your head. And then you’re second-guessing. Wondering if you should really tell her what happened. You know she won’t judge you, since she shared her firsts and everything else after that with you.

“What? Tell me!” She shouts from the other end of the line, apologizing to the bald man who happened to be standing a little too close when she yelled.

“Uhm,” you cough, covering half your face with one hand, “you remember Jimin. Well, of course you remember him.”

Her grey eyes go wide, “Jimin? Park Jimin?”

You chuckle nervously, “yeah… the only Jimin we know, Farah.”

“Wait, he’s back?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “yeah…he came for my parents housewarming and—”

“When did he get back?”

“I don’t know, probably last weekend…I think.”

“How long is he staying?”

You snort, fist propped under your cheek, “since when do you care that much about him?”

She tuts, “we studied together, remember? Those two years in Germany.”

“Oh, right. That…totally slipped my mind.” Because it did. Farah, your step brother (who tagged along for a vacation), and his friends all left for two years to complete a business course in Germany over a year ago. But your mother didn’t let you go, of course. You’re still bitter over that.

Jimin had done the same course with them and while they were living it up there, you stayed home and finished your courses here. Missing out all on the fun.

“H-How is he?”

“Uh…he’s good, I guess.”

“Still charming all the girls? God, I used to have the biggest crush on him,” she sighs, eyes a little distant.

That has you raising an eyebrow. Since she never, ever brought up her crush on him, and when you were younger she used to tease you and force you into talking to him and ultimately, embarrass yourself.

“You had a crush on him?”

“Come on, ___. Who didn’t have a crush on Park Jimin? Anyway,” she clears her throat, hair swaying behind her as she weaves through the crowd, “what did you want to tell me?”

The dreamy look in her eyes makes you wonder if her sentiments toward him haven’t changed, and for that reason, you use it as an excuse to not tell her what happened. Not yet, that is.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” you smile, shuffling to the balcony when you hear the crunch of tires rolling into the driveway, “what time is your flight?”

“We’ll reach around 6 in the evening. I got to go, can’t wait to see you tomorrow!”

“Me too!”

“Bye, love you!”

“Love you too.” She ends the call at the right time, otherwise she would’ve witnessed your heart-eyed expression as you watched Jimin step out of his father’s car, wearing a short-sleeved white t-shirt and black cap.

Looking…sexy.

You snap away from the balcony door when he looks up, missing the smirk playing on his lips as he greets your father.

Flinging your phone across the room, you scour your wardrobe for a cuter outfit, settling on a cute, white mini skirt and a pink jumper to go over. You know they’re probably here to discuss business with your parents, Jimin maybe came along to hang out with your brother, but you’d love to make your presence known.

As if Jimin would think you’re anywhere else but your parents’ place on a hot summers’ day.

Rushing downstairs, you survey your appearance in the hallway mirror, reapplying your lip gloss, before perching yourself on one of the couches in the lounge. The door to the conference room shuts just as you sit down. You curse – now you’d have to wait ‘til they leave so you can see him.

From your place in the lounge, you can hear the room fill with masculine laughter, your mother’s voice tinkering over theirs. It’s been like this since you were little, but after Jimin left, you didn’t care to make an appearance each time Jimin’s dad would come over to meet his business associates. Younger you was disheartened that he had chosen to complete his schooling abroad, and a major part of you resented your mother. She always prevented you from going out and living your life.

Sure she was just trying to protect you, but now you’re a fully grown adult and her behavior hasn’t changed. Like always, you’d have to search for the hidden motive behind her actions. But your conscience wouldn’t let you do that when it came to her over-protectiveness, since you’d label yourself as ungrateful.

Another quality she ingrained in your mind whenever you would complain about the smallest things.

However, you’re a hypocrite for saying that she hasn’t changed, when you’re none the better.

“What are you doing here?”

Your step brother, Doc, stands with his hands in his pockets at the top of the staircase, inquisitive stare burning into your face.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? Really?” He chuckles, the sound echoing in your home, “I highly doubt that you left your room to come out here and do nothing.”

You level him with an exasperated stare, tucking your feet under your thighs.

“Can say the same for you.”

Busying yourself on your phone, you attempt to avoid his questions by looking away, but he’s merciless, sitting down next to you on the couch with that sickening perfume of his invading your senses.

“I think I know why you’re here.”

Startled, you look up from your phone screen, keeping your face as expressionless as possible.

“Do I need to have a profound reason every single time I step out of my room?”

He runs a hand through his dark hair, corner of his mouth quirking up, “yeah, you kinda do.”

Rolling your eyes, you go back to scrolling through your messages when you hear the door to the conference room crack open, your step-father calling your name with his head tilted toward the staircase. You leap to your feet, shuffling around the pillars over to him.

“Oh, you’re here,” he chuckles, hand resting on your shoulder, “your mother and I have something to ask you. Come on.”

When you enter the room, sunlight beaming across the walls, your gaze falls on Jimin immediately, heart twisting in your chest…and another heartbeat thrumming between your legs.

He’s sat next to his father at the other end of the rectangular table, while your mother sits near the projector, wearing a sour expression. As usual.

Your father pulls out one of the grey chairs for you, “take a seat.”

Tentatively, you sit down, wondering why they’re being so formal.

“As you know,” your father begins, fingers slotting together, “Mr. Park’s company is currently undergoing a restructuring process. Planning a relaunch by the end of the year.”

Your eyes shift to Jimin, unable to see his expression since he’s covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, eyes crinkled at the corners.

“…Yeah.”

“Your mother and I have decided to manage the finance department until Mr. Park is back on track, so we were wondering if—”

“Listen,” your mother interrupts, reaching across the table for your hand, “you don’t have to say yes. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’ll only work four hours a day, Monday to Thursday,” your father informs, shooting a subtle glare, one you don’t miss, in your mother’s direction, “there won’t be much for you to do, since Jimin will be there to split the load.”

You gasp.

Then play off your gasp by laughing.

“Jimin…will be working with me?”

“Yes, dear, you have nothing to worry about. We just thought it would be nice for you to get some experience before you graduate and maybe,” your dad winks, “make some extra cash?”

You were sold when they said you’d be working four hours a day alongside Jimin. But you’d also be getting paid?! Now, this is an offer you can’t refuse.

“We’ll give you some time to—”

“Yes.”

Your mother’s brows shoot up to her hairline, clearly unhappy, “are you sure? You don’t have to do this.”

“Leave her,” your father beams, smacking his palms together, “at least she’d spend this holiday getting to know the ins and outs, eh? Since you’re joining us next year.”

You snort, “not sure about next year, but I’m perfectly fine working temporarily.”

“Good, your mother will be around to supervise, and we’ll negotiate the rest later,” he grins, nodding in Mr. Park’s direction.

Your palms are clammy, neck a little stiff as you all rise from your seats, Jimin’s dad and your parents’ exchanging formalities while Jimin watches you from behind them, his eyes twinkling in the sunlight, boyish smile tugging at his lips.

Maybe your eyes are playing tricks on you, but you swear you see his head jerk in the direction of the door, eyebrows lifting as he winks.

“We’ll see you on Monday, Ms. ___.”

You throw Mr. Park a quick smile, standing to the side as he and Jimin exit the room. Heartbeat accelerating, you’re trying to come up with an excuse to get Jimin alone. To talk to him. To get a good look at him. Anything.

Jimin falters in his step, hand held over his chest as he turns to your father, “before we go, can I use the bathroom?”

“Sure,” your father smiles, “___ will take you upstairs to the guest bathroom. ___?”

“O-Oh yeah,” you startle, hands clasped in front of you as you march toward the staircase, “come on.”

Hair at the back of your neck raising, you can’t shake his stare as he follows you around the house. And once the guest bathroom comes into sight, you stop, pointing to its general direction.

“There it i—”

You yelp as you feel your arm being yanked to the left, tossed into your own room with the door slamming behind you. Back pressed into the wall as he towers over you with his hands set on either side of your head.

“Hi.”

You swallow thickly, “hi.”

His gaze rakes down your figure, bottom lip tucked between his teeth – as if stripping you of your clothes with his siren eyes alone. Your blinds are open halfway, illuminating sections of his face which you think makes him look nearly angelic.

“How have you been?”

Fighting the urge to clench your thighs together, you can’t help but notice the sudden rasp to his voice, different compared to how he sounded earlier.

“I’ve been…good.”

He hums, index finger pushing back a chunk of your hair, “have you been thinking of me?”

You lick your lips, so parched.

“Mhm.”

All you can feel is the blood rushing through your veins, pressure pooling in your lower abdomen.

“Have you been thinking of me?”

He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “of course.”

You scoff, “liar.”

His eyebrows furrow, a single strand of hair falling over his forehead.

“You haven’t texted me yet.”

“Oh,” he tuts, ringed fingers caressing the side of your face, “sorry princess. I’ve been busy all week.”

Something in your belly stirs after hearing that pet name – something he used to call you back when you were a child. The position you’re in right now gives it a whole different meaning.

“It’s okay.”

“They’re probably wondering why we’re gone so long,” he husks, cherry breath wafting over your face.

You stand upright, attempting to wiggle out of his hold – because you can’t have any of them banging on your door like the last time. The fear you felt that night when you heard your brother on the other side of the door. His hand flies to your waist, pulling you flush to his chest.

So close you can feel his heart thrum against your own chest, just as unsteady as yours.

“You’re not gonna give me a kiss before I go?”

There’s a slight whine in his voice, pouting as he keeps his gaze on your lips. It’s driving you crazy.

You’re doing the same, unable to tear your eyes away from his glossy mouth – trying to remember what they taste like despite having him right here for you to devour all over again.

“Should I…give you a kiss?”

His eyes flicker up to meet yours, tongue darting out, “only if you want to.”

You’re breathless, fists pressed to his chest awkwardly but so comfortable at the same time, melting in his embrace.

“Why should I give you a kiss?”

His eyebrows lift, shiny teeth cracking through his smile, “because I know you want to.”

Your clit pulses, core clenching incessantly as he continues to undress you with his sinful gaze. But again, you’re doing the same – wishing you could feel his heated, bare body on yours. That’s all you’ve been thinking about after that night. Since all you saw was his dick. The main part – but there’s so much more you want to see. Want to taste.

“You said you’ve been thinking of me,” he purrs, cupid’s bow grazing your own, having your eyelashes flutter, “what have you been thinking about?”

“What we did…the other night.”

“Yeah? What else?”

Your gaze drops to his lips, thighs tensing when you remember the filthy things he did to you.

“Oh,” he grins, the hand that was on your waist lowering to grab a handful of your ass, “I bet you couldn’t stop thinking of that, huh? I bet you got so needy you couldn’t help but play with that pretty pussy.”

You nod weakly, gasping when he pinches your ass, “mhm.”

“Really?” He laughs wickedly, head cocking to the side, “tell me, how many times did you cum since that night?”

Shaking your head, you mumble out ‘I lost count,’ watching as awe sparks in his eyes, both hands grabbing at your ass now.

“How did you make yourself c—” he groans, eyes falling shut as he inhales a deep breath, pupils blown out once his eyes reopen “—I’m gonna be home all day. Alone. You can come over and maybe…we can talk about that kiss? Hm?”

“Okay,” you smile, palms lying flat against his padded chest, “your parents’ house?”

“No, my apartment. I’ll text you the address, okay?”

Hearing footsteps just outside your door, you send him a panicked look.

“Okay, I think you should go now,” you say begrudgingly, feeling up his chest.

He nods, making a move toward your door, then slowly spinning around to face you again, bending over to leave a peck on your cheek, one that has your whole face heating.

“See you later—” he gestures to your legs with his eyes, tongue wetting his lips “—wear that skirt when you come over.”

“O—kay.”

The door slams behind him as he leaves you in a state of confusion - panties drenched in your own slick.

After five minutes, you stand at the balcony door again to watch as they leave, hearing your phone vibrate on your dresser. Grinning to yourself, you save his number, excitement building as you think of what could happen after you two talk.

Despite how your fingers itch with nerves, your shoulders feel a bit lighter. After finding out that it wasn’t just a one-time thing with Jimin. You don’t know what you expected, but you know it would’ve been incredibly awkward if you just went on with your days, seeing each other now and again whenever he would come over, without addressing what happened that night.

But you know Jimin isn’t that type of guy. He wouldn’t act as if nothing happened, knowing that it was an experience for you since it was your first.

That’s why you’re driving over to his apartment, after mentally and physically preparing yourself for what might happen tonight. Things went so far with you, and it’s not like you’ve been ‘saving yourself’ for marriage or anything like that. You just haven’t found the right guy. Since you’ve been focusing on yourself and your career these past few years.

Maybe Jimin could be the guy you were looking for – the one who would be able to satisfy your needs without wanting anything more.

You’d just have to be careful of that silly crush you had on him in the past.

‘You have reached your destination.’

The parking lot next to his apartment building is packed, so you had to park across the road, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you jog over to the front doors. There’s a small booth to the side of the glass double doors, a burly man wearing uniform sat inside.

You’re wondering why Jimin isn’t staying over at his parents’ house if he’s just down for the holidays. Or maybe he’s not…just down for the holidays. Maybe he has an apartment in this swanky building because he’s choosing to work here. Back home. Forever.

“How can I help you?”

The sulky man sitting inside the booth calls with a slightly annoyed tone, gesturing for you to step closer.

There’s a bunch of buttons behind him, each with a different number tagged next to it.

“I’m…here for Park Jimin.”

He doesn’t blink, pitch black eyes boring into your soul.

“What number?”

“Err—” you pull out your phone from your purse, seeing that Jimin didn’t provide you with a number but just the location of the building. Chuckling sheepishly, you shake your head, “he didn’t give me a number. I’m Park Jimin’s guest.”

Just then, a couple, giggling and skipping, make their way over to the booth, completely disregarding your presence as they lean on the mini counter outside the booth to speak to the guard.

“Buzz us in.”

Surprisingly, a smile splits his face as he spins around and presses one of the buttons with his thumb. A loud beeping sound following the soft whoosh as the glass doors swing open.

You huff, “can you buzz me in?”

His smile has disappeared, lips in a frown

Cursing internally, you shoot Jimin a quick, irritated text.

His reply is instant, and the doors swing open just as he responds. Sending the guard a smug look, you saunter into the building, finding an elevator just behind the reception area. Jimin sends you another text, informing you that his room is on the highest floor. Room 13.

The ritzy interior goes from the chandeliers to the wallpaper down to the carpets. The scent of sandalwood follows you as you pad across the plush floors, coming to an abrupt stop when you find his apartment at the end of the hall, a large window to the corner of his door giving you the perfect view of the city, the sky a pale blue, bleeding into black.

Your attention is brought to the door when you hear shuffling on the other side, gold lettering glinting in the low lighting as the door creaks open. Revealing Jimin, boyish smile tilting one side of his mouth.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you mumble, annoyance replaced with thrill.

He steps to the side of the door, gesturing for you to enter, “come on in. Nice car.”

“Thanks,” you reply, holding up your car keys, “was a birthday gift.”

Hovering about the entrance, you kick off your shoes and wait for him to guide you further into his home. The quaint space so…Jimin. Cosy and warm. You plop down on the white couch he has situated opposite a TV set, curtains drawn, and magazines scattered across the coffee table.

“That’s just for decoration,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head as he adjusts the corners of the magazines to be in line with each other, “do you want anything to eat? Drink?”

“No thanks,” you smile, waiting for him to sit down next to you. But he doesn’t, instead holding your gaze, arms folded.

He’s wearing a white, long-sleeved shirt now, hugging his body in all the right places. His attire complementing the rest of his home.

“I’ll be right back,” he announces, turning on his heel as he disappears around the feature wall painted in a dark, mysterious blue. But what catches your eye is the markings on his neck. The tattoo – breath stalling in your lungs.

A crescent moon. Right at the center of his neck. You need a better look at it. How did you not see it before?

He returns holding a pair of white sandals, dropping it at your feet before sitting down on the couch with his knee brushing yours.

“It’s cold, wear those.”

You’re wearing stockings, the pale pink fabric coming right above your knee, but you slip on the shoes without protest, thanking him.

“What is it you wanted to talk about?”

You snort, turning to look at him with your hands slotted between your knees, “you invited me over.”

He rubs his bottom lip with his index finger, elbow propped up on the backrest as he laughs.

“Right…we were supposed to talk about what happened,” he sighs, folding one leg under his thigh.

You refocus on the white bow sitting at the hem of your stockings, nodding slowly.

“Listen,” he begins, scooting closer to you so his hand rests on yours, “I’m cool with it if you’re cool with it…but I’m really not in the right mindset for a relationship right now.”

Spluttering, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles out of your lips, the serious expression he’s sporting so hilarious.

“Who said anything about a relationship?” You giggle, holding a hand over your mouth as you watch him join in your laughter.

“Oh,” he snorts, moving away slowly, “I’m an idiot. I just thought…”

“You thought what?”

He gives a one shoulder shrug, poking at the button on his pants, “I just thought that what happened between us that night would…mean something else for you. Since it was your first and all.”

“Jimin,” you snigger, reaching for his hand, “it’s really not that deep. I wasn’t gonna wait for the one to do any of that.”

His lips part in an ‘o,’ eyes going wide.

“I thought you were.”

“No,” you scoff, “what made you think that?”

He rakes a hand through his blond hair, shrugging again, “I guess…I got that idea since you waited so long.”

“I only waited that long because I didn’t want to mess around with any of the idiots on campus," you deadpan, “or worse…Doc’s friends.”

He smirks, “I was Doc’s friend.”

“Well, you’re an exception,” you blurt, seeing his smirk go even wider.

“I’m an exception, how?”

“I-I don’t know,” you mumble, eyes on your stockings again. But you do know, you felt comfortable around him. And you allowed yourself to go that far because you once had a crush on him. At least that’s what you think it is.

He hums, reaching over the armrest to grab his vape and place it between his pink lips, a cloud of airy smoke puffing out of his lips along with that same cherry fragrance, all while holding eye contact. Finally, he releases you from his stare, looking over to the window which has you noticing another tattoo behind his ear – and another on his wrist when he lifts the vape pen up to his mouth again.

“So what you wanna do?”

You know exactly what you wanna do. You want to stick your tongue down his throat and let him fuck you.

“I don’t know.”

He narrows his eyes at you, setting down his vape before patting his thigh twice as he manspreads, crotch jerking upward.

“Come here.”

Your heart sinks to your pussy, beating like a drum.

“T-There?”

He grins, cheeks puffing out as he smiles, “yes, here. On my lap.”

Hesitantly, you leave your bag on the coffee table and move an inch closer to him, heart racing.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“No,” you mutter, resting your hands on his shoulders, “I want to.”

Once you’re sat on his lap, legs resting on either side of his thighs, you move your palms further down his chest sneakily, getting a feel of his toned abs under the thin material of his shirt. You chance a glance at his face, finding his eyes on you – watching intently.

His chest undulates beneath your touch, lips snagged between his teeth before he finally cups the back of your neck and brings your face lower to meet his lips. Your eyes slip shut, moaning into his mouth as he locks your lips with his, tongue swiping out as a silent request. Parting your lips, you feel yourself gush as the wet muscle swirls around your own, shifting on his lap when he cups your ass in one hand, moving his head this way and that to deepen the kiss.

Your lungs burn for air, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away from the intoxicating taste of his lips, drunk of each graze, each suckle, each nip he gives your lips.

He moves away slightly, and you think you can catch your breath – but his kisses trail downward, you tremble as his tongue darts out to caress that sweet spot under your ear, teeth joining the mix to have you sigh out his name.

All you hear is the loud smacks of his lips against your skin, captured by the delicious sensation. Then you feel his hands come to the front of your blouse, eyes flying open when he begins to undo the buttons from the top.

“Jimin,” you call breathlessly, thoughts dwindling to halt at one. What if he doesn’t like the way your body looks? What if he gets turned off after seeing you naked?

Pushing him back slowly, you expect to find him mad, or annoyed. But there’s none of that, he looks just as crazy as before, bulge pressing into your knee when you sit back. He eyes the sliver of skin poking out from the buttons he had opened, white bra peeking out.

“I’m sorry did I—”

“No, no,” you object, voice small and uncertain, “you’re good. I’m good. I just…don’t—” You struggle with your words, but he nods it off, grabbing your hands to place them back on his chest.

“It’s okay. We’ll just go with what you’re comfortable with, hm? Do you want to stop?”

You nibble on your bottom lip, shaking your head timidly.

His grin is back, eyes sparkling with mischief, “okay, I have an idea.”

Taking hold of your waist, he lifts you swiftly and readjusts your position on his lap. You go willingly, realizing what idea he was talking about when your skirt fans out behind you and his thigh presses into your clit, the sudden pressure having you fall forward onto him.

“That okay?” His voice is gruff, just above a whisper, lips kissing the shell of your ear as you press your forehead to his shoulder.

“Mhm.”

“I want to hear you, princess.”

A gasp tumbles from your lips when he rocks your hips forward with the hold he has on your waist, thigh flexing under your swollen clit.

“Yes.”

“Tell me if I should stop.”

“No,” you whine, leaning back to speak against his lips, “don’t stop. Feels so good.”

“I couldn’t stop even if I wanted to princess,” he husks, teeth snagging on your bottom lip, “you sound so fucking sweet.”

You’re spurred on by the rasp in his voice, capturing his lips in a fervent kiss as you follow his rhythm, grinding your clit against his thigh shamelessly. He tastes every inch of your mouth, guiding your hips with one hand while the other travels up to your neck, tilting your head whichever way he likes as he ravages your mouth.

“So fucking pretty grinding on me like this, have you thought of this, hm? Grinding on my thigh to make yourself cum?”

You shake your head, the idea so fresh and…nasty to you.

“You haven’t? Fuck,” he speaks through gritted teeth, lifting the hem of your skirt up slowly to take a peek under while you’re fucking on his thigh, pussy soaking through your panties and his pants, “does it feel good? I bet it does, you’re fucking dripping. Ruining my pants.”

“Jimin,” you moan, moving upward which has your knee pressing into the side of his clothed cock, hearing him groan as you rut into his thigh.

“Shit,” he growls, eyes half-lidded as he bounces his thigh, the sensation hurling you closer to the edge. You roll your hips faster, clit pressing into his skin deliciously as he buries his face in your neck and cradles you to him, his cock twitching in its confines.

The coil tightens in your lower belly, tumescent clit rubbing up against him as you throw your head back when he sinks his teeth into your flesh, suckling and nipping at the skin just below your collarbone.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you shudder, thighs quaking around him as you slide your hips back and forth, body erupting in a wave of goosebumps.

He bounces his leg faster, fingers buried in your hair as your nipples poke through the thin fabric of your bra, rubbing up against his chest.

“Fuck, you’re gonna cum all over my thigh? Hm? Get me nice and messy? Cum for me, princess.”

The euphoric sensations, coupled with his dirty mouth covering yours all tips you over the edge, eyes rolling back as your head lolls forward then back, lips parted in a silent moan – cumming with a trembling sigh. He kisses up the column of your throat, helping you ride out your high before you begin to twitch and quake, wrapping your arms around him to plant another feverish kiss on his doll lips.

He helps you off his lap, fingers pressing into your thigh as he sits up and pulls down the zipper on his pants, taking out his thick, veiny cock. You watch in awe as he spits into his palm, eyebrows furrowed when he begins to stroke his cock at a fast pace, rolling his hand around the tip before sliding back to the base.

“___,” he moans weakly, thumb digging into your calf through your stocking, “let me see that wet pussy.”

You can’t look away from his girthy, weeping cock, licking your lips as you see a translucent pearl bead at the top.

Another thing you’ve been thinking about is how you can return the favor, give him the suck of his life. Of course, you’ve never done if before – but you’ve read enough erotica to know exactly how it goes, right? What could be more detailed than that?

Maybe you can add your own twist to it.

Inhaling a deep breath, you comb your hair over your shoulder and sink down to the floor, gaze latched onto his as you sit between his legs.

“Fuck, you sure?”

You nod, that thick, opiating scent of his a lot stronger from this angle.

“I’m sure.”

He nods, hiding his excitement poorly, “okay—” he jerks forward, resting his sticky hands on his thighs. His cock springs up, hitting his shirt before you wrap your fingers around the base slowly. You watch as he slides the beige rug toward you with his socked foot, gesturing for you stand up so he can place it under your knees.

You wet your lips again, guiding his hot and heavy cock to your mouth as he caresses the back of your head, moving closer to you.

“Don’t take more than you can hand—oh FUCK!”

Jaw unhinging, you wrap your lips around the tip and push forward, gagging when the dark mushroom head hits the back of your throat.

“Princess,” he pants, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, “go easy, okay? You don’t have to take it all. Just…put your mouth on the tip for now, hold it here.”

You grab the base again, lips hovering over the sticky tip, “like this?”

“Yes, that’s it.”

Mimicking his movements from earlier, you slide your palm up and down his shaft, lips suctioning around his tip, tongue darting out to flick his frenulum, all while keeping your eyes on him. Heavenly sounds slipping from his lips with each stroke.

“Fucking hell,” his voice strains, gasping as you begin to twist your palm from root to tip, stopping at the area your mouth doesn’t cover, “so fucking good.”

His head hangs from his shoulders, eyes opening a crack.

“Faster.”

Eager to please, you follow his instructions and move your hand faster, bobbing your head over the tip to feel your own spit leak down the sides of your mouth, veins twitching in your hold. You split the tip with your tongue, doing it again and again because you love his reaction, how he can’t help but push his cock further into your mouth by snapping his hips.

Despite the way your jaw begins to burn, you tilt your head to the side and suckle harder, eyes falling shut before you hear a loud whine of your name, tip of his cock pressed into your cheek as he sits at the edge of the couch, expression contorted by pure bliss.

“Gonna cum,” he grits out, fucking your mouth lightly, “where?”

You hold the base with both hands, creating a tight tunnel for him to fuck into as you roll out your tongue and rest the leaking tip there. He grunts, throwing his head back as he flexes his hips rapidly, moaning as thick, hot ropes of cum hit your tongue and throat.

The taste comes after you close your mouth and swallow it all – a little bitter and earthy. But his reaction is worth it, enraptured by the way you drink up his cum.

He pulls you back onto his lap by your elbow, pressing his lips to yours tiredly as you both catch your breath.

“Sure that was your first time?”

You smack his shoulder, rolling your eyes despite the way you blush at his words. Scrunching your face up when he goes in to give you an open-mouthed kiss, you move away, hardly enjoying the aftertaste.

“Where’s the bathroom?”

He points down the hallway, “first door on your right.”

On shaky legs, you make your way to the bathroom. Cleaning yourself up quickly then gargling your mouth and washing your face – your own reflection scaring you. You only realize that you teared a bit when you see a single streak of mascara on your left cheek.

“In here,” Jimin calls from the kitchen once you leave the bathroom, finding him scooping ice cream into two bowls. “Here.”

He slides one of the dark blue bowls in your direction, pink chunks dotting the lighter pink ice cream.

“Thank you,” you beam, sitting down on one of the stools as he does the same, right next to you.

Silence settles between you, the clank of your spoons hitting your bowls as you finish your dessert being the only sound in the kitchen, along with the refrigerator whirring in the background.

“So what do you think?” He says finally, licking the last bit of ice cream off his spoon.

You turn to him, “what do I think about what?”

“You know,” he winks, fingers dancing across your neck, “having some fun this summer. We are gonna be working together anyway.”

“Oh,” you chuckle, “right.”

You pretend to think…despite having your answer ready and he seems to know you’re only pretending too, grinning devilishly.

“Okay.”

His grin spreads wider, earrings shaking with his head as he nods, “cool…But uhh, you can’t tell anyone. It should be our secret.”

You scoff, “of course I won’t.”

Rising from the stool, you stack his bowl into yours and walk toward the sink – when a loud smack resounds in the kitchen, a stinging sensation rippling in your left ass cheek.

“Hey!” You scold, turning around to throw Jimin a peeved look, even though you liked it. Very much.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exclaims, eyes wide with fake innocence, “did you not like that?”

You clear your throat, rinsing your hands with your back facing him, “I did.”

He’s suddenly behind you, breath hitting your ear.

“I know.”

so so? did you like it ?! please do let me know what you think! i’d love to hear from you ✉️♡

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[1ivinqdeadqir1]

SHADES OF COOL: Part III

Part Three: La Familia es todo

previously chapters: 1 2

finally, chapter 3 as promised!! I hope you guys enjoy, i need to actually start planning the chapters but... this one is kinda cute at points, lots of fluff... for now!!!

Word Count: 6.5k (oooof they're getting longer haha)

WARNING: Mentions of stalking, parents arguing, Hector being a weird uncle that likes to dunk his nephews underwater... the usual

Friday: 

Your (first person) POV: 

“Are you alright?”

My coworker, Jen, taps me on the shoulder. Her manicured nails are all I can focus on for a few seconds, yet I manage to shake it off and nod before going back to what I’d been doing- staring blankly at my shoes, cigarette between my fingers. 

“Yeah, I guess, just thinking”

Just thinking. A half lie, in retrospect. Over the last few nights, I’ve been unable to sleep- someone somewhere has taken it upon themselves to call at random, going out of their way to make me panic. The idea that the calls are coming from a couple of middle schoolers crossed my mind, yet there was no way for any children to access my number. There wasn’t a pattern or reason for the silence on the other end of the call either, it seemed. I haven’t told anyone about the strange phone calls, not yet, anyway.

As a small child, teachers had told my parents that I was an ‘overthinker,’ and for a while, I figured that was a good thing. Overthinking in itself couldn’t possibly be harmful, In what world would thinking lead to any kind of misfortune? All the grown-ups told you to think about all sorts of things: maths, English, whether or not to say please and thank you. The sky was the limit, supposedly. Now, after twenty-two years I've come to terms with the fact that everything they’d ever said about overthinking being positive, was just bullshit.

“Well, seems like you’re thinking a lot, anything in particular?” Jen leans in like she’s expecting some sort of catastrophic news, something to give the day a bit of a buzz.

In New Mexican daylight, the cloud of smoke that’d left my lungs looked more like steam as I laughed, awkwardly, yet in a way I knew wouldn’t upset her, “no, it's nothing” a lie. “Just getting ahead of myself I guess”

Her lips formed an O as she nodded, eyes wide and arms now folded tight across her chest, “is it a boy?” god, ‘boys.’ why not ‘men’, Jenny? I’m only a year younger than you, for fuck sake. 

“No no no no” she quirked a brow, my cheeks began to grow hot and the sun’s brilliant UV rays hadn’t helped make it any less obvious despite the lies and attempts to hide the truth.

Ever since that meal at El Michocano, we’d talked constantly - or whenever either of us was available - and it felt fantastic. Supposedly, Lalo wasn’t going to be in Albuquerque for long and was only here to ensure things ‘up north’ was running smoothly, to check whether or not Hector’s guys had the restaurant in good shape. Though whenever driving home, past the eatery, I had to hold back the urge to park up, walk in and say hi. 

“Alright,” Jen hummed, stubbing out her cigarette as I did. 

-------------

It’d gotten to noon, and the lukewarm coffee in my mug had barely managed to keep me sitting upright behind the front desk as I thought about all the other more interesting things I could be doing. Whoever had taken last night's shift had left me to file the doctor's notices. The ones that tell us what medications a person takes and when they should take them. The files changed whenever a medical review was conducted, which means they have to be updated semi-regularly. 

I don’t mind office work, usually, if it has variety. The hours go by and feel like days, the days feel like months and months, years. Which doesn’t help.

I’d rather be on my feet doing something right now. Whenever I have a moment to myself, I drift off only to be woken again by the shuffling of papers or the ring of the phone. I want to cry out of frustration, but thankfully there are only 30 minutes left before someone else takes over.

------------

GENERAL POV:  

You work for the 30, sorting through the documentation, signing visitors in, and asking how they are to be polite. Not only because the lack of conversation makes the already ear-piercing silence louder, but because you can’t help but feel a tad lonely. You’d much rather be getting the dinners ready in the kitchen with the others, yet, you were always the one left to suffer until the clock chimed. 

At half twelve you get up, take your things and head to the staff room; grabbing a flask from your locker that you then fill with fresh warm coffee. Straight, black, with no creamer but a touch of sugar to rid the drink of it’s initial bitterness. As you sit on the couch, by the window, you almost feel at peace. You look out at the cloudless blue sky, hills in the distance and debate whether you should go on a walk later, once you’ve rested up.

You decide against it, instead choosing to drink your coffee and play ‘snake’ on your flip phone. Lalo hadn’t messaged you for a few days, you figured he was busy and hadn’t let the fact he was quiet phase you at all. Though, you were beginning to miss him the tiniest bit. Outside of work you’d only ever interact with a few close friends and the few family members you had left living locally. Grandma and Grandpa often invited you over for dinners, asking how everything at work had been and if there was anything interesting going on in your life; you always gave the same answer. Despite the love you had for your job, the regularity and routine were repetitive and you had actually mentioned it to the higher-ups to see if they could do anything about it. They hadn’t gotten back to you yet, a message in its own right. 

Your breaks were an hour long, yet you wished for longer as without realising you’d again fallen asleep where you sat- much to the dismay of a few coworkers that stood by the countertops. 

“Jesus, she looks like shit” 

“Maybe she’s on something, doped up like Ms Smith was a few days ago… that’d be fuckin’ ironic, don’t you think?”

A laugh came from the side of the room, you stir, and the phone in your lap fell to the floor. 

“I don't think you know what the word ‘irony’ means and how to use it… I think you just mean funny.”

By the time the break was over, and one of the workers manages to rouse you from your slumber, your coffee had been reduced to dishwater. You yawned, placing the mug down on the short-legged table a few feet away from where you sat. Straightening out your uniform, you smile faintly, remembering that fortunately, your time at the desk was up for today… no one liked desk duty unless Marjorie had organized the files overnight.

You reach to pick up the flip phone and head out into the common area where residents sit on either couches, loveseats or regular chairs. Most of them were doing their own thing, knitting was (of course) popular alongside reading, yet idle conversation flowed aplenty. Personally, you liked to read and watch tv, or maybe supervise the occasional card game. 

“Good Afternoon, Hector” you nod in his direction, smiling as his dark eyes follow you across the room. You decide to sit with Pearl and Lola, two women that often stuck to themselves- hardly letting strangers into conversations. 

“You know, Pearly, it’d be a lot easier to- ”

The old woman looks up, blue eyes wide as a grin crosses her cheeks. She motions for you to sit, and you oblige willingly. “Afternoon, ladies” you look at what they’re doing, knitting squares for a blanket of some sort, one where all the different patterns will be joined together upon completion.

“Afternoon, dear” 

You nod, pulling back a chair and carefully sitting, grabbing a ball of yarn and some knitting needles from a plastic wallet. Your grandma had taught you how to knit, she’d sit with you as a child on her lap and instruct with her soft-spoken voice. The memory warmed you, you wished to go back to a time like that. When nothing really mattered and everything was trivial. Your childhood felt rushed compared to that of your peers, with your parents constantly arguing it was hard not to grow up earlier than others. Most of your classmates had normal lives, with normal parents that loved each other. Sure, they fought but from what you gathered the arguments would only last an hour or so, whereby they’d apologize and make up. In your head, you wondered why you’d never been able to have that, what you could’ve possibly done to deserve such a rough childhood. Grandma said that it hadn’t anything to do with you, though on occasion it sure felt like it. 

“Sweetie, are you alright?” Pearl's hoarse voice breaks you from your memory, and you nod again. 

“Yeah, just thinking is’ all… memories and all that” you smile at the old lady who returns the gesture, her hands moving quickly, knitting perfectly without even having to look down for a second to see what was going on. 

------------

Simon (the man who was currently working the front desk)  calls your name, and you look up at him now standing beside you. At this point, you’d managed to make a start on a decent enough scarf - One to fit a toddler perhaps- and get into a rhythm similar to that of Pearl and Lola’s.

“Yeah?” Your lips curve up sweetly at the man, now feeling more awake than you had earlier. He swallows thickly, his right hand in his pocket as the left cups the nape of his neck. A bead of sweat falls from his brow, and you subconsciously tilt your head to the side as it does. 

“There’s a man here to see you, Lalo Salamanca, I think he’s related to Hector” 

You scoff, “well no, Sherlock, he’s related to the other Hector Salamanca that lives here” 

Pearl grimaces and Lola simply purses her lips together as if she’d just placed a sour candy in her mouth. Simon's brow furrows and his posture stiffens, he’s standing taller than he had been and his left hand had dropped to the side. You laugh, quietly, so as to not disturb anyone else in the room. 

“I’m only kidding, Si’, I’ll be right out” 

The man nods, still looking rather uncomfortable as he shuffles out of the room and into the lobby. Pearl and Lola chat with one another as you begin to pack everything you’ve used up. “Take care of that for me, ladies. I’ll finish it later on once I’m done outside” 

Pearl acknowledged your request with a wave of her hand, Lola busying herself with a row she’d accidentally messed up. 

Now halfway across the room, you stop by a window to straighten out your outfit and brush your fingers through your hair. You’d undoubtedly look more worn than the last time you’d seen him in person, probably a little older because of that. Fucking private line calls. 

Just… smile, you tell yourself over and over again.

Stepping out into the hall, you clasp your hands together “Mr Salamanca, a pleasure to see you again”. You hated formalities as much as the next person, but you’d get a hit to the nose if someone were to hear you addressing a resident's family member so casually. You weren’t sure why that was a rule, perhaps because some could interpret that as special treatment, whilst others may just deem it inappropriate considering. 

He opens out his arms dramatically, calling your name “been a while hm? I thought something had happened to my favourite worker.” You chuckle under your breath, nervously, as Simon awkwardly shuffles behind the desk watching your interaction. 

“It has I’m afraid, I’ve been busy” that was a half lie, though you imagined he could simply infer that based on how tired you looked compared to the last time you’d spoken. “Family stuff as well, you know how it is haha…” that part was true, your mother had been visiting a lot more recently and she’d made a fuss about it, talking about your father and how he’d been drinking himself into an almost comatose state. She was being theatrical, as always. Your dad didn't drink that much, though you knew he'd been going to the local bar more frequently, you had a school friend that worked there. 

Lalo nods, knowingly, as if he's aware “Aye, but it's good you're there for them” you shrug, picking at your sleeves as your cheeks grow warmer. You wished Simon would just sit and get back to work. Why did he have to stand like an idiot? “La Familia es todo, no?”

You nod, your hands now clasped at your front, it was nice to see him- he looked gorgeous, the cotton sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows. You loved how flamboyant his clothes were. “That's right”, he grins and slaps a hand on the desk countertop, making Simon jump.

“Anyway, are you on your break yet? I think we should go out somewhere right now”

You swallow and glance around, fingers running through your hair as Lalo waits for an answer. Simon shuffles again before sitting down, getting back to whatever he had been doing before lalo entered. “I- wait a second” you press a hand to his arm and usher him to a vacant hallway, far enough from the desk so Simon wouldn't hear.

“I had my break about an hour ago, aren’t you here to see your uncle?”

At your question, he laughs whilst brushing some of your hair back with his hand. His smile was so… adorable. Whenever his dark eyes slightly scrunched and his cheeks lifted you wanted to just pinch them hard. “Bebita, I visited my uncle yesterday, you must’ve been on a break then… I would’ve said hi, but..” he sighed, you couldn’t help but watch his chest as it rose and fell, “work, it’s a pain in the neck but I’m heading home soon and quite a few things have happened since we last saw each other..” he looks down at his feet for a split second, as if he were thinking. For an instant, you have the urge to reach out and take his hand in your own. 

You go to open your lips to speak, but he cuts you off enthusiastically in a breath. “so, I figured I'd give myself the day off, and have Nachito man the ship for a few hours without me!”

“So… you want me to hang out with you today while you’re on your day off?”

“Exactamente, mi Amor, how long is the remainder of your shift?” he touches your shoulder, and you feel the rough texture of his palm through your linen work blouse. 

“Well, I finish at 9:30 tonight… I’m taking over a friend’s shift” Jen, as always, was going partying with her boyfriend- asking, no, pleading with you to take over the few hours she’d miss.

“I’m sure you can skip this one, besides, you won’t get into trouble for leaving a shift that isn’t yours, right?”

You shrug, unsure. What he says makes sense, you really had stuck your neck out for Jennifer again- no one would notice if you left, right? You could talk to Simon about it if he had a problem, though based on how he’d acted around Lalo you doubt that he will say anything. 

“I guess… I haven’t got any other clothes but these, though”

Lalo hums, “That doesn’t matter, Princesa, we’re not going anywhere special tonight”

You blush, wondering what on earth he meant by that. Did he mean there’d be other nights out? Or was he just talking generally? The silence between you is broken by him, as he begins to walk toward the exit.

“Wait, i-” you flush, straightening out your hair “can you wait for me outside? I’m gonna go grab my things from the break room”

Lalo chuckles and nods, lips pursed together tight as you pace into the staff room, making a b-line toward your locker.

You don’t have much with you- a shoulder bag and a knee-length trench coat. In your bag, you kept all the necessities, though always managed to cram a book in there for good measure. Unfortunately,  the count of monte Cristo took up most of the room, though it was invigorating and despite the added strain to your shoulder you didn’t mind carrying it with you.

You slipped into your jacket, letting it swing open as you quickly combed your hair and applied strawberry-flavoured lip balm. Once ready, you checked the time on your phone and walked back out into the hallway, shoes thumping against the tiles. Simon looked up as you pulled the door, clearing his throat.

“Oh- could you sign me out at 6:30 tonight, Si? I’ll buy you breakfast on Monday if you like. eggs and bacon from Loyola’s, right?” practically out of breath, your lips curve up when you smile at him warmly, lashes fluttering as he nodded. 

“Thanks a bunch!” the warmth of your cheeks leaves as you rush outside, eyes scanning the parking lot, before eventually landing on Lalo. He was leaning against the passenger side, his left arm slung across the side of the car’s roof, his right close to his front as he glanced down at his phone.

You try your best to hold back the foolish smile that’d been begging to tug at either corner of your lips for the last few seconds, and make a few quick steps toward him, hands behind your back once you meet his side. 

“Hello, miss me?” you teased, poking his shoulder. He shrugged his broad shoulders and smirked, stepping aside.

“Like a desert misses the rain”

You laugh a little, clutching the worn leather strap of your bag as he opens the door, motioning for you to enter with his tattooed arm. “ after you”

Sliding inside, you roll your back against the leather seat, wishing your car was as comfortable as this. Lalo makes his way around the front once you’re buckled up, pulling himself into the driver's side. You glance his way, staring for a moment, watching as he snakes the seat belt across his body. The way his biceps contract and relax, and his shirt tightens around the muscle-

“You know, it’s rude to stare, right?” 

You look away, down at your knees as he laughs, the engine purrs to life and the sound of upbeat Latin music reverberates against the metal frame, which he then turns down a tad.

“I-” you hesitate, picking at loose threads on your shirt, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” 

He huffs, pointedly at your discomfiture, as he begins to reverse from his spot. You redden when he places an arm against the back of your seat, pivoting his torso to look through the rearview.

“I’ll have to come back later to pick up my car, you know…”

He smiles down at you, faintly. “Don’t worry about it, you don’t work weekends, right?”

“Well, no, but I might need my car tomorrow…”

Lalo hums and you keep your eyes pinned on him, though occasionally look out past the windscreen “I’ll come with you to pick it up” he glances over your frame as you move against the seat, knees pointing in his direction as your small hands trace across the leather’s texture. “Alright, that sounds alright”

------------

The car ride is reasonably peaceful, the sound of the music drones as you perch your elbow on the window frame and lean against your palm. You tap your feet along to the music, loving the rhythmic quality. It made you want to dance.

Lalo took notice at a red light, smiling to himself as you continued to pat your foot against the interior carpet, your fingers now drumming against your leg to the beat. It looked like you were playing an invisible piano. “Like the music then, Princesa?”

You turn to face him, eyes half-lidded. The low vibration of the car had slowly been lulling you, the fatigue from earlier caught up. “Yeah, it’s nice… hey, can we go for a walk in the park and get some ice cream?” you’d been craving the sweet treat since last night, when you’d actually been in a similar position to now, driving home past a small ice cream shop you adored as a kid.

He furrowed his brows, hitting his fingers against the car wheel as you leaned in without realising; he hadn’t actually made a plan of where to take you, he didn’t really know many good places around here, only the ones Ignacio had recommended. “Sure, what park?”

“There's a nice park a few minutes from here- it has a lot of well-kept flowerbeds and a pond”

“Wow” he draws out the word, “sounds like a… pretty average park, querida”

You frown, digging through your bag to whip out your flip phone, “it's nice, you probably haven’t been there yet is all.” he stops for a moment, dark eyes meeting your own as he scoffs, playfully.

“I’m only playing, querida.” his voice is low, and his accent lingers on his words as he speaks. You love it, he’s gorgeous and you don’t think you’ve ever been in the presence of a man as perfect as him. 

You scowl, brows creasing as your hands move to place your phone back in your bag, he matches your stare and your smile. Laughing, he continues to drive much to the delight of the man sitting behind his Chevy Monte Carlo. 

“This almost seems too good to be true” you whisper to yourself, still leaning against the edge of the window as Lalo pulls next to the park, the green gate framing it lined with bunting and art projects kids from the local schools had made. 

Back when you started working at casa tranquila you’d come here at the end of the day and take a walk around the small pond. You weren’t sure why you did, you could’ve just driven straight home, but you didn’t.

You’re pulled from the memory by Lalo when he swings the door open and steps out, the sound of gravel crunching beneath his feet leads you to unhook your belt and smile as he rounds to your side.

The older man reaches out for you to take his hand and you do with as much grace as you’re able to muster up. “Thanks, I've been a bit… tired lately”

He quirks a brow and you huff, straightening out your outfit and tucking your locks behind your ear as he pries “tired? Work got you busier than usual I’m guessing?” he places a hand against the small of your back, leading you through the entrance. You hardly notice his touch at first, thinking it’d just been the breeze, but when you do, your cheeks warm and the hairs on your arms stand to attention. “I-” you hesitate and look down at your feet as you both take slow steps around the path panelled with strands of grass along the edge. You take your lower lip between your teeth, peering up at him. He was listening, carefully, intently like he actually valued what you were about to say. Daniel hadn’t been like that, not near the end anyway.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, chica” 

You nod, and he thinks you’re sweet when you stutter and are unable to find the right words. That changes when you reach the pond in the centre of the park, where a paddle of ducks surveys the waterfront, happily accepting breadcrumbs from a few children and their parents. You tell him how much you love birds, how great you think it is that they can fly away whenever shit gets too crazy. He makes a joke about how it must suck to be a chicken then, and you laugh sincerely for the first time today. 

You walk quickly to a bench that overlooked the park beautifully, beckoning him over. You swear you see him roll his eyes, but he does so comically and then sits beside you, legs apart with his hands knit together between them.  “You know what, I hadn’t been anticipating a trip to the park today, but its a lot nicer than what I expected… lots of kids running around and lots of,” he takes a deep breath “lots of ducks”

you tilt your head “ yeah, you haven’t seen ducks before or something?”

He snorts, shoving your knee away from him with his palm, gently. “Well obviously I have, I’m just saying, well, actually I’m making an… observation” his hands move back to where they’d been a moment ago, and you beam at him stupidly before looking back at the lake, relaxing against the wood that right now feels like the most comfortable place you’ve ever sat. 

“Lalo?”

He glances over you as you shuffle around, “Yeahhh?” 

“Tell me about Mexico, what’s it like? I’ve always wanted to visit” you rest your cheek against the ball of your wrist, hooded eyes set on his as he moves his torso to face your body.

“Well, like most places depends where you go, I guess” 

Dissatisfied with that answer, you poke his forearm “c’mon, be real with me now, what about where you grew up?”

“Wow, I feel like I’m under interrogation here, Princesa, shouldn’t I have a lawyer present?” you laugh at his joke, and he smiles, finding it funny how you have no fucking clue what he’s been up to here, what he and Ignacio have been up to, in-fact, under everyone's unsuspecting noses.

“Well,” he sighs, gesturing with his hands as he spoke “I grew up in Michoacán, where my uncle raised me and my cousins- you know Hector well enough by now, he’s… macho,” you nod, showing him you’re listening as he talks enthusiastically about his family. It warms your heart, and he hates the way you look at him, that innocence in your eyes. He hates it but fucking loves it. “Oh god, you have no idea, Mija, you should’ve seen him when he was well,” he claps his hands together, startling you for a moment.

“Oh?” 

“Yeah, oh god when we were kids, I talked back to him - I was a… cocky like that, as a kid,” you giggle, muttering a ‘yes’, egging him on to continue the story, and he does so with as much energy as before.  “He dunked my head underwater, like fully in there and.. Oh god you’ll love this” he laughs at the memory, and so far you have no idea what to expect. Seeing Hector immobile in his wheelchair, it was hard to imagine him young looking after his nephews, but even harder to imagine the elder dunking a child…

“ he held me there for a minute, I thrashed around for a bit, gave him a show and then went as stiff as a board, and uncle hector he- he grabs me by my shoulders and yanks me out of the water basin,” he places his hands on your shoulders, shaking you slowly as if to imitate young Hector.

“And fully panics, absolutely craps his pants- whilst I'm there playing dead, he goes to call for help when i splash him and run off into the garden” you can’t help but laugh with him as he continues on, telling you how Hector went all red like a tomato- so embarrassed by his mistake, how he had been fooled by a 7-year-old Lalo. The way he moves his arms and gestures as he talks, the enthusiasm and performative aspect of his personality gave you butterflies, hearing him talk about his family, he really loved them. He struck you as the type of guy that’d move heaven and earth for people he cared about. 

“Oh god, Lalo, your uncle and my grandpa would get along… swimmingly”

He breathes out, leaning back against the bench as you talk “yeah, maybe” he admired your optimism, how you thought someone like Hector would get along with your gramps- the naivety of your 22-year-old mind. The fact you hadn’t a clue what he did was hilarious, he wondered whether or not you were like this with all the men you went out with. 

“So, tell me about your childhood then, querida” 

You freeze and purse your lips together, the point of your shoes drawing loose circles in the dirt path.

“Well uh, my parents argued a lot when I was a kid, so I spent a lot of my time with my grandparents… they’re nice…pretty much raised me, honestly.” you pause again, looking at the pond remembering all the arguments you had to listen to, you understood nothing at the time but looking back on it now in retrospect was frightening. “There were good times, I think, I just can’t remember them very well…”

Lalo glances at you, his expression unreadable as he places a hand on your shoulder- patting twice. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry” 

You laugh and stand up from the seat, shaking your head “no, don’t worry about it! It's fine, honestly, shit happens” you wondered why he hadn’t mentioned his own parents, but refrain from prodding that wound open. 

“Well on that note, shall we head to that parlour now? I don’t know about you but ever since you mentioned it in the car…”  he stands up and begins to walk around the other side of the pond, close to the railing. You take a few quick steps after him, hands in your pockets as you both make your way to the exit.

------------

The car ride from the parlour is quiet, and you shuffle your feet against the carpeted floor, knee bouncing as Lalo keeps his eyes on the road. Unfortunately, the parlour was closed. They shut early on Fridays according to the sign in the window, much to your dismay. Lalo wasn’t too bothered about the lack of ice cream, he wasn’t really a big fan though he’d been wanting to get around whilst he was here, maybe try a few new things- like rocky road, whatever the hell that was. At the change of plans, he figured he’d just drive around for a bit, maybe go and get something to eat.

You as of now rest against the window, snoring lightly. Fast asleep. 

It was amusing, though made sense. You looked exhausted. 

It took him 30 minutes to find your place without direction when it could’ve taken 15, yet he hadn’t a problem with driving around. besides, he had nothing better to do. Ignacio had last called him at 12, giving him some information on Fring. He’d make sense of it later, probably had something to do with Werner Zeigler and that ice box he was supposedly building. 

As he parked up beside your house, your phone started to ring, loud- rousing you from your sleep. He watched as you groaned and pulled the flip from your bag. It looked a lot older from where he sat, the bag. The leather was worn and one of the metal clasps had fallen off. He saw the book popping out, how many do you have in this little house of yours, and where do you keep them?

“God, not this again…” 

He tilts his head, and you whine into your palm- looking like you were going to start crying. You muttered something beneath your breath, but he couldn’t quite catch it in time.

“Everything okay?”

You shake your head, he doesn’t notice but his grip tightens on the wheel as you do. “Tell me” this obviously was what you’d been worried about, what you hadn’t wanted to mention at the park earlier.

“I-i keep getting these weird phone calls, there’s quiet beeps on the other end and nothing else- and when i wake up in the morning there’s all this…” you sniffle, eyes brimming with tears- you feel pathetic, crying in front of a man you hardly know “ weird stuff outside my house, I'm not crazy Lalo I swear I think someone’s stalking me- or after me, something like that, I've been getting this weird stuff for a while now and- and-”

You press your face into your hands, and he sits there unsure of what to do as you sob quietly. Your phone stops ringing for a moment. He goes to open his mouth to ask a question when it rings for a second time. The same private number. 

“Give me that,” he takes the phone from your lap, and for a split second you want to tell him to stop, but you don’t. Because you want him to protect you. 

“Hello?” when he talks this time, he doesn’t sound as sincere or friendly, actually pretty pissed off as he inhales through gritted teeth, stifles a laugh and snaps the phone shut. “Maldito cabrón… fucker hung up on me.” 

Your hands fall into your lap, and you look up at him, cheeks stained with tears. He sighs and snaps the phone in half as though it were nothing. “L-Lalo what the hell?! That’s my phone, everyone I need is on that” 

He shrugged and tossed both halves into the backseat. 

“I’ll get you a new phone,” you go to open your mouth when he cuts you off, his rough hand pressed against the back of yours “do you have any idea who it could be?”

You shake your head again, he suspects you’re lying and gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to be afraid”

Your eyes flicker toward him and then back down at the hands on your lap. 

“My ex, Daniel, he was pretty weird- a pretty possessive guy and i- I don’t know if he’d go as far as stalking me but... I wouldn't be surprised, you know?” Lalo nods, asking if there’s anything he can do for you now. You lift your shoulders and let them fall, your eyes were swollen and cheeks flushed- still a little embarrassed from the meltdown.

“Can… you stay with me for a little while, please? Just so I can sleep a little” you sigh, sniffling as he squeezes your hand again “I don’t want to be alone, god knows what he’ll do if he knows I'm with another guy, maybe he’ll…”

“Listen to me, he won’t do anything to you.” 

He steps out of the car and moves to your side, helping you out similarly to how he had at the park- though this time you handled it a lot less gracefully. 

------------

It’s now 1:00 am and you’re sound asleep beside him on the sofa, you have been for a few hours, actually. He’d gotten himself comfortable and turned on this old-school black-and-white movie with cowboys and guns. The kind hector was obsessed with watching. You stir from your end of the couch, and he shifts to give you more room. The blanket draped across your frame is soft, and for a moment he finds himself running his hands across the top. Earlier in the park, he actually enjoyed your conversation, he liked when people took an outside interest in his life. People he knew, people that knew what he did would ask questions but were never really genuine about it. Their kindness was always conditional, and he sometimes wondered if he could trust anyone other than the handful of family members he had left.

He looks at his watch, 1:24, he better get going. 

Lalo reaches out, lifting the blanket up to try and get to the inside pocket of your shirt- where you had put the keys to your home upon entering. Though before he could, you sat up abruptly, your head almost hitting his as he’d been half leaning over the top of you.

“Lalo, is everything okay?” you rub your eyes, appearing so small and innocent as you do. He nods his head, yes, and you smile, taking his hands in yours. You’re half asleep and have no idea what you’re doing, but he lets you hold him like that for a second before slowly pulling back and manoeuvring off the sofa. He hears a whine, which makes him chuckle, you’re funny when you’re tired. If he could stay he’d tease you about it, but now he had some other things planned, he had texted Nacho and asked him to pick up a new phone for you, and managed to find your ex-boyfriend's full name whilst you were out.

“Querida, I have to go now”

You huff, sit up properly, and swing your legs over the side of the couch. The metal of the keys jingle against one another in your pocket as you stand, almost falling over. 

“Easy, kid” you laugh, voice hoarse with sleep as he follows you to the front door.

Your home is only on one level, there are no stairs, which for you is great. Had you been alone in a story house, you’d probably fall down the stairs or hell, maybe even fall up the stairs after seeing him to the door.

“Thank you for staying with me Lalo, you’re such a sweetheart..”

He sighs, brushing off your compliment as though he’d heard it a million times before.

“Esta Bien, my friend has gone to get you a new phone, I’ll have him bring it here tomorrow morning” he tussles your hair, you whine again and try to flatten it, still trying to make yourself look pretty for him. 

“Alright, wait uh, Lalo will I…” you swallow, and he notices your hands bunch up the fabric of your shirt, “ will I see you again, before you leave?”

You sound almost sad, and he wants to just squeeze the life out of you. How adorable. You’ve talked to him twice in person, yet somehow you still manage to get upset at the idea of him leaving…

“Of course, bebita, we can arrange something soon, no?” he opens the door and walks out, you follow him in a few small steps and grab ahold of his wrist.

“Yeah, when everything is better” you stand tall and press a kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a moment. Your lips are soft, and he wants to take your face in his hands and kiss you hard- but he doesn’t. He reminds himself you’re just a girl, a woman he met a few weeks ago as you let him leave.

He sits in the car for a few minutes after you’d locked the door, staring at your home from the curbside. Once you turn the lights off, he pushes on the gas and speeds off into the night.

Daniel, who do you think you are?

ahhh thank you so much for reading i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, if you have any suggestions for what you'd like to see happen next please let me know in the comments xx

#lalo x reader #lalo salamanca x reader #eduardo ‘lalo’ salamanca x reader #eduardo 'lalo' salamanca #better call saul x reader #tony dalton x reader #better call saul #lalo salamanca