Quentin Beck x Reader.

Control. (SMUT)

PART TWO TO 'NEIGHBORS' 

A/N: So, fun fact, this is my first time writing a second person type smut! I've done roleplays with my friends before but I've never actually... done this kind of smut. So, I apologize if it sucks ass but -- I'll get better I promise!

WARNING: Porn with implied plot, across-apartment teasing, minor phone sex (more like flirting), reader tries to get dominance but Quentin is too dominant for that lmao learn your place, implied consent, dry humping, and obviously - literal hot kinky sex.

It's been a week - one long, dreadfully boring week. That's how long it's been since your initial meeting with 'Mystery Boy', or Quentin as he insists you stop calling him anything but. You haven't had much time to interact since the neighborhood get-together, but now that you both are aware of your bedroom windows being a few yards across from one another you've communicated in particularly interesting ways.

The first time you caught him peeping through his window his cheeks turned a soft pink as you watched him laugh a bit, ducking his head as he pushed himself back in a rolly-chair. You couldn't genuinely hear his laugh, but his smile alone made you swoon from across the tiny strait separating apartment buildings.

Your second time it was a mutual catch, you had your elbows propped on your desk expertly placed below the window in question as you zoned out a stare towards the other building, he was coming home from wherever he was employed (which called him to wear a black button up and tie with dress pants, you internally thanked his workplace dress code) as he tossed his bag to his bed. Quentin reached up and grabbed at his tie, loosening it around his neck as he made direct eye contact with you through an open window. Now, it was your turn to have a soft blush creep over your delicate features.

You two continued to attempt communication, until eventually Quentin had a brilliant idea of holding his fingers up to 'spell' out his phone number - you realized how stupid the both of you were for waiting that long in the first place, but at least you got it. The two of you had began to text along with the exchanged goofy looks from window to window, but it was all innocent up until one day.

You had gotten home from work late, expecting his bedroom light to already be turned off as you stepping into your minimalistic bedroom. Without checking the window, you made your way towards your closet as you hang your purse on the handle, reaching up with your now free hands to yank your pony-tail free from the hairtie's hold. It had been a long day at your workplace and quite honestly you needed to let go of your tension from your boring office job.

Without even turning on your bedroom light, your hands found themselves struggling to grip the back zipper of your form fitting black work-dress. As your delicate finger grazes against the metal zipper, you catch it between your thumb and middle finger as you finally are able to pull it down. Once the dress is loosened, you're able to lift your arms and slide the straps off your moonlit shoulders, letting out a deep sigh of comfort once the dress falls to the floor.

The action leaves you in nothing but your matching bra and panty set. For a moment you savor the quiet, nothing but the mechanical whirl of your air conditioning echoing throughout the bedroom faintly as the cold air brushes against your partially naked body, you allow yourself to take a few more well deserved breaths as you stand your place in the middle of your room - internally contemplating whether or not you should go to bed or take a shower. However, these thoughts are interrupted by the sound of your phone buzzing on your bed.

It's Quentin, he's calling. Your eyebrows furrow as you bend down to pick up the phone, your eyes darting to your alarm clock that reads '12:43 AM'. You fight the urge to simply send him to voicemail and call him the next day, you are truly exhausted, but as you stand quietly in the middle of your moon lit room you wonder why he's calling this late at night; although you're tired, your curiosity gets the best of you and you answer.