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pullhisteeth · 1 year

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classified | eddie munson x reader

summary at your wits end, you put an ad in the classifieds for a special kind of tutor. Eddie finds it and takes you up on the offer. (nsfw) [13k]

contains smut (18+ minors dni!) – p in v sex, oral (f receiving), lots of praise, virgin!reader, fem!reader, hurt/comfort. eddie's a sweetheart, fluff, first time turned something more (?).

author's notes this one's a long one! the idea made me laugh and then it took on a life of its own. I want to say this is meant to be somewhat lighthearted and is not a suggestion that anyone should be having sex if they haven't already – your body's yours, baby, do whatever you want! no one should ever make you feel rushed into anything!!! anyway Eddie is an angel and I want one. bye!

Eddie's not sure why he's reading the newspaper. Boredom, perhaps; he's been waiting for Wayne to get home from his shift for over an hour. He's thought about calling the plant, but the walk from the couch to the phone seems to be the perfect amount of time to convince himself that he's probably on his way home already.

It's the Hawkins Post. It gets delivered by a snot-nose boy on a bike every week, thrown far too hard at their tin front door. Wayne reads it some weeks, others it gets used to wrap his lunch. Apparently this one he'd read it, flicked through the pages half-heartedly before leaving it open on a centrefold about the local elections. Trust Wayne to get bored of small-town politics, Eddie thinks.

So he picks up where Wayne left off, slowly pulling the pages apart, skimming stories about the endemic of teen pregnancy, or columns about the rejuvenation plans for downtown Hawkins.

Finally, he reaches the only bit of the newspaper that Eddie has ever found interesting: the classifieds (and, on the back of the classifieds, the call-girl ads).

He skims them, eyes brushing past ads for cleaners, dog walkers, nannies. Finds the ones hidden at the bottom – the letters written in code, ads for attractive female friends and women seeking younger men. He's never actually interested in them, but they provide a glimpse into the underbelly of Hawkins, a small town that is, for all intents and purposes, entirely normal. But nowhere is ever truly normal, and Eddie likes to seize the opportunity to pry into the scandalous goings-on of his boring hometown.

He's reading one about swingers when the one beside it catches his eye. It's plain – whoever paid for it kept their costs to a minimum. All it says is:

WOMAN, 23, SEEKING FIRST TIME.

He stares at the bold ink, the statement in all caps that, despite being maybe the lowest cost ad in the whole paper – it's in a box about three inches tall in the very corner of the page – jumps out at him anyway. Underneath the title, it reads: young woman looking for judgement-free first time. Min. age 22, max. age 28. Must have experience. At the very bottom, in almost imperceptible print, is a phone number.

Eddie hadn't realised how close his face was to the page until he hears the familiar sound of Wayne's car pull up outside. He throws the paper down onto his lap and sighs before scrambling around to at least try to look casual, and not like all the blood has rushed to his face. In the few seconds he has between the sound of Wayne's car door closing and him coming up the stairs, Eddie tears the page out, folding it quickly and shoving it into the back pocket of his jeans as he stands.

The door opens just as he gets to his feet, and Wayne comes trudging in with his steel lunch pail and heavy boots.

"Hey, Wayne," Eddie says, breathless, trying his best to sound level. Wayne eyes him as he closes the door, before turning to dump his stuff on the table.

"C'mon, kid, you promised me a burger."

The piece of newspaper stays in Eddie's pocket for three more days.

Wayne had been late getting home – something came up, but Eddie wasn't listening too hard, brain on that stupid ad instead – so their weekly trip to Benny's had run until the early hours of Friday morning.

And then Friday was work and Hellfire, which Eddie still leads despite having graduated two years ago, and this time the kids kept him going for hours. By the time he got home he hadn't even thought about the page before crashing into bed.

And then Saturday is family day, as Nancy puts it. Eddie had woken up late, rolled out of bed into the freshest clothes he could find, and into his van to act as bus driver for the morning. His little gaggle of unruly teenagers crammed into the back of it one by one, laughing and teasing and shouting. Steve's home became louder and still, Eddie relished in that feeling of peace he gets once a week with all these misfits he calls friends.

By Sunday morning, the newspaper had been long forgotten in the pocket of his jeans that he'd left in a pile on his bedroom floor. He's laid on his back on his bed, head dangling off the edge, puffing mindlessly on a spliff he'd rolled for himself two days ago that had also been forgotten. The room's a little fuzzy round the edges, just the way he likes it, the sunlight creeping warm paws up his arms. It smells funny in here, he thinks, so he turns over, pushes himself off the bed, and reaches up to open his window. On his way back to his bed, he trips on something, landing with a huff as his ribs hit the corner of the mattress.

"Fuck," he hisses, reaching down to pull the culprit off the floor. It's just an old pair of jeans, so he throws them into the corner, out of the way, and resumes his position, splayed out across the bed.

From this angle, with his head hanging upside down, he spots something by the pile of denim he'd just discarded.

His brain's ticking over slowly under the haze of being stoned, but after a second he realises what it is, and clambers all too quickly off the bed and across the room.

Maybe it's that haze, coating his brain with thick fog; maybe it's the fact that, in the year since he graduated, he's had to settle for quick fucks behind the Hideout after a gig; or maybe, just maybe, it's dangerous curiosity.

Whatever it is, something motivates him to move through his room, down the narrow corridor into the kitchen. There's something hijacking his limbs, and it reaches up to the phone on the wall. With eyes on the page in his hand he spins the dial, listening to the tone as it rings, rings, rings.

The longer he stands there, the more convinced he becomes in his intoxicated miasma that this is some kind of prank; he's going to be met with a stupid kid on the other end, laughing at him for bothering to call at all.

When he finally decides that this is just that, a practical joke, the line clicks. There's a low buzz on the other end, so low he thinks maybe the line just went dead, but then a voice.

"Hello?"

He's taken aback by the sound of it, but not so much that he doesn't notice the sleep coating it. Despite his stupor, he can't help but apologise.

"Shit, sorry, did I wake you?"

"Who is this?" You're sharper now, coming to, and he kicks himself for fucking this up already.

"Oh, shit, uh, sorry. I called about… I got this number, uh, in the paper."

"Fuck," he hears you whisper. He's not sure if he was supposed to hear it. He feels bad.

"Sorry, I'll go, this was-"

"Look, I put that age range in the ad for a reason. I'm sick of gettin' calls from middle aged men, I-"

"I'm twenty-three."

You're silent on the other end for a moment, but he can hear your breath hitch.

"Well, shit," you finally say. "Y'don't sound it."

He laughs an awkward, stilted laugh, unsure what to say.

"Sorry, I've had so many guys – men, old men – callin' me up, tryin' to flirt with me down the phone, I just… The ad was a mistake, clearly."

He likes the way you talk. You've got a pretty voice.

"Uh, thanks," you say.

Shit.

"Fuck, sorry, did I say that out loud?" Moron.

You laugh, the sound fizzing down the telephone line, and it eases some of his insecurity.

"I'm sorry," he says, starting fresh. "I'll leave you be, have a good-"

"Wait," you bite, and he can hear you shuffling around. "Wait just a sec, I- fuck, where the fuck is it? I… Sorry, can you just wait for a second?"

"Sure, sure," he murmurs, trailing off when he realises you've set the phone down. He listens to the faint sounds of you rummaging around and swearing under your breath. He must look like an idiot, stood in his kitchen, smiling at his phone, waiting for a stranger he found in the paper.

He hears you coming back, footsteps getting louder, before you pick the phone back up.

"Y'still there?"

"Yeah," he laughs. You speak to him like he's an old friend and it keeps catching him off guard.

"Okay," you say. "Here's the thing. I put that stupid ad in the paper because I was sad, and my life has been a misery since then, because literally every guy who's called me has been, like, at least forty, which some people are into I guess but I'm not, and- Sorry."

You're rambling, stumbling over your words even though he can tell you're trying to be professional or something. He stays quiet and hopes you'll keep going.

After a beat, you say, "I guess, 'cause you called, you'd be up for it?"

"Uh, well," he stammers. "That's kinda why I called. Care to explain what it is you want, exactly?"

He's not sure where the sudden confidence has come from; maybe the weed's wearing off.

"Okay, yeah," you breathe. "So, uh, my plan, I guess, was that I'd… You'd take, uh, my virginity."

You almost whisper the last part, like it's some kind of slur, and Eddie can't help but laugh on the other end.

You start to sound exasperated, frustrated, so he tries to claw you back.

"Sorry, sorry, it's just so… frank."

"Well, bein' all coy about it hasn't really worked out for me so far."

Can't argue with that logic.

"Okay," he says, trying to ignore the excitement bubbling inside him. You're a stranger, he's a stranger, and this whole thing is kind of weird. Shit, he thinks. Am I a perv?

"How do you want to do this?"

"Well," you start, sounding like you've got this part planned out. "First I need to know you're not gonna murder me or something, so I'll give you an address near my house but not at my house, and we can meet there whenever… and, uh, what year were you born?"

"What?"

"Just… So I feel a bit more sure you're actually twenty-three."

"Hah, okay. 1965."

"Okay, sweet. You got a pen?"

"Shit, yeah, one sec."

His eyes dart around the room. With the phone between his ear and his shoulder, he moves as far as the cord will let him, to a drawer by the front door. At the back there's an old pencil and some scraps of junk mail.

"Got it!" he declares, too enthusiastic but it makes you giggle so he laughs too.

"Okay," you start, and you tell him an address he vaguely recognises, closer to the nicer side of town, halfway between here and where Steve's house is.

"It's a park, kind of. It's pretty public anyways, so if you were, y'know, planning to kill me or whatever, don't bother."

"I'll take that off the to-do list," he tells you through a smirk.

"Very funny," you say, your sentence half-formed like you can't find the words to finish it. "Wait, what's your name?"

"Eddie. Munson."

"Okay, Eddie Munson," you say before telling him yours and deciding that you'll meet him later that day. You tell him it's easier that way, that you can't bear to have to wait all week, sitting on the nerves that might make you change your mind.

That's exactly what Eddie does all afternoon. You'd decided on six that evening, when it's still light but late enough that you both have time to back out, and so he sits, stoned out of his mind on both weed and the phone call, feeling something he's rarely felt before.

It's like cola in his gut, bubbling and frothing every time he tries to move. Is this what people feel when they say they have butterflies? Because it doesn't really feel like that; it feels instead like the madness inside him is floating upwards, fizzing around his heart, prodding and poking at it at uneven rhythms. His mind is reeling, too; he hadn't really thought this through at all. What if, even after that call, you're still planning on playing some kind of trick on him? What if this is an elaborate scheme to publicly humiliate him? Maybe you get a kick out of that kind of thing.

There's another thing, creeping around at the back of his mind, lurking. It's that horrid hopefulness, the what if that feels so far from likely that if he lends too much time to thinking about it, he feels stupid.

What if you're great?

He shakes himself out, standing up off his bed. He'd been lying there for the past two hours, sobering up, dwelling on every detail of the call, lingering in particular on your voice and your laugh and the way you say sweet so often.

He doesn't know who you are. He didn't recognise your name when you told him, even though you're his age. He didn't recognise your voice either, but he likes it, and he wasn't lying when he (accidentally) told you it's pretty.

He looks at the clock beside his bed. The red numbers flicker as they change to 16:52.

One hour.

He's early.

It's ten to six, and he's early.

The sun's low but not gone yet, and the park you sent him to is actually kind of nice. He's in his van, waiting until it's a socially acceptable time to get out and wait for you. What is the socially acceptable time to get out and wait for the girl you've got an agreement like this with?

Before he can decide, he sees someone. They're in jeans and a jacket, red Chucks and hair lifting up in the breeze.

Without thinking about it too hard, he opens the door and hops out, slamming it a little too hard. The person looks over, catches his mop of hair over the top of the van, and stops walking.

"Eddie?"

He hears you call his name over the sound of his boots crunching on the ground as he rounds the front of the van. He looks over to find you, the person he saw walking over, looking at him with your hand at your brow, blocking the sun.

You're pretty – really pretty. He still doesn't recognise you, but he has decided that's surely for the best.

You don't recognise him, either, but he's hot. He's not what you expected; truthfully, you really had expected someone older, lying about their age to get in your pants, someone you'd have to turn down in this very public space, going back to your apartment alone and unsatisfied. This is not what you had in mind at all, but you're not mad about it.

As he comes towards you, you watch the way he walks, chest-first like he's exactly where he should be. His hair's long and a bit wild but it matches his style – ringer tee, messy black jeans, obnoxious denim jacket. He's got his hands in his pockets but when he lifts one out to wave at you awkwardly, you see the rings and know you're a goner.

You wave back, laughing lightly as he nears you. He's taller than you so you really have to squint to see him against the setting sun.

"Hey," he says softly. His voice is even nicer in person; he does sound older than he is, and he has an air of maturity about him, like he's too sure in himself to be 23, but there's also a boyishness somewhere underneath that endears you.

"Hi," you reply. "You're Eddie, right?"

He looks around himself, head whipping back and forth.

"No, doll," he says, looking at you with a blank face. "I'm Keith."

"Oh," you say, trying to hide the flush in your cheeks and the way your face drops, but then he laughs and reaches out to hold your shoulder.

"Sorry, that was a bad joke." He squeezes. "Yeah, I'm Eddie."

You choose to ignore the overly familiar touch and the way it sends your knees all funny, and instead you laugh, a little awkwardly, and hold out a hand.

"Nice to meet ya," you say, firm.

He looks down at your hand as he drops his own from your shoulder. His eyes move between it and your face, but he shakes it anyway.

"Well?" he asks, and you watch as he smirks, staring you down, his hand still in yours.

"What?"

"Do I look like a serial killer? Scared I'm gonna murder you?"

With those final words he pulls on your hand, bringing you closer to himself. His confidence is only making that funny feeling in your knees worse, but what you don't know is that he's bluffing; before you stands a terrified boy struck dumb by a pretty girl.

"Hm," you hum, dialling up the dramatics to ponder his appearance. You take the chance to scan your eyes up and down his body, taking in the scuffs on his shoes and the pretty silver chain around his neck. From here you can smell weed and cigarette smoke, pretty aftershave and something deeper. "I don't think so."

"Damn," he quips, finally releasing your hand to run his own through his wild mass of hair. "I was really tryin' to look scary."

"You didn't do a very good job," you tell him, laughing softly, and he looks at you with a smile.

"Oh well," he says. "Maybe next time."

Ignoring the way that makes you feel, you take his hand again. It's your turn to pull him, dragging him behind you. The move startles him and he drags his feet for a moment before catching up, refusing to let go of your hand when you try. He swings them between your bodies theatrically as you walk him across the park, through a line of tall oak trees and onto the street on the other side.

"So," he says, drawing out the word. "We goin' to your parents' or somethin'?"

"No," you reply, shaking your head slightly with your eyes on the ground. You drop his hand and stuff yours back in your pocket. "I have an apartment, up by Main Street. This's just a shortcut."

"Oh."

You don't say much more after that. The walk is short; you were right, this is a shortcut to Main Street, one even he didn’t know about. It takes you past Steve's house, and Eddie prays he doesn't happen to be looking out the window at this precise moment.

You live above the pharmacy. You scramble with the lock for a moment, so he stands behind you, bouncing on the balls of his feet and looking around; it's quiet, the usual lull of a Sunday evening, the sun lower than before. He looks at the back of your hair and the way the light catches in it, hears the low curses under your breath as you struggle with the door. And then it's open, and you're inside in the dark, and he has to bring himself back down to Earth.

Your apartment is small. Behind the door there's a narrow staircase, and at the top another door. It brings him into your living space, which is cramped but clearly well-loved. You offer him a drink and step into the kitchen when he says yes.

He lets his eyes pass over the room. The ceiling is low, reminiscent of his own home, though the walls are more solid than the trailer. They're painted a muted, pale blue, a colour he's sure you didn't choose because you've covered as much of them as you can in things: paintings, framed photographs, postcards. The furniture is more to your taste, he assumes. It's all soft, rich greens and pinks.

You bring him a beer as he sits on the couch, sinks into the cushions, toes off his boots.

"Thanks," he says as you pass him the bottle and take a swig of your own. You take your own shoes off and leave them by the door, hanging your jacket on a hook there too.

"So," you begin, padding back over to him and sitting on the opposite end of the couch. "I don't know how this works."

"Well," he says, turning to you with one arm up on the back cushions, "I can talk you through it, but I need t'know where you're at."

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, how far have you gone before? How far do you want to go today?"

"Uh-" You shuffle, squirming into the couch, clearly looking for the right words. "I've never… This is as far as I've ever got."

He breathes a gasp though he's trying to hide it, trying to stick to the agreement of judgement-free. "You've never been kissed?"

You just shake your head and the way your face creases, brows turned down, makes him ache.

"Okay."

"And I want to go all the way," you say quickly, all in one breath, finding your words. "Not too far, no extra shit, like, kinky shit, but the standard."

"O-kay," he says again, smiling this time. "So you know it's not as easy as… As in and out, right?"

"Yes," you spit. He flinches. "Sorry, it's just… It's hard not to feel a bit, like, insecure about all of this. Makes me a bit defensive, I guess."

"It's okay," he soothes, and his tone really does make you feel better. "No judgement here. I'm not new to sex, but I'm just as new to this whole… situation as you are."

"Okay," you sigh.

"Why don't we just chat for a bit? I'm not in a rush if you're not."

"Yeah," you agree. Eddie is easy, you're finding; no dancing around the point, but you feel you're being handled gently. Exactly what you want.

"So did you grow up here?"

Okay, so maybe the 'chatting' suggestion was a bit of a façade for the fact that Eddie has found himself fascinated by you, even in the short time he's known you. Sure, it's only been ten minutes if you're not counting the phone call, but there's something about you that piques his interest. And, if he's honest, he's not sure why he wouldn't recognise someone his own age in Hawkins.

"No, no," you say, leaning over to put your beer on the table. You wipe your mouth quickly with the back of your hand. "I'm from Illinois."

"Why are you here then?" He takes your que and puts his own beer down too, deciding that being intoxicated probably isn't the best idea.

"I dunno," you say, sighing again. Your shoulders go lax as you let yourself sink backwards and look up at the ceiling. "I wanted to go somewhere new, but not somewhere big. And the middle school here was hiring a tech assistant, so I applied."

"And you got the job?"

"Uh-huh. I start in September, figured I'd just move here early, try to find my feet."

"How's that going?"

"Alright, mister questions." You laugh as you say this and sit up, looking at him again with a smile. "It's going okay so far. People are friendlier here, but I haven't exactly found my people yet."

He hums, nodding, and you say, "My turn."

He looks up at you. "Do your worst."

"Did you grow up here?"

"Kind of. Somewhere near here, til I was eleven."

"Why'd you move here?"

"Hah." He goes all rigid and awkward at your question, shrugging his jacket off with his eyes on the ground. You take note of the ink you can see crawling up to his neck under the collar of his shirt. There's something else there, too; something pale and stretched, like a scar.

"It's complicated." That's the answer he settles on, keeping his cards close to his chest. "But I moved in with my uncle when I was in middle school. Been here since then."

"Is that why you're still here? Your uncle?"

"Kind of, but that's also complicated."

"Wow, okay, is everything complicated with you?"

"It doesn't have to be," he says. It throws you for a loop, the way his voice has dropped, fried and kind of… sexy?

You find him looking at you, and suddenly he feels really close. You feel this urge to climb out of yourself, away from this situation that isn't for you; it's never for you. No one has ever wanted to get this close.

"You okay?" he asks, his friendly tone back.

You're grateful he seems to be able to read you so quickly.

"Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay. If you want to, y'know, stop this at any point, just let me know, okay?"

"We haven't even-"

"Will you?" he presses.

"Yes," you promise him. He looks back at you like he's waiting, yearning for something and you don't quite know what.

"Can I ask you something?" he says.

"Mm-hmm."

"Why are you so far away right now?"

He's gone soft, leaning forward toward you, his arm still up on the back of the couch. Your eyes flicker to his fingers and the rings on them, the way they're sparkling slightly in the dipping sun coming through the window.

It fills your mouth with glue. The combination of his proximity and the question leaves you breathless.

"I just…" he continues. "You're hiding from me over there."

He's got a sticky smirk on his face, like he knows the answer and knows you don't want to tell him. He shuffles forward ever so slightly, letting you breach into his space if you want to.

You do, you really, really do – he's a kind stranger, doing a kind thing for you, even if it is a bit odd. You want nothing more than to relinquish yourself to him, and yet you can't.

There's a momentary staring contest between the two of you. The couch feels miles long and yet he's closing in. You feel suffocated.

"I'm gonna come to you," he says after a minute. "Is that okay?"

All you can do is nod at him. It's like your body's on fire, affronted at the idea of being touched by him and yet harbouring some primal urge, deep under the surface, to let him do it anyway.

He pushes his jacket onto the floor with his elbow as he moves himself down the couch toward you. Your eyes follow his arms and the way they stretch, and then the way one of them lifts. He plants his hand firmly on your knee and it burns through the denim of your jeans. You can't tear your eyes from it, staring blankly at his fingers, the way the tendons flex when he squeezes.

"We don't have to do anythin' you don't wanna do, okay?" he tells you. He's watching you, how you're watching his hand, how your hair still lights up in the sun. You're sweet, and pretty, and most of all he longs to know more.

"I'm gonna talk you through it," he continues, "kinda like a teacher, if that's what you want."

When you don't reply, he calls your name softly, and says, "Is that what you want?"

You look up at him and nod again.

"I need to hear it, sweets."

You tell him yes, that is what I want, trying desperately to keep your voice as level as possible, not letting on that it kills you every time he uses a petname like that.

His fingers dance up your thigh and back down to your knee, a repeating pattern that sends you dizzier the closer he gets to you.

"Eddie?"

His hand stills and he looks at you.

"Yeah?"

When he responds, you feel his breath on your face. He's close enough, now; you can really look at him, at the crow's feet by his eyes, the freckles across his cheek, the bend in the bridge of his nose that looks like maybe he broke it once. His eyes are really pretty, browned sugar and syrup, flitting around as he tries to read you.

"I've never been this close to anyone before."

He's watching your eyes as they move over his face, admiring the slight sense of awe in them.

"That's okay."

There's a sudden absence on your leg where his hand leaves it and it aches, like the bone is realigning. You swallow a whine and close your eyes when his hand finds your cheek.

"I'm gonna kiss you now," he whispers. "That okay?"

You nod again and he lets the pads of his fingers smooth backwards into your hair where they take root, his thumb beside your eye. You feel him pull you in and his breath on your nose and then the strange sensation of his lips.

It's new but not unwelcome. He's soft with it, light as anything and quicker even, gone before you really know it's happened. Some kind of sudden urge takes over, though, because you don't like how quick it was, so you chase him. You plant your lips back on his, firmer than he had, your nose nudging his as you get the angle right. This one's longer and it startles him; you have to pull back when he starts laughing.

"Alright, alright, slow down," he says as you sit back, deflated. "You liked that, huh?"

You nod, giddy, desperate to feel it again.

"Can I show you somethin'?" His hand is on your neck now, burning its fires once more, and you can barely concentrate on him.

"Yeah," you breathe, a sigh of relief as he comes closer again. But as you close your eyes, expecting his mouth on yours, you can't help the whine that escapes when he misses, landing beside it. You feel him chuckle, a puff of air out of his nose, before he dots more kisses along your jaw. It feels nice, gentle and slow, like he's scared to break you if he goes too fast or comes on too strong.

The whine, lingering in your throat, moulds into something like a sigh – or even a moan – when he makes it onto the column of your throat. You swear you feel his teeth graze the skin there, lips following them over your pulse. His kisses turn hotter, heavier, and you can't help the way you keen into him. Without thinking about it, you paw at his shoulders and let your back arch as you breathe thick pants into the air of your living room.

When he pulls back again, you whine his name, gripping tighter where you've pulled his shirt into your fists. He laughs at you, head tipped back, as he smooths his hands up and down your arms; the gentle touch makes you relax and your hands unfurl.

"Good, huh?" His words are viscous, thick with want, but he daren't go too fast.

"Mm-hmm," you agree, nodding, breathing quick. Now that he's stopped, you have time to consider that, actually, you might be a bit overwhelmed; without thinking about it you sit back, returning to your comfortable distance by the arm of the couch, watching as his face falls.

"Sure you're okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, yeah, I just-"

"Yeah, take a second."

"Mm-hmm, just need a minute."

You watch him stiffen, awkward in the wake of the moment, and take the chance to admire him a bit more until you sense his eyes are back on you, and suddenly you feel very small.

"You alright?"

You nod, looking back at him, finding his face all soft and concerned, turned down so it makes you twinge.

"You're being so nice to me," you say. It comes out more as a breath, a string of words tied together with insecurity, all in the same exhale. You're not even sure you said it at all, but his face twists into something like shock.

"What do you mean?"

You sigh. "I dunno, I… You're just being very… kind. Are you always like this?"

He seems taken aback by the question. His hands are in his lap where his left fingers toy with the rings on his right. He looks away from you to stare instead at the beer on the table and the drop of condensation running a race down the neck of the bottle.

"You've really never done this before, huh?" he asks you, and now it's your turn to be taken aback.

"I'm not lying, if that's what you're getting at," you say with perhaps a bit too much venom.

"No," he responds, stern. "I'm just… Finding it hard to believe. I'm sure it's true," he says quickly when you open your mouth to fire something quick at him again, "like, I know you're not lying, but it's so surprising."

"How so?"

He sighs this time. He twists in his seat to face you, bringing one leg up under himself, the other dangling off the edge of your couch. "I'm gonna be honest with you right now, if that's okay."

"Okay."

"'Cause I feel like that's the best way to do this whole… thing, right? Nothin' in it for you, really, if we're not honest, or whatever…"

For the first time since you met him in the park, he's showing his nerves. It gets him all wound up, stumbling through sentences like the words are quicker than he can keep up with. It's endearing, really; nicer in some ways than confidence.

"When I saw that ad it obviously caught my eye, I mean, I called, but I just didn't know what to expect, obviously, and you're… Well, you're… normal? So far, anyway." He huffs the last three words out in a laugh, but you don't return it.

"What does that mean?"

"I just think I expected someone who puts an ad like that in the paper to be weirder, or something."

Your gut twists. Red flares of anger lick up your insides, popping and wheezing in your throat.

"What the fuck, dude?"

You stand, backing away, feeling that familiar creeping isolation; distance, walls up, get away. His face has dropped to something wider, fear in his big stupid brown eyes and mouth agape.

"I didn't-"

"I'm not weird for being a virgin. And just because you think I'm 'normal' doesn't mean this-" you gesture between the two of you with both hands, "-should be surprising."

"No, shit, sorry," he pants, desperation oozing, "fuck."

"I think you should go," you finally say. Your arms are across your middle, hands gripping your forearms. You don't dare look at him, even when he says nothing.

You flinch when you feel him come nearer. He steps over the threadbare rug on your floor and over to the corner where you've parked yourself.

He calls your name and you despise the way you soften at the sound of it.

"I'm gonna touch you, 's'that okay?"

You scoff, turning away from him.

"Stop fucking patronising me, Eddie."

"I'm not patronising you. You wanted me to talk you through it."

"Yeah, that. Not this."

"This is part of that."

"No, it's not."

"Yes, it is."

"Well this isn't getting me very turned on," you spit, turning back to look at him, your arms still crossed over your chest and the rising fire of anger flares when you find that cocky smirk on his face.

"Will you come sit down with me? Please?"

His hands are hovering awkwardly between the two of you, forbidden to come any closer but refusing to give up completely. You offer him an olive branch, dropping your own arms and taking his hand in yours.

He walks you back to the couch and sits beside you, turning your hand over in his on his lap. You both watch it, the way his thumb grazes your palm, tracing the lines up and over.

"Sex isn't just sex, you know," he says frankly. "Even when it's like this."

"I know," you whisper, eyes transfixed.

"It's about all the emotional shit too, and I'm gettin' the feeling there's a lot of that to get through."

"Mm-hmm." It irks you, the way he seems to know you without really knowing you. "You sound very wise."

He laughs at that, and you find yourself grateful for the reprieve, for the way the tension seems to lift just a little.

"I'm just being honest," he admits through a laugh. And then he turns to look at you, dipping his head to meet your gaze because you won't look up. His gaze on you is oppressive, unfamiliar, but you don't dislike it.

"You're really pretty, you know."

You just look at him.

"Hm?" he tries, dipping even lower to catch your eye properly. "It's true."

"A boy's never called me pretty before," you admit, words too quick for you to call them back. This is dire, this hole you're digging; after all this time, being honest is still so difficult, though it seems to come so easily to him.

"That's a crime" he says. And then he does that thing, the one you've read about in books, daydreamed about, thought about late into the night. He brings his hand to your face and holds your chin between his thumb and forefinger, a light pressure but enough to move you to look up at him, sat upright, with your mouth dropped open in shock.

It's just as electric as you'd imagined; more so, even. Two points of contact. Who'd have thought it?

"I'm sorry I said something stupid," he tells you. "It was dumb."

You giggle as his fingers shift across your skin. Soon enough he's holding you in his hand again and you feel yourself leaning into it, again.

"Thank you for apologising," you say. "I think I can forgive it for now."

"Good," he says. And then, more coy, the act dropped for a moment, "Can I kiss you again?"

"Yes, but…"

Just like before, the words stall in your throat.

"You can tell me what you want, you know. It's why I'm here." Christ, his voice is like honey when he's this close to your face.

You pull a long breath in through your nose and close your eyes.

"I have this… fantasy," you begin, and you hear (and feel) him chuckle.

"Go on."

"I guess it's not really a fantasy, just something I've always wanted to try…"

"That's the definition of a fantasy."

"Hey," you scold, opening your eyes and swatting him on the arm softly. "You wanna hear it or not?"

"Sorry, sorry," he says, laughing again. "Continue."

"Can I sit on your lap?"

"Is that it?" he asks, laugh lingering, threatening to fire up the heat in your cheeks.

"Yes," you say pointedly. "I wanna try it."

"Go for it, baby."

He doesn't miss the way you gasp at the nickname; in fact, he smiles, grins almost. He moves his hands down, leaving your face for now so he can hold your waist as you move onto your knees and lift one over him.

It's funny, you think, how hard all of this feels; really, this is a very normal thing for two 23-year-olds to be doing, and yet something within you makes it feel mechanical, intentional. Perhaps you just need practise.

"Okay," he says as you settle, your hips halfway down his thighs. "You gonna get any closer, or am I gonna have to lean over an' break my back?"

"Am I okay to get closer?" you ask, not taking much notice of how your fingers are dancing around his chest, toying lightly with the chain around his neck. Maybe it does come naturally after all.

"'Course you are, here-"

His big hands pull you in by the waist so that you're seated on him, hips to hips. Your faces are closer now, too, so you can admire those lovely crows feet again and the bend of his nose.

"Gonna kiss me, Munson?"

"O-kay," he says, smirking again. "I like the attitude."

"Oh, for fu-"

He shuts you up with a kiss, takes your breath away like they all say in the magazines; this kiss brings the fire up to the hilt, pulls on the smoke and the kindling and sets everything ablaze. His lips move against yours like molten gold, hot and rich and bright, quick but tender all the same. You feel the heat of his stuttering breaths on your cheek and lean inwards, arching your back slightly, until you feel him moan.

It's a sensation you could get used to, for sure. It's fizzy vibrations on your lips, makes them tingle, all electric. And then, before you can really know it's happening, you feel his tongue on yours.

You're not even sure when you opened your mouth for him. But it's there, the new feeling. It feels wetter, less familiar, but it pulls an involuntary moan out of you and you arch your back even more without thinking.

You get into it, into the rhythm, and let your mind wander to the friction between your hips and the pressure of his fingers under your ribs. They're skirting the hem of your top, his ring finger dipping beneath it onto the skin of your waist. And then you think about it too much, take notice of it too acutely, and you're pulling back and panting, looking down at where his hands are.

"All good?" he asks in a voice that's new to you; it's lazy, his words fuzzy, like he's just woken up. You look up at him and his eyes are hooded, lids low, and he's wearing a dopey half-smile.

"Yeah, just… Feeling lots of things," you say; it's all you can think of to explain this.

"That's kinda the point," he reminds you, and then he's doing that thing he showed you earlier, kissing slowly across your jaw and down onto your neck. It feels just as nice the second time; nicer, even, because you're letting him do it and you're letting yourself enjoy it.

His fingers venture upwards, more of them sliding under your top, until he pulls back and says the fateful words you knew would come soon: "Can I take this off?"

His lips are still on your throat, so he doesn't see the way you wince. When you don't reply he comes back up to look at you. You turn away.

"Hey," he coos, one hand leaving its treacherous territory to hold your head again. "What's up?"

You huff. "No one's ever seen me… naked before."

He smiles, which vexes you. "I'm here 'cause I wanna, baby."

The fucking nicknames.

"I know, I just… Can you just-"

You hold his hand in yours and move it away from your skin, hold it in both of yours to keep it away from you. He breathes an apology but you continue.

"This whole thing, me never doing this before or whatever, I think it's probably got a lot to do with me not really liking this-" you look down at yourself as you speak, "-very much."

You see him take this in, how it melts his features and widens his eyes.

"Okay," he finally says. "We can take this slow, yeah? You wearing a bra?"

"Yes, Eddie, I'm wearing a bra."

"So let's start there. Top off first, and you can see how you feel."

"Okay."

You let go of his hand and he takes your shirt in both. You close your eyes as you feel him lift the fabric, bunch it around your breasts, your que to lift your arms. You do it for him and he pulls up, tugs it messily over your head and throws it somewhere across the room.

"Shit," he hisses.

"What?" you say in a panic, worried something somewhere has gone horribly wrong.

"Look at you," he croons. "So pretty."

The insecurity evaporates, coming off you like a heavy mist, as he dips his head to kiss your collar bones and across the swell of flesh beneath. He takes his time, sometimes pulling the skin between his teeth but never for long enough to leave a mark. At some point he nudges you back and reaches over his head to pull his own shirt off; before he commits, he looks at you. You nod.

This is the most flesh-on-flesh you've ever felt before. It's nice; you're both warm, and he hasn't once mentioned the eighteen thousand different flaws you know are on your upper body.

His is covered in ink – pretty, often in swirling patterns and on his arm there are bats. But between them, there's confirmation of your earlier suspicions: he's got scars everywhere.

You trace them with gentle fingers.

"Don't ask," he says, laughing awkwardly.

"Okay."

You lean back in to kiss him. You’re a lot less confident than he is at initiating, but soon enough you get the hang of it, and he lets you. He doesn't take the reins; instead, he gives himself to you, lets you find your feet by yourself.

You attempt to copy him, kissing his jaw and then his neck, and you enjoy the way he sighs and relaxes under your lips.

As you move further down, teeth grazing his collarbone, he says, "you wanna move? Couch isn't exactly ideal."

You finish your work with a peck to the bump of his shoulder and say, "Sure."

There's some awkward shuffling, and standing in your bra and jeans is somehow more vulnerable than sitting on him, but nevertheless you take his hand and lead him through the door to your bedroom.

He doesn't have as much time to take this room in as the last one, because he wants you on the bed more than he cares to admit. When you flick on the bedside lamp, finally acknowledging how dark it's become now the sun's started going down, all he really notices is how warm the room is.

"Here," he says, manoeuvring you as he pleases. "Lay back, yeah?"

You do as he says, sitting facing him and pushing yourself back so you can lay down with your knees up.

And then it happens: one of the many cataclysmic revelations of the evening.

"Good girl."

Again, you gasp, looking up at the ceiling.

"Good?" he asks.

"Really good," you tell him. You haven't really noticed that your hands have laid themselves across your chest, but he can't stop staring.

"That's it, see? Love when you tell me what you like."

One of his hands joins one of yours where it's fidgeting with your bra, and the other smooths down one of your legs, urging you to straighten them. You do, and again he says those fateful words: "Good girl. Gonna take these off, yeah?"

"Wait," you snap, sitting up and letting his hand fall so you can lean back with your weight on yours. "Can we do it together?"

"'Course."

"And can I… Can I undo yours?"

"Shit, sure you can."

You sit up and he takes your hands in his bigger ones, moulding them so you're tracing your fingers down the plain of his chest and stomach. You follow the dips and creases, the taught skin of his scars, and finally reach his belt.

He's mumbling nonsense at you, too caught up in everything to keep up the teacher façade, pinching your fingers between his so you can pull the leather through the buckle and get to his zipper.

When you unzip and brush something hard, he drops his hands and tips his head back in a sigh. It's an unfamiliar feeling under your tentative hands but it's not unknown.

"Wow," you breathe, not really meaning to say it out loud.

"Shit, gotta get these off-" He pulls back from your wanting grasp to shuffle out of his jeans, leaving his boxers in place for now. One step at a time.

"Your turn," he declares, smiling, jeans and socks gone. He reaches over to you again to return the favour, undoing buttons and the zip and his wide hand on your hip urges you to lift off the bed so he can pull the denim down your legs.

There's no turning back now; you can never again wonder what will happen the first time someone sees you (nearly) naked.

You've thought about this before, turned an infinity of possibilities over in your mind, but this was never one of them. Not one of them included a pretty boy, standing before you, just as exposed as you are, pawing at flesh and telling you you're beautiful.

His lips ghost over you, beginning at your shoulder and creeping lower. When he reaches the middle of your chest he looks up at you, the angle a little awkward. You nod.

"What're you doing?" you ask him, moving backwards again as he crowds you.

"I'm gonna take this off," he says, tugging lightly at the band of your bra, bringing himself level with you so he's breathing the words into your ear. "And then I'm gonna eat you out."

He may as well be a fire-breathing dragon. His words claw at your scalp like flames and fill your lungs with heat, pulling a sigh from within. You lean back, lying flat on the sheets, and let him have his way with you.

But he doesn't move, first admiring the way you respond and then waiting, lingering above you, too far away.

"What?" you hiccup, looking at him, confused.

"Need you to tell me this is what you want," he tells you.

"This is what I want," you repeat back to him. And then, taking the plunge, you add, "I want you to eat me out, Eddie."

You relish in his response, the way you can almost see him shiver, bare shoulders twitching and chest deflating with a shuddery exhale.

"Christ, yes, okay."

His fingers inch around your back so you arch it, letting him toy with the clasp of your bra. He gets it undone quicker than you expected, and you can't bring yourself to focus on where it goes once it's off because he's got his mouth back on your skin and now he's biting marks in places that would make your past self blush.

You feel his teeth on the swell of your boobs, first the left and then the right, and the rough pads of his fingers over your nipples.

"Shit," you hiss, and then, "no, shit, don't stop," when he halts for a second.

"Feel good?" he asks, muffled with his teeth grazing the stretch of skin across your ribs.

"Yes, yeah."

Gripping the sheets, you arch again, keening into him, chasing the buzz of his lips and the goosebumps they leave.

His fingers leave them, too, especially when they dance over your sides, that bit that makes you feel hollow if you drift over it the right way.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, lifting his head to look up at you from where he's sunk to his knees. You're staring at the ceiling, too preoccupied to meet his eye, and the sight makes him huff a laugh.

"Yes," you respond too quickly.

As you feel his fingers curl around the elastic, he says, "Okay, you're gonna have to give me a hand, alright? Tell me if it feels okay or if you want me to move. Or if you want me to stop, obviously."

"Yes, yeah, fuck, please Eddie-"

"Alright, alright," he laughs, pulling the material down over your knees and feet. At this rate, your bedroom floor must look like an explosion at the laundromat; dirty laundry everywhere, clothes all over the floor.

You're not sure why you're thinking about the logistics of tidying right now, though it doesn't last long, because the cool air on your core is a shock that jolts every limb.

Although he's wedged between them, you seem to have an instinctual reaction to the sensation of being exposed, your legs trying to close around him. His firm hands pull them apart, his fingers grasping the fat of your thighs, and then his lips.

They're on the softness between your legs first of all, nipping and pulling the skin between his teeth as he moves upwards. And then you feel them, the strange, wet contact. There's a feeling, something you think must be his tongue, licking upwards, before it makes contact with your clit.

The pressure is a thunderbolt to the centre, a shock that sends you arching off the bed with a gasp. Your grasp on the sheets tightens for a moment until you feel the roughness of his hair instead; without thinking, you've moved both hands to claw and pet at the crown of his head, earning a muffled moan when you tug ever so lightly.

He calls your name, pulling back, his words heard through cotton wool ears. "You're sure you haven't done this before?"

"Fuck, yes, Eddie I'm sure," you pant in response, desperate for the sensation of his mouth on you again. He obliges your unspoken craving, licking upwards again before settling comfortably at your clit. His firm hands dig deeper into the flesh of your thighs until one of them doesn’t, and before you can think too hard about it, you feel it just beneath his mouth.

The new feeling of his rough fingers on your cunt sends your eyes rolling back; you can't help but squirm and it's driving him wild, the way you're listening to him, the way you can't help but move, the way you're tugging at him without realising.

The gnawing tightness in your core nosedives when he slips, warm breaths replacing his mouth and fingers. You whine like a petulant child, making a noise you didn't know you could.

"I'm gonna use my fingers," he tells you, the distance between him and your cunt not enough to save you from the maddening huffs of breath as he talks. "Have you ever had anything inside before?"

It's funny, how nervous he sounds despite the fact he's knelt the way he is between your knees. His mouth was just all over you, and yet he's still a boy, turned stuttering by sex talk.

"No," you pant, "no, never."

"Okay, it might hurt, alright? You just gotta tell me to stop and I will."

"Okay," you agree.

He settles back into position, his weight rested on his elbows and his face and hand inching closer. You feel it, the stiffness of a finger, but the feeling is unusual and a little uncomfortable.

"You gotta relax," he tells you. "You overthinkin' it?"

"No," you bite defensively.

"It's okay."

You huff and lie back, dropping your shoulders.

"Do you ever…"

Another sigh.

"Do you ever touch yourself?"

There's a momentary flush of embarrassment, a conditioned response to being asked about this kind of thing, but you're here, in this position, naked, so you may as well be honest.

"Yes."

"Okay, what do you think about? When you do?"

"I, uh…"

"It's okay," he says quickly, "don't tell me. Just- just think about it now, right? Somethin' that turns you on."

Something that turns you on? What's turning you on right now is the handsome guy between your legs. His pretty inked skin, the stretch across his shoulders and the ripples in his back. His wide, firm hands, those obnoxious rings, the way he keeps telling you you're a good girl.

It swims in your mind, the vision of him cooing sweet praises, the fizzling memory of those words in his voice.

"That's it, you got it," you hear him tut, as though he can see inside your mind, read your thoughts. It pulls apart the tension in your core and across your shoulders, and then it's back, that feeling, the warmth and the fire, and you sink deeper into the pool of euphoria.

With one finger already half-way inside, he adds a second, his eyes trained on your face in case it's too much. But it's not; of course it's not. He knows he's good, but he doesn't think he's made a girl this happy in his whole life.

You feel it soon enough: there's a fizzing current that licks up from your cunt and into your gut where it lights your nervous system on fire. It runs laps around your body, pinpricks in your fingertips and behind your ears. You grasp at the sheets again, pulling, pulling, pulling, reaching for whatever you can to keep your body from floating away, because it really feels like that's about to happen; either that or you're going to implode, pulling the room and everything else with you like a black hole, hungry for more.

You barely notice the pants, your whiny moans and the repeated prayers of Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, before you're coming apart. He's still going, riding you through it, basking in the sound of his name as it crawls from your mouth. So far he's kept his composure, ignored the searing pain under his boxers, but he doesn't think he'll hold out much longer.

"That's it," he coos, slowing down, rubbing soothing circles into your hip. You're panting, your breath hot and skin even hotter, and you can barely hear him when he speaks. The words carry, though, somehow; his praises of you did so good, and you're driving me wild, and, worst of all with the way it slaps you silly when it comes, I need to be inside you.

You sit up at that, holding yourself up on wobbling elbows to look at him. He's still knelt between your knees, hands resting on them, looking back at you with eyes turned dark and glistening skin. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and it takes you a minute to understand that he's waiting for your answer.

"Right," you breathe. "Yeah, okay." You scramble to sit up and twist yourself so you're lying the right way but he laughs and it makes you go cold.

"Chill out, take a minute, yeah?"

His hand hasn't left you; it's on your ankle now, rubbing those same circles over the bone.

All you can say is, "That was insane."

He laughs again, a softer noise this time, and says, "It was, huh?"

"Yeah." You flop back, head in the pillows and eyes on the ceiling above you, your own fingers tracing up and down your stomach.

He watches you from the floor. You're all flushed, glowing something rosy and sprinkled with dewy sweat. And then he watches your fingers, their absentminded journey up from your belly to the dip between your boobs, and back down. You repeat it over and over, and though it's an innocent, repetitive stroke, it's not helping the pressure between his legs.

"I'm gonna take these off," he tells you, giving your ankle a comforting squeeze and tugging his waistband with his free hand. "That okay?"

It dawns on you, as you look at him, that not only are you lying naked in front of a stranger, but that you are about to see that stranger's dick. A stranger who responded to your stupid ad in the paper, who's agreed to this for some stupid reason, and who is stupid handsome and stupid nice.

"Uh, yeah, okay."

He says your name again and it sounds so pretty when he does, and then he says, "We can stop if you want, you know. You don't have to do anythin' you don't want to."

"No, I want to," you say. "I just… This is a lot."

"Yeah," he says with a smile, that one that drips with charm and tugs at your gut. "But you're all good. Done so well so far."

Your body keens at the praise, your back lifting off the bed and it's then that you notice the feeling of want biting ugly marks into the pit of your stomach. You look at him, and he looks back at you, and all you can feel is a gnawing emptiness, a need to be full.

"Let's do this," you declare, sitting back up on your elbows and watching him with needy eyes. He sees it, the darkness that has settled in your irises, the itchy fidgeting of your hands on your sheets.

"Yes, ma'am."

Slowly, he stands and tugs his underwear down his legs and onto the floor. It all feels very real, now that he's stood before you like this.

He laughs at your wide eyes, trained on the straining erection he just let loose. You've never seen a dick in person before, and to be truthful you're not sure you've ever really seen one in a photograph or a video – the adult section at the rental store isn't exactly somewhere you often find yourself – so you have nothing to compare this to, but objectively it looks quite big.

"Will it fit?" you say before you can stop yourself. It comes out a squeak and makes him laugh yet again.

"Yes," he tells you, "it'll fit. But thanks for the ego boost."

He's on his knees on the bed beside you now, moving towards you until he can use his hands to move your legs apart. He settles himself between them and sits back on his heels, leaving one hand on your left leg and using the other to take one of yours. He intertwines your fingers, squeezes, and pulls you to sit up.

"Here," he says, bringing your hand to sit flat on his ribs. He's controlling his voice as best he can, hoping it doesn't sound as desperate as he feels right now. He can't help but stare at you, at how you're looking at him.

"I'm gonna show you how to touch me, okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. His hand moves yours down until it reaches patchy hair and then he curls your hand around his dick, his own hand still holding yours.

It's a new feeling, sure, but you're mostly enjoying the short hisses of breath he's letting out. When you move upwards without his help he almost moans, and you decide you'd like to do whatever it takes to make him do it again, and louder.

"Shit, okay, wait. Here-" He brings your hand away and lays it flat, palm up. "Spit."

You look up at him and find his wide brown eyes looking down at you, waiting.

So you spit into your palm, and he brings it back to himself, and moving is easier now.

"Fuck, okay… Yeah, just like that, that's it, shit-"

He drops his hand from yours and leaves you to find your own way, so you copy his pattern of up and down, slowly, twisting your hand as you go.

"Here, move your thumb over the- Fuck-"

You do as he says, perhaps too eager to please, and watch in awe as the muscles in his abdomen tense and he leans forward, resting his weight on one hand planted right beside your hip.

"Okay, okay, that's enough," he says, taking your wrist and pulling you away, ignoring the way you whine.

When he says, "We can worry about me another time," you try to ignore the brief fluttering it elicits deep within your chest somewhere. Dwelling on things said in the heat of this moment isn't fair, you decide; he surely doesn't mean it.

With warm, now familiar hands, he helps you lay back down.

"You got condoms?"

"Oh." You don't, and the truth you're about to tell him is mortifying. "No. They all expired a few months ago."

"That's fine," is all he says, and the fluttery feeling returns when he doesn't ask any follow up questions. No judgement, as promised. "Just wait here."

His hand leaves you at the last possible moment. As he moves off the bed it runs smooth down your leg and over your foot, like he's scared that if he lets go you'll disappear. You watch him hop awkwardly across the room and into your living room, the sight a refreshing injection of humour, helping you relax into the mattress again. He comes back with his jacket in one hand, which he drops on the floor after rummaging in the inside pocket and pulling out a red foil square.

He pulls it open with fingers that you realise are shaking slightly, and you wonder if he's really nervous, and if so, if he's as nervous as you are.

It takes a few seconds but soon enough he's rolled it on, breath stuttering and dry, and then he climbs back to you and his hands return to your body almost as quickly as they left.

He's hovering over you now, his long hair tickling the sides of your face and the tops of your shoulders, all the places the sun hits on hot days. You're too caught up in watching his every move, too keen to really realise what you're saying before you ask: "Will you kiss me again?"

He smiles and dips down wordlessly, letting his lips slip against yours. It brings back the fluttering and the fizzy feeling, the craving for him. As your tongues move as one, you feel his hand by your thigh, and when he pulls back he says, "You ready?"

You nod, and then, remembering what he said earlier, cement it in words: "I'm ready."

"Alright, I'm gonna go slow, okay? It's gonna stretch more than earlier, but you just keep me clued in, yeah?"

"Yeah."

There's a new sensation at your core, of wetness and something rigid. He's moving against your folds, finding no purchase in the remnants of earlier on, but then he nudges your clit and you jolt upwards and that's when he finds what he was searching for.

He nudges in quickly at first, enough to make you whine a pained sound. He matches it with a low grumble, a vibration right by your ear.

"You okay?" he's quick to ask, head rising to look at you.

"Yeah, yeah, just- slow, please."

"I've got you."

He doesn't move for a beat, eyes trained on the scrunch of your nose. He kisses it and feels you relax, so he keeps kissing, quick flashes over your forehead, your temple, your cheek. Each one brings new relief and as your back hits the bed again, he eases himself in a little more.

The stretch is definitely different; more. There's a burn, but it doesn't completely hide the wave of pleasure you get in the fullness.

"Gonna go a bit more," he tells you, and he does just that, going half an inch further, still watching for any sign of discomfort.

When you bring your knees up by his hips, he knows you're past the worst of it. He chants praise, telling you that you're doing so well, taking me so well as he keeps going, all the way until he's seated inside you, up to the hilt. You breathe in a gasp, filling your lungs, realising you'd been holding your breath for too long. And as you open your eyes, you find him staring down at you with concern and something else.

"You good?" he whispers with his face so close you feel the words as they settle on your cheek.

"Yeah."

"Good girl."

He punctuates this with a kiss, and then another, over the hill of your jaw and onto your throat. Your hands claw up his back, pulling him in until you're sure that if he were any closer, you'd fuse into one.

"Okay," he finally says, lips against the peak of your shoulder. "I'm gonna move. I'll go slow at first."

"Okay."

The feeling of him pulling out is new and nice, but it's nothing compared to the opposite. The combination of the two, the repetitive motion he picks up, is something you want to chase forever.

As he moves, he quickens, trying his best to keep his eyes open and attentive; it's difficult, though, when you feel this good.

"Christ, you're so fuckin' tight, shit-"

"Eddie, this feels amazing, uh-"

Your stomach twists into a coil again, quicker this time, and tightens as he picks up the pace. Above you he's all guttural moans and pretty groans, his lips grazing your cheek each time he moves, and soon his thrusts become too much. You're panting his name and he's panting yours, and along with the sound of skin on skin, that's all you can hear until he speaks gravel-churned words into your ear.

"Shit, 'm so close, fuck- Gotta get you there, baby, huh? C'mon, need you to come for me."

His words are joined by sloppy fingers between your bodies. They fumble in the dark, prodding your belly before finding slippery purchase on your clit. Sparks light up your body and all you can do in response is let it arch into him with a yelp of his name.

"You close?" he asks.

"Yes, yeah, shit, yes," you splutter back. It's like a chase, and you're catching up, quickly, quickly, quickly.

All of a sudden there's a white-hot flash that burns every inch of your insides. You tense, your body yawning open for him, wide and wanting; he doesn't relent, thrusts harder than ever, chases you in return as he feels you tighten around him. You release, the coil snapping, and he brings the pace down to see you through to the end.

There's cotton wool in your ears again but you make out his praises: "That's it, that's it, atta girl… C'mon, I've got you, you did so well."

When your breathing turns regular and your eyes ease open, you feel a warm knuckle on your cheek. He's still going slow, rutting in and out of you with ease now, and when you finally look at him he asks, "Gonna keep goin', that okay?"

You nod, throat closed for the time being so you make it as certain a nod as you can muster. His thrusts become quicker again, and the more he speeds up the sloppier he becomes. You feel sensitive, too warm but also too desperate to see, hear, feel him come undone inside you. It's not long until your wish is granted; soon his groans turn to whimpers and whines, and he calls your name as he shudders to a violent halt. It's intoxicating, experiencing this from underneath him; if this is what everyone's been talking about all these years, you understand why.

The room sways and whistles as he rests his weight on you. His breath, right beside your ear, is like a hot, damp rag, pulling at your sticky skin and the thrum of rushing blood. You hear him groan and then the uncomfortable feeling of him pulling out. The bed bounces gently as he huffs and flops down beside you, and, god, you wish so badly that you could keep those flutters under control because his clammy hand finds yours between your bodies and it's nice to feel the affection he's so devoted to giving you.

Sighing, he says, "Shit."

You laugh, scrunching your face.

"Yeah," you agree, "shit."

He squeezes your hand.

"Did you like it?"

"Yeah. Really liked it."

"Okay for your first time?"

"Yeah." You turn onto your side to face him, looking up at his face. There are a few curls stuck to his pretty pink face, and you admire the bob of his throat as he swallows and the squeeze of his hand in yours.

"You're really pretty," you tell him. You're not sure if this is the post-O haze the magazines talk about, or if it's some kind of clarity, or if it's just that you have this boy in the palm of your hand and you suddenly can't bear the thought of letting him go. Instead you want to plant anchors, heavy lines that will keep him right where he is.

He turns his head to look at you and you see him flush even more.

"So are you," he whispers, with another squeeze and a kiss to your forehead.

There are a few minutes of quiet after that. The light outside is gone for good, so he's glowing a low golden in the light of your bedside lamp. He kisses you again with a fondness that surely shouldn't come with this exchange, which you had rationalised as just that: a transaction, a mutual agreement to get something done.

You see him open his mouth, as if to speak, but close it again, so you reach a tentative hand up and brush some hair from his eyes and trace your knuckle down his temple, urging him.

"My friends," he begins, hesitant, "they're having a party, next weekend. Steve, he only lives round the corner, we passed his house on the way here... You wouldn't wanna come, would you?"

"With you?" you whisper into the fizzy darkness.

"Yeah." He smiles, eyes fluttering shut under your sweeping fingers. "With me."

"Is it a date?"

"It can be, if you want. Or we can just, y'know, go as friends, or whatever."

"No one's ever asked me on a date before."

He smiles, and it's soft and curled with an affectionate pity; one that says I'm sorry, that's not fair, it's nothing to do with you.

"Well, wanna come?"

"I'd love to."

He pulls your hand up and brings it to his mouth, where he kisses your knuckles. Goosebumps raise across your thighs and arms, and you realise you're cold.

He seems to sense your discomfort because you feel him shift beside you. He pulls you up with him and helps you climb off the bed on wobbly legs.

"I should pee," you tell him, heeding the warnings of girlfriends past.

"You should," he says, a little deflated.

You don't move, though. To move would be to acknowledge the end – the end of the transaction, of the favour. It's not something you want.

"I, uh," you begin, stumbling, "Don't- Do you want-"

"I can go now, if you want-"

"No, no, it's okay, I mean, you can go if you want, that's fine, I just-"

Your eyes are darting all over the carpet, skimming discarded clothes, so you don't notice him reach up until he's touching your face, holding it in his palm.

"I'll stay, if you want me to."

"Yes, please."

He smiles at you, sticky with fondness and you can't help but smile back.

"I'm gonna shower," you tell him, leaning further into his grasp.

"I'll be here."

"Munson! You made it!"

In the middle of the busy room, there's a tall guy, broad and burly, like all the jocks you went to high school with. He's startlingly pretty, with golden hair and honeyed skin, a wide, bright smile plastered across his face.

He steps on unsure feet over to Eddie, who is stood partially in front of you; you're cowering behind him, willing the courage to lift you and push you into the arms of strangers. For now, holding his hand will do just fine.

"Hey, Harrington," Eddie greets, meeting him in one of those boyish embraces. You look around, taking in the faces; it's not the level of the high-school parties you used to go to, and definitely not the circus of the frat ones you've sometimes found yourself at, but it's busy enough. Where the guy – Harrington – came from, in the living room, there's a circle of people who are all smiling in your direction.

"Who's this?" The guy is looking at you over Eddie's shoulder.

Eddie tells Steve your name, and then turns to you. "This is Steve."

"Hi," you say to him, smiling, trying your best to hide the cruel nerves.

"Nice t'meet you!" he beams back. It's infectious; your smile turns firm and genuine in return. "Here, come meet the gang."

"C'mon," Eddie whispers to you with a kiss to the crown of your head. He pulls you through the entryway, into the large living room, following Steve. He drops your hand to give and return hugs, saying hello to each person. You stand and watch, unsure of what to do, until one of the girls – the first one Eddie greeted – appears by your side.

"Hey," she says, perhaps a little too close.

"Hi."

"I'm Robin." She sticks her hand out and you shake it clumsily.

Eddie's back, with his hand in yours again, on your other side. He calls her Rob and tells her your name, and then does the same for each person – Nancy, Jonathan, Will, Mike, Max, Lucas, Dustin, El – too many for you to remember tonight, but you have a feeling you'll see them again.

"Hi, guys," you return with a wave.

Everything settles after that. You take a seat next to Eddie on the couch, legs up and over his own, making conversation with Robin who you like a lot. Nancy comes over and introduces herself again and you find you like her, too.

And then Steve appears, having disappeared twenty minutes before. He's a little drunker, and he hands you and Eddie a can each. You take it gratefully and open it, taking a swig.

"So," he begins, sitting on the opposite side of the circle to yourself and Eddie. "You from Hawkins?"

"No," you tell him, and repeat the story you told Eddie.

"Sweet! So how'd you meet?"

You turn your head to look at Eddie and find him having done the same thing. His eyes are wide, just as wide as you're sure yours are.

"Uh," you begin, drawing out the sound to buy yourself time.

"I did her a favour," he says, to your surprise, turning back to look at Steve with a sickly smile. "Just somethin' she'd put in the paper."

"That's so cute," Nancy says from behind you, her words chased by Robin adding a sarcastic, "Adorable."

The conversation moves on after that, and you turn around to Eddie again. He's looking back at you, his face pink and a smile tugging at his mouth. Before you can stop yourselves you're laughing, bursting into happy noises, bent double giggling.

He gives you another kiss, on the cheek this time, and quickly you settle back into conversations. The night is long and for the first time in a long time, it isn't lonely.

Hello! This is SO long - it really did take on a life of its own. I considered splitting it but couldn't find somewhere to do it, so I hope you enjoy this absolute beast nonetheless. I love you!

#ha ha I am sorry!#god it's long #I hope you love it <3 #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #Eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson angst #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #eddie fic #eddie x fem!reader #eddie #eddie stranger things

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wh0reforcoriolanussnow · 6 months

Text

Brunch Date || Tom Blyth x actress!reader

Summary: Paparazzi capture a cute little brunch date that you and Tom take your daughter Elsie, on.

Warnings: absolutely none cause this is just pure fluff 🥰

Wc: 762

Dad!Tom Blyth x reader au masterlist

divider by @pommecita

Hand-in-hand, you, Tom and Elsie walk through the streets of Brooklyn. You were on the look out for a place to eat brunch since this morning it took awhile for Elsie to wake up and get ready. You didn’t bother bringing a pram since there were lots of nearby cafes to your home.

It had been a whole month since you and Tom revealed that you were parents and a whole month since the promo tour of tbosas finished. Not many pictures of Elsie were out still, not that you purposely intended that. It just coincidentally happened.

But it felt great being out in the open comfortably with your family. Elsie had her arms up, both hands gripping Tom’s and your hands as you both lightly swing her. Childish giggles escape her mouth as you and Tom smile.

“Ooh, what about that place?” Tom points over to a little cafe on the corner of the street. It wasn’t very busy inside and you had already since great comments about it while you were looking at the cafes around this morning on your phone.

You sat in a three seater table that overlooked the street of Brooklyn, Elsie in the middle. “Would you like water?” Tom asks as he gets the jug of water. “Yes please,” You smile, tucking a loose strand of Elsie’s hair behind her ear as she nods. Her hair up in two pigtails, just how she liked them.

Tom fills her glass before carefully holding it for Elsie as she drinks it. You look through the menu, your eyes scanning the contents of it as you discuss with Tom the options. Wanting more attention on her, Elsie crawls onto her dad’s lap as Tom lets her, her little arms wrapping around his neck, their cheeks side by side as you laugh.

You quickly snap a photo of the two. “Do you want pancakes baby?” You ask, looking at Elsie, “Yes please,” She voices out as Tom cracks a smile. “Good manners darling,” He praises her, kissing her cheek before he passes Elsie to you, getting up to order.

Tom comes back a few minutes later. You decide to sit in Elsie’s spot beside Tom as she sits on your lap, her eyes on the road before her and the people walking pass. “Do you want to go to somewhere after this?” Tom asks you as he takes a sip of his coffee.

You spoon feed the froth of the babycino into Elsie’s mouth as you hum. “Actually yes, I saw this really cute pinafore for Elsie when I was walking by the shops a couple days ago,” At the mention of her name, Elsie turns her head to look at her parents.

You and Tom giggle as he lightly pinches her chubby cheek as Elsie smiles. “You’re so cute darling,” You kiss her forehead just as the food arrives. You thank the waitress and you move to sit back at your seat, Elsie back on hers.

Tom takes Elsie’s plate as she waits patiently, he was cutting it up into small bits so that she could eat it without hassle. “There you go sweetheart,” Tom smiles at her daughter as she digs in.

The three of you ate your dinner with Elsie taking a little bit longer. You watched your daughter as she chews her food slowly, her curious blue eyes wandering around the place. You had spotted a few paparazzi’s taking photographs a few times but you didn’t mind since they were on the other side of the street, far away.

A few people would stare as they walked by but they were all super respectful and didn't come up to ask for photos while you were eating. After Elsie finished, the three of you left the cafe and made your way to downtown brooklyn. Elsie was in Tom's arms most of the walk there since she felt clingy.

You stopped at the shop you mentioned to Tom and did a little shopping for Elsie. Hand in hand, you and your daughter walked around the shop, picking out things that she liked.

Tom was trailing behind, his eyes looking around the cute little shop that had the cutest pieces of clothing and thought how adorable they would look on her daughter.

All the clothes that you and Elsie picked out ended up in Tom's arms as he happily held them all. You helped Elsie try on all the clothes and did a little fashion show for Tom. It was honestly so adorable and Tom found it absolutely entertaining.

#dad!tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth imagine #fanfiction #tom blyth fluff #dad!tom blyth drabbles #social media #social media au #tom blyth x actress!reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow fanfiction #tom blyth x you #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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badbtssmut · 6 months

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You go to an illegal underground sex party downtown and meet seven guys who fuck you too good.

Contains: Riding, missionary, crying tears of pleasure, pussy DP, overstimulation, mid air fucking, wall fucking, blowjobs, mention of other people having sex, rough sex, slow sex, y/n loves sex, anal with mention of it hurting before it feels good, one sentence of it ‘hurting good’, squirting, disassociating cause it feels so good, squirting, multiple members cumming in y/n, vibrator being used on y/n

Admin note: this is so fucking long, enjoy ;)

—

Jin

“Am I your first tonight?” The man, whose name tag said ‘Jin’ asked.

“Yeah.” You nodded. “First time being in this kinda place too.” You internally scolded yourself— why did you have to tell him that?

“You are beautiful.” He commented.

You laughed softly.

He smiled.

The two of you were alone in a small room. There were some sex toys and bondage equipment on the wall, and a massage table in the middle of the room. It was dimly lit and had a soft and sensual feeling to it. You were sitting on the older man’s lap on the red couch, his hands already exploring your body. You could feel his hardness beneath you.

“I’d love to see you ride me. Do you think you can do that for me, sweetheart?” Jin asked as he started to kiss your neck.

“Yes.” You breathed out.

Moments later, the both of you were undressed. “Mm, so big!” You shuddered as you pushed down on his length, his fingers squeezed into your sides as he guided you down.

Once he was all the way in, you placed your hands on his chest for balance as you started to ride him. He let out a groan, his hands roaming up and down your body, before finally cupping your breasts. He sat up and wrapped an arm around you, kissing your chest and sucking on your nipples. You held onto his head and kept riding him.

The older man started to thrust into you, and you cried out. His pace quickened, and his other hand found its way to your clit. He rubbed your sensitive bud, and you started to lose yourself to the pleasure.

You whimpered and moaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours echoing through the room. In the distance, blaring music was heard, and it sounded like the couple next to this room were having a go at it as well.

“I’m so lucky to be the first to pound into this pretty pussy… you feel so good around me, baby.” He grunted, slowing down his pace to savor the moment.

You couldn't form any coherent thoughts, your body was buzzing, and your skin was tingling. Your nails dug into his back, and you were sure you left marks on him.

“Come here…” He nudged you off his lap. “Go lay down for me, mm, just like that.”

You laid on your back, legs spread apart. He moved himself between them, he held onto his shaft as he entered you again, slowly and teasingly. He watched as you writhed underneath him, his hand snaking down to your clit once more.

You arched your back, the sensation was almost too much to bear. His cock filling you up and his fingers circling your sensitive nub. The man had a devilish grin on his face, enjoying the view of your body wriggling under him. He started to thrust faster, his hips pounding against yours, his length going deeper and deeper.

Jin leaned down and pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly sucked on it. His other hand was on the side of your face, keeping you in place.

It was almost suffocating, the weight of his body on yours, his tongue dominating your mouth, his shaft buried deep within you, and his fingers stimulating you.

Your moans were muffled as the man above you kissed you, his hips not slowing down.

Jin let out a muffled grunt as he spilled into you, and you felt excitement rush through your body at the idea of him filling you up.

“Your cock feels so good! Mmm, please don’t stop. You feel so good inside me, fuck!” You winced, biting down on your bottom lip as you neared your release.

The man above you gave you one more hard thrust and rubbed your clit roughly, pushing you over the edge. You came, your body quivering as he continued to move inside of you, helping you ride out your high.

He slowed his pace, his length slipping out of you. He groaned as he rubbed himself, before he came all over your belly.

Yoongi and Hoseok

“Ah! Ah!” You winced, squeezing your eyes shut. Yoongi’s pace was slow, and the way he slowly filled your pussy drove you insane. Being filled up inch by inch was an amazing feeling. Your pussy stretched, but it felt so good. When you felt something poke against your cheek, you opened your eyes and saw a hard cock in your face.

You parted your lips and took in Hoseok’s cock. You moaned, sending vibrations through his cock. He groaned and tangled his hand in your hair, holding your head as he pumped in and out of your mouth. You sucked on him, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lick and tease him.

Yoongi continued his slow thrusts. You clenched around him, wanting him to go faster. Instead, he just chuckled, enjoying your whine when he pulled almost all the way out and went back in. He teased you, slowly filling you back up. Your whine was cut off by Hoseok pulling out of your mouth. He rubbed the tip along your lips and you kissed it, letting your tongue slide against the head, before he pushed it into your mouth again. Hoseok’s hand roamed to your breasts and he started kneading it and pinching the nipple. You gasped and arched your back, pushing your breast further into his hand.

Yoongi continued his pace for a little longer. You could feel yourself getting closer, your walls tightened and your moans grew louder. His pace was torturous, it wasn’t enough. Just when you thought you couldn’t take anymore, his hips snapped into yours, burying himself completely inside of you. Your legs trembled and you could feel your orgasm coming.

Yoongi leaned down and nipped at your ear, before whispering, "I can feel how close you are. So fucking tight. So fucking perfect. You're being such a good girl."

“Gonna cum…” You cried out, letting go and releasing. Your legs shook as pleasure coursed through your body. It was a long orgasm, the feeling lasting.

Yoongi grunted, his hands holding you tightly. He fucked into you faster and faster until his hips stilled, a warmth spread throughout you.

You both were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath. You felt Yoongi pull out of you, and Hoseok took his place.

You giggled when Hoseok pulled you closer and picked you up, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders before you leaned in to kiss him. You gasped into the kiss as you felt him slide into you.

Hoseok moaned. You were already wet from cumming, so he was able to slide in easily. His pace was quick, desperate. His hips were slamming into yours, the sound of skin slapping filling the room. A few couples were near you, fucking each other. You didn't know them, but that just added to the experience. You loved how public sex was accepted in the club.

Yoongi's cum dripped out of you, down your legs. Your wet pussy and Hoseok’s saliva covered cock made such hot sounds. The squelching noise was loud, and you blushed, loving how lewd it was.

“Mm, fucking another man while filled with cum already, you are so dirty," Hoseok smirked, heading to the wall and pressing your back against it as he started to wall fuck you. Your back rubbed against the cool wall, and you closed your eyes, taking in all the sensations. Hoseok was a rough lover, and his thrusts were so hard and fast that your head kept banging into the wall.

“Fuck, fuck…” You whimpered, feeling how sensitive your pussy was. You had just came, but it was so good. Hoseok was making you feel amazing.

“Fuck, you take this cock like a champ.” Hoseok was pounding into you, the sound of your bodies hitting against the wall was loud. It turned you on. You knew others would hear and look over. You felt Hoseok reach one hand between your bodies, and you looked down, watching him rub your clit.

You clenched around him and felt another orgasm build up inside of you. You threw your head back and squeezed your eyes shut. Hoseok's thrusts were rough, the way his fingers moved on your clit was rough, it all felt too good. You felt so sensitive.

You cried out, your second orgasm washing over you. Your legs trembled, and if Hoseok wasn’t holding you up, you would have collapsed.

“Oh, oh!” You whimpered when you felt Hoseok continuing to fuck into you. The pleasure was becoming too much. He was going too hard. You needed a moment to recover, but it felt so good. It hurt, it was too much, but it felt so good.

“Going. To. Fill. You.” Every word that rolled off his tongue was followed by a hard thrust into you.

"Ple-ease, oh, oh!" Your eyes widened and your toes curled as he released inside of you. His cum mixing with Yoongi's. It felt warm and full. You panted, catching your breath, and let your body go limp in Hoseok's arms. He held onto you, his cock still buried inside of you, before pulling out.

Namjoon

“Yes…” Namjoon grunted, head tilted back, his tongue resting over his bottom lip as he slid his cock in and out of your ass. His fingers were in your mouth, keeping you from speaking, you sucked and licked them, moaning around them, your own fingers clutching at the bedspread, trying to stay grounded against his hard thrusts.

The muscles in your body tensed and flexed, the pain from being stretched so wide mixing with pleasure that came when he pushed all the way in, your entire body tingling as you rocked with his hips.

Your toes were curling, you tried to moan around the fingers in your mouth, he kept the pace of his thrusts steady, a hand on your hip holding you still.

This all felt so dirty, you never would’ve thought that you’d let a man fuck you like this, but it felt so good, so intense.

Your pussy wasn’t lonely, Namjoon had pushed a vibrator in it. The buzzing sent waves through you, made the experience even better.

His fingers slipped out of your mouth, you gasped for air, feeling him shift his weight slightly. He gripped both of your wrists with one hand, keeping them locked behind your back, his other hand wrapping around your neck, squeezing as he pushed in deep.

You whimpered, your hips moving on their own, pushing back into his cock. You were losing control of your body, it felt so good, your pussy was clenching and quivering.

“You love having some stranger be the first, don’t you? Taking that cock so good, I’d think this wasn’t your first time, so fucking good. Get on all fours.” He was breathing hard, voice raspy, his words sending chills down your spine.

You scrambled to your knees, letting him move you, pushing your upper body down into the mattress. His hands gripped your hips, he pulled almost all the way out and slammed his cock back in.

You screamed, it felt so good, a deep throb of pleasure, you clutched the bedspread, your back arching, a whimper leaving your lips.

He fucked you hard, grunting with each thrust, you felt every inch of him inside you, every time he hit bottom it made you shiver, your mouth hanging open as you moaned and panted.

“Harder, harder!” You begged.

You were going to cum, you were right on the edge, you needed him to make you go over.

His fingers were in your hair, he gripped it and yanked, making your body bend, he thrust deep, your body tensing up, you bit your lip.

His fingers were around your neck again, his body leaning over yours, his chest on your back, he fucked you fast, hard, making the bed bounce.

You felt his breath on your cheek, a hand cupping your breast, a thumb flicking over your nipple.

It was too much, you were moaning, body convulsing as you came. He was still fucking you, hard, you couldn’t breathe, it was so intense, too much, but so good.

He was panting and groaning, his fingers squeezed your neck, you felt his dick swell inside you and then he came.

A loud, long groan, his cock twitched and filled you up, you shivered, feeling it leak out and run down your thighs.

Your body was weak, you felt him release your hair, you slumped down onto the bed, chest heaving, a thin layer of sweat coating your body.

A stranger took your anal virginity and you loved it.

Jimin

“Mm, just like that.” Jimin cooed as he placed a hand on your head, his eyes filled with lust as he watched you take his cock deeper and deeper.

He was sitting at the edge of his bed, and you were on your knees in front of him, pleasuring him with your mouth, your hands resting on his thighs for support.

You looked up at him with his dick in your mouth, and his eyes met yours. He smirked, running his fingers through your hair and tugging on it gently. You hummed in response, and you could feel the vibration of your throat against the tip of his cock, causing him to buck his hips, making you take his entire length. You gagged a bit, and he smiled, his hand still holding your head.

You soon moved to the bed, and he wanted to watch you ride him, so he laid on his back and watched you climb on top of him, his cock throbbing with need.

He watched as you hovered over him, taking his cock and rubbing it against your clit. You moaned as you rubbed him against your most sensitive area, and he could feel you getting wetter and wetter by the second.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. You positioned yourself, and slowly, you sank down onto his cock, moaning loudly.

You stayed like that for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being filled. “Your cock is so hard, filling me so nicely, feels so good…” You whispered as you placed your hands on his chest, and then you started moving.

Jimin watched as you moved on top of him, the sight of your tits bouncing turning him on even more, and the noises coming out of your mouth were music to his ears. His hands gripped onto your hips, pushing you down harder as you moved.

He was so deep inside of you, and the friction from his dick rubbing against your walls was making you dizzy. It didn't help that the room was starting to fill with the smell of sex, which only made you more horny.

Soon, the two of you were fucking hard, and the sound of your skin slapping together mixed with your moans and whimpers.

“Mmm…” You whimpered, circling your hips before you started to bounce again.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Jimin breathed out as he reached up to cup your breasts, his thumbs rubbing against your hard nipples.

Your eyes fluttered closed as his touch sent sparks throughout your body, and you started bouncing faster. You weren’t sure how long you were riding him for when he stopped you. He pushed you down onto the bed, pinning your hands on the mattress before he wrapped his fingers around yours.

His body was pressed against yours, his cock buried deep inside of you, and he began to pound into you, hitting that spot inside of you that made your toes curl. You couldn't stop moaning and writhing beneath him, and he loved watching you become undone.

The pleasure was so intense that you thought you might pass out, but then he started rubbing your clit and you knew that you wouldn’t last long.

He leaned down and started kissing your neck, his tongue gliding along your skin. You tilted your head back, exposing more of your neck, and he took the opportunity to start sucking and biting it.

“You are hitting it just right…” You moaned, and he groaned against your skin, thrusting harder.

After a few more thrusts, he could feel his climax approaching, so he released your hands and sat up, pounding into you hard, his hands holding onto your ankles to spread your legs apart further.

You watched as his chest heaved, and his abs glistened with sweat. The look in his eyes was primal, and you knew that he was about to cum.

“Fuck, the way your pussy clenches around my cock, fuck, can’t get enough of you, babe, love fucking you like this, mmm, gonna make me cum.” Jimin’s hands now moved to your sides, holding you into place as he picked up the pace.

You reached up and grabbed onto his arms, digging your nails into his skin. The sound of his voice, the feeling of him deep inside of you, and his words, all brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Suddenly, your whole body started to tremble, and you felt a surge of heat run through your veins. You came hard, and you couldn't help but moan loudly.

Your walls clamped down around his cock, and he couldn’t hold back anymore. He came deep inside of you, groaning and growling.

When the two of you came down from your high, he collapsed next to you. He pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you.

Taehyung and Jungkook

Your hunger for cock was insatiable. Five cocks had already pounded your pussy, and you thought you were satisfied, but when one good looking man named Taehyung hit on you, followed by another good looking man named Jungkook, you felt your body ask for more.

Your head was tilted back, resting on Taehyung’s shoulder as you bounced your body up and down his cock, riding him. He gripped your hips, moaning your name, his face in your neck as his thick member slid in and out of your wet pussy.

The two males weren’t done with you just yet, Jungkook and Taehyung had taken you into multiple positions, you had sucked both of their cocks, and yet here you still were. Their staminas were amazing, and you couldn’t ask for a better way to end the night.

“Do you think she can take two cocks, Kookie?” You heard Taehyung ask his friend, who was sitting back and lazily stroking his dick while he watched the two of you fuck.

You gasped and pulled your head up, looking at the both of them in shock. Two? They wanted to fuck you at the same time?!

"Can you?” Jungkook asked you, and you felt both their eyes on you.

You had never had two cocks in you before, but you were so horny, you needed them, and you had a feeling that this would be the last thing you wanted to do tonight.

“I want to try, I want both of you in me, please." You begged, and the two males chuckled, they found you adorable and hot at the same time.

"You heard her, let's go Kookie." Taehyung said, spreading your pussy with his fingers. “Is this your first time?” He asked.

“Yes…” You nodded.

He chuckled.

"Good. You deserve two big cocks for the first time." He teased, and kissed your neck.

Jungkook positioned himself in front of you, and rested his one hand on your thigh while his other held his length into place as he pushed himself into you, making you gasp.

Your hand went over your mouth, and you felt him stop, waiting for your cue. You looked over at him, nodding for him to keep going.

“O-oh…” You whimpered as your pussy was filling with two cocks instead of one. It was an odd feeling, and you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure you were feeling.

Jungkook leaned in and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply as he pushed into your dripping cunt, helping your body get used to the size of his cock.

“So full, so stuffed, ah!” You whimpered, desperately trying to grasp onto anything. Fuck, you felt like your pussy was stretched to the max. Their cocks felt so amazing, you squeezed your eyes shut and gritted your teeth as you felt Jungkook push further into your pussy.

Your walls were being spread as far as they could go, and it was so damn amazing. You didn’t even realize that something like this was possible, oh fuck, they were stuffing you so nicely.

You had only gotten a taste of what it was like to have two men fill you up at the same time, and now you were addicted.

Jungkook paused when he managed to fill you with his every inch, and the two men started to kiss you against the face, switching up from your face to your lips as they allowed your pussy to get used to the large intrusion.

After a few moments, you opened your eyes and nodded, letting them know that it was okay to move.

“O-oh!” You shuddered as Taehyung started, moving in and out of you in a slow pace.

His hands were wrapped around your waist, and your body was pushed back against his, allowing him to thrust up into you while you were sat on his lap. Jungkook followed a few seconds later, when Taehyung slid out, Jungkook slid in, and one and off they followed this same rhythm.

You couldn’t even close your mouth, drool dripping down the side of your lip as they fucked you. You could feel them, oh fuck, you could feel them hitting the deepest parts of your body, and it was making your body tingle. The drool fell on your chest, a puddle collecting.

“You like that? Dirty girl?” Jungkook purred.

You couldn’t even talk, you could only answer with a moan.

"You like having two cocks in your little slutty cunt, huh?" Taehyung added, licking his lips.

Oh fuck, yes, you loved it, you couldn't explain how much you were enjoying this.

You closed your eyes and focused on the feeling, feeling their large dicks move in and out of you, making you feel full, so very full.

“Doing so well for your first time, your body was made to take two big cocks at the same time, isn’t that right baby girl? So fucking sexy and slutty for us, yeah?"

“Love two cocks in my pussy, mmm, love it so much." You whimpered, throwing your head back as they started to go faster.

They switched it up this time, now they both pounded in and out of you at the same time, fucking you hard and deep. You were shaking, gripping the sheets as they pounded away at you, fucking you hard enough to make you scream.

The bed rocked under you, the mattress creaking as you were fucked hard by the two guys.

They didn't slow down, not one bit, and your screams were so loud that people from the next room could hear, and you didn't give a single shit. You had two cocks in you and it was the best experience ever.

You were a mess, you were dripping, soaking the bed with your juices, and your body was twitching with pleasure, oh fuck.

Taehyung took a break while Jungkook pounded into you, and he leaned forward, pressing his lips against yours, kissing you passionately.

When it was time for Jungkook to take a break, Taehyung thrusted into you, and you moaned against his mouth, his tongue slipping into yours.

Tongue against tongue, two cocks against one pussy, lips against lips, moans against moans. It was all too much, but at the same time, not enough.

“What is your favorite, babygirl? Tell us how you like us to fuck you.” Taehyung whispered against your ears.

You whimpered exactly how you wanted their two cocks to fuck you, and they happily listened to your wish.

“Ah! Ah!” Tears built up in your eyes before they rolled down your cheeks, you couldn’t handle it anymore. This felt so fucking good, having your pussy abused and used like this, sandwiched between those two men as they beat your pussy up, oh the way those long thick cocks filled your pussy to the brim, the way their cocks were stretching your pussy walls out, and the way they were abusing your g spot, it was all too much.

Your moans and whimpers turned into cries and screams. You couldn't take it anymore. You had been fucked by five other men before these two, and you had already cum so many times, and the overstimulation was really hitting you now.

"Fuck her harder, Kookie, she can take it."

They were going harder than before, if that was even possible, and you were seeing stars. You had never felt this amount of pleasure before.

Your toes curled, and your eyes rolled back, your mouth wide open as your body went limp against Taehyung, the room spinning as their cocks continued pounding into you without mercy.

The men knew that you were about to orgasm, and they kept going, knowing that you could take more.

Taehyung gripped onto your breasts, kneading into them, and he and Jungkook were panting heavily. You could hear their breathless moans, and they were whispering sweet things to you.

You were a drooling, twitching, sobbing mess, and the men were loving it. They loved seeing their slutty girl getting her pussy stretched by their cocks, they loved the way your pussy clenched around them, the way it dripped all over them.

Their dirty words, their hands all over your body, their cocks in your pussy, their mouths kissing all over you… You never wanted this to end.

“Cum… cum..” You didn’t know how to talk anymore, feeling light headed and delirious as your body was overwhelmed with pleasure. You didn’t even know where you were anymore or what your name was, the world was spinning and blurry, and all you could focus on was the feeling of their cocks.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” It felt so close, your whole body started to shake heavily, your eyes unable to focus on anything as your toes curled, and the intense pleasure washed over you. It took over your whole body and the heat washed through every inch as you orgasmed; it was the best one you had in your whole life, it felt like heaven.

The pleasure was too intense, and you were screaming as you were hit with wave after wave of pure bliss. You came all over their cocks, squirting so much, and you could hear them moan, the sounds of their voices sending you even higher.

Their thrusts grew sloppy and slow, both enjoying how you orgasmed around their cocks, yet eager to fill you up with their cum.

"That's it baby, milk our cocks with that tight pussy, yeah, fuck." Jungkook hissed.

Your pussy was still throbbing and squeezing around them, and the two men groaned.

Taehyung's arms tightened around your waist and he growled, pushing his cock in as deep as he could and released his seed, groaning in pleasure.

Jungkook picked up the pace and he did the same, digging his fingers into your thighs as he filled you with his seed.

They kept thrusting as they came, and the feeling of their hot, sticky, cum inside of you, and their cocks twitching inside of your sensitive pussy, made you squirt again, your body trembling.

You were left gasping and panting, trying to catch your breath. Your vision was still hazy and it took you a few moments before the room stopped spinning.

You were laid down on the bed, you weren’t even sure by who, as you laid there trying to catch your breath. You could feel the bed was soaked underneath you.

Fuck, this was the best day of your life.

#bts smut #bts requests #bts x reader #bts smut requests #bts poly fic #bts group smut #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #Jungkook smut #Jimin smut #Namjoon smut #bts seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #bts smut story #bts smut reactions #smut bts

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drewsephrry · 1 month

Text

guilty as sin?

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Words: 11.8k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, alcohol and drug consumption, cuss words, violence (punches mostly), cheating

Inspired by: Guilty as Sin? by Taylor Swift (and most of the songs from The Tortured Poets Department)

loml

party at top's 2nite

be ready by 8

Seen 5:53 pm

You

okay

i love you

Delivered 5:54 pm

You and Y/Bf/N have been together for three years now, but it feels a lot different than how it started.

At first he was really sweet, thoughtful and caring. He brought you flowers for most if not all of your dates. You loved him so much and trusted him with your whole life.

Although everyone around you seemed to have a very different opinion than you.

All the wine moms in their Sunday best would be clutching their pearls, sighing, whispering “What a mess!” whenever you would walk in the Country Club. They would shake their heads saying "God, help her" when you would tell them he's your man.

God save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for you.

You had a lot of arguments with your parents about him and if he was taking care of you. Most of the arguments ending with you screaming “But daddy I love him.”

But lately, he was more distant.

When you went out or he was over at your house, where you spent most of your time together, he would sit on his phone. And you had gotten bored, feeling the need to cry when he left without kissing you or saying ‘I love you’ back.

But you couldn't just throw everything you had built away to the wolves or onto the ocean rocks.

You were in the middle of picking out an outfit for the party, when you heard the notification sound on your phone. You picked it up, expecting your boyfriend had replied but what you saw made you smile wider.

rafey

heard this today and thought of homecoming lol

*The Downtown Lights by The Blue Nile*

Seen 6:17 pm

Rafe had sent you the song that you had danced with him back in the homecoming dance that you hadn't heard in a while. You smiled at the memory and sent him a picture you had in your favorites folder, of you two in front of your staircase. Toothy grins and his tie matching the maroon color of your dress.

You

how could i forget?

*image attached*

Seen 6:18 pm

You and Rafe had been friends for many years, mostly because you and Sarah were best friends since you were both 5. That meant that you both spent a lot of time in each other's houses, going on vacations with your families and having family dinners almost each week.

You couldn't help but take a liking to the older Cameron, because he was always kind and sincere to you, despite what everyone else was saying. He was always there for you when you needed him.

When your homecoming date canceled on you at the last minute, Rafe stepped in without a second thought. Even if he was two years older than you and your friend group. Or when you first got your heart broken, he had gone out to buy you ice cream and stayed with you while you were watching ‘The Notebook’ with Sarah.

“He built her the house, Rafey!”

Or when you were in the Bahamas with the Camerons and your family and your period decided to ruin your vacation, Rafe was the one who went out and got you everything you needed.

“Can you unlock the door for me sweetheart? I got you the stuff.”

And afterwards stayed with you to ensure you were okay and did impressions of his family to make you laugh.

Or last year, when you and your friends had all decided to go to Florida. Everyone was high and they all reeked of weed. While you downed a bottle of wine and had accidentally locked yourself in the bathroom crying, wearing a short black skirt with the lacy details. Rafe was the only one who tried to help you out and when he finally got the door unlocked, he held you and tried to get you to quiet down.

“Shh, I know princess. You'll be alright”.

You were really ashamed to admit that Rafe had crossed your mind once or twice while dating your current boyfriend.

And you were mostly ashamed that he had invaded your mind in your more private moments with Y/Bf/N.

“How does that feel, sweetheart?” Y/Bf/N’s head, between your legs, his chin glistening with your wetness, his fingers inside you searching for that sweet spot that made you see stars. The sweet spot only you had found.

But the way he whispered the nickname that you had only ever heard from Rafe, made you close your eyes and imagine it was him fingering you.

“Ye-yeah, babe. Can you go faster?” You whispered, your eyes still shut and your hips grinding on Y/Bf/N's face. He smirked and dove right back in.

Your mind was still on Rafe though, imagining his long fingers touching that sweet spongy spot, his mouth sucking your clit, while his other hand would grab one of your tits, playing with the nipple.

“Mine.” Rafe whispered, pressing a kiss on your upper thigh while his fingers worked wonders inside you.

And that brought you closer and closer to your release. Moaning loudly, thankful that your parents had gone out.

“Baby, you squirted.” Y/Bf/N whispered, making you open your eyes and staring at him, sighing.

Was it a crime?

rafey

will you go to top's party tn?

Seen 6:21 pm

You

yes

wbu?

Seen 6:23 pm

rafey

see you there princess

Seen 6:24 pm

You giggled and continued roaming your closet to find a dress. You needed to take your mind off of Rafe, quickly and effectively. But all you could actually do is play Taylor Swift loudly on your speaker and get ready for the party.

At 8, your phone rang and you saw your boyfriend's contact.

“Hey, I'm putting on my shoes right now. Do you want to come upstairs?” You put your phone on speaker, while tying your heels.

“I'm leaving my house now. I'll be there in five. Just wait outside for me, okay?” You could hear him, buckling his seatbelt.

“That's alright. I'll see you in a bit. I love you and drive safely!” You smiled, finishing with your right foot.

“Yeah, bye.” He said, hanging up. You sighed, trying not to cry to avoid messing up your makeup.

Why was this so hard? You could do it with a broken heart.

After five minutes, you went outside and he had just parked, looking up from his phone when he heard your front door close. You got in and leaned over the console to give him a kiss on the lips, which he accepted.

“Hi baby. You smell good.” He said, starting the car.

“Thank you. It's the perfume your mom bought me for my birthday. I've put it on before.” You replied, buckling your seatbelt, sighing once again.

When you reached Topper's house, he helped you out of the car and walked with you inside the house, searching for your friend group. You found them in the kitchen, mixing up drinks and talking shit about a pogue that crashed Kelce's car.

All of the boys started hollering when you and your boyfriend, holding hands, entered the kitchen, greeting him with high fives. Topper gave you a side hug and thanked you for coming, to which you just smiled and replied that you wouldn't miss it. You felt Y/Bf/N pulling away from you to talk more with the other boys while you just stood in the middle of the kitchen, playing with the hem of your dress.

“Hey! There's my favorite girl!” A familiar voice was heard and you looked up to find Rafe approaching you. Holding a beer bottle, dressed in a light blue polo that showed every muscle of his.

Crashing into him made you feel like he's a paradox, making you question everything, even your own sanity and morality.

“Hi Rafey!” You smiled and he hugged you tightly when he was finally close. His scent engulfed you in a daydream, as you hugged him back.

“Fuck, are you wearing that perfume your ‘mother-in-law’ got you? Smells really good, sweetheart.” He said, grinning like the devil.

You nodded, surprised and looked around to search for Y/Bf/N, who was now gone.

“Want a drink?” Rafe asked, making you nod once more. “Your usual?” His grin wider as he approached the cooler pulling out a watermelon flavored Whiteclaw. You thanked him when he handed it to you and you grimaced when a shirtless guy with sunglasses entered the kitchen and started yelling.

“Let's go outside. It's quieter. Come on” He said, pulling your free hand to follow him. You looked around once more for Y/Bf/N but nodded to Rafe and let him pull you outside. His tan, veiny hand, way bigger than yours making your mind travel at what his long fingers could do.

Are you bad or mad or wise?

You shook your head from the dirty thoughts fogging up your brain and flushing your cheeks.

“He is there playing beer pong with the guys. Don't worry.” He exclaimed, walking outside and sitting down on a chair, pulling you to sit beside him.

“How have you been? I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!” He asked, sipping his beer. “Why haven't you been to Tannyhill lately? Did you and my sister fight or something?” He continued asking, chuckling with the last question thinking that was impossible.

“I've been good. Just really busy. I was literally there last week.” You replied, taking a sip of your Whiteclaw, the drink refreshening you. You looked to the table, where your boyfriend stood with his friends as they yelled at someone to throw the ball. You rolled your eyes and looked back at the cerulean ones, you couldn't stop thinking about.

Thinking about how he would stare at you while he would lower his mouth where you would need him the most, leaving love bites all over your breasts, your tummy and thighs. Then he would come back and messily kiss you, as he would enter you, swallowing your moans.

“Y/N, did I lose you?” He chuckled, snapping his fingers in front of you as you removed yourself from your trance. You felt your skin heating up, as you looked down and played with the hem of your dress once more.

Without ever touching his skin, how could you be guilty as sin?

“I'm sorry. Just in my head these days.” You apologized.

“Why? What's up? Is something bothering you with mr. Boring guy over there?” He asked, nodding his head towards the guys.

“What? He's not boring. If somebody's boring me, I think it's me.” You said quoting one of your favorite poets.

“Dylan Thomas? Really?” you looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“Ho-Since when do you know Dylan Thomas?” you asked, never taken Rafe as a guy who reads poetry.

“Do you not remember? Last year? In Florida?” He asked, chuckling, also furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “I called you a little alcoholic and you said that ‘an alcoholic is someone you don't like who drinks as much as you do’. I asked you where you got that from and you said Dylan Thomas. So afterwards, I found some of his work and I was really enamored. I guess. I-It's lame.” He tried to explain, getting embarrassed and shaking his head.

“It's not.” You whispered, grabbing his hand, smiling. “It's really cool actually.” He shook his head grinning at you.

“So?” After a minute of silent stares, he asked.

“So what?” You asked back. “What's up with you and Y/Bf/N?” He asked again. You sighed, knowing you cannot lie to Rafe but also knowing that you cannot tell him the complete truth, which is you have been falling for him.

“I-we are…No. I can't and I won't lie to you, things have been…I don't know how to explain it. He's just been a little distant lately. And…I don't know if I should even be telling you this.” You tried to explain, chuckling.

“Come on, I've known you since what? Since you were 5?” You nodded. “I don't mind listening to you talking about this or anything. You should know by now that you can always come to me. Always, Y/N.”

“I know. Just feels kinda weird talking to the wrong Cameron.” You took another sip of your drink.

“Do you want me to wear a wig or some shit?” He said getting up, pointing towards the house like he was going to get an actual wig. Maybe he would, if you said yes. You pulled his hand to pull him back down and laughed at him.

“Don't! I just have never talked to you about stuff like that before.” You said, looking back at the beer pong table, noticing that your boyfriend was suddenly gone. You shrugged it off, thinking he went to get a drink.

“You don't have to. But if you ever want someone to talk to, you know where you can find me, sweetheart.” There it was again. You felt like melting on the spot.

“I know and thank you Rafey. I really appreciate it. I just feel-” “There you are! I looked everywhere for you!” Y/Bf/N slurred. You looked up and planted a small smile for him.

“Was here all along.” You said lowly to which Rafe snorted. “Got something to say Rafe?” Y/Bf/N scoffed and sucked his teeth.

Rafe and Y/Bf/N were never big fans of each other. They were forced to hang out because of the rest of their friend group and mostly, because of you even though you didn't want either one of them to feel uncomfortable being around the other.

“Let's just go. I need another drink.” You got up, grabbing Y/Bf/N's hand, before anything could start between the two. Rafe tightened his jaw and rolled his eyes looking away.

“I'll see you around, Rafe.” You greeted him, smiling sadly at him. He nodded, understanding and got up to join the rest of the boys.

The following weekend, Sarah had invited you over for a pool day. You were laying on the daybed, looking at your phone screen, waiting for a notification or a call to go off. You had texted your boyfriend, hours ago, to go to a party later the same day and he hadn't given a single sign of life.

“Y/N, turn it off. It's going to bother you for the rest of the day if you don't.” Sarah stated, coming out of the big mansion holding drinks in each hand. She handed you one, sitting down on the other daybed beside you.

“I'm sorry. You're right. I…it's just that things are weird between us. He's been ghosting me a lot lately and he's really distant. We barely hang out and when we do he's mostly on his phone or playing video games with the guys.” You confessed, sighing. Feeling like a weight has been lifted, finally getting the chance to talk about this with your best friend.

“Have you talked to him about it?” She asked, swirling her straw around her drink.

“No. Whenever I try talking to him about it, something happens. But there's more. Can I confess something to you?” You worriedly ask.

“Dude, did you murder someone?” Sarah jokingly asks, raising her eyebrows. “No! Sar!”

“Not yet!” She adds and you chuckle, shaking your head and then put your drink down.

“I need you to promise me to not say a word about this Sar. It's so embarrassing and wrong on so many levels.” You expressed taking hold of her hands.

“Y/N, you're scaring me. Of course, I promise.” She said, extending her pinky as well, intertwining with yours.

“Okay, so these last few days, maybe even weeks, I have had some thoughts. I have been thinking about someone else while I'm with Y/Bf/N. I-There's this guy that I think I have feelings for but I really shouldn't. I mean, it's wrong. It's so unfair towards Y/Bf/N. Fuck, I'm such a bad girlfriend.” You rambled, holding your head in your hands.

“Okay. Stop. You're not. You're the best girlfriend anyone could have. Y/Bf/N has never treated you properly and I know what I'm going to say is going to hurt, but he's not the one for you. Especially after treating you like this. And having these thoughts doesn’t make you a bad person or a bad girlfriend. I mean there's no such thing as bad thoughts, only actions talk.” Sarah reassured you, pulling your hands away from your face and giving your shoulder a squeeze.

“Okay, now that we got that off your mind. Who is it?” Sarah asked excitedly. You raised your eyebrows, opening your mouth to reply but you couldn't form any words.

“I…it's-”

“Hello, ladies!” Topper appeared just in time, Kelce and Rafe following.

Sarah got up to greet the boys and you stood up, walking towards the older Cameron first.

“Hey Rafey!” You greeted, wrapping your arms around his waist. His large biceps curled around your shoulders, bringing you in a tight embrace.

“Hi sweetheart! You okay?” He whispered and you pulled away from his chest, nodding with a small smile. Then you hugged Topper and Kelce, making small talk with both.

“Hey, wanna help me in the kitchen?” Rafe suggested.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, walking inside the house, Rafe following you towards the kitchen. You sat on the counter and saw Rafe grabbing three bottles of beer from the fridge, leaving them on the counter beside you.

“What's up?” He asked, coming to stand between your legs, his two arms caging you. You felt your breath hitching, your whole body warming up and your swimsuit getting damp at the sight of his tan chest and abs.

“What do you mean?” You asked, clearing your throat.

“You don't seem okay. And I'm kind of worried.” He confessed.

“I'm good. Yeah. Thanks for asking.” You looked down at your thighs. “You sure? You can always talk to me. If you want.” He rambled, as you smiled once more and nodded before looking into his eyes, filled with concern and wondering if he had ever thought of you as something more than his sister's best friend.

“Yeah, I know. And thank you, truly. I just am in a weird situation with Y/Bf/N. He hasn't answered any of my texts today and we have barely hung out lately.” You confessed, pouting. Rafe's blood was boiling, seeing how Y/Bf/N had upset you so much.

“I'm sorry sweetheart, it sucks that he treats you like this. You deserve better, you know?” He admitted, reminding you of what his sister told you mere minutes ago. “Yeah, I guess you're right.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asked, only then making you realize how close you are to each other. His chain dangling from his neck, his abs and biceps flexing with each small movement and the black swim shorts clinging on his thighs that you'd want to ride.

“Honestly,” you sighed, “I have no idea. I need some time to think about everything.” You exclaimed, Rafe nodded giving you a compassionate smile.

“Come here.” He pointed to himself as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders, making you wrap your own around his waist.

“I don't like seeing you sad. Especially because of him.” He added, making you chuckle in his chest.

“And you know what they say. Though lovers be lost, love shall not.” He exclaimed, adding another Dylan Thomas quote, this one happening to be one of your favorites too.

You pulled away from his chest and smiled wider, your eyes flickering between his blue ones and his plump lips. He licked his lips out of instinct and leaned in slightly.

“Yo, where are those beers bro?” Kelce entered the kitchen, making you and Rafe immediately pull away. You got off the counter grabbing two of the beers and walked towards Kelce, handing him one, before going outside to give Top his own.

“Fucking cockblock.” Rafe whispered, under his breath.

Some hours later, you were reading a book on the daybed, while the boys and Sarah were playing volleyball in the pool. They all got out and spread out to sit on the other daybeds by the pool to dry.

“You can join me, if you'd like.” You suggested to Rafe seeing he didn't have anywhere to lay down, pulling your sunglasses on your head.

“Do you mind?” He asked, approaching the daybed. “No, not at all!” You exclaimed, shaking your head and making space for him. He laid down, his skin touching you and cooling you down from the North Carolina heat.

In the span of a few minutes, quiet snores were heard as his chest went up and down with each breath he took. You couldn't help but sit and admire him and you reached with your hand to scratch his head.

The feeling of your hand in his hair, awakening him.

“I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up." You apologized profusely. Rafe smiled and laid his head on your chest, wrapping one of his arms around your waist falling back to sleep while you continued the scratching, pulling a strand or two on the back of his head making him sigh in pleasure.

Thinking about how you would pull his hair while he ate you out or when you would make out and he would lower his lips to leave sweet kisses on your neck.

Suddenly you felt consumed by your fatal fantasies, despite knowing they're make-believe but they feel like binding promises with him that needed to stop filling your thoughts.

Looking at his eyelashes fluttering, his cheeks now red from being in the sun for the whole day and the freckles that adorned his shoulders started making you think about who else could satisfy him, if not you?

Who else could hold him like you? Who's gonna know him like you do?

Hours later, after taking a shower and doing your hair and makeup, you were in Sarah's bedroom trying to decide what to wear for the party.

“I still have that green dress you wore to Kiara's birthday last year, you could wear that.” Sarah suggested from her ensuite bathroom, as she applied mascara. You sighed, still roaming her closet for a cute dress. Suddenly, a knock was heard.

“Come in!” Sarah yelled from the bathroom, the door opening revealing a dripping wet Rafe with just a towel around his hips.

“Hey, do you have any idea where my shaving cream is?” Rafe asked, looking around the room for his sister, his eyes landing on you searching around the closet wearing an old shirt of his and shorts that didn't leave much to his imagination.

“Oh, sorry Y/N needed it.” Sarah said, pulling you out of your trance. “What? Oh, yeah. I'm sorry for that!” You apologized, walking to the bathroom to grab it.

“It's no problem.” He thanked you as you handed it to him. “In how long do you reckon you'll be ready?” He asked both of you, since he was the designated driver for the night, staring at you chewing on his gum.

“If Y/N ends up finding an outfit, I think in about 20. Maybe 30.” Sarah replied, coming out of the bathroom.

“You'd look good in anything, Y/L/N.” He winked, walking out of the room, shutting the door. You were left standing with your mouth open.

“Did you find something?” Sarah asked, putting deodorant on.

“I'm gonna do the green again.” You smiled, clearing your throat and walking towards the closet to grab it.

Rafe drove you and Sarah to the house where the party was held. Sarah grabbed your hand and dragged you inside, before you got the chance to thank him.

You reached the kitchen and got drinks, before finding the rest of your friend group. You couldn't help but look around, searching for him.

Your eyes finally reached the ocean blue eyes and you smiled, as he took a sip from his drink nodding slightly at you. You shook your head smiling, feeling your phone vibrating in your bag. You pulled it out and your boyfriend's name popped up.

“Oh, shit.” You whispered. Sarah saw your shocked expression and looked down at your hands holding your phone.

“You're not picking that up. He fucking ghosted you for a whole day!” She exclaimed, taking it from your grasp and throwing it in her own bag. “Let's go dance! Get your mind off him.” She suggested, grabbing your hands and running to the makeshift dance floor in the middle of the living room. The rest of the girls joined you, as well as some tourons who seemed to take a liking to all of you.

Rafe was staring at you, as a guy put his arms around you. You seemed uncomfortable, grimacing and pushing him away as gently as you could. Sarah even tried pulling you closer to her, shaking her head at him. But he was stronger, pulling you even closer than before. He started grinding his hips on your behind and you seemed disgusted and wanted to get out there. Rafe walked through the crowd, pushing some people to get to you faster.

“What's up man?” He asked, putting his arms on this guy’s shoulder pulling him from you.

“Yo, I'm kinda busy dude.” The touron replied, slurring mostly, grabbing your waist to pull you closer again.

“You're not. She's with me.” Rafe was irritated that he couldn't take no for an answer. This time he pushed the guy away from you.

“Yeah, right. Dude go find some other girl to fuck.” The guy exclaimed, coming closer again before Rafe stopped him by grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. “What the fuck dude?”

“You're going to leave her alone and you're going to get the fuck out of here.” Rafe's jaw tightened.

“You cannot tell me what to do.”

Rafe scoffed and looked at you.

“Can you hold my beer, sweetheart? Thanks.” He asked, handing you his bottle. Before you could look up from the bottle in your hand, a loud smack was heard and people hollered.

You looked up and the guy is on the ground, his nose bleeding and Rafe keeps throwing punches at him. Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, as Sarah pulled you towards her.

“Rafe! Stop!” You yelled, pulling away from Sarah. Rafe, at the sound of your voice, stopped the punches. He got up, spitting on the guy, before walking away.

You looked around, at the crowd of people staring at you expectantly. You opened your mouth to say something but you just sighed and walked to the direction, Rafe had gone.

You were reaching the staircase, when you felt something or rather someone, pulling on your hand. You turned around and Y/Bf/N was there.

“Why the fuck are you ignoring my calls?” He demanded, tightening his grip around your wrist.

“Not right now Y/Bf/N.” You tried to escape his grip but he was stronger than you.

“What the fuck do you mean not right now? You fucking ghosted me!” He exclaimed, pulling you towards him.

“Now you know what that feels like.” You replied, finally escaping his pull on you.

“Y/N! Y/N! Get the fuck back here!” He yelled, but it was no use. You were already up the stairs, searching for Rafe. You entered two bedrooms until you reached the third to find him sitting on the bed holding his head in his hands.

“Rafey?” You whispered, entering the room and closing the door.

“I'm okay, Y/N. Go back downstairs.” He advised, raising his head to look at you. His hair was messed up, probably from his fingers dragging through it.

“How is your hand?” You asked, approaching him and taking a seat beside him. Softly, you grabbed his hand to examine it. His knuckles were bruised and bloody.

You got up and walked in the ensuite, searching for a first aid kit or anything that could help you clean up his hand. You found some gauze and a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You sat back beside him and pulled his hand in your lap as you carefully cleaned his knuckles, grimacing whenever he hissed from the pain and lastly you wrapped his hand in gauze.

“All better now.” You exclaimed, sighing.

“Thanks.” He whispered. “I'm sorry that you had to witness all of that.” He apologized, looking at his now bandaged hand.

“I should be thanking you. That guy was…I-I really appreciate you helping me. I don't know what would have happened if you didn't step up.” You reassured him, grabbing his hand once again. He looked up and stared into your eyes, as you got lost in his gaze.

“My sister is probably searching for you.” He reminded you as he pulled his hand out of your grasp, making you frown slightly.

“Yeah, you're probably right.” You said, playing with the hem of your dress. “Y/Bf/N is here too.” You whispered.

“Wait, really?” You nodded as Rafe sighed.

“Do you want to talk to him?” He asked and you sighed, shaking your head.

“No, not right now. I don't know.” You replied confused. “He had the fucking audacity to grab me and yell at me ‘cause I didn't answer his call a few minutes ago while he hasn't even replied to one of my texts.” You rambled, rolling your eyes.

“He grabbed you?” Rafe asked, his eyebrows furrowing in concern and his jaw tightened.

“Okay, easy tiger. I can handle him.” You chuckled and he did the same. “He'll shit his pants.” He joked and you snorted.

“Yeah, right. Who's afraid of little old me?” You asked, rolling your eyes before turning to look at him again, catching him staring back at you. This time, you were closer than before. His lips mere inches away from yours. Your eyes flickered up and down his face.

“Y/N-” “Can I kiss you?” You blurted out. His eyes looked deeply into yours.

“You're drunk. I-We can't.” He explained. “I never finished my drink.” You said quickly. You felt like your heart was going to explode, your breaths were deep and quick.

“Sweetheart-” Before he could finish his sentence, your lips were on his. You pulled away for a split second, before he put his hands on your face pulling you back into him. Your tongues fighting for dominance inside your mouth, as one of your hands traveled down his chest and the other wrapped around his shoulder and into his hair pulling strands. He groaned into the kiss as he pulled you to straddle his lap, your dress bunching up over your hips, your lacy black underwear appearing, as you messily made out with him. His hands pulled your hips to grind on him, as he groaned.

After a few minutes, you pulled away, seeing his lips glistening with your lip gloss, his hair messy and his cheeks flushed. You felt a poke on your inner thigh and you giggled, playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Sorry for that.” He apologized, chuckling breathlessly. “I just feel so high school every time I look at you.” You giggled and nodded. “The feeling's mutual.”

“I can't believe that this actually happened. Holy shit.” He cursed, falling backwards on the bed, pulling you with him giggling.

“What the fuck am I gonna do?” You whispered, as your lips brushed his jawline. “With you?” You whispered, as you bit the lobe of his ear.

“Y/N…” He shuddered. “I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you or anything. I know that things are messy with Y/Bf/N, but I can't handle being a rebound or something for you to make up your mind about him. Cause I'm down bad for you.” You sat up, listening to him.

“Rafe, I can't stop thinking about you. That's mostly the reason I want to break things off with Y/Bf/N.”

“What are you talking about?” He asked, his hands finding home on the curves of your hips.

“My relationship with Y/Bf/N was good at first, but I couldn't help myself but compare him to you at almost everything. Eventually my mind would just fog up and the only thing that was clear was you.” You confessed.

“Since wh-” His phone started ringing, interrupting him. He groaned as he pulled it from his pocket and answered it, after seeing it was his sister.

“She's with me. She's okay. Yeah. Bye.” He hung up quickly. “Y/Bf/N is searching for you. You should head downstairs.” He exclaimed, tightening his jaw once more.

“I don't w-” “We'll talk about this some other time, okay?” He said and you had no other choice but nod your head. You got off of him and walked towards the door, after pulling your dress back down and fixing your lipgloss on the vanity mirror.

“I'll see you around Rafey.” You greeted, as you reached for the door handle.

When you walked downstairs, you found Sarah in the kitchen with Kiara.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked immediately when she saw you approaching, wrapping her arms around you.

“Yeah, I'm alright. I just wanted to check on Rafe.” You nodded in assurance. “Hey, where's Y/Bf/N?” You asked, looking around the kitchen.

“I think he's with Topper.” Kiara replied, pointing towards the living room. You nodded, thanking her and walked there, Sarah and Kiara following not far behind.

You looked around for a few seconds, before your eyes fell on him sitting on the couch, with a blonde touron under his arm talking to Kelce while Topper was making out with a girl on the other side of the couch. Your eyes filled with tears and your jaw tightened.

Even though you were doing far worse things upstairs with Rafe, seeing this was killing you. You cleared your throat and approached them and when Y/Bf/N saw you, he removed his arm from around the touron and got up to greet you.

“Where were you? I was so worried, baby.” He said while you put on one of your fakest smiles and nodded. “I-I was in the bathroom upstairs. I felt kinda sick.” You lied, still smiling.

“Oh no. Let me order an Uber for you.” He said, pulling his phone from his pocket.

“I-What?” You were furious but also really confused. “I'm feeling fine now and I want to stay but would you really just get me a fucking taxi to go home?” You asked, scoffing.

“Don't.” He said in a warning tone, raising his eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and walked towards the girls.

“Let's get the fuck out of here.” Sarah advised, sending Y/Bf/N a death glare.

Sarah wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you outside towards Kiara's Jeep.

“He's a fucking douchebag. I, seriously, cannot understand what you saw in him!” Kiara exclaimed, as she put the key in the ignition. Sarah smacked her arm from the passenger seat, while you played with the hem of your dress.

“Yeah, neither do I.” You agreed.

The next morning, you woke up from your phone ringing. You groaned as you picked it up before checking on the contact name.

“Hello?” Your voice was still groggy from sleep.

“Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up, baby. I was just wondering if you'd be up for brunch at the Country Club.” Y/Bf/N suggested and you groaned once again before nodding your head even though he couldn't see you.

“Yeah, sure.” You agreed.

“Great, I'll pick you up in an hour. See you then.” He replied, smiling.

“Okay, bye.” You said, hanging up the call before he got the chance to say anything else. You looked over at the alarm clock on your bedside table, seeing as it was 9am. You got up and went into your ensuite to Take a warm shower. When you came out, your phone pinged signifying a new notification.

loml

love you

Seen 9:12 am

You just stared at the text, before leaving Sarah a voice message about what's happening. Then began getting ready, putting on one of your favorite sundresses and a pair of sandals.

When you reached the Country Club, you noticed that he was fidgeting and squirming in his seat.

“Are you okay?” You asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah, yeah baby. What do you wanna eat?” He said, picking up the menu, as the waitress approached.

“I'll have the blueberry pancakes.” You ordered smiling.

“I'll…um…I'll have the eggs benedict.” He said, as the waitress thanked and took the menus before she walked away. His eyes captivated on her walk back to the counter, making you roll your eyes.

“I'm sorry about last night. I shouldn't have reacted that way.” He apologized. “I shouldn't have grabbed you like that, I could've handled it better. But Y/N, I feel you slipping away and I cannot lose you. I love you so so much. You're the love of my life.”

“And I know this might sound crazy but I told Lucy I'd kill myself if you ever left. That's how much I've fallen for you” He said, chuckling, recalling a conversation he had with his sister. Gazing at you starry-eyed and you wondered if anything he was saying was true.

Your mind was trying to decide what to do. If you brought up Rafe, he would storm out, creating chaos. And if you broke things off now, he would make a huge scene, embarrassing you and tarnishing your family's name and reputation. Taking everything into consideration, you remembered what your mother always told you growing up. “Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“Last night was…eventful. I am not going to lie to you but I was hurt that you hadn't replied to me for a whole day, I was hurt that I found you with that touron. And after seeing how you've been behaving and-and treating me these last few weeks, I did not think we could recover from it. I thought we were done.” You confessed.

“I love you Y/N. You are the love of my life and I'll love for the rest of it. I'm so sorry I've ever made you feel like this. I truly am. But I am here, from now on. And I-I will change. For you.” He rambled, grabbing your hand from across the table. You smiled and nodded, letting him pull you for a kiss.

During the week, Y/Bf/N, truthfully had been a changed man. He was calling you every day to see what's up, hung out with you a lot more and even slept a few days at yours.

On Wednesday, you would be staying at Sarah's, as planned, but she had taken Wheezie on a shopping spree in the main land.

sarbear

the fucking ferry broke

might be extra late

go at mine

rafe is there

Seen 5:34pm

Your body covered with shivers, by Sarah mentioning her brother. You hadn't gotten the chance to see him after the party the previous week. You were really caught up with hanging out with Y/Bf/N, that you didn't get the chance to talk to him about what went down between you two. Even though your mind kept going back to the night of the party and the way he kissed you and touched your body.

You

hang in there

did you end up buying anything?

Seen 5:37 pm

sarbear

haul l8r

love you

sorry

Seen 5:40 pm

You

stfu

love you too

Seen 5:41 pm

After putting down your phone, you started making your bag for tonight before driving to Tannyhill. You rang the bell of the large mansion, a shirtless, tan adonis opening the door.

“Y/N? Sarah's not here.” He said, looking around the house.

“That's how you greet me? Come on, Cameron!” You smirked and he chuckled.

“Yeah, you're right. I'm sorry, where are my manners?” He asked, sarcastically.

“Sar said I could wait for her here.” You continued. “If that's okay?”

“Of course, yeah. Come in.” He opened the door further for you to enter. He walked to the kitchen, where he had left the fridge door open.

“I came downstairs to grab a bite. Do you want anything? Something to drink?” He suggested closing the fridge door.

“Water's just fine.” You smiled, reaching for the cabinet with the cups, pulling the purple one you've been using since you were 9, when you and Sarah went to Ikea with her parents and got matching ones. You have the other one in your home, for whenever Sarah comes over.

You filled it up and brought it to your lips taking a sip, as Rafe was searching through the pantry for snacks. He came out holding a few bags of candy and a bag of chips. You laughed at the sight and he looked at you confused.

“What? I'm hungry. You know, Rose says I'm still growing.” He muttered in a serious tone, making you cackle.

“I'm playing GTA with the boys upstairs. Wanna join?” He asked, making you notice the headset around his neck. He was already heading towards the staircase, after he grabbed your bag, where you followed like a lost puppy.

You entered his room after him, that was dark with the curtains closed, red colored LED lights lighting it up. The room was cold due to the air-conditioning, so cold that when you went in you started shivering, trying to cover up yourself with your hands. Rafe dropped your bag on his bed and noticed your shivering figure, immediately turning the A/C off, opening the windows.

“Are you just gonna stand there? Come on.” He said, sitting down with his back on the side of his bed, his ankles crossing. You followed him and sat down beside him, grabbing one of the bags of candy when you heard him chuckle.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“Nothing. I really wanted those Sour Patch Kids.” He replied, pointing at the bag of candy.

“Oh, I'm sorry. Take it.” You shoved it in his hand. He shook his head and put his headset back on.

“Kelce, you still there?” He asked, as he pressed some buttons on the Playstation controller and you could see a tiny person walk around on the screen.

“Can I play too?” You whispered and Rafe chuckled.

“Yo, Kelce!” He called. “Is Top joining?” He asked.

“Okay, you got about 10 minutes.” He spoke, handing you the controller, removing his headset. “So, what do you wanna do?”

“Can I punch someone? Or, or can I drive?” You asked excitedly and he nodded, showing you what buttons you have to press to steal someone's car and drive it. On your first try, you crashed on a building and started running.

“Okay, let's try again. Triangle to enter. There you go.” He encouraged you, while you threw a grandma out of her car and started driving.

“I'm doing it Rafey!” You exclaimed. “I know, I see that. Come on, press R2.” He advised, smiling at you.

“I did it!” You screamed, jumping on him when you parked the car. “That was so cool!” You whispered in the crook of his neck, as you hugged him. His hands traveled around your back, holding you close to him. When you pulled away, you stared at his blue eyes.

“S-sorry.” You apologized, getting off of his lap and removing your arms from around him.

“That's alright.” He whispered, putting the headset back on and grabbing the controller from your hand.

“Hey Kelce, you there?” He called, as you started biting your lip, chipping the nail polish off of one of your fingers, feeling embarrassed.

“You okay?” He asked, still looking at the screen. “Y/N?” He whispered and you looked at him, thinking that he spoke to one of the boys.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I just didn't want to make things awkward between us. Again.” You confessed and he nodded.

“You didn't. And I meant to talk to you about last weekend.” He admitted. “I do not regret what happened between us. And I know you probably did and I don't want to hear it. It's going to make things just worse for me. I'm already-” “Rafey.” You interrupted him. He turned to look at you, pausing the game. When you looked at his flushed from the heat cheeks and ocean blue eyes, you could not resist and every ounce of logic flew out the window. You grabbed his face and smashed your lips with his, your tongue entering his mouth as your hands traveled in his hair and chest.

“Y/N-” He pulled away “Touch me, please.” You whispered, begging him as you pulled him back on your lips. His hands faltered, as he brushed them on your back, pulling you on his lap. You both messily made out with each other, as Rafe's hands grazed your breasts and your ass, before hearing Kelce yell from the headset. You pulled away with your eyes wide.

“I have turned off the mic.” He admitted and you nodded, noticing your lipgloss, now transferred on his plump lips bringing you back to the last time you did this with him.

“You have to know I did not.” You confessed, your hand scratching the back of his head.

“Did what?” He asked, confused as Kelce continued talking on the headset.

“I did not regret it. I've wanted you for such a long time. Thought about you for such a long time. And I do want this, all of this…but-” “You're with Y/Bf/N.” He finished your sentence for you and you sighed.

“I tried to finish things off with him‐” “You love him, Y/N, I shouldn't get in the middle of this.” He said, trying to pull you off of him.

“No, no. I don't. I lo-love you.” You confessed, Rafe's eyes widened. “I do. I love you. You don't have to say anything and it may seem like I'm just saying it but I do mean it. I've loved you for such a long time.”

“Do you really mean it?” He whispered and you nodded, before Rafe crashed his lips back on yours.

“I'm so glad you said that.” He started. “Because I do too. I love you, Y/N. For, fuck, 8 years?” He scoffed and you smiled. He crashed his lips on yours again, before taking hold of the back of your thighs and swiftly lifted you in his arms before he laid you down on his bed. He removed his headset, throwing it beside the controller and then hovered over you, starting to kiss you messily once more.

His kisses started traveling down your body, slowly and gently. Your neck, your breasts, your tummy, your upper thighs.

You felt like your body was on fire, as his hands traveled on your torso, over your tank top.

“Can I?” He asked and you nodded, helping him remove it.

“Someone's eager.” He teased with a smirk on his mouth. “Very.” You answered, pulling him back to kiss him and then pushed his hand lower on your body where you needed him the most.

“Are you sure about this?” He asked and you nodded. “I need words, sweetheart.” That's all it took for you to make up your mind.

“Yes, Rafey. I want you. Your fingers, your mouth, anything.” You confessed and Rafe nodded before removing your shorts and panties in one move.

“Fuck.” He whispered. “You're gorgeous.”

Feeling more exposed than ever, you felt the need to close your legs, but he held them open.

“Don't be shy with me.” You nodded and you let him do his work on you. His fingers in delicate moves, traced your thighs and your pussy lips, before pulling them apart. You moaned, feeling his hot breath on you. He smirked, before he dove in with his mouth, licking and sucking your clit and shoving a finger in your hole. His finger entering and easily touching your sweet spot.

“Rafey!” You whimpered. He continued as he stared at your Y/E/C eyes. Moans were spilling out of your mouth as he added another finger, continuing his previous motions.

“Mine.” He whispered, kissing a spot on your upper thigh. You felt your body warming up, you were panting as he made you feel so good.

“Rafe, I-” “Go on, baby.” He encouraged, as in the span of a few seconds you felt the coil inside you snapping, cumming all over his face.

“Fuck.” You whispered, his face covered in your juices. He pulled his fingers out of you and pulled them in your mouth, making you moan once more.

“Than-” “Don't. It was my pleasure.” He exclaimed, coming over and kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself.

“Do you want me to help you?” You suggested, taking a glance at his cock, now hard and begging to get out of the confined space. “You don't have to.” He quickly brushed you off, shaking his head. He got off of you and into his ensuite to grab a towel so he could clean you up.

“Thanks.” You whispered, when he returned to bed. “You can take a shower, if you want.” He suggested, giving you yet another kiss.

“Y/N? Rafe?” Sarah's voice was heard.

“Shit.” You cursed, noticing you were still naked on Rafe's bed. He grabbed your articles of clothing and handed them quickly to you, as you did your fastest to put them on. Just in time, Sarah opened the door, finding you dressed sitting on Rafe's bed and he had fallen on the floor to grab his controller and headset, whilst also trying to cover his erection.

“I am so sorry. This day has been so chaotic. Come on, Wheezie wants to show you her new clothes!” She said, entering further into the room. You got up from your place on the bed, grabbing your bag.

“See you later, Rafe.” You greeted as Sarah pulled you out of the room, he winked at you and you chuckled before closing the door.

You and Sarah were watching 'The Breakfast Club’ in her bed, when Sarah fell asleep on your shoulder, drooling on your sleep shirt. Your phone pinged, from the night table beside you and you grabbed it smiling.

rafey

you asleep?

Seen 11:39 pm

You

not yet

your sister is tho

Seen 11:41 pm

rafey

fuck

i wanted to see you

finish what we started

Seen 11:43 pm

You bit your lip and smirked at his suggestion

You

i wish

btw i am going to talk to Y/Bf/N

break up w him

i don't want to lie to either of you

i want to be with you

if you want as well

i mean

we do not have to rush things

but it's up to you

Seen 11:47 pm

The dots on your screen disappeared, coming back minutes later

rafey

i wanna be w you

i love you Y/N

Seen 11:53 pm

You

i love you

good night

Seen 11:55 pm

“Can you grab me my water bottle?” Sarah said groggily and you smiled, handing her the bottle beside you. She took a few sips, before wrapping her arms around your torso and falling back asleep.

Saturday came around and it was a special one as you had planned a movie night with your best friends in Tannyhill.

Y/Bf/N had begun being distant again. You had called him many times since your last encounter with Rafe, to meet up and talk. But he never answered.

When all of your friends arrived, everyone sat around the living room as you helped Sarah carry the snacks and drinks from the kitchen. When you came out, you saw that there was one spot left besides John B, probably kept for Sarah. You looked around and saw Rafe smirking and nodding in his direction. You followed and stood in front of him.

“We can share.” He whispered, smirking. “If you'd like.” You nodded, seeing him make space on the loveseat. Before you could sit down, he pulled most of your weight to sit on his lap.

“Rafe!” You warned, whispering, pointing with your eyes to all of your friends.

“Don't worry, sweetheart.” He whispered in your ear, before he pulled a blanket over your legs. You made yourself comfortable on his lap, as his hands traveled low from your waist on your thighs, where your breath hitched.

“You're gonna have to be quiet. Can you do that princess?” He whispered in your ear and you nodded.

His fingers stroked your thighs, as you bit your lip trying to contain any sound from coming out.

“Y/N, what do you think we should watch?” Sarah asked, still looking on her phone searching for a movie, John B kissing the side of her head.

“I don't mind.” You whimpered, as Rafe brushed his fingers over your clothed private parts. “I'm okay with everything.”

His hand passed the elastic of your shorts and your panties, cupping your pussy. You shuddered and bit your lips once again, when you felt one of his fingers opening you up.

“You're soaking wet and I have barely touched you.”

“Rafe, it's already hard as it is to stifle my sighs and moans. Don't start with the dirty talk.”

The assault in you continued happening, Rafe pressing a few kisses on the side of your neck too before bringing you to an orgasm. You bit your hand, as you released.

“You okay Y/N/N?” Kiara asked, from the couch. You looked at her and nodded.

“Yeah, I just think I'm having cramps or something. I'll go grab a painkiller.” You said, raising yourself from Rafe's lap, making him adjust in his seat and running to the closest bathroom to clean up and throw some water on your face to cool down. Thankful that no one suspected anything.

It was Thursday when you were talking on the phone Rafe, about your birthday party that was on Saturday when your doorbell rang.

“Hold on, someone's at the door.” You said, walking from the kitchen to the front door, seeing that it's Kiara.

“It's Kie. I'll talk to you later.” You assured him.

“Okay, I love you.” He left a relieved sigh and you smiled, even if he couldn't see you.

“I love you too. Bye.” You hung up, before opening the door. “Hey, Kie. What's up?” You smiled kindly at her, but the look on her face made you wipe it off right away.

“I need to talk to you.” She exclaimed and you opened the door further so she could get in.

“You're scaring me, what's going on?” You asked her, as she sat down on a stool in front of the kitchen island.

“I was going to J’s and when I was going through the Cut, I saw Y/Bf/N's car parked outside of Barry's.” She explained, you furrowed your brows in confusion.

“Barry? The guy who sells weed?” You scoffed.

“Yeah. Well he doesn't sell just weed, you know that right?” She explains but you feel lost. “Coke, Y/N.”

“What?” You were confused. Y/Bf/N has never done anything other than weed.

“He wouldn't-” “ I saw him walking out holding a baggie of a white substance.”

Your face dropped. You couldn't believe your ears.

“What the actual fuck?” You whispered.

“Have you talked with him? I figured he didn't tell you about that.” Kie explained.

“I haven't since last week, no. I have called him multiple times but he has completely ignored me. It's like I don't even exist. And especially after our last talk, all his empty promises about changing. Fuck.” You rambled, Kiara nodding, holding your hand. This conversation making you consider if he was high at the Country Club when he was apologizing or the party where he grabbed you.

“You told him about this Saturday?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah, last week. I don't know if he still remembers though.”

“Try calling him again and if he doesn't answer, don't bother anymore. We all knew he was an asshole, but treating you like this? And on top of it all, he does drugs? This guy is dangerous, Y/N.”

“Thank you for coming all the way here to tell me Kie, I really appreciate it. And I know. I…I'm kind of trying to break things off. I deserve better.” You whispered the last part, making Kie smile and squeeze your upper arm before she got up and left. You immediately grabbed your phone calling Y/Bf/N three times, with no luck of him answering.

You

you better have a good explanation as to why you don't answer my calls or texts for more than a fucking week

i really need to talk to you

it's important

Sent 12:28 pm

On Saturday morning, you had started prepping the house, cleaning up even if it will get absolutely destroyed later and putting up the decorations Sarah bought from Party City. Your phone pinged, signifying a notification and you pulled it from the back pocket of your shorts.

rafey

good morning

happy birthday sweetheart

i love you

do you want me to come over and help?

Seen 10:23 am

You smiled at his texts, quickly replying before Sarah sees you slacking off. And also because she doesn't know about you and Rafe yet.

You

thank you so much rafey

i love you too

no it's okay

your sister is here to help

gtg

Seen 10:26 am

In the evening, you and Sarah had started getting ready. She had helped you with your hair and you were now doing your makeup when your phone rang.

“Oh, it's my brother. Want me to pick it up?” Sarah asked, as you applied your eyeliner.

“No, just leave it.” You answered before she handed it to you.

“Y/N, I'm not stupid. I've seen you and him all these years. How close you always have been.” She confessed. “And I know that something is going on with you two. And I am happy for you two. Truly.”

“You're not upset?” You asked cautiously, putting down the eyeliner and your phone.

“I am more upset that you didn't tell me anything. Of course I am happy for you two. My brother may be an idiot and sometimes a total asshole, but he never has been to you. I just want what's best for you. For either one of you.” You got up and hugged her tightly, as you thanked her profusely.

“I know it's crazy, but he's the one I want, Sar.” You whispered.

“At least now you don't have to sneak into his room while I'm sleeping.” She joked and you looked at her with widened eyes.

“You knew?” You asked and she nodded.

“I was fucking awake dude. And you didn't do a good job at being quiet.” She continued. “In or out of my bedroom.”

“Sar!” You warned.

“Just make sure that I don't get a niece or nephew anytime soon.” She smirked and you grabbed a pillow from your bed and threw it on her. “Shut up!” You screamed, chuckling.

After an hour of getting ready and pre-gaming with Sarah, the guests started coming. Soon the house was filled with Kooks and Pogues, even some tourons.

You in a short purple sequined dress searched around the house for the one person who you were hoping had already arrived. People stopped you to wish you and give you presents and others invited you for drinks but you refused continuing your search for Rafe.

When you entered the kitchen to grab a drink, you saw many familiar faces approaching you.

“Happy birthday Y/N!” Kelce yelled, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around while you giggled.

“Happy birthday!” Topper approached, after Kelce put you down, to hug you.

“Thank you guys!” You spoke with a wide smile on your face as you looked around the kitchen.

“He's on his way! Sarah asked him to pick up more ice.” Topper pulled you closer and talked into your ear.

“W-who?” You asked, still going on with the act.

“We know, Y/N.” He smirked. “We are really happy for you two. Rafe has always had a crush on you. He was non stop talking or making everything about you. It was fucking time you two got together.”

You chuckled and nodded at Topper.

“Thank you, Top.” You whispered, making Topper wink at you. “Anytime.”

“Hello there, my birthday girl!” You felt strong arms wrapping around your waist, like they always did and his chin on your shoulder. You looked on your side and smiled.

“Hey!” You whispered and he leaned in for a kiss which you accepted. You hummed as he tried to deepen it, but you pulled away.

“I brought ice.” He pulled away to show you the bags of ice and you chuckled, pointing where to put them.

“And I brought you this.” He showed you a small black bag in his other hand. “I know you said that I shouldn't get you anything but I couldn't help myself.” You smiled and pecked his lips once more.

“You really didn't have to. But thank you.” You thanked him as he grabbed one of your hands in his.

“Wanna go somewhere quiet? So you can open it?” He asked and you nodded, pulling him with you towards the staircase. You got upstairs and unlocked your bedroom door, getting inside with your lover. When you closed the door, Rafe pinned you against it smirking.

“Don't get any ideas, Cameron!” You warned and Rafe groaned, before leaning in kissing your lips and then your jawline and neck. You pushed him backwards before things could escalate further and pulled him to sit on the bed beside you.

“It's not a big deal. I just hope you like it.” He handed the black bag to you and you smiled, opening it eagerly. You pulled out a black velvet box and an envelope. You opened the box, revealing a beautiful chain with Rafe's initial in diamonds.

“Rafe!” You whimpered, your eyes gathering tears.

“No crying on your birthday, sweetheart!” He warned, quick to wipe a tear that fell down. “You'll ruin your makeup.” He added, making you nod and try to stop the tears.

“I love it!” You said, genuinely.

You then opened the envelope and smiled at the scrawny handwriting.

Y/N,

Happy Birthday my love. I hope that it's a good one. It's the first of so many we have spent together that I get to call you ‘mine’, in some way. I hope you love the necklace. It's a reminder that I really know you, I don't own you (Yes, I did listen to Taylor Swift). I love you. Forever and Always.

-your Rafey

“Rafe! This is so cute! How can I not cry?” You wondered, hugging him tightly. He rubbed your back to try and calm you down.

“Can you help me put it on?” You asked, pulling away from him as he nodded, grabbing the box and removing the necklace carefully. You moved your hair on one side, as he put it on you and did the clasp in the back. You held the letter on your fingers, before leaning in and kissing him once more.

“It's the best gift anyone has gotten me.” Rafe smiled and got up.

“I'm glad. But now there are so many people down there waiting to celebrate with you and even though I feel honored to be up here, we should get downstairs.” He continued. “And because that dress is really distracting and I won't be able to resist if we stay any longer.” You chuckled and got off your bed, walked out of your room with him and locked the door.

Downstairs the party was going in full swing. Some people were dancing in the living room, others playing beer pong in the dining room and others were just drinking and mingling with everyone.

You were dancing with Rafe in the middle of the living room, all eyes on you two. Your fingers entwined and cheeks pink in the twinkling lights. There in your glittering prime as the lights refracted sequin stars off your silhouette.

“I'm gonna go get a drink. Want anything?” Rafe whispered in your ear and you shook your head.

“No, I'm fine. Thanks.” You replied, shaking your hips from side to side, Rafe squeezing your hip. “I'll be right back.” He pressed a kiss on your temple, before unwrapping his arms from around you and walking towards the kitchen.

On his way back, his sister stopped him, pointing at you.

“She's having the time of her life" She smiled. “Don't fucking ruin it.” Sarah warned before she noticed the one person none of you wanted there, entering the house.

“Shit's about to go down.” She nodded her head towards Y/Bf/N walking in the house with Barry and a girl under his arm. Rafe's eyebrows furrowed and his jaw clenched.

“I'll take care of it.” Rafe exclaimed. “Just get Y/N. Keep her away.” Sarah nodded, already walking in your direction.

“Sar!” You yelled over the music, the drinks making you a little tipsy.

“Hey, Y/N/N. Are you having fun?” Sarah asked, smiling at you.

“So much!” You started. “Where's Rafey? Have you seen him?” You asked excitedly, searching around for him. Sarah pulled you closer and hugged you tightly in her chest, trying to make you avoid any sighting of Y/Bf/N.

“I love you so much!” Sarah exclaimed and you smiled wider, looking up at her. “I love you too, Sarbear. You okay?” You asked, worry filling you.

“Yeah, just fi-” “There's a fight going on outside!” A touron yelled, grabbing everyone's attention, including yours.

“What?” You pulled away from Sarah, shocked.

“It's probably drunk tourons fighting. It's no biggie.” Sarah shrugged and you examined her face carefully.

“What? Oh” You realized. “It's Rafe, isn't it?”

“Y/N/N-” “Don't fucking lie to me, Sar.” You warned and she nodded slowly, before you took off running outside on your porch, as well as you could with your high heels. You pushed people to pass and find him. You needed to find him. You caught a glimpse of the back of his head, before you pushed some others ending up locking eyes with Y/Bf/N.

“There she fucking is!” He yelled, making everyone that had surrounded the two guys, look at you. Rafe turned around and came close to you.

“Go inside, sweetheart.” He advised and you shook your head when his hands touched your shoulders. Sarah came up running behind you, pulling you away.

“No, I'm not going anywhere. This is stupid.” You admitted, stepping up in front of Y/Bf/N. Rafe was close behind you, in case something happened.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, looking at him in disgust.

“Come on, baby. It's your birthday, I couldn't miss it.”

His eyes were bloodshot, white powder still on the bottom of his nose. You scoffed and crossed your arms.

“Like you ever cared.” You started. “You came here to what? Win me back? Tell me that you'll change?”

“Y/N, baby, I love you so much. I'm sorry.”

“You don't get to come here and tell me you feel bad. You have said that I'm the love of your life about a fucking million times and you didn't mean it once! You only wanted to show me off in public, whilst all you did was slide into inboxes and slip through bars. You have fucking hurt me time and time again. And like the fool I am, I fucking believed you.” You rambled, everyone looking at you as Rafe yelled at them to leave.

“Y/N, you don't mean any of that. You love me too. Come on now. Fucking behave.” He exclaimed, approaching you.

“I'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning of yours.” You scoffed.

“Was any of it true? Did none of our time together mean anything to you? Are you that heartless? Or did you really think I'm that stupid and I'd let you treat me like shit so you could get your dick wet?” You asked, pushing him.

“Stop it.” He whispered, his jaw clenching.

“Here, everyone! The smallest man who ever lived!” You yelled, making a show for everyone.

“Y/N, I said stop it! Fucking bitch.” He scoffed.

“And you know what? You never measured up in any measurе of a man.” You chuckled, as people around you hollered and laughed.

Y/Bf/N furrowed his eyebrows in anger, launching towards you. Right before your eyes, he was suddenly on the ground, with Rafe on top of him pushing him on the grass.

“Still pussy-whipped Cameron? She's too high up her ass to even notice you.” Y/Bf/N said, while struggling to get up with Rafe's weight holding him down. Rafe turned him around and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt.

“I'll give you about 5 seconds to get the fuck away from here. You'll never bother Y/N again. And if I see you around, I won't hesitate to fucking rip you apart.” He spat on his face, before getting off of him. Y/Bf/N got up and raised his middle finger towards you, before walking away.

“Good riddance asshole!” You yelled.

Rafe sighed, wrapping his arms around your shoulder pulling you into a hug.

“Go back inside folks! The party's back on!” Sarah shouted, making everyone run inside the house.

“You okay?” Rafe whispered in your ear, after ensuring no one could bother you two. You nodded.

“Thanks to you.” You confessed. “If you hadn't been here…I don't even want to think about what he could have done.” Your body shook and Rafe hugged you tighter.

“You're okay.” He kissed the temple of your head. “I'm right here. Always will be.”

You turned your head, grabbing his head and pulling him closer to you, attaching your lips to his.

“Now, let's go celebrate me!” You smiled, walking towards your house, making Rafe chuckle.

Scandal does funny things to pride, but brings lovers closer

A/N: i have been working on this since ttpd came out. i tried my best to add as many taylor references and if you're not a fan of her music, i'm sorry lol. hope you liked this, it's finally yours!!! also huge thank you to @rafeandonlyrafe for proofreading and helping me with her support and love!!!!!

856 notes · View notes

qveerthe0ry · 2 months

Text

Your Ride, Best Trip

Summary: You sleep with your boyfriend Marcus for the first time Word Count: 9,001 Pairing: Marcus Pike x f! afab! reader Rating: 18+ Explicit Warnings: 18+ mdni, first time, vaginal fingering, oral (m! and f! receiving), unprotected PIV, squirting, creampie, dirty talk, so much fluff, so much kissing Betas: @for-a-longlongtime and @perotovar as ALWAYS. Love you homies I'm kissing u both <3 A/N: I have nothing to say for myself this time

Marcus Pike is perfect.

He’s your dream man.

He’s sweet. He brings you flowers just because, and he’s remembered your go-to coffee order, and he never goes to bed without texting you goodnight.

He’s effortlessly kind. He offers to walk your dog for you when you aren’t feeling well enough to get out of bed, and he always does the dishes when you cook for him, and he makes sure his bathroom is stocked with all the personal products you use at your own place.

He’s fucking handsome. His smile is straight and pearly white, and his big brown eyes warm you up, and the way his broad shoulders fill out those suits he wears to work never fails to make you weak in the knees.

He’s so smart, and he’s so funny, and he’s all yours… finally.

See, when he hadn’t so much as kissed you by your third date, you wigged out a bit.

How could you not? He’d been so thoughtful and caring and all you wanted was to feel those pillowy, soft lips against your own.

So you asked him what was up, and he told you.

Divorced. Broken engagement. A whole year of therapy to pinpoint what went wrong, what he could change, and how he could do better, how he could feel better. And then, he said, he found you— like fate— when he wasn’t even looking, when he least expected it.

You had no problem taking it slow. You’re still convinced you’d wait forever for him, as perfect as he is.

After too many little dates to count, he told you he wanted to be your boyfriend, if you’d have him.

You told him you’d love for him to be your boyfriend, of course. You’d be crazy not too.

And then he finally kissed you.

It was slow and hesitant, but it still made your heart race, made your stomach do flips. He cut it off before it could become anything more than chaste, and left your front door with a sheepish goodnight.

You’ve kissed a lot since then. You never really enjoyed kissing that much, before. It always just seemed like a means to and end, a formality before moving on to other things.

But now it’s one of your favorite ways to pass the time with him. Waiting for an Uber to take you downtown, finally getting to his place on Friday after a long work week, cuddling in bed together with an old movie playing.

You haven’t made out with anyone this much since high school. And you enjoy it, you do, but Jesus Christ, he’s been your boyfriend for three weeks now and you need him.

It doesn’t help that he touches you like you’re the last person on earth. His hands are so big and they’re gentle and electric when they find the bit of skin just under the hem of your shirt.

You think it’s going to happen, this time. Friday night takeout has long been abandoned in the living room. You’re in his bed, in his clothes, and his pinky is teasing at the waistband of his sweats that you’re wearing.

His tongue in your mouth is making you dizzy, and there’s no more blood in your brain with all of it rushing between your legs. You whimper, and you arch against him, and you want him so bad but you can’t say it. You’d feel bad, making him rush when he’s made it clear he wants to take things slow.

When his lips leave yours, you open your eyes, and find his pupils obstructing all the deep, dark brown you adore.

You have to squeeze your thighs together for a miniscule amount of relief. He notices. Of course he does. Damn that Quantico training.

“Sweetheart—”

His eyes flicker down to your lips. You’re sure they look obscene, red and slick from nearly an hour of him sucking and nibbling on them.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

You don’t know why you say it, but you are sorry. You feel so bad for wanting him like this, desperate and aching in his bed, over eager.

“Don’t be,” he shakes his head and gives you a reluctant smile, a smile that tells you you’re going to fall asleep extremely sexually frustrated.

But it’s fine. He’s so worth it.

You give him a soft smile back, and lean in to peck his lips. But he pulls away with his brow furrowed.

“What do you want?”

His voice is gentle when he asks. So is his hand on your back, under his shirt you’ve claimed. But it doesn’t stop that fight or flight response from kicking in.

“Nothing! Nothing, Marcus, I’m okay— I’m great. Just wanna cuddle.”

But the creases in his forehead don’t smooth out, and his hand ceases the soothing circles across your spine.

“You’re lying.”

You sigh and close your eyes.

“I’m not lying, I’m just— I don’t want to push you to move too fast.”

You expect him to be angry. But when you open your eyes again, his own have taken on that puppy-like quality you usually love. Right now, it just makes you feel guilty.

“I’ve been lying, too,” Marcus whispers.

It’s your turn to scrunch your face up. Your blood runs cold, waiting for him to elaborate. A million scenarios run through your head at lighting speed— all worse and worse until your breathing picks up and you beg him with your eyes to just get on with it—

“I have a small dick.”

His face is so flushed. He can’t meet your gaze.

He’s staring at the bedsheets between you, and you’re both just silent for a long, awkward moment.

“I mean— the divorce and all that, it’s all true. And I did want to keep from moving too fast. But— the last few weeks I guess I’ve just been… stalling?”

He finally looks up from the threads to gauge your reaction.

“Marcus…”

“I get it, okay? If you wanna go. I know I lied, and you didn’t sign up for—“

“Marcus.”

You watch his shoulders raise and his mouth snap shut, and he looks terrified.

“I don’t want to leave. You didn’t lie. It’s just— you really think that would bother me?”

He lets out a big breath, and the tension in his body eases up a little.

“I don’t know. Most people were… bothered. I guess,” he shrugs.

You cradle his jaw in your hand, let the day-old stubble tickle the pad of your thumb as you think about how to best navigate this conversation.

Because saying ‘I don’t care’ seems too dismissive. But you don’t. You couldn’t possibly care less about what’s in his pants, when everything else about him has made you fall so, so deep already. But you don’t want to make it sound like it’s something you have to even bargain with, like the pros outweigh the cons, like it even is a con. Because it’s not.

“I’m not bothered,” you finally tell him.

He still doesn’t meet your eyes, in fact, he rolls his.

“You don’t have to lie to me. It’s okay, I’ve heard it all. I know I’ve lead you on—”

“Jesus,” you cut him off, “what did— who made you feel this way?”

He finally looks at you. His eyes are wide and he looks vulnerable and hesitant. You swipe away some hair that’s fallen flat across his scrunched forehead.

“Everyone?”

You sigh his name, and you’re tentative when you lean forward to kiss him, softly, when he lets you.

He looks less terrified when you pull back. You try to smile, but this whole interaction has left such a bad taste in your mouth that it feels more like a grimace when your lips turn up.

“That’s— Fucking awful, to be frank. Pardon my French.”

He chuckles, but his gaze falls away from your face again. His sheets are not that interesting to look at.

“Really, Marcus. I mean— maybe if someone’s just looking for a hookup, then I get it. You want something specific, whatever. But why would you ever think you were leading me on?

All you’ve done is be sweet to me, and shown interest in me, and taken care of me. Unless you’re like, secretly an ax murderer, or committing some kind of major tax fraud, you haven’t led me on at all.”

He’s still not looking at you. Why won’t he look at you, and believe you?

“I don’t want to sound dismissive. I understand you’re insecure about it. I’m insecure about some things too. I don’t want to invalidate that. But I need you to know that the last thing I care about is how big your dick is.”

There. He’s looking at you. He looks a little mortified, but he’s finally meeting your gaze.

“Really?”

You scoff.

“Really really.”

A reluctant smile tugs on the corner of his pretty mouth.

“Why?”

“Because— now, don’t go getting a big head about this— you’re perfect. Like, everything about you. You’re sweet and you make me laugh and you’re gorgeous.”

His face flushes, but he lets you continue.

“And I’m in this, with you. I want this to go somewhere. And I think we’re super compatible.”

“Me too,” he whispers.

“Good, so… we’re on the same page then.”

You watch him lick his lips, and his hand that’s been loosely draped over your waist finally starts back up, drawing little circles across the base of your spine.

“And… There’s other reasons,” you mumble, voice low with a hint of mischief.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah… For one, your hands.”

“My hands?”

He emphasizes his question with a squeeze of your hip, and you giggle at the way it tickles, and also with a bit of embarrassment.

“Yeah… They’re uh… big. I look at them a lot. Honestly surprised you haven’t noticed.”

He huffs, lets his big hand travel further up the shirt on your back.

“Your nails are always trimmed, and— your fingers are long and thick. I’ve thought about them a lot.”

He breathes your name, and now you realize you’re the one avoiding eye contact. When you look back, his pupils are all blown out again, and it spurs you on.

“And I love to give head.”

“Jesus.”

“And the bigger it is, the quicker I get tired. I could stay down there all night, if my jaw didn’t get sore.”

“Sweetheart—”

“Really, it’s one of my favorite things, making someone fall apart under my mouth. But I hate gagging and choking my way through it. It’s tedious.”

He says your name again, this time with a warning tone.

You bite your lip to keep anything from tumbling from your mouth unwarranted.

“You’re not lying.”

His eyes dart back and forth across your face, and you shake your head in lieu of opening your mouth again.

“Fuck.”

It’s the first time Marcus has cursed in front of you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and your clit throbs.

“I’ve thought about you so much. Your lips, you have to know, right? How plump and full they are… I think about them at night, when I’m touching myself.”

That’s convincing enough, apparently. Before you can embarrass yourself any further with your confessions, he surges forward to press those plush lips against yours and groans into your mouth.

His hand flattens against your back and pulls, manhandling you closer to him. Your fingers find his silky hair and tangle in the strands, holding on for dear life at this shift between the two of you.

You can’t muster up an ounce of shame. Finally, you have Marcus where you want him, pressed against you. You hike a leg over one of his, getting it between your thighs for even the smallest amount of friction.

You feel him gasp, chest inflating to press even closer against yours. It’s a rush, finally getting this after waiting so long.

Your hands scramble to get under his white t-shirt. His skin is hot, even against your sweaty palms. There’s so much to feel, the slight swell of his stomach, and the muscle of his flank, the soft but firm pecs.

You whine when he pulls away from your lips. He shushes you gently, and you open your eyes to watch his slick lips and his hooded eyes and flushed face disappear briefly, just quick enough to shed his shirt.

Smooth, is the first thing that comes to mind. His tan skin has no hair above his belly button, just the errant freckle here and there. His nipples are peaked, and you reach out to press your thumb against one before your mind catches up to the action, before you realize you’re gawking.

But when your hand stutters against his skin and you look up at him, he’s smirking, amused and turned on. You falter a bit, mouth open while you search for something to say, some sort of excuse as to why you’re devouring him like you’re starved.

He saves you though, with his low, grumbled voice.

“I think about you, too. All the time.”

You dig your nails into his soft skin at his admission, scraping against his chest.

“You know that? You think I haven’t had you a million different ways in my head?”

Your heart stops beating, and you stop breathing, and the heat between your legs only gets heavier and wetter.

“You want me to show you, sweetheart?”

Your heartbeat comes back as a rush in your ears, and you squeeze the meat of his pec as you nod.

He kisses you again, licks at your lips until you suck his tongue into your mouth, and now it’s just filthy. No more pretense, it’s been months of pretense, and neither of you have any more patience.

His fingers seek out your own nipple, a tight bud protruding through cloth, and he rolls it between his fingers gently over the material of his shirt.

“You come over and wear my clothes like this, and you think you don’t drive me crazy?”

The words are grumbled into your mouth, against your cheek, then your jaw and your neck as he seeks out more of you to kiss.

“I don’t wash them when you leave. I wear them and I smell you all day and it makes me feel insane.”

You mewl at his admission. Everything he says now is so fucking raw, now that you’ve broken down his walls. He shushes you again, grabs the hem of his shirt to help you pull it over your head.

He curses when he sees you. It’s the first time. You’ve both been toeing this line of modesty, and maybe you’d be more nervous if you weren’t careening toward the pleasure he’s promised you.

He coaxes you to lie on your back beside him, and his mouth works a slow trail down the side of your neck, nipping and suckling until he finally gets your nipple in his mouth. You arch into it, encouraging him with a hand tangled in his thick hair. You feel his groan reverberating around your rib cage when you scrape your nails back and forth across his scalp. You need him, like nothing you’ve ever craved before.

“Marcus—”

“I know, I know.”

His syrupy voice isn’t as soothing as his lips, though, when he cranes his neck back up to kiss you again. He nips there, a sneaky distraction from the way his fingers trail down to circle your navel, and then even farther, teasing the hem of his sweatpants you’re wearing. His featherlight touch makes you jolt when it finally registers, your stomach jumping under his fingers.

“Can I?”

You’re nodding against his lips, into the kiss, and then whining when his hand breaches the waistband. Those thick, long fingers flutter across your mound. Your breath catches on every wiggle. But when his fingers splay out, half on one side of your slit and half on the other, teasing your lips, you exhale hard and press up into his touch.

“Oh, are you that sensitive?”

His voice is half-teasing, half-shocked, as he mumbles into the tingling skin of your neck.

“It’s just you.”

And it’s true. There’s no ego-stroking here. You’ve waited too long to get this and now you’re fiending, any touch is a relief.

And he’s huffing into that skin under your ear, like you’re playing it up too much, but he bites down on the skin anyway and groans.

“So sweet, huh?”

You make a disgruntled noise but there’s not enough blood in your brain to get your point across. Instead, you wrap your hand around his meaty forearm and force his fingers lower, where you know your underwear is a soaking, sticky mess.

He curses and pulls away from his assault on your neck to look at you. You’re certain you know what he sees, blown out pupils and sweat-slick forehead and bitten, shiny lips.

“That’s all for me?”

There’s a sly smile tugging at one side of his mouth, just barely there, but you see it in the way one dimple grows more than the other. You nod in answer, scrape your nails up the hair on his arm and watch him shudder.

But he retreats from between your legs, and chuckles when you squeeze his forearm tighter in protest. The sound makes you shiver, all low and gruff and teasing. But he softens the blow with another one of his kisses, heated and sloppy and needy. His hands, always so gentle and careful and big, find the creases between your hips and thighs. It makes you arch up into the touch and whimper again, and you wonder briefly if you’ll ever not be desperate for him again.

He watches your face twist up when he pulls away from you, watches the way your breasts move with every heave of your lungs. His dark eyes travel lower, where his thumbs sear circles into your hips, and his tongue swipes across his lower lip.

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?”

The tenderness in his voice fills you with a completely different warmth, white hot flames simmering into a blaze of feelings you aren’t sure you’ve ever truly experienced before. You let it consume you.

“Yes, please.”

He hums a satisfied little noise as his fingers hook under the waistband. He takes his time, making sure to catch your underwear as well. It’s a sight, his huge hands working your only remaining cover down, down, until you’re bare to him and he’s gently cradling each of your calves to fully remove the last of your clothes.

Those hands work their way back up, attentive, memorizing the valleys and peaks of your flesh, the nuances of your skin, the way it bends over your joints. Before you know it, he’s propped himself up beside you once again, one arm supporting his weight so his other hand can work its way between your thighs.

You drag your eyes away from his fingers to look at him, only to find him focused on your face.

It’s a few long moments before either of you move or speak or breathe. It’s you who breaks the spell, only because you know you’re at the very edge of control.

“You sure you’re ready?”

You reach up to cradle his neck in your hand. It’s hot to the touch, and so are his ears, the tips of them burning a cute pink where your thumb grazes them. His eyes get softer and crinkle even more around the edges.

“I’m positive… can’t believe I psyched myself out for so long.”

He huffs and shakes his head at himself. You’re ready to kiss that apprehension away again, but his hand on your thigh pulls, as gentle as everything else he’s done, to spread yourself open for him.

The cool air makes your breath catch in your throat. Or maybe it’s the anticipation. So close to what you’ve thought about every single night for weeks. Months– since the day you first met, if you’re being honest.

He keeps his eyes on you, and you hold his gaze even though it burns. But only until his fingers brush you. Your eyelids flutter shut at the feeling, mouth open wide in shock at how electric just one simple touch feels.

His finger glides so easily around your opening, and you hear him gasp as he explores all the slick.

“You’re soaked.”

His voice is thick with awe, as another finger joins in on the fun, gathering up your arousal. But they don’t breach, and you feel like he’s teasing, readying a whine in protest.

The noise gets stuck in your throat when they trail up, gliding through your swollen folds. They find your clit, full and begging for attention, and circle with hardly any pressure.

Oh, he’s fucking good at this.

There’s no apprehension in his movements. It’s like he’s read a fucking manual on how to press all your buttons. The light, slick touches are building up that heat in your gut quicker than you can ever remember with anyone else.

You’re stunned silent, eyes pinched shut and your head tilted back into the mattress, digging in for even an ounce of grounding.

“That feel good, sweetheart?”

Your vocal chords come back to life, finally, as you whimper from the gentle drag of his fingers.

“You have no idea.”

He chuckles, and you open your eyes to see his own still trained on your face.

“I think I do,” he mumbles.

He shifts, presses his hips into you, and the hard line of him digs into your side.

You clench around nothing, and your clit pulses under the pads of his fingers. He curses and responds to the needy little bud, applying more pressure and speeding up those little circles.

All the while he grinds his hips into you, soft little movements that sync up with his hand, and you want him so bad. You’re losing patience by the second, the only thing keeping you from pouncing is the way his fingers work you over so perfectly it’s like you’re touching yourself.

You’re not, though, and that becomes perfectly clear when one thick, long finger presses lower and slips into you. It slides so easily, despite how much girth it has on one of your own. You both make stuttered noises at the feeling, and Marcus’ lips capture your own to let them mingle together.

Your hips egg him on, lifting and shifting, but he is teasing now. It’s a slow drag in and out, his finger pin straight, and if he hadn’t been so diligent this entire time you’d think he didn’t know what he was doing.

But you whine, a soft plea of his name into his mouth, and he obliges. That thick finger crooks up, just as the heel of his hand flattens against your clit, and stars bloom behind your eyelids.

You groan, and he laps it up before his lips leave yours.

“That’s it. This what you needed?”

A pathetic whimper comes out in response as you nod your head. His finger presses harder into that perfect spot, and his palm slides over your wet clit. You’re clenching around him, savoring the feeling of being filled by him, working your hips down and back to meet his motions. It grows and grows, that feeling in your gut, so close that you can’t be bothered to worry about what needy noises you’re making.

He mutters another frantic curse, and his hips jump to press his cock into you harder.

“I gotta taste you, sweetheart. Can I? Will you let me?”

You nod so fast you’re surprised your head doesn’t detach from your neck. He soothes that frenzied part of your brain with another kiss, slips his finger out of you, and moves to get between your legs.

You thread your fingers through his hair to keep him still, even if it’s just for a moment. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, and the drag of his sweatpants across your sensitive center makes you arch up into him for more, to seek out more friction.

He just huffs a laugh against your lips and angles his hips away, denying you the simple pleasure of grinding against the tent in his pants.

“Not yet. Let me take my time with you. You’ve waited so long, right? I’ll make it up to you, you just gotta let me.”

You huff.

You should’ve known Marcus would be just as much of an infuriating tease in the bedroom as he is outside of it. The trivia dates and the cocky smirk he always sported when he won, the little bets he’d make on how a movie’s plot was going to twist, the refusal to ever let you pay for dinner— it’s all adding up now, and you can’t believe you didn’t expect it.

Marcus Pike is a smug little prick underneath the humble, sheepish grins, and it’s hot and it’s yours.

“Put your money where your mouth is,” you breathe.

He chuckles and trails said mouth down the length of your naked body. You watch his plump lips explore your skin and leave wet patches littered in their wake, shiny little stakes claiming you. His five o’clock shadow is just long enough to abrade your skin a bit, delightful little pricks that make your muscles jump involuntarily.

He makes it to your mound before looking up at you. His brown eyes are mostly obstructed by his pupils, but they shine all glassy in the dim lamplight of his bedroom. His shitty grin has faded and he looks determined, and it steals the breath from your lungs.

He teases some more, of course he does. His lips peck and tickle the creases of your thighs, the skin of your outer lips, and the very tip of your hood before you finally see his pink tongue slip out.

All of a sudden you can’t watch, can only let your head fall back and close your eyes and drown in the anticipation.

The pointed tip of his tongue just barely grazes you, tracing a razor-thin line from your dripping hole all the way to your mound. It tickles, and your breath comes in faster as he does it again, and again, and again.

Just before you can beg for more, he flattens his tongue and drags it up your slit. He laps at your folds, slow and calculated, and the satisfied noises tumble out of you as you feel his taste buds glide against you.

All you can think to do is find his hair and use it to hang on. Your legs spread wider, and he takes the encouragement. His tongue finds your clit, so swollen and sensitive with need by now. He circles it, then wiggles his tongue back and forth, playing with it, playing with you. He shakes his head from side to side to give you more, presses even more firmly, and the heavy feeling in your gut tightens tenfold.

Your hips start to move on their own, rocking up into his face, helping his motions along. He groans with it, muffled and wet between your legs.

A delirious thought gets stuck in your horny brain. You don’t know how you’ll ever let him leave this spot between your legs now that you’ve finally got him here. It’s so wet and warm and incredible, and your nails dig into his scalp to drive the point home, to try and lock him here forever.

His voice snaps you from your reverent thoughts, thick and deep.

“Fuck, sweetheart. You taste so good, looks so fucking pretty.”

You brave a glance down at him, his red soaked mouth and his dark eyes that are boring holes into your pussy. One of his hands releases its grip on your thigh to glide across the dripping mess of your center. He toys with you, spreading you open with splayed fingers, watching the way your folds bend to his whim. With it exposed and protruding and aching for his touch, he leans down to wrap his plush lips around your clit and suckle. Curses fly from your lips at the concentrated attention, and it’s so so so fucking good you’re sure you’re going combust.

His hand slips lower, and his mouth doesn’t stop, and you’re dangerously close to tipping over the edge. And then two thick fingers slip easily into you, immediately seeking out that spot inside you and tapping there.

It’s blinding pressure overwhelming the two places you need him most. He drums up a rhythm that would remind you of a dance, maybe, if your brain were cognitive enough to form a coherent thought. Down with his head, engulfing your clit, and up with his fingers, squeezing that spongy spot inside you. Over and over, he works you with soft grunts against your cunt until your fingers lock up in his hair and your hips start to shake.

“Please don’t stop,” you pant, “I’m so close.”

To his credit, and this is more than you can say for the majority of men you’ve been with, he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t slow down, nor does he speed up. He keeps at you exactly how you need it, moaning strung-out little noises into your center until you’re dropping.

All the wind is knocked out of you. Your hips jolt into his face and he takes it in stride, lapping at your clit when the seal of his lips is broken from your erratic movements. You tremble through it, clench around his fingers, and squeeze his head between your thighs as you ride it out on his tongue.

As the shivers roll through you, Marcus’ fingers slow, and though he can’t remove his tongue from you because of how your legs have him in a headlock, he stills his tongue so you can take the last bit of what you need from him.

His breathing is just as heavy as yours, wheezing out moans and muffled words of encouragement. When you feel yourself slipping down from your peak, you let go of the death grip on his hair, and open your legs, and grant yourself a few deep breaths before you dare to look down at him.

He carefully, cautiously pulls his fingers out of you. A comforting ‘shhh’ is cooed into the sweaty skin of your thigh when you make a strangled sound. Both of his hands splay out on either hip, a light and grounding touch accompanied by the kisses he’s dropping all over the skin he can reach.

Finally, you grant yourself a peek down at him. The first thing you notice is how his broad shoulders are, heaving with baited breath. Then, his normally pristine hair, sticking out every which way and then some from your frantic fingers.

His face is red, you guess from exertion. Or maybe you really did restrict some blood flow. Christ. That’s what he gets, being so goddamn good at that.

And then his lips. His lips. Those lips that up until now you’ve only ever kissed or dreamed of. They’re even more plump, swollen and slick with you, shining just like his chin is.

You don’t know what to say. You know you want to kiss him. Funny, considering that’s how all this started, but you’re dying to see what you taste like on him.

Luckily, he breaks the silence, after licking those delectable lips and clearing his throat.

“So… How’d it compare?”

Your face contorts on its own, surprised at the sudden and intrusive question.

“Pardon?”

But then he laughs, pressing those wet dimples into your heated skin to hide them.

“To all those thoughts you told me about. How’d I do?”

You laugh too then, a weary huff of breath as you sit up.

“Don’t go fishing for compliments,” you tease, though there’s not much heat behind it with how out of breath you still are.

He goes to respond, but you get a hand in his hair again and coax him up. You meet him halfway, swallowing his surprised noise when you finally get those pillowy lips against yours and lick at them, his tongue, his teeth, until you aren’t sure what taste is you and what is him. Until you realize you’re flat on your back again as he hovers over you, still between your thighs.

You both hum when the kiss breaks, and you rest your forehead against his, nuzzle his nose and sigh at the floaty feeling in your limbs.

“Better,” you whisper.

You feel his grin bump into your own. You nip at it, playful and languid as you finally begin to get some of your bearings back.

And then you’re shocked back into the realization that there’s all this smooth skin right in front of you, this hunk of a man hovering above, the one who just melted your brain into a fuzzy little mold of itself. You grab his hips as he licks into your mouth and scrape your nails up his flanks, unhurried, while the touch makes him shiver.

You feel out the strength in his pecs, those broad shoulders you often daydream about, and then you push. Catching him off guard, he gasps as he loses his balance and tumbles to the side, and then laughs when you press him into the mattress and straddle his hips.

You laugh along with him, but it slowly tapers off as his hands find your naked skin— your stomach and hips and back and then your ass, where it hovers just above that bulge in his sweatpants.

He’s looking up at you with what you can only describe as horny apprehension.

His eyelids droop over his dilated pupils, but his brow is all pinched up in the middle. His mouth hangs open, like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out.

So you kiss him, soft and gentle, as gentle as he’s been with you all night. His sigh washes heat across your cheeks, and you feel him relax under you just a little.

But then you shift in his grasp, lower your ass, and press your soaking center to his crotch. You whimper at the feeling of his sweatpants dragging across your sensitive, wet cunt. He moans and bites at your bottom lip maybe a little too hard.

But it’s okay. He pulls away and pants your name and you settle there, your weight pressed down on his cock. Your lips find that smooth patch in his stubble, biting that chiseled jaw, licking down the curve of his neck, his shoulder, up to his ear. You delight in every goosebump you draw, and breathe in his scent before you speak up.

“Will you let me suck it?”

All his breath rushes out in a big gust. His fingertips dig into your naked sides, and he nods.

“Please.”

It’s a barely-there whisper. You pull away from that silky soft skin where his pulse is hammering to check his reaction.

He’s begging with his eyes. It makes you smirk, sitting up straighter, trailing your fingers down the front of his body until you reach the drawstring of his sweatpants.

You’re still sitting on his groin, though. You give a little playful wiggle, and his hips rock up to grind harder. But you don’t want to tease any more. Every moment spent teasing him, you’re also denying yourself, and you’ve been patient for long enough.

So you shift down the bed, nestled between his legs, and get to work on the tie of his pants. Every time your fingertips brush the hair below his belly button, he sucks in a breath. You finally get the thing untied, and look up one last time for permission before you start to drag the material down, grabbing his boxers as you go.

Your eyes stay trained on his face instead of staring at his crotch, especially as he wiggles a bit and lifts his legs to remove his pants. You don’t want to stare, and you also don’t want to not look, you don’t want him to be uncomfortable at all with you.

You want it to be perfect. You want to make him feel the way he makes you feel.

He nods his head, and you cease averting your eyes to trail down his body, the bushy happy trail and the neatly trimmed hair above his cock and his cock.

His little cock.

It is, indeed, on the smaller side. Probably one of the smallest you’ve seen in real life. Three and half or four inches long, if you had to guess.

And it’s so pretty, cut and on the thicker side, the slightest upward curve that makes your pussy tighten around nothing.

You dive right in, press your nose to all the hair while you kiss at the base of him, humming when his cock twitches against the side of your face. He smells so good and clean, like always, but down here there’s even more of that Marcus smell that always lingers beneath his soap and cologne, salty and warm.

When you drag your eyes up to him, his head’s thrown back against the pillows, not looking at you. You want him to look, you want him to see how much you’re going to enjoy this.

You’ll make him look, one way or another.

For now, you just lathe your tongue up the underside of him, then back down to tickle his balls, all the while enjoying how his prick jerks under the attention.

He’s making little noises, mostly puffs of breath and gasps, and his hands twist up in the sheets beside you. You grab one of them, slow and steady, and lead it to the back of your head.

And then, you finally get your lips wrapped around the head of his dick, and you slowly sink down until he’s entirely in your mouth.

It’s not until your nose presses against the flatness above his cock do you hear him release a strangled groan. That’s when you look back up at him and find him staring down, mouth agape, locked on your mouthful of him.

You pull back up, wiggling your tongue as you go, memorizing the ridges and hairs and veins. Your eyes are locked on his, and his are locked on your lips, so you try to give him a show.

You open your mouth and stick out your tongue, nod your head up and down to let his cockhead tickle your tastebuds. A gruff noise leaves him, hearty and hoarse, and you want to smile but you’re not in a position to.

Instead, you flick your tongue against that little band of tissue just under his slit, and his hips stutter as his grip on the back of your head tightens.

“Fuck, sweetheart.”

Now you do smile, your lips upturned against the head of his cock, and it jerks against your mouth while you kiss it, until you envelop it once more.

You hum around him, at the weighted feeling of him occupying your mouth, how smooth it feels against your tongue and how nice it is to take him all the way in and not gag or choke or drool.

It makes your cunt ache, makes you crave him even more, makes you want to be full of him everywhere.

You reach a hand down to touch yourself. You’re still dripping, can feel it all slipping from your entrance and cooling your skin in the air conditioning. You’ve had just enough time to recover from the mess Marcus made of you. You’re sensitive but not too sensitive, when you trace your clit with your fingertips and moan around the mouthful of cock.

“Oh fuck, are you touching yourself?”

Your eyes flicker open and look up to him. He’s clenching his jaw, grinding his teeth as his nostrils flare. You hum and nod your head to answer, his cock slipping back and forth through the ring of your lips. He whimpers, and his head tips back against the mattress again, and it makes you speed up the efforts on both him and yourself.

He curses, soft little chants, kneading the back of your neck in his big hand as you suck him in over and over. You close your eyes and lose yourself in it for a bit, the way he slips so easily in and out, the way his hips move just a little, like he’s trying not to but he can’t help it. The sounds, his grunts and your sloppy mouth and your fingers working over your slick folds.

He says your name.

You hum, use your free hand to play with the fuzzy skin of his balls.

He says your name again, and this time it’s urgent, almost panicked.

“Sweetheart, stop, please.”

You do, immediately. You open your mouth wide and let him fall from your lips and unhand him while you look at his exerted face.

“Are you okay?”

He huffs, and his cock bobs beside your face.

“I’m so okay. I just— did you want me to…? It’s okay if you don’t, I just didn’t want it to be over—”

“Marcus.”

His heated babbling stops as he clamps his mouth shut. His broad shoulders lift and drop with his heading breath.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

You smooth your hands across the scattered hair on his thighs when you ask. His prick twitches again at your question.

“I— Yeah. Yes. I do.”

He looks almost guilty about it, with his wide eyes and the bashful expression spreading across his face.

“I want you to fuck me so bad,” you tell him, “I’ve wanted it for way too long.”

His breath leaves him in a shuddery exhale, something like relief or awe.

“Yeah? You still want it?”

His hand skates from the back of your neck to your jaw, his thumb brushing the apple of your cheek.

“Please, Marcus. Give it to me.”

You turn your head to kiss his thumb, a sloppy little peck before you take it into your mouth. You smile around it when he groans, and bite it before it slips away.

“Can you get on the edge of the bed for me?”

You can, but not without throwing a cheeky ‘yes sir’ his way. You’re not sure if the noise he makes is from arousal or a lack of amusement, but there will be plenty of time to explore that later.

For now, you do as he says. You scoot so your ass is just about to fall off the side of his bed. The wooden bed frame is the perfect height to rest your heels on, and as Marcus slips a pillow under your head, you’re as comfortable as ever.

The mattress dips when he gets up to stand in front of you. The lamplight from the nightstand is really doing things for him. The slight sheen of sweat on his chest glistens, as does the wetness at his temples where his hair is starting to curl up. All those lean muscles have never been more apparent than they are now, the golden glow creating beautiful shadows across his naked body.

He’s so hot.

It doesn’t help that his big, warm hands snake up your bare thighs as he gets between them. His small dick stands at attention, pointing toward the ceiling, and you feel your pussy spasm with anticipation.

“Please,” you whisper.

He nods, steps closer as you spread your legs wider and wiggle even further off the bed.

“Perfect, sweetheart.”

He leans over you with one hand on the bed to brace himself. The other is wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, and he looks down to watch it as he glides it through your slit.

“Are you ready?”

You nod and hum your affirmative. He takes the go-ahead and his cockhead slides across your clit, down, so slowly, until it catches on the rim of your hole and you both gasp at the feeling.

You look down to watch too, lifting up on your elbows to see the moment your pussy lets him sink inside, fluttering around him, engulfing his prick one inch at a time.

You knew it. You fucking knew his cock was perfect but still you’re shocked at the way the curve makes him drag across your upper wall. And when his hips are flush with yours, all that pressure is concentrated at that bundle of nerve endings inside of you, and you’re going to lose your mind if he doesn’t move.

“Oh fuck.”

You let yourself flop back in the bed, but reach for his hand that’s supporting his weight. Your nails scrabble for purchase against the skin of his wrist as you curse again, your walls contracting around him as you tense.

“Fuck, Marcus, please.”

You’re so far past caring about how desperate you sound. You need him, the textbook definition of it; it’s an absolute necessity that he fucks you.

He curses, and you realize you’ve closed your eyes. When you open them, his jaw is hanging and he’s looking at you, your face, like it’s something he’s never seen before. Like he’s shocked you’re here in front of him.

But his hips are still, and you’re helpless to the way your own cant up to urge him, and finally he’s pulling back out. The slow drag against the most tender spot inside you rips a noise from your throat, involuntary. He pulls almost all the way out, until the head of his dick is kissing your opening and you can feel how he stretches the tight ring of muscles.

And then in again, almost as slowly, and you’re already out of breath. The feeling steals all the wind from your lungs. It’s setting you on fire, perfect friction against just the right spot, the one that’s still tender and alight from your previous orgasm.

“It’s so fucking good,” you manage to choke out.

Marcus moans above you, and his hips snap into you, and his free hand finds your waist so he can dig his nails into your flesh.

“It is, fuck, sweetheart, you’re so fucking good.”

A bead of sweat drips from his nose and lands on your belly, and that seems to make you snap out of it.

“Fuck me. Fuck me hard, please, make me come.”

You watch his mouth quirk up into a pretty smirk, dimples on full display.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your giggles only last for a moment, dissolving into a high whine when he slides out of you and back in, a harsh thrust of his hips that doesn’t let up.

He fucks you. You try to watch; it’s too hot not to. His biceps flex respectively, one with his effort to hold himself above you, and the other where he holds you in place by your waist.

His neck, the one vein there that’s protruding as he bares his teeth. The way his chest is rapidly rising and falling as he drives into you. His big brown eyes, even darker now as he succumbs to the feeling of you.

But you just can’t keep your eyes open for long. It feels too good, you’re too close to the edge. Your insides are so tender and alight from the first time you came. Every single thrust inside you is taking you apart and building your second so quickly. Your eyelids droop closed and there’s already stars blooming behind them.

His little noises are louder, like this. Grunts and gasps and moans, falling over you, all for you.

“Fuck, I’m so close,” you warn him.

Your back arches to encourage his pace. His skin slaps into yours faster as he groans.

“Thank god, me too. What do you need, sweetheart?”

Without a verbal answer to his strained question, you slip your hand down to press against your throbbing clit.

“Shit, yeah, play with your pussy for me. I wanna— fuck— let me see you come. Looks so gorgeous.”

His voice is thick in his throat, and you work your fingers over yourself faster. You’re clenching wildly around him, you can’t help it. Every thrust in sets your nerves on fire, almost too much, but not quite. His grunts are turning into growls, uninhibited and primal. You feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to find him standing up straight.

Both hands grab your hips now, and that little angle change makes him grind even harder into your g-spot, and you’re tumbling over the edge. It’s been building under the surface for so long that when it hits, it’s blinding. There’s static in your toes that washes over you, up, up, dragging a fiery heat with it that consumes your center and makes your head fuzzy.

There’s screaming.

You’re screaming. Your eyes are clenched so tight, as are your fingers, all your joints, your pussy, around Marcus as he fucks you through it with sloppy thrusts.

“That’s it, oh my god, sweetheart, you— fuck. I’m gonna come, I’m— where?”

“In me.”

Your throat is scratchy when you answer, and you don’t have any time to elaborate on why that’s not a bad idea. You’re still coming, wave after wave of warmth rolling across your body, and you’re vaguely aware of how wet everything is, the sound of him fucking you even more obscene.

His shout doesn’t quite rival yours, but you feel it when he empties inside of you. His cock jerks and and twitches, wringing out every little bit of pleasure from you, and you think you’re still coming, the pinpricks of pleasure are still too intense to be aftershocks.

He stays pressed as deep as he can be as his stomach convulses and his thighs shake, just like yours do where they’ve somehow wrapped around him. Your eyes open again, and the lamplight is so bright now, his breathing is so loud. He grunts and pulls out a bit, then presses back in, and again, until it falters and his whole body slumps.

His top half collapses onto you, his little breaths huff and tickle the tingling skin of your belly. Your own breath comes out in a weak moan, and it takes all the strength you can muster just to run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

“Jesus,” he says.

Your name cascading off his lips in such a strung out voice that it makes you clench around him again.

“Huh?”

God, how are you ever going to move again?

“You uh… Is that a common occurrence?”

Christ, why is he using such big words?

“What are you talking about?”

He clears his throat.

“You like— You squirted?”

You laugh, one delirious huff. It makes his head rock on your jiggling belly.

“I what?”

You gather the will to look down at him. His mouth is open, surprised and amused, and his eyes are shiny and bright.

“Yeah, like, a lot.”

He’s still inside you but softening, and his own chuckles make him slip out.

You lift up on your elbows as he stands up straight and the evidence is clear. The hair above his dick and high on his thighs is all dark and soaked.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”

The sheets on the edge of the bed are absolutely ruined, and you pray he’s one of those men that has a mattress protector. You’re more than a little mortified, and the way he’s staring at you, silent, is beginning to make you squirmy.

“What?”

“Why do you seem so surprised?”

His fingertips are feather-light across your thighs, and you shiver.

“I’ve never actually… done that? I would have warned you.”

He makes a pained sound, and those fingertips turn into a tight grip just above your knees.

He doesn’t speak up. Instead, he lies on the bed beside you. He holds himself by his elbow, but that hand strokes your scalp while the other traces up and down your thigh, your hips, your breasts, anything he can reach. You avoid the topic at hand to relax into it, and you think you’re finally coming down as that boneless feeling washes over you.

You’re vaguely aware of his cum dripping out of you, but the sheets are a lost cause anyway. You just watch his lax face, the way the wrinkles in his brow are all smoothed out, the way his eyes follow the patterns he’s drawing on your body.

He catches you staring. His gaze meets yours and he smiles and it’s sunny. It warms you through, despite all the sweat that’s cooling on your body.

“Hi,” he whispers.

You giggle, and he does too. He tries to hold it in by biting his lip, but it’s no use. You will your exhausted bones to shift and face him, and he presses his lips to yours and they meld together.

It’s languid, unhurried, just reacquainting after too long apart. It feels a little goofy, with how you’re both smiling so wide, but it calms you into settling down after such a high.

Both of your breathing seems even, when you part.

“That was—”

“It’s never—”

You both chuckle.

“Ladies first.”

You feel shy now. You can’t imagine why, but a fluttery feeling overtakes your stomach.

“I was just gonna say… That was better than all those times I imagined it.”

You didn’t think it was possible, but his smile grows even wider. His eyes flicker from yours to the sheets between you, and you think maybe he feels as bashful as you do.

“It’s never been that good.”

A sigh escapes him when he speaks, and his nervous gaze lands on you when his face falls into something more earnest.

It takes your breath away. Because it’s never been that good for you either, and isn’t that such a perfect coincidence?

You tug him to you by the back of his neck, eat up the surprised little sound he makes against your mouth.

“When can we go again?”

#Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal x reader #Pedro pascal smut #Pedro pascal fanfiction #Pedro pascal characters #x reader #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #marcus pike smut #the mentalist

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lovebugism · 11 months

Note

can i request something with a reader who’s just really into steve’s scoops ahoy uniform?

hi, my love! thanks so much for your request!! what better way to celebrate july 4th (aka stranger things 3 day) than by commemorating steve harrington in his scoops ahoy uniform? tw for smut mdni!! (2.1k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

When Steve told you he got a job slinging ice cream at the mall downtown, you didn’t think much of it.

In fact, you spent the better part of that conversation comforting him. It was an existential crisis of sorts, wherein he’d spun himself into a panic about not going to college, not being successful, and not providing for you in the way that partners are supposed to.

You figured it was a bruise to the ego more than anything — especially with his asshole father constantly looming over his shoulder. A steady reminder of what he could’ve been in ways more daunting than just one.

But then he showed you the Scoops Ahoy mandated uniform, held it in his hands with all the boyish reluctance of a child. According to him, the bright blue sailor’s outfit was the most dehumanizing thing of it all. It even came with its own stupid hat.

You were so turned on by the idea of him wearing it, you forgot you were supposed to be consoling him. You quickly forgot why the job was ever a bad idea in the first place. Steve, albeit a bit confused by your sudden giddiness, was more excited to go into work the following Monday when he knew you were visiting him the first chance you got.

You’re practically skipping when you walk into Scoops, skirt swishing around your thighs. It was later in the morning, which meant business was relatively slow. There’s an older couple sharing a sundae at one of the booths, but other than that, you’re the only customer in the store.

Steve stands at the register with a smile on his face he doesn’t know is there. He’s been a real grouch all morning, but he’s forgotten why at the sight of you.

You beam at him, propping your elbows on the counter and putting your chin in your hands. “Do the line,” you gush.

His chest inflates with a deep breath in, then deflates with a sharp exhale. You don’t even notice that it’s a sigh of annoyance at first, too focused on the scarlet tie around his shoulders and the tufts of chest hair peeking out from the top of it.

“Ahoy, sweetheart,” he greets, still grinning despite his lack of enthusiasm. He tilts his head to his shoulder and recites his line: “‘Welcome to Scoops Ahoy. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me today? I’ll be your captain’— How was that?”

“Even better in uniform,” you marvel in a lilt. Then you squint at him. “I better be the only customer you’re using that sweetheart line on, though, Harrington.”

Steve scoffs like the thought of saying it to anyone else is appalling. “I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in the world I’ve ever called sweetheart, sweetheart.”

“Good. I plan on it staying that way.”

The boy smiles to himself.

He likes when you get all possessive. Maybe because he spent the majority of his past relationships having to be the jealous one — always worried about never being good enough, being left. He likes how confident he is in the fact that you only have eyes for him. Even if he is wearing a stupid sailor’s uniform.

“What do you what, huh?” the boy asks as he pulls out his metal scoop from the apron tied around his hips. “Choco-mint with chocolate sprinkles?”

He’s already spooning the green ice cream onto a cone for you before you say a word. You like that you never have to tell him what you want, that he knows you like the back of his hand already.

“Ooh. He looks good in a sailor’s outfit, and he’s attentive?” you singsong lowly. “I think you might be a keeper, Steve Harrington.”

The boy rolls his eyes as he turns away from you. He walks to the opposite wall, where several containers of variously colored sprinkles sit in a large tub. When he bends over to smother your cone in the chocolate kind, the white hem of his shorts climbs up his thighs. You almost forget to breathe.

Steve turns around to catch you staring. You don’t even blink.

“Stop ogling at me,” he laughs with pink cheeks. “It’s getting weird, babe.”

Your brows pinch. “Why is it weird to look at my boyfriend?”

“Because your boyfriend looks like an idiot. Like, this should not be turning you on, sweetheart.”

“The heart wants what it wants, Stevie,” you shrug with a whimsical sigh.

He meets your smirk with a half-hearted scowl and passes you the ice cream cone. When your tongue darts out to taste it, his brain malfunctions for a moment. “Seriously, babe,” he scoffs when his senses return to him. “What about any of this is attractive to you?”

Your head tilts as you scan his muscular form, looking far more boyish than usual in his flamboyant uniform. “Well, for starters, those ankle socks are strangely sexy—”

Steve snorts at the offbeat start to your list.

“—And your thighs look delectable in those shorts. Your arms do, too. You’ve been working out so much, they barely fit in those sleeves,” you compliment. The corner of your mouth quirks into a half-smile as your eyes flit up to his hair. “Also, something about the hat and ascot combo is really doing it for me.”

Robin comes out of the break room then. The door swishes back and forth. “You could’ve just said everything and be done with it,” she grouses as she clumsily sits her white cap on her head.

She looks about as grumpy as Steve, like something about the linoleum tile and fluorescent lighting is sucking the lives out of the two of them.

“Don’t worry. You look hot too, Buckley,” you promise with a smirk.

Her head tilts sweetly to the side as she musters a grin of her own. “Thank you.”

You turn back to Steve with an expectant gaze. “When do you go on break again?”

He twists his wrist to check his watch as you take another lick of your ice cream cone.

Robin answers for him. “Now, preferably.”

“What?” the boy asks with furrowed brows. “I still have, like, fifteen minutes left.”

“Just go fuck and get it over with,” she groans, ocean-blue eyes wide and pleading. “I can practically smell the sexual tension radiating off both of you.”

Steve wants to argue, but you only smile. You nod your head towards the exit. “C’mon, sailor.”

He has no choice but to follow behind you. He’s been doing it for years now, and you haven’t disappointed him once. You lead him by his hand through the bustling mall, chucking your half-eaten cone into the bin when you reach the entrance.

Steve isn’t surprised when you wind up at his car in the employee parking section. He swirls with a boyish excitement, anyway.

Everything feels so new with you.

Even the things he’s done a thousand times.

Including, but not limited to, fucking you in the backseat of his car.

You’re on him the second you shut the door behind you. Your skirt bunches at your hips as you straddle his thighs, kissing him with the intent to swallow him whole.

Steve’s hands are limp at his sides in shock. It leaves you doing most of the work yourself, pulling down his blue shorts and gray underwear in one fell swoop. You tuck the hem of them beneath his heavy balls and half-hard cock.

His head falls back against the seat when you start fisting him completely stiff.

You twist your wrist in the way you know he likes — squeezing him towards the top before falling to the stem of his cock again. Your thumb swipes over his bulbous head to collect the pearly pre-come beading there.

If you had enough room in the backseat of his Beamer, you might’ve forgone the sex entirely and just taken him into your mouth right then.

Steve’s rosy mouth falls agape to billow pretty little moans for you. You tug on the red tie around his neck to get his attention again. His glazed-over, honey eyes flutter open to find your smirking face.

“Can I take a ride on your ocean of flavor, Stevie?” you tease with a mischievous glint in your eye.

“It’s ‘set sail,’ but yeah— shit,” he swears when your thumb grazes his leaking tip again. “Of course, you can, sweetheart…”

With his consent, you grip the bottom of his cock, pushing your panties to the side to line him with your pulsating entrance. He might’ve asked if you wanted a little preparation first, but when his silky head grazes your satin walls, he knows you’re more than wet.

Your pussy’s already drooling all over him, and he isn’t even inside you yet.

The both of you exhale low moans when you finally slip him within you. Your walls are warm and wet — the softest velvet imaginable, and perfectly snug around his achingly hard cock. You keep your fingers wrapped around the tie on his chest, using it for leverage as you grind your hips back and forth over his thighs.

Steve goes pussy drunk almost instantly, babbling like crazy at the feeling of your cunt sucking him further and further inside of you.

“Oh, my fucking god, baby,” he moans, the words sounding stiff as they spill from his tightening throat. “You feel so good. So tight, too— Shit. Pussy’s drooling all over me, sweetheart.”

He can’t see you from this angle — can’t see the way your dripping cunt takes him so well or the way your ass glides perfectly over his heavy balls. But he can picture it, can feel your slick drenching his pubic hair and happy trail.

He so desperately wishes it were possible to fuck you with his cock and have you ride his face at the same time. His mouth waters at the thought of tasting you.

But this is good for now.

This is perfect.

With the energy he’s got left from his drifting senses, he grips the plush of your ass. He spreads your flesh apart, and the feeling of his fingers digging into your skin makes you clench around him. He almost loses it, then — when the smacking of your thighs and the wet squelch of your drenched pussy fills the small car, going slowly cloudy with your entwining heavy breaths.

“You’re so hot, Stevie,” you manage through labored pants. Your heavy-lidded gaze threatens to close, but you don’t want to stop looking at the boy below you. You want to commit all his features to memory — his pink kiss-bitten mouth, reddened cheeks, and honeyed eyes. You want the image of his fucked-out features to stain your mind forever.

“God, babe,” he sighs breathlessly, a moan mixed with a soft laugh. “I still don’t— I really don’t get it, sweetheart.”

“Are you seriously complaining?” you smirk as you glide your hips over his thighs again.

Your swollen clit catches the polyester of the bottom of his shirt. You swear your eyes cross as your mouth opens in a low keen.

When your pussy clenches at the ethereal feeling, his cock jerk within your tightening velvet. Both of you are nearing your orgasms full throttle now. You can almost taste the sweet vanilla of your climax.

“No. Fuck no, I’m not complaining,” he assures with a shake of his head. “You’re just really fucking confusing and really fucking hot... Fuck—”

His head falls back again, exposing the golden tendons of his neck. You’d bite at them if you could stop looking at him. You smile even though he’s not looking at you — even though your thighs are burning and your knee is digging into the seat belt latch. “I can’t wait to fuck you when you get off.”

“Yeah?” he hums, eyes still halfway closed.

“Yeah,” you repeat with a nod, still rocking against his lap while his cock rubs relentlessly at the deepest parts of you. Your clit catches his shirt with every pass of your hips, sending a white-hot feeling of nearly unbearable pleasure shooting up your spine. “So I can get a real good look at you while you fuck me in this uniform.”

Steve squeezes his eyes shut as his jaw clenches. He tries not to come at the sound of your voice and how the words spill like honey from your mouth.

Despite the less-than-ideal location — at the edges of a mostly empty lot — he doesn’t want this to be over quite yet. He wants to feel you gush on his cock over and over and over again. He’s afraid he won’t be able to focus on work until you do.

If he knew that slinging ice cream for three dollars an hour in a stupid sailor’s outfit would drive you this crazy, he would’ve dropped out of school and put in an application forever ago.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #bug's summer fic fest!

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amirasainz · 2 months

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Hi loves, if you want more drivers and wags drabbles, don't be shy to request something!

I hope you'll like this one. I will also add a masterlist soon! Please send some requests(can be only driver, drivers and wags or Sainz family), I need some inspiration!

(Wish me luck, I am writing a physics exam tomorrow)

-XoXo

Chaos before her arrival

Chaos. Everywhere at the grid was chaos. People are running left and right. Mercedes mechanics carrying flower bouquets in their garage. McLaren bringing an extra princess like sofa in theirs. Ferrari has three personal chefs at the motorhome.

One might think the royal family is coming to the grand prix. But one wouldn't be so wrong. In fact, Amira Sainz, the paddock princess and littlest sister of Carlos Sainz, was attending her first GP after the winter break.

With staying in Colombia for filming the 3rd season of Narcos, babygirl didn't have a lot of time to attend her big brothers GPs.

On one hand, Carlos was thankful that his baby sister wasn't surrounded by the drivers and their crazy girlfriends.

I mean, can you believe the audacity from Lily and Alex to go shopping with his baby sister because:" Baby, you look so warm, let's get you some shorter clothes to cool you off"(Alex) and "Baby, I saw this really cute handbag for 30k and it reminded me of you. Let's go get it!We can be all matchy-matchy" (Lily)

Or George and Carmen with their "Sweetheart you have to come to London with us. We can have our own tea party the mansion from Downtown Abby and wear our Tommy Hilfiger clothes and...."

Or Pierre and Kika and their "good hearted" invitation to Portugal because, apparently, babygirl is looking too pale. So she has to spend the whole winter break in a villa with only one bedroom (ups) and a private beach with them. Obviously!

But the worst of them all were Charles and Alex. Carlos can't even think about it. The last time his sister came to visit the grid, Charles had the audacity to give her a sparkling pink La Ferrari. And if that wasn't enough, he and Alexandra had to drive her around the city (let's be honest, our girl can't drive. But that's OK, cause she is pretty) with her sitting in Alex lap to "get the full driving experience cherie"

So, as you can see, Carlos wasn't very happy to have his sister attending a GP with these demons around her. His poor angel, nearly getting eaten alive by those monsters (is he dramatic? Yes. Does Carlos care? Absolutely not!)

But Carlos heart, mind and soul hurt the whole time she was in Colombia. What do mean his darling sister isn't by his side or by their family. She's just a baby! What if someone robbed her? Or her car gets stuck? Or worse, she has to go buy things with her OWN money?!

No, Carlos couldn't live with that thought either. So either way, their wasn't really a good solution to his problem.

When he saw all the teams acting crazy, decorating their garages, how his sister likes them and cleaning EVERYTHING, his blood was boiling. His baby, darling sister is staying in HIS team garage, on HIS half. (I'm looking at you, Charles and Alexandra)

However, the last straw for him was when he saw all the wags waiting by the entrance for Amira. They stood at the entrance like hinters waiting for their prey.

Oh Carlos could feel the grey hairs growing

And Amira? During the whole fiasco, babygirl was in the spa getting ready for her exhausting day. Looking pretty the whole time and watching the race IS pretty exhausting. Our poor babygirl🥺

@stinkyjax @khaylin27 @xoscar03

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milfjuulpod · 2 months

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Taken For A Ride

Downtown celebrating and socializing with your Abbott friends, Melissa seems to be more affectionate towards you than usual, and enjoying every second of it.

warnings: consumption of alcohol, smut, 18+

A/N: hey pookies long time no see, after taking a long break from writing i finally finished something i enjoyed. i hope u all enjoy reading it as much as i did writing it :)

After the stressful few days that was the smoking fiasco, it was needless to say everyone at Abbott Elementary was relieved when Janine was able to help out the troubled student, even if that meant it included the “no smoking” sign somehow being attached to the brick wall. Mr. Johnson never failed to amaze the rest of the crew.

“You know what would be an ironic way to congratulate Janine and celebrate today working out? Going out for drinks and dancing downtown this Friday,” Jacob pitched to the usual suspects on their way out the door for the afternoon.

“Please, you’ll come up with any reason to get us all out and do something. You’re almost as bad as Janine.” Ava retorted. “But…I do know of some PR event happening that night, I could get us all in after a few shots.”

Unsure of your own decision on Jacob’s idea, you just listened to a few of your friends go back and forth between places to go, before settling on somewhat of a decent plan for the weekend. Looking between faces, a pair of jade eyes met yours. Melissa was already looking at you, realizing that caused a light pink spread across your cheeks. Luckily everyone else was busy caught up in the details of it all. Shifting your eyes away from hers, you walked closer to Ava.

“I’ll be at both this event Ava speaks of and whatever bar you all decide beforehand, but I gotta run. Text me the details?” You asked, picking up your pace once you were met with agreement from everyone.

Truthfully, you didn’t have anywhere special to be, but here in the car was better than being a flustered mess in front of the redhead. Melissa had clearly taken a liking towards you. At first it was innocent, her walls slowly coming down in an effort of friendship. Slowly but surely, her favoritism towards you became more and more clear. She always made sure you were close to her when the two of you were in the same room, she would let her touches linger while she watched your face for any sort of reaction. If you didn’t know any better, you’d assume it wasn’t just curiosity, Melissa liked getting such a reaction from you.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts before beginning the drive home. The evening was filled with mundane tasks, grading, cleaning, planning, nothing too out of the ordinary. The rest of the week was similar, mundane, but easy. That was, until Friday. Shortly after you had gotten home from work and started getting ready to meet everyone out, you got a call from Melissa. “Hey you,” came from your end as soon as you picked up.

“Hey sweetheart, can you do me a favor?” Melissa asked over the speaker. You couldn’t see, but you knew she was twirling the end of her hair and lowering her voice on purpose, she always did when she wanted something.

“What is it now, Schemmenti?” You teased her.

“I need you to get ready as quickly as you can and come to my house.” She answered rather quickly.

“And why is that?”

“Because…I don’t know what to wear,” She admitted.

You couldn’t contain the laugh as soon as you heard her answer. She couldn’t be serious, right? “Mel, why do you need me to come all the way to your house for an opinion on an outfit? Can’t you just tell me what you’re wearing or send me pictures? Or, oh! Just FaceTime me.”

“C’mon hon, it can’t possibly take you long to get ready, you look incredible without even trying. Plus, we can carpool. Save the planet.”

You knew it wouldn’t take long for her to convince you. “Fine, I’ll text you when I’m on my way.”

After a few songs and quick outfit adjustments, you were out the door and on your way to Melissa’s. As far as you knew, the clubs Ava tended to go to were more on the luxurious side, so you hoped your bodycon skirt and baby tee were cute enough to get past security. The drive was nice, but not long enough for your nerves to calm down. You had only been to Melissa’s house a few times, you wondered what exactly you had gotten yourself into just as you pulled into the driveway and went up to her front door.

“Hey, did you at least pick out a couple options? Or am I going in completely blind?” You asked, taking a step into her house. Melissa didn’t answer you, though. Instead she quietly shut the door behind you two and very obviously looked you up and down. “This…This what you’re wearin’?” She asked before giving you a once over (again).

“I was going to, why? Do I not look good?” You began looking at yourself in the mirror in the hallway of her home, trying to fix any imperfections you could have missed. So focused on fixing yourself up, you missed Melissa sneaking up and getting in your space. That is until you could see her dark eyes in the mirror, her lips so close to your ear as she said, “No baby, you look good. Follow me,” She said, and walked away like she didn’t just turn you into the darkest shade of red.

Upstairs in her room, she motioned for you to sit on the bed while she went into her bathroom. You took a short amount of time to compose yourself and take in your surroundings. It wasn’t messy, but it was lived in, well loved. It was very Melissa, and you wouldn’t expect anything less of the woman. When she emerged, you realized she had color coordinated the two of you. Her white top underneath her jacket matched yours, and her black leather pants matched your skirt.

“Looks okay?” She asked, fluffing up her hair in the mirror once more before walking over to you. The redhead seemed to sway her hips more as she came closer, drawing more attention to the pants that hugged her tightly.

“Y-Yeah Mel, you look good.” You took the opportunity to stand back up and change the subject. “Are you ready to go? Who’s driving?”

Melissa gathered the rest of her things and motioned for you to continue ahead of her. “Barb is coming to pick us up, figured we could plan the rest out later since both our cars are at mine anyways,” she said, closing her door and following you down the stairs. You hadn’t considered that at the end of the night, you would be coming back to Melissa’s. Interesting.

The ride to the restaurant was nice, a bit of time to catch up for the work wives before meeting everyone else. You, on the other hand, zoned out for most of the ride. It wasn’t until Melissa turned around that you came back to life. “Hon, you in there?” Both her and Barbara were now looking at you, Barbara just stopping the car.

“Yeah, sorry. Just taking some me time before giving all my energy to the kids,” You replied, earning a scoff from both Melissa and Barbara.

“Those ‘kids’ are the same age as you sweetheart,” Barbara said, turning off the car and getting ready to go in.

“Doesn’t mean they don’t tire me out just like actual kids do,” You said, and shut the door behind you. You joined the two older women in stride, Melissa sneaking her hand on your lower back as you three entered the restaurant. It was easy to find your group of friends, all gathered at the high top closest to the bar. “So glad to see you could all make it!” Jacob enthusiastically said as you all sat down. “I have to say Jacob, I’m not mad at the place, so far.” Melissa teased her friend across the table. She reached for a menu in front of her, and turned to you. “Have you been here before?” She asked.

“I have, actually. It’s nice, the bar food is surprisingly decent and the bartenders know what they’re doing, which is a nice change of pace,” You answered honestly. The redhead laughed at your response, but it was clear she was genuinely listening to what you had to say.

After a few minutes, everyone had ordered a few appetizers and the first round of drinks, courtesy of Ava. “What? Yall think I don’t have principal money?” She laughed. “But you better make this first round worth it, all of yall. Drink up people!” The first round was quick to arrive, and the second round was close behind. “I’ll get this one, just in case I get too drunk and forget to pay for drinks later,” You said, half to your server and half to your friends.

Melissa’s hand snaked its way onto your thigh, squeezing it gently. “Don’t get too drunk now, I don’t want you puking in my bed later,” She said quietly to you. You laughed off her teasing, but couldn’t ignore her lingering touch on your thigh. The combination of the alcohol and Melissa’s touch made warmth spread throughout your entire body.

She didn’t stop there either. It seemed with each sip she took of her own drink, she was letting go of those walls and showing you more and more affection. As much as you loved the attention, it was driving you crazy. Every time she laughed she would lean into you, followed by meeting your eyes to see if you were laughing as hard as her. Whenever the redhead had a snarky comment to make, she would nuzzle into your hair and whisper it into your ear. Those times were the hardest to get through.

Luckily after the third round, everyone decided to change locations. Barbara was the only one who stopped after her first drink, leaving that version of Barbara for another time—someone had to wrangle in the kids.

“Alright everyone, whoever is coming to Ava’s club needs to follow me to my car, I’ll be dropping you hooligans off.” She laughed, but everyone knew she cared and would never hesitate to give any one of you a ride. Ava, Janine, Jacob, Melissa, and yourself followed Barbara’s trail in the parking lot. Gregory, despite many pleads from everyone, decided to head home. Something about getting up early for the perfect gardening weather, your memory was foggy since Melissa was drawing patterns on your back at the time.

“Wait, we have one too many…Someone has to sit lap. Couldn’t be me though, I get shotgun since I’m giving Barb the directions,” Ava told the group and quickly took her spot in the front.

“You’ll be fine, right hon? Besides, I’m a good seatbelt,” Melissa said to you, walking with you to the car and taking her spot without leaving you much choice. You took your seat, and silently prayed the club wasn’t too far away. As soon as Barbara started driving, Melissa had her hands on you. One splayed across your stomach and the other wrapped around your thigh. Luckily Ava was already in party mode and took over the music on the drive, leaving no room for conversation. If you tried talking, you fear it would be full of stutters and gasps.

Once everyone got comfortable in the car, Melissa took advantage of the position the two of you were in. She lowered her hand a bit on your stomach and tightened her grip on your thigh. You could feel her nails through your skirt and you attempted to close your legs more to get her to ease up, but of course it didn’t work. You felt her lips against the shell of your ear for a split second before you heard her voice.

“Stop squirming so much baby, or I’ll really have to hold you down.”

Although the music was loud, you knew Melissa was close enough to hear the whine that escaped you. And if she didn’t, she certainly felt your body’s reaction to her. Just a minute later you were thanking your lucky stars as Barbara pulled up to the club and lowered the music. You knew you were blushing, way too warm, just an absolute mess thanks to the woman underneath you.

“Alright kiddos, have fun and be safe! Everyone please get home safely, and make good decisions!” Barbara said her goodbye, and everyone thanked her as they made their exit. Ava led the way to the bouncer, and though you took the opportunity in the cold air to calm down, Melissa stayed close by. Even when Jacob started talking about the famous drinks they had here, she pretended to listen all while keeping her beautiful green eyes focused on you. She was driving you insane.

As soon as Ava got everyone to their VIP spot and drink orders were placed, you took off to the bathroom. Cold water and alone time was exactly what you needed. You stood in front of the bathroom mirror obsessively looking yourself over, worried that the whole club would somehow be able to tell Melissa had you wrapped around her finger and was tugging on the string like a play toy. Focused on the cool water on your hands as you began to turn on the sink, you missed the sound of the door opening.

“Everything okay, hon? You left pretty quickly. Don’t tell me Jacob’s list of ingredients scared you from the drink you ordered,” Melissa’s voice was heard from behind you. Quickly you turned off the faucet and faced her, your body betraying your mind in an instant. “Please, not much could scare me off from a drink at a place with a bar like this one,” you joked. She took a few steps closer, inching you against the back of the counter.

“Then what’s going on, amore?” She asked, but there was a tone in her voice you couldn’t pinpoint. The nickname didn’t help your state either, it never did. “N-Nothing Mel, everything’s okay.” You would’ve walked away at this point if you didn’t feel cornered by such a beautiful woman.

As if a switch flipped in her, Melissa put her hands by your sides on the counter and pressed herself against you gently. “Don’t lie to me, I could sit here all night,” she said lowly.

“Melissa…” was all you were able to get out. She pushed herself against you harder, her breasts flush with yours at this point. “I’ll ask you one more time. What’s going on?”

“I…You’ve been teasing me all night,” You felt Melissa put her hands over yours on the counter and squeeze them gently. “Mmm, I haven’t been that mean, have I? I figured most of my attitude tonight was directed towards Janine, not you dolcezza mia,” She tightened her grip on your hands with her last two words. If she wasn’t making your body feel on fire, you would’ve rolled your eyes just then.

“You know that’s not what I mean Melissa,” You said sharply, growing tired of this game with her. “Oh, this teasing then?” She asked, and a second later had her thigh pressed against your core, bodies closer than they ever have been. You groaned at the feeling and had to fight every urge to not grind against her in that moment. All you could do was nod, which drove Melissa crazy. You didn’t know it yet, but she loved teasing you until you couldn’t take it anymore, making you beg and plead for what you want.

“Aww, you poor thing, let me help you then.” Melissa slowly began rubbing her thigh back and forth against you, and captured your lips in hers to keep you quiet. She let go of your hands and let you touch her, and you wasted no time pulling her closer. The older woman moaned at how tightly and desperately you pulled at her. She broke apart the kiss to continue her way down your jaw and throat, and you felt her use her leg to open yours even more.

“Melissa…S-Someone could walk in,” you said between gasps. “No they won’t, I locked the door behind me,” She stopped kissing you for a moment to smile up at you, and you realized Melissa had planned this, and you went right along with it. In your moment of distraction, Melissa had pulled your skirt up, and it wasn’t until you felt her nails on your thighs again you realized it. “God, Melissa, you’ve been teasing me all night…please,” You muttered.

“Please what, my love?” You rolled your eyes at her response, to which Melissa dug her nails harder into your skin.

“Please touch me, fuck me, I need to feel you. I need you.” At your words Melissa brought her lips back up to yours, ever so slightly brushing them together. “Good girl.”

Melissa tugged your underwear to the side and slowly drew a finger up and down your center. The bathroom was filled with your moans and Melissa’s gentle shushes and kisses across your body. She didn’t hesitate giving you exactly what you wanted, the feeling of her fingers inside you bringing you closer and closer to the edge every passing second. Her lips felt so soft as they left red and purple marks along your neck, her perfume surrounded you entirely, all you could feel was her. Opening your eyes, you looked at her. Her red hair falling across the two of you, the way her pants looked so good on her tonight, her fingers pumping in and out of you.

“Baby I’m s-so close…please Melissa,” You moaned. She kissed her way back up, stopped right by your ear again and said, “Let go sweetheart, let it all go for me.” After a few more touches, you rode your orgasm out against Melissa, overstimulated from the senses. She let you catch your breath, every once in a while planting a gentle kiss somewhere she left a mark earlier. Once you opened your eyes and met her green ones again, she spoke up. “Hi beautiful.”

“Hi,” you giggled out. You felt higher than ever, post alcohol and orgasm. Melissa took your hands again and helped you stand up straight, adjusting your skirt in the process. It was sweet seeing her like this, so caring without having to say a word. You pulled her back up to you, kissing her again. This time it was less rushed, and you hoped she could feel your admiration and gratefulness in it all.

“I guess we should go back out there before our drinks get watered down,” Melissa said once the two of you finally pulled apart. “Yeah, I guess. But only if you let me hear what your moans sound like when we get home,” You replied.

Melissa giggled and led the two of you to the door, “Deal.”

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #reader fic #wlw fic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fic #abbott elementary fics #lisa ann walter

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qlossytbh · 2 months

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𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐧

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 working with the BAU team has always been challenging— but your suddenly disrupted by a case that hits close to home and you don’t know how to react when your past starts clawing at you.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 drinking, usual criminal minds content, mentions of dead bodies, mentions of murder, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of anxiety

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 3.7k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 AHHH so the series has begun. this is based on this lovely request. i’m trying my hardest for things with the UnSub and the case to be as coherent as possible while the storyline progresses, so it’s very important to pay attention to names and your past ;)

𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

"And that is your third drink of the night—" You reached over to Garcia's drink, ripping it from her lips as she tried puckering onto the straw before you could steal her of the drink she had rightfully purchased. Protests flowed out of her as you brought her drink to your own lips, taking a deep sip of the fruity alcoholic beverage, savoring the light flavors in your mouth. "At least share."

"Anyone tell you how boring you can be sometimes?" She slumped herself across the table complaining profusely at your antics.

"All the time actually," You shrugged. "And I'm not boring, I just don’t condone alcoholism."

"Says the one whos about to singlehandly down my drink," She rolled her eyes at the sound of your straw reaching the bottom of the glass with a slurp. You looked at the glass and shrugged your shoulders innocently.

"Oops,"

The whole BAU had finally decided to host another one of these team bonding activity's, and the vast majorty had agreed on hitting a bar that was near the downtown area, Morgan having been the main enthusiast at picking where the bonding would take place.

You thought it'd be fun honestly. It was unusual to see the group in an ambience that wasn't so full of anxiety and tension all the time. Of course, a joke or two would slip around the office, mainly through the jet rides but it was hard to lay back all the time when you were constantly chasing sadists and murderers around.

It had also been a while since you had gotten somewhat dressed up. A simple black squareneck bodysuit and some leather pants wasnt your biggest definition of getting dressed up, but you knew today was casual, so you didnt want to go completely out. You chose to instead settle for a outfit that'd allow you to blend in and some soft curls in your hair.

Everyone was in their own little comfortable bubble, which really allowed you to understand your co-workers and friends better. You watched how JJ and Emily chatted along a few other men on the further side of the bar, laughing at their antics and desperation when it came to obviously impress them. It was funny even from this side of the bar how badly the men were oggling them shamelessly.

Just as you were about to look for Derek, you felt someone clash between you and Garcia. "Well how are the two of the smokiest looking woman in this bar doin'?"

"I was just looking for you," You jabbed him with your elbow as he wrapped his arm around you. "Should've known you'd come crawling to look for us."

"By us, I hope you mean just me." Garcia butted in. Derek scoffed and allowed his arm to leave your shoulder and instead wrap both of his around the blonde that sat next to you on the bar stool.

"Pfft, you kidding?" He scoffed. "Don't' get me wrong, those pants look great on you sweetheart, but Garcia here's my one and only."

You let out a laugh at Morgans comment. He was a flirt, a natural one, it'd been just like this since you first arrived at the BAU all those years back. You however, were inmune to his charm, and he'd always been a brotherly figure to you. The two of you teased the other and often got into small discussions that were similar to that of a sibling dynamic. Nevertheless, you cared a lot for him.

"I'm going to take that as a compliment," You eyed Morgan, sipping through the straw of the recently emptied drink. He pinched your cheek as a familiar laugh left his mouth while you slapped his hand away.

Your eyes scanned the rest of the bar, allowing your shoulders to slouch ever so slightly. You swirled the small cubes of ice around in the glass, looking at them intently before Derek whistled low accompanied by a deep chuckle. "Looks like Boy genius is hitting jackpot over there."

Your eyes turned to where Derek was gesturing and you saw Spencer sitting at a small table with three other woman practically perched on his arms. You watched as his arms enthusiastically flew over the place. Garcia pitched in. "Well thats a first,"

You chuckled to yourself, not failing to notice how his mouth was moving at an unreadable pace, which probably meant he had already went into what you'd like to tease him as 'wikipedia mode'. His brows were furrowed and his lips were pursed as they moved inaudibly, the same way they always did when he rambled on about something.

"Look at my man go," Morgan cheered.

"He looks constipated.." Garcia squinted her eyes, noticing his nervous and tense posture as one woman grazed his forearm.

You and Spencer had gotten really close over the past few years. He was the first person you immediately hit it off with when you first arrived to the BAU a little over a year later than he had. It initially started when the two of you were unintentionally being paired in many cases together.

However, Hotch and at the time Gideon realized that putting both of your minds together was a power weapon in disguise— Both you and spencer were incredibly smart but very different. Spencer was very good with statistics and information, and you were good with reading people in great depth, which is why the two of you made such an outstanding team.

By being together all the time, you slowly started to get more comfortable around eachother and soon enough the two of you became inseperable. Wether it was getting coffee with eachother in the morning, or staying over later in the office to read over some unsolved cases, you and Spencer were attached at the hip as months went on. It had taken a while to crack his shell open, but slowly, you'd manadge for him to loosen up.

"Looks like that's my cue," You said standing up and dusting of your pants. Morgan and Garcia shared a look while you sighed heavily, watching how Spencer entirely short circuited when one of the girls reached up to tuck a loose strand of his hair behind his ear.

You knew Spencer had a thing with his personal space, but also having a heart of gold prevented him from having the guts to push these woman off. You could tell that he didn't desire their company or attention.

You rounded the bar and made your way to the table where Spencer desperately needed saving. Once you walked closer to them, the woman in the middle looked up with an unamused gaze and then Spencer's intimidated eyes met yours. You clicked your tongue, gesturing your chin to the side and insinuating them to take a hint.

"Sorry to interrupt ladies," You smiled tightly, crossing your arms. "I need to steal your boy candy for a bit."

"We're busy.." One of them said, smiling at you wickidly and she placed her hand on Spencer's shoulder. You groaned internally because your intentions weren't territorially driven and these woman felt some inescessary need to fight you for Spencers attention.

"I wasn't asking." You responded sharply, given them one final smile. Under the intensity of your gaze, the three woman finally cowered and got to their feet, walking away while tossing their hair back at you and spitting hateful glances towards you. You followed their trail with your eyes before looking back at Spencer and narrowing your eyes at him.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," He clasped his hands together, blabbering as you walked over and plopped into the seat next to him.

"Why is it that you always end up in these situations?" You looked over at him. "You have got to stop attracting the bitches.." You rested your elbow on the chair and tilted your chin towards him.

"They came and I didn't really know how to—" He started but cut himself off with a groan, slumping deeper in his chair and dragging his hands across his face. He peered at you through his fingers and you chuckled at him, looking down and shaking your head to yourself.

Spencer quickly noticed how your hair was lightly curled towards its ends and the makeup on your face was giving you a soft glowy hue. His eyes scanned your lightly tinted cheeks and eyelids, along with the long dark wisp of your eyelashes that deepened your gaze, not entirely used to seeing you like this. You finally looked up at him, and eyed him.

"What?" You laughed, shoving his arm lightly. He looked down and smiled to himself. When he looked back up at you, he opened his mouth, wanting to tell you all about the statistics of makeup and its history and evolution along the years to ease his nerves, but Derek's voice cut through the comfortable chattering the two of you were sitting in.

When you looked up at him, you saw JJ, Emily and Garcia standing alongside him, all having the same familiar expression on their face. Derek motioned towards his phone and you nodded your head understandingly. You knew that Rossi and Hotch had probably called everyone in due to a new case. You looked over at Spencer, sighing heavily. "Duty calls,"

Spencer stood up from his seat and grabbed your hand, helping you up from your own and letting his chest heave with disappointment. "Are we ever going to get a day off?"

You looked up at him and patted his chest. "Now that is a stupid question for someone as smart as you, Dr. Reid."

The whole team scattered into the conference room as Rossi held his phone to his ear and chatted stoically to someone, pacing back and forth the white board. You scanned Rossi's posture and the few pictures that were peeping out of a file and your brows furrowed.

"What do you think happened now?" You voiced, turning to Spencer, who scanned the room just as intently as you had beside you, hands deep in his pocket. Morgan, JJ and Parentiss had already fallen into their seats waiting for Rossi to hang up with whoever it is he was talking to. Spencer looked down at you and tightened his lips, shrugging slightly.

You hugged yourself as an unsettling feeling sat in the pools of your gut. There was something that happened to you often where you couldn't really voice a feeling into coherent words, but something about a situation seemed oddly off in your gut. The familiar feeling was currently bubbling inside of you and it evidently manifested onto your expression. You felt a hand on your shoulder accompanied by a light squeeze.

"You okay?" Spencer asked, furrowing his brows in concern. You quickly waved him off, smiling at him and taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah, just got a bad feeling,"

As Rossi hung up, you and Spencer made your way to your chairs. Spencer absentmindedly pulled yours out, allowing you to sit before him. You mumbled a quick 'thanks' before sitting down comfortably and turning your attention to Rossi with Spencer not far beside you.

"Sorry to interrupt team bonding but," Rossi shoved his phone into his pocket. "We've got trouble."

Rossi lifted the projector remote, turning on its contents and revealing a series of gruesome pictures. The photos showed what looked to be a couple, brutally slaughtered with blood splattered across the walls.

"Easton Green, 27 and Michael Green, 28, brutally slaughtered last night in their home here in Virginia," Rossi said scrolling through a few pictures of the couples body limply displayed across what looked like a bathroom. "Both victims received more than 20 stab wounds and both had their ring fingers severed. Due to autopsy reports, Easton had water in her lungs and Michael showed signs of sexual assault."

Your heart stopped in the back of your throat as Rossi read off the names of the victims, following with ID pictures of the two familiar faces you hadn't seen in a long period of time.

"A week ago, an almost identical murder took place." He punched the buttons on the small control, revealing a stomach churning picture. "Sarah Johnson, 28 and Adam Johnson, 28. The couple presented the same stab wounds and severed fingers, but no signs of sexual assault and no water in either of their lungs."

Your eyebrows were furrowed deeply as your mouth hung open, just slightly. You never thought you'd hear those names again, much less the way you had just right now.

"Both murders happened in their own houses and signs of forced entry are present." Rossi said.

"How do we know that these murders are connected?" JJ asked, scribbling mindlessly into her journal.

"We were able to make with the little evidence they've presented so far was that both couples had been recently married," Hotch pipped in. "The stab wounds are also identically the same, along with the way the bodies were left."

"So, wait, we have someone hunting around recently married couples?" Derek asked, brows furrowed tightly in curiosity.

"In a way that would explain why the ring fingers were severed..." Spencer quipped, scrolling through his files. You glanced over at him, watching the familiar furrow in his brow. He looked up. "Recently married couples wear their wedding bands on their ring fingers after the ceremony takes place. They're exchanged during the wedding ceremony and symbolize the couple's union and commitment to each other,"

"And with the severed fingers are probably the wedding bands," Derek blew out.

"If only the ring fingers are being cut off than maybe our UnSub probably has a personal vendetta with marriage in itself and is most definitely acting out of rage," Parentiss quipped in as well, crossing her arms over her chest. You looked from person to person as they all added in their analysis and group review, but you felt as if you couldn't keep up. Your brain had stopped working the second Easton and Michael had been named.

"We'd have to figure out how the UnSub is connected to the victims to be able to confirm that, and by that we'd have to connect the victims," Hotch uncapped a marker and turned to the board.

"Actually," You finally said. "All these victims went to North Virginia High School, the private school over by the upper east side of town."

The room fell silent as everyone's head turned to you. You froze momentarily, sinking into your seat while swallowing the bundle of embarrassment that seeped into you as the spotlight suddenly found your way. You signaled to the files "I, uhm— I used to go to school with these people."

"All four of them were in my class, I was actually friends with Easton. Sort of—" You shook your head. "—I haven't talked to her for years until well..."

You looked over at the board and cringed internally.

"So were they together since high school?" Derek asked you, turning in his seat towards you. You pursed your lips in thought.

”Sort of," You flipped a page over onto it's back and pointed your finger to one of the lines. "Easton and Michael starting dating a year or two after graduation, but Sarah and Adam had been dating since sophomore year of college."

Your frown deepened, suddenly memories of your past flooding your head quicker than you anticipated. And quicker than you were prepared for. You rubbed your temple and laid back in your chair.

"Whoever the UnSub is could be connected to the class or school," You stated, deciding to fall silent until further notice. Hotch nodded in your direction, eyeing you suspiciously before Rossi began laying out a few more details of the case to which you couldn't completely pay attention to. Your hands fell into a nervous pattern of picking at the skin that sat comfortably on the side of your nails.

Spencer reached out from the side, placing one of his hands over both of your to prevent you from continuing your anxious habit. When you looked over at him, his gaze remained on Rossi and Hotch, eyebrows slightly furrowed yet expression completely relaxed as if he had not a single thought flowing around in his head.

God knows you needed a bit of that. You glared at him but with a huff of surrender, you slouched further into your chair, allowing your fingers to dance along with Spencers underneath the table and away from anyone else's view.

After about thirty minutes of placing down a starters plan to the case and more unnecessary stuff that you weren’t all too interested in paying attention to, everyone in the team was dismissed. You snapped out of your trance, suddenly realizing that everyone was standing up and getting ready to leave.

"You in there?" Spencer called out from beside you as he shoved his paperwork into his familiar satchel. You hummed offering him a quick, forced smile.

"Yeah," You threw your bag over your shoulder. Spencer stopped you with a firm hand as you attempted leaving the room. He gave you a knowing look, clearly not even impressed by your poor attempt at running away from his worried gaze.

"I’m fine Spence," You said, tilting your head slightly to the side. "I’ll tell you about it in the car,"

When you and Spencer first started to get along, both of you had realized that your lived not far from the other. A fifteen, maybe twenty minute car ride from the others place at most. When Spencer found out you usually took the train to get home, he insisted on dropping you off every evening after work. At first, it was a bit awkward, due to the fact that none of you knew anything about the other, opting for plugging your AUX cord into your phone and playing music to distract yourself from the silence. But now, things were different and things were everything but uncomfortable

"Y/N," Hotchs voice cut through the air thickly. "A minute?”

Your head snapped over to Hotch. You tensed, looking back over Spencer to which he tightened his lips, giving you a look full of sympathy. You assured him with a nod in the direction of the door. "I’ll catch up with you,"

With a final nod, Spencer left the room, closing the door behind you. You tensed your fingers at your side and swiftly patted the sides of your pants. You suddenly felt intimidated by Hotchs presence. It made you incredibly panicky not knowing why he called you to stay behind. Hotch had always been someone you found hard reading.

"Whats up?" You asked walking up to him and gripping at the strand of your bag.

"Are you okay?" You furrowed your eyebrows, jerking back slightly. Now that was definitely not what you had expected.

"What..?" You asked, profusely confused as to where his question was coming form. He continued, organizing the files that were left on the meeting table.

"I asked if you were okay," He paused turning towards you. "If you’re going to be in conditions to work this case—“

You invoulintarily let out a laugh, to which you clamped shut in embarrassment at Hotchs unnamused glare. “Sorry..”

You shifted on your toes and sighed heavily. You understood that this sudden revelation may make people think this could effect your performance in the case. I mean, these were people you spent all four years of high school with and to any logical human being, in a sense, it would be emotionally impacting if ex-classmates were being executed one by one.

But Hotch knew very little about your past. No one did. So with a firm nod you looked over at Hotch. "I am perfectly capable of working on this case Hotch."

“I didn’t doubt your capability,” He stared at you intently. “I asked if you were okay to work on the case,”

You stopped, watching him slowly try to weave his way into the truth of what these people actually meant to you. But you quickly shot him a smile, blocking him out and preventing him from seeing what was going on in the inside of your head.

“Yes, I am.” His eyes scanned yours, and with a simple sigh he shook his head and finally dismissed you from the room.

The case did not effect you in the slightest, and you weren’t lying about that. It was just very shocking finding out that someone who used to be your best friend was slaughtered to death. But you knew that nothing— no even the people who used to go to school with you were going to put a halt to your job, much less when you love doing said job so much.

You said your final goodbye to Hotch and walked over to the door, exiting it carefully. When you turned your back to the closed door, you found Spencer sitting against one of the desks. You crossed your arms and glared at him.

"You should’ve gone home," You said. He pursed his lip, cocking his brows with amusement laced in his features. "I could’ve taken the train.”

You turned on your heels and allowed him to follow beside you. Spencer let out a laugh, throwing his head back. You beamed at his smile.

"That’s funny," He said, looking down at you as both of you made your way to the elevator. "Did you know that transit riders, especially women, are often victims of a wide range of offenses of a sexual nature that happen on, as well as at bus stops and train stations."

You looked up at him with an unamused look, knowing he was doing this just to prove a point. He opted to continue. "Verbal harassment is the most common form of harassment, with 41% experiencing "obscene/harassing language" and 26% being subjected to sexual comments. Among non-verbal types of harassment, 22% had been stalked and 18% had been victims of—“

"Okay fine!" You exhasperated. "I wouldn’t have taken the train anyways, I have my personal choufer with me."

You patted his arm with a smile on your face as you rolled your eyes at his triumphal grin. Once the elevator door opened you pursed your lips. "Can I at least pay those 25 dollars of gas?"

He looked forward as the elevator door closed, scoffing. "Not a chance.”

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