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#I'm only half joking that I would pay for it
staenless · 2 days
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Steddie lunchbox fic I joked about but then people liked it so now I'm. I'm write it now.
"Hey, Munson!"
Eddie ducked his head down before the blow could hit. Tommy Hagan was one of those men who never outgrew his highschool jock phase, and seemed intent on dragging the rest of the world into his football role playing; not so gentle head smacking included.
He blow never came, instead the heavy metal thunk of a lunchbox landed on his desk. He chanced an eye open, and took in the neat black tin box, no two boxed which stacked perfectly and were secured in place with a patterned cloth. He opened the other eye and instead looked to Tommy, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"the missus packed it up for me," the younger man explained, his eyes off to the side where some co-workers were gathering to make lunch plans, "real pain if I'm honest, how about you take it off my hands for me?" Then he grinned down at Eddie and clapped his should, too hard, like they were regular old office pals.
It wasn't like they were office enemies, per se, but Eddie had a distaste of Tommy and while the feeling certainly seemed mutual they were srupid enough to let petty distaste interfere with their pay checks. Eddie would certainly never do Tommy any sort of favour if it wasn't by obligation to his working contract, and Tommy had certainly phrased this as if it was a favor so... So Eddie instinct screamed to rebuff him.
Except it was lunch time, and Eddie was hungry, and he hadn't packed his own lunch because his fridge had probably three things in it max and he couldn't afford to go out to eat since most of his paycheck had already been dolled out to rent, his uncle, his savings, and he only had money for absolute necessities. Even as he sat in indecision he could feel his stomach writhing and slithering in on itself. Shit, had he forgotten breakfast to?
"Sure," he responded, and then quickly tacked on,"man." There was a moment of silence that made Eddie feel like he ought to crack a joke, but Tommy seemed to decide for them both that was a bit chummy, even for his sports team larping. Instead he landed a solid whack, right where the last one had landed, then spun around and jogged to catch up with the other Alphas on their way out to lunch.
The office had emptied out in the span of their conversation and now cubicles sat still with their roller chains sprawled haphazardly as if evacuated in some emergency instead of a quick shuffle in hopes of skipping the worst of the lunchtime queues. Eddie decided to forgo the company cafeteria and instead snatched a pack of cigs out his backpack and scooped up the packed lunch. He could eat on the roof, since the fire doors alarm hadn't worked since he was hired and nobody bothered going up there in the heat of the day.
It wasn't that Eddie was exceptionally antisocial at work, or loathed ALL his coworkers. He actually had a few friends, Jeff and Gareth in the IT department would tolerate him during lunch breaks, and they'd even met up a few times outside of work. They were cool, he liked spending time with them, might even call them friends in a month or two. But spending all morning on the top floors, in marketing and branding and surrounded by other Alphas, Eddie probably wasn't much fun to be around at the moment.
The corporate world and Alphas went together like honey and ants. The opportunities to compete and peacock were nigh endless, not to mention doing well wouldn't net you a hefty income for some extra peacocking on the side. Eddie wasn't like that, his Alpha didn't operate that way. So much so even he had been surprised when his second puberty hit and he dropped fang and knot. The kids at school had snickered and called him a half-bit Alpha, while others said he only presented that way because his sole guardian was a lone omega. It had hurt at the time, but looking back Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Maybe he was a half-bit, maybe he presented wrong because of some base instinct to protect his uncle. He certainly didn't prance around like the other alphas did, bickering and shoving like little kids fighting over a toy.
But maybe that was the joke Tommy was playing on him, Eddie thought as he popped the lunchbox and saw the note sat neatly to the side. Maybe Eddie was too much of a bitch-Alpha to get a mate, while Tommy with all his flouncing and team player make belive had someone waiting at home, making him lunches and writing sweet love notes signed with a kiss. Maybe the joke was to give Eddie a taste of something he could never have.
Goodluck with work today, please bring home some avacados for guac. Love you - Steve.
Eddie stared at the note in his trembling hand. He could smell the omega- Steve - from where his lips had pressed to the paper. Unmated. Surprising, but not unusual. Plenty of couples got married first, then sealed the bite later on. Some Yuppie thing that Eddie was far too romantic to entertain. If you loved someone, wouldn't you want that commitment forever? But the again, Tommy and his sneer around the word "missus" gave Eddie the impression he wasnt the "forever" sort. Further more, a male Omega? Most people were somewhat hesitant to be associated with one, if not outright hostile to their very existence. Far too rare to be ordinary, and far too Omega to be respected male Omegas were almost never on an up and coming Alphas radar of potential mates.
Eddie slipped the note into his pants pocket, and lit his cigarette before turning back to the lunch box. Black oval tins, two stacked and tied with a floral cloth. A bento, he realised, he'd seen it on the cover of house and home in the checkout line. The hot new craze in lunchboxes. Tha made him snicker a little. The floral cloth seemed odd, and stuck out against the black metal. The material was smooth and soft, like brand new. Huh. The tins themselves had some scuff marks, and one had a dent on its edge that spoke of a life of use. He set them down, side by side, on the laid out cloth. It looked fancy, but also surprisingly homey and inviting. It looked delicious.
The Omega- Steve had outdone himself. The top tin contained two halves of a prego roll stuffed to bursting with marinated shredded chicken. The meat was cradled between lettuce leaves to keep the bread from going soggy, and Eddie could catch sight of some glistening tomatoe slices in there. The second tone had an orange, peeled with each slice individual cleaned of any white hairy bits and laid on a bed of some gummy fruit candy. Apple sliced were laid in a separate tin, still shinning with lemon juice and not a spot of brown to be seen. Slid neatly into the side, half hidden, has the familiar pink white of coconut ice for desert.
Eddie could feel his mouth watering. Holy shit, did Tommy eat like this everyday? And if he did what was wrong with him that he'd give it up for some second rate slop at a restaurant? Breathing deeply he could smell the food, but beneath that something else, something tempting. Steve, his hands delicately pulling the chicken from the bone, slicing the tomatoe, cradling the bread as he buttered it, his nails catching and pulling off every white part from the orange slices. His hard work, his effort, laid before Eddie like some sort of worshipful offing. He felt high when he bit down on the orange slice, the caress of it's soft inner skin along his gums, like a kiss. The burst of flavour on his tongue, sweetness invading his sense so all he could see was orange orange orange leaving the bitter taste of citrus. He could taste, most importantly, beneath it all. God he could taste Steve. He could taste his love.
"Oh, thanks man," Tommy didn't look up from his computer as he said it, just kept tying away. "No problem man," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fixed on the lunchbox and he's straightened it on the other alphas desk. Every crumb had been kicked up, every smear of sauce sucked away. But placed gently, reverently, back in the top box was the love note. Eddie wanted to give Steve something in return, to thank him for sharing something so magical, so special with him. In the end he'd decided against it, could work up the courage to indirectly challenge Tommy like that. Instead, he'd pressed his lips tightly to where Steve's had once been, before returning it to its rightful owner.
The words Love You sat nestled in the tin as Eddie walked away.
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lecsainz · 3 months
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A headcanon of Percy Jackson x reader daughter of Zeus, where he has been in love since the first day he saw her, and he had also recently arrived at the camp, please
˒ ⌕ SHE IS LIKE THUNDER
parings: percy jackson x zeus!reader
an:I know I disappeared, forgive me 🤧, but picture me writing this at 3 AM, dying of sleepiness after watching the last episode of PJO, AND ANNIE USED THE NICKNAME 😭 THIS EPISODE IS STILL TOO MUCH FOR ME TO PROCESS!!!!
summary: the one where you're a daughter of zeus, exploring your relationship with percy.
( my last work || my last work for riodanverse || go to main masterlist )
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You and Percy crossed paths during one of your training sessions. Luke was giving Percy a tour of the camp, and when Percy laid eyes on you, he halted abruptly, as if struck by lightning. For some inexplicable reason, he felt an urgent need to know who you were, as if the gods themselves demanded it.
Percy's eyes widened as he observed you from across the training grounds. "Who's that?" he asked, pointing a finger in your direction. Luke suppressed a chuckle, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Her? Oh, that's Y/N, daughter of Zeus." Percy squinted, trying to decipher your actions, as you accidentally summoned a small lightning bolt that fizzled out near your feet. His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Does that happen often?" Luke grinned. "Only when she's particularly excited, which, by the way, is most of the time. You should see her during thunderstorms!" Percy blinked, watching as you waved sheepishly, causing another faint spark to crackle in the air.
You and Percy found common ground in venting about the gods upon his arrival.
"Hey, little thunder, how's it going?" Percy grinned. "Don't call me that," you replied, trying to keep a straight face. "I'm good too, thanks for asking, Lightning Rod," Percy joked, emphasizing his newfound nickname for you.
Attempts at using your powers together proved futile, as water and electricity didn't exactly make for a harmonious combination.
According to Percy, Cabin 3 was way too big for just him, and assuming you felt the same way about Cabin 1, he started a tradition. At 12:00, he'd show up at your cabin, asking to share it, turning into a routine of hosting pajama parties in each other's cabins.
After you discovered that your half-sister, Thalia, had been turned into a pine tree to save her, Percy couldn't resist teasing you about it.
"Do you think your dad would turn you into, what, a fountain? Or maybe a cherry blossom tree would suit you?" Percy grinned, enjoying the opportunity to rib you. "Jackson, shut up," you retorted, rolling your eyes at his antics. Later, when Grover and Annabeth intervened, trying to keep you two from frying each other, Percy couldn't resist a parting shot. He had soaked you with water from a nearby forest stream during the mission, leaving you drenched and fueling your desire to electrocute him. "Next time you want to electrocute Percy, make sure I'm not around," Annabeth teased as they separated you, noticing your soaked state. Grover, being the peacekeeper, started singing the song of friendship, encouraging both of you to hug it out and apologize. Percy, however, observed that you were shivering from the cold as you walked. Realizing this, he handed you his jacket, concerned. "You'll catch a cold if you stay wet like this," he said, offering you warmth amidst the chilly aftermath of your water-based altercation.
Since neither you nor Percy admit to having feelings for each other, you find yourselves in constant teasing and banter.
During a mission, you two start a squabble because you want to lead everything, and he just wants to do his thing or isn't paying attention to what you're saying. Grover and Annabeth exchange glances, seeking a way to mediate.
It takes a long time before you muster the courage to admit you have feelings for the son of Poseidon. You decide to confess first because, knowing Percy, it would take ages if you waited for him.
"Percy, I need to talk in case we don't get out of here." "Spark Plug, we're getting out of here; trust me." "I like you, Seaweed Brain." He stands there in shock, mouth hanging open, unable to believe that you like him back.
After Percy managed to confess that he also liked you, you enjoyed teasing him about his stunned reaction. But deep down, you were terrified that he might have said he didn't like you back.
Percy becomes incredibly protective of you.
"Touch her, and you'll be dead."
You love stormy days and spend hours on the beach with Percy because he can control the water, ensuring you both stay dry.
"Isn't it beautiful?" "What, little storm?" You pause, gazing out at the tumultuous sea, the waves crashing against the shore. "It's like the ocean is in harmony with this storm. It's as if they understand each other, finding peace in the chaos." "Maybe," Percy finally responds, a soft smile playing on his lips. "Maybe storms and the sea have a way of finding peace in chaos because they understand that even in the wildest moments, there's a certain kind of order."
You appreciate the profound simplicity of his words, and in that moment, he wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder. For the first time in a long while, you feel at home
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astonmartinii · 6 months
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kiss it better | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x first responder!reader when oscar crashes into the barrier at monza, he thinks he sees his guardian angel, in reality he's just got a concussion and that's a first responder, but it's the thought that counts.
f1
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liked by arthurleclerc, liamlawson and 1,206,700 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
f1: woah. huge shunt for oscar piastri in turn three. the australian was pulled out of the car by first responders and is getting treatment. red flag for now.
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user1: omg like my breath was completely gone, i hope oscar is okay
user2: holy shit that's the worst crash i've ever seen i'm so glad they aren't replaying it
user3: i tuned in late and i knew as soon as they didn't replay it it had to be bad
user4: thank the lord for the first responders, they were so fast i hope oscar is good
user5: i'm gonna need netflix to take the backseat on this one i can't take the dramatic editing this is already stressful enough
user6: the grosjean crash was bad enough, i can't deal with it with oscar
user7: are there any updates yet?
user8: not yet.
user9: i'm sat in the grandstand right where this was and it was literally so scary, the first responders literally had to jump on the car
user10: so so lucky that they were stationed so close to where he crashed
oscarpiastri
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 1,309,761 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: first of all i'd like to thank everyone for their support and well wishes, i really appreciate it. it's actually thanks to y/n and the rest of the first responders that i'm back on my feet as fast as i am. big thank you to y/n for sacrificing her ability to shower comfortably to help me out of the car and avoid the flames, i am eternally grateful and mama piastri would like you over for dinner to thank you.
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user9: i'm so so happy he's okay, that crash was so scary
landonorris: glad to hear you're okay mate !
oscarpiastri: you can't get rid of me that easily norris
landonorris: woah, no joking about dying when you've only been discharged for 24 hours
oscarpiastri: sorry, skipped over that one in my contract
danielricciardo: make sure you always read that mclaren contract carefully
user11: thank you y/n for your service
user12: for real she put her leg on the line for oscar she needs a raise
yourusername: it was my pleasure to do my job and help you out oscar. and i'll always take up an offer for a mum's dinner
oscarpiastri: she'll be very happy to hear that
yourusername: text me the details and i'll be there
user13: it's so crazy to me how f1 drivers just get up and walk out of crashes like that
user14: no for real how is the medic more injured than him 😭
logansargent: you are so lucky there were no cameras when you were on painkillers cause you were talking some shit
oscarpiastri: please don't remind me
logansargent: just because there weren't cameras in the room doesn't mean i didn't record you, i look forward to my birthday present this year
oscarpiastri: you wouldn't
logansargent: you wanna bet?
user15: so like how bad do we think what oscar said was?
user16: and how much do we need to pay logan to release it?
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mclaren
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liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 609,778 others
tagged: landonorris, oscarpiastri & yourusername
mclaren: after her heroics in the first half of the season, y/n finally took oscar up and is a guest of mclaren this weekend. as a medic, y/n is one of the most important aspects of a race weekend, and it's an honour to host her!
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user17: did oscar write this caption? that man was BLUSHING in the fan questions video
user18: awwww mama piastri is also there this weekend and in a load of the pictures in the paddock they stuck together
oscarpiastri: so happy to see you again y/n !!
yourusername: my pleasure, oscar. racing is a lot more fun from the garage
oscarpiastri: i'll try my best not to crash this time, i know my favourite medic isn't on duty
yourusername: oh wow what a title, i'll wear it with pride
user19: they're such dorks i love them so much
landonorris: can someone get me some popcorn, i'm enjoying watching oscar squirm and blush all weekend
oscarpiastri: i am NOT !!
landonorris: don't worry i'm sure y/n finds it cute
oscarpiastri: can you please STOP !!
yourusername: not to prove lando right but it is very cute
user20: lando is taking his big brother role a bit too far
alexalbon: you were right @logansargent this is fun to watch
logansargent: oh just you wait until you find out the stuff he was saying in hospital
oscarpiastri: please stop telling people
alexalbon: from what i heard she was right there @yourusername what did he say logan is being a good friend (for now)
yourusername: considering i literally fried my leg getting him out i don't remember most of that day
alexalbon: UGH you people are no help
yourusername: ???
oscarpiastri: ???
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 2,560 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: no pulling this one out of a burning wreck this weekend 👍
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user21: omg oscar's smile ??? i am faint
landonorris: do i mean nothing to you?
yourusername: i am literally oscar's guest let me rep him in peace
landonorris: booooooo if you're going to wear his number might as well ask him out while you're at it
yourusername: mind your business, i know what i'm doing
user22: Y/N?????????
oscarpiastri: i see you know my angles already, can you come every weekend?
yourusername: i'd love to but i have a lil thing called a job :(
oscarpiastri: boring, can't you be my full time personal photographer?
landonorris: and his girlfriend?
oscarpiastri: do you mind?
landonorris: what? i'm just trying to help
oscarpiastri: you are MEDDLING
yourusername: you guys done?
oscarpiastri: yes
landonorris: NO
user23: lando is a no 1 y/n x oscar shipper he's so real
user24: y/n is so much stronger than me i'd hand in my notice right this second
yourusername: believe me i would if i could
landonorris: to both options?
oscarpiastri: LANDO STOP
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yourusername
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liked by alexalbon, oscarpiastri and 19,056 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: happy to be your guardian angel baby x
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user29: new f1 parents just entered the chat
landonorris: i'm taking responsibility for this happening, you’re welcome
yourusername: stop right there buddy, this was all ME
oscarpiastri: nuh uh it was ME
yourusername: i asked YOU out?
oscarpiastri: technically yes, but i asked you to dinner first
yourusername: actually, if i remember correctly that was your mum
oscarpiastri: FINE you asked me out and i'm very glad you did and you ARE my guardian angel and you ARE way out of my league
landonorris: you said it i didn't
oscarpiastri: LANDO LET ME FLIRT IN PEACE YOU NUISANCE
landonorris: woah, you've changed bro
yourusername: are we finished boys?
landonorris: yes, and for real i am very happy for you guys
user30: lando saying he made this happen is the most lando thing ever
logansargent: can you tell him to stop ignoring me now?
yourusername: soz under strict rules not to fraternize with a traitor
logansargent: I'M SORRY BUT I CAN'T HANDLE SPICE
user31: at least logan is self-aware
oscarpiastri
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oscarpiastri: sometimes all you need to do is flip an f1 car into a barrier and burst into flames to meet the love of your life (and give her third degree burns)
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user32: OSCAR WITH A BACKWARDS CAP TEACHING HER TENNIS SOMEONE CALL 911 I AM NOT OKAY
landonorris: okay we get it now you guys are cute
yourusername: for someone who was 'the reason we got together' you've changed your tune
landonorris: yes i am glad you have each other but that doesn't change the fact that i am LONELY and don't need to see gross couple stuff
oscarpiastri: you poor baby
landonorris: NO SYMPATHY?
oscarpiastri: i'm gonna cite all of your tomfoolery in the other comment sections
landonorris: okay fair
user33: okay but can we promise to never have a crash like that again?
yourusername: agreed
aussiegrit: happy for you kid
oscarpiastri: thank you mark :)
yourusername: so this is mark... hi?
aussiegrit: don't worry i've heard nothing but wonderful things about you, i look forward to meeting you at the next race
user34: y/n already has all of the approval oh wow
yourusername: i love you dummy (never do that again or i'll never talk to you again)
oscarpiastri: you got it, wins only from now on 🫡
yourusername: ur the champion in my heart
oscarpiastri: 🧡 🧡 🧡
logansargaent
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liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 304,788 others
tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri
logansargeant: public shaming is good sometimes. though now i third wheel with only a fish by my side
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user35: i am SCREAMING
yourusername: oh florida boy, your time will come (don't put that fish pic on your tinder, i know you want to)
logansargeant: girls love fish?
yourusername: trust me they don't
logansargeant: is this just because oscar is bad at fishing?
yourusername: DELETE IT FROM YOUR TINDER PROFILE NOW OR THIRD WHEEL FOREVER
user36: what is going on here?
alexalbon: god logan this is tragic, how did you expose him and end up with a fish as your date
logansargeant: but is the size of the fish not impressive?
alexalbon: no, take y/n's advice
oscarpiastri: fine, you're forgiven. only because y/n found it cute, if she found it weird it would be you found at the bottom of a lake
logansargeant: ???????????? there was a chilli oscar
oscarpiastri: stop hiding behind your american passport, i'd eat that chilli for you
logansargeant: but it all worked out?
oscarpiastri: thankfully for you
yourusername: is it bad that this is kinda sexy?
logansargeant: he threatened to murder me?
yourusername: he's so protective 🫶
oscarpiastri: hehehehe thanks babe x
logansargeant: i give up.
note: WOAH two in one night? i am on a roll. anyhow, do enjoy, i love oscar so much so glad he extended !! xx
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voidpetrova · 2 months
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cash or credit? — rafe cameron x reader
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☄. *. ⋆ content warning(s) & genre: swearing, use of marijuana, explicit sexual content, unprotected sex, praise, sex under the influence — smut
˚♡ 。˚ synopsis: it's your first time trying weed, and you have no one to turn to but your best friend, who offers a different way for you to pay him back
✧.*
“absolutely not,”
“why the fuck not?”
“i'm not fucking selling you weed.”
you weren't exactly a persuasive person. negotiating wasn't exactly one of your specialties, a prime reason you were in the position you werw currently in, and not one of north carolina's most famous lawyers. you wanted to try some weed, wanted to see how it feels to get high. you've been a drinker up until this, knocking more than a few back with ease. a fan of cigarettes, too. you didn't care for spending money on them, though. why would you go through the trouble? stealing them from your best friend was easier.
“you're such a dick, dude,” you scoffed, waving the money you had brought in his face. you didn't know exactly how much you were getting, how much you needed, or how much it'd cost. so, you just brought a fifty for good measure. there was no way it was more than that. “i'm trying to expand your business here, you should be thanking me.”
rafe scoffed at you as he finished off what was left of his joint, inhaling the bitter smoke as he furrowed his eyebrows. “you're crazy if you think i'm gonna let you get high.” he argued after holding the smoke in, for as long as he could. now, it was your turn to scoff, “don't act like you care,” he shot an eyebrow up at your words. “if you don't sell it to me, some other shady asshole will. so, either help me or let me get laced.”
despite not being persuasive, you had a special way of pushing his buttons. “jesus fucking christ, c'mere,” he finally agreed, sighing in defeat as he motioned for you to come sit next to him. you were ecstatic, rushing over to sit next to him as you pulled him in for a hug. you felt him tense up under your touch, cheeks turning the prettiest shade of pink as you uttered out your “thank yous”.
the glass table set in front of him was laid with a variety of artifacts, some familiar to you while others weren't. you spotted his grinder, rolling paper, and his tinted bags of weed. the scent wasn't overwhelming, unlike the stern look he shot you. “you're not leaving my sight, you got that?” you nodded, patiently watching out for his next move.
he pulled out a sheet of rolling paper from the pack, the sheer material twirling between his fingertips. “if you're gonna smoke, may as well teach you how to roll,” he insisted, only half-joking as he shot you a smile. “first and last time i roll for you, you hear me?” that was a lie and he knew it, but you listened, nonetheless.
“take some weed, be gentle with it,” he began as he opened up his bag, revealing the dark green plant inside. “put it in the grinder, gotta open it up.” you watched closely, scanning the way his strong, long fingers pulled the grinder apart, layering the plant inside before closing it back up. “gonna grind it up just until it's fine, okay?” it was a weird thing to admit, but you couldn't help but enjoy the way he talked you through it. it made you feel stupid, but in a weird way, pleasant.
he worked the tool carefully, turning it toward the side, but not for long. as he removed the lid, you watched the way it had gone from whole to fine in a matter of seconds. “hand me the rolling paper, sweetheart.” you gulped, tensing up at the nickname, but you said nothing. you handed him the sheer sheet, watching as he flattened it out on the table. his fingers carefully picked at the green, layering it on the paper as closely as he could. “gotta leave some space before you start rolling.”
you frowned at the generous amount of weed he had been stuffing the paper with. “that not too much?” he let out a dry laugh, “if you're gonna smoke with me, gotta make sure i make it worth it.” you trusted him more than you trusted yourself, you trusted his experience and, unfortunately, him as a person. so, you said nothing.
after filling up the paper generously enough, you watched carefully, breath hitching in your throat as he brought the half-done joint up to his lips, swiping his tongue from the left corner to the right. you didn't know if it was voluntary or not, if it was just because of how close you were sitting next to him, but you couldn't ignore what the sight did to you. he seemed to have noticed it, too. “like what you see?” he smirked, earning a scoff from you as you snapped out of your trance. “less talking, more rolling.”
he had pressed tightly, rolling the joint in a tighr and orderly fashion, careful to watch out for loose ends and spills. he was a professional, he loved his work. the joint was formed in a matter of seconds, and he was all too pleased with himself. the filter held everything in place, thin paper wrapped around it carefully.
“let me just spark it up for you, yeah?” you nodded in agreement, watching as he placed the joint in between his lips. his lighter flickered, awaiting the flame that would ignite your newlyfound experience. he was careful not to burn the paper, finally setting it ablaze the right way before inhaling deeply. the smoke hit his lungs like thunder, but it was nothing new to him. he let out a sigh of relief before turning to you, passing you the joint.
there was no hesitation—you took it, rolling it in between your index finger and thumb as you pressed it to your lips. you ignored the way the scent shocked your lips, leaving a nasty burning sensation, as you inhaled deeply. rafe watched in admiration, eyebrows jolting at the fact that you hadn't ended up in a fit of coughs. you took it like a champ, keeping it in your lungs long enough to kickstart a buzz, even helping yourself to a second hit. “atta fucking girl, took it so good,” he cooed. you gulped, savoring the unique flavor in your mouth despite how dry it was. his words did something to you no law of science could explain. “thanks, rafey.” luckily for you, your chosen nickname had similar effects on him.
what was left of the joint spent the following minute or so being passed between you and rafe, until nothing was left to smoke. you had slouched your shoulders in disappointment at how fast the joint seemed to turn to ash, but rafe made up for it by rolling a new one. the process repeated itself once more—grind, sprinkle, lick, roll, smoke. when fifteen minutes followed the second joint, you were scared to stand up.
you had kicked your legs over rafe's lap, head beginning to spin each time you tried getting up, so you had accepted defeat. you leaned back, mouth dry as your legs tensed up, eliciting soft whines from your lips, earning rafe's attention. “so much for taking it well,” he smirked. you responded with another whine, “can't even think anymore.” he let out a soft laugh, his voice deeper than usual. “that's what makes it so fun.”
he had a point—it was as if your brain had finally turned itself off. nothing mattered, not even the dryness in your mouth, or the way your eyes burned. not with the way your head spinned, as if you were existing anywhere but the present. you pulled your arms behind your head, arching your back as you stretched, trying to rid yourself of the tension in your lats. rafe's eyes wandered and he couldn't help but stare at the way your back arched, tank top lifting to reveal your bare stomach and the bottom of your tits. your head was leaned back, pretty noises leaving your mouth and your eyes shut. he swallowed roughly, palm involuntarily pushing down against the strain in his pants.
he tried his hardest to pull it off, but the voice in his head had something better in mind. “should talk about how you're gonna pay me back, sunshine,” you pulled yourself back up, head tilting as you processed what he was saying. you shrugged, “how much money do you want?” rafe had to think about it for a second, having all the time in the world to ponder, before finally biting the bullet.
“don't want your fuckin' money.” for a second, you were confused. you had known him for a long time, and you've had your moments where nothing he said made any sense to you, and this was one of them. “what do you want then, rafey?”
every nerve inside your body was on fire as you watched him carefully. he met your eyes with his own red, low ones. his voice was deeper than usual, smoother than usual. today, his shirt seemed tighter. his legs seemed more spread apart. to prevent your eyes from trailing down any lower, you had to shut them light. “look at me,” he whispered. just like always, you did as you were told, eyes fluttering open as you met his gaze. you tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, wetting it, desperate for some kind of moisture. he spread his legs just a bit more, before beckoning for you to come over. for you to sit. “c'mere.”
one word was all it had taken for you to give in, as much as he let you. you crawled over towards him, his eyes of admiration dropping from your face to the open valley of your breasts as you did so. when your faces were inches apart, he found himself cupping your jaw, thumbing your soft skin. “just thought of a way you could pay me back,” he purred. “you think you can be good for me?”
all you had come over for was the chance to experience a new high, wanting to see what the big deal was. if you had known this was what fate had in store for you, you'd have done it much sooner. “i can be good for you,” you assured him, and he smiled for what seemed more than genuine.
the air crackled with anticipation as he closed the distance, his fingers grazing your cheek. the world faded away, leaving only the pulsating heat of the moment. rafe's lips met yours in a fiery dance, a blend of passion and longing. time seemed to stand still as the kiss deepened, sending shivers down your spine. in that stolen moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and all that remained was your searing connection. he practically growled as he wrapped his arms around your bare waist, pulling you onto his lap.
“no idea how long i've been waiting to do that,” you smiled at his words as you pulled away, only to pull your tank top off your body. “no idea how long i've been waiting for you to do that.”
you could feel him poking you through your shorts, your clothed, damp panties. he was big, you could tell. it was something you found yourself wondering more often than necessary, but he was big. rock hard while you pressed your cunt against him, rocking your hips. he let out a moan, one of the prettiest sounds you have ever heard in your life, and you were sure you wanted to hear more of it. he could feel himself growing harder while you grew wetter, whining as he took one of your tits in his mouth, hand wrapped around the other.
“thank god you came to me for this,” he hummed, pressing a final kiss to your tit before working on ridding himself of his own clothes. “if you'd done this with any other fucker, i'd kill him on the spot.”
you shook your head, watching carefully as he pulled his shirt off, carefully revealing himself to you little by little. “just for you, rafey.” he seemed satisfied with your answer.
he wanted to take his time with you, having fantasized about this moment in particular forever. though, a part of him just wanted to having you a moaning mess beneath him. your hand slid up his bare chest, eyes glossy with impatience as he rid himself of his boxers. “need you to fuck me, rafey.”
“gonna be the death of me,” he shook his head, hand pressed thoughtlessly against the front of your thigh, spreading you wider while in his lap. “but not before i stretch this pussy.” he sighed under his breath, ever so eagerly pressing a finger between your clothed folds, fat lips swallowing the sheer material. you sucked in a breath, and released it with a hiccup, his eyes leaving your cunt to look at you as you did so. “take 'em off, baby.” he delivered a light slap to your clothed clit, a smirk gracing his lips when you jolted with a whine. you wriggled out of them, unsure of what to do with them so you reach to throw them to the side, but rafe beats you to it. he's quick to throw them but not before pressing them to his nose, dick twitching as he inhaled your sweet scent, leaving you flushed with embarrassment.
when he'd finally pushed into you, his blonde bangs shook against his forehead as he looked up at you, watching your cunt slurp him up while you cried with each passing second. moans were practically shoved out of you, like there was no room to keep them inside while he buried himself to the balls in your little cunt. quickening his pace, slapping skin on skin because of what he had been missing out on for so long.
“rafey, too fucking much,” you sobbed, lost in what seemed to be pain and pleasure, clutching his toned arms. he pushed your hand off of him, picking you up just slightly by your thighs. for a second, you'd been granted a reprieve, but that was only a warm-up, slotting his hands under your thighs to raise you, biceps aching from the process. for a second, you catched your ragged breath, until he slammed you back onto his dick. he didn't think to ease you on inch after inch, no, he bottomed out right away, plunging his length into you. you thought it was hard before, now you were on the verge of tears, thoughtlessly reaching out to him as if to wordlessly ask for a time-out.
he kept his absolute focus on you as he watched with low eyes, dick twitching at the sight of you bouncing on his dick despite the pain, your eyes red and teary as your tits bounched with every movement, a ring of cream forming around his shaft, and he couldn't resist smirking. you spasmed, clutching around his cock. “sweet little cunt sucking my dick in, yeah?” he cooed rhetorically, batting his eyelashes tauntingly. “best not be letting anyone fuck this pussy after me.”
you balled your little fingers up at the pain, weakly hitting your fist against his chest, taut from his hold on you, fingernails digging into your skin as you struggled to fight him. “no one's gonna fuck me but you, rafey, i swear!” he smirked at the response, “just got started and you're already so desperate f'my dick.” he deliberately pushed your hips down against his pelvis, introducing a deeper way for his cock to drill into you, and in turn, pistoning his dick into you in a way that had your eyes rolling. his movements, telling himself to be slow and careful, caused him to tremble from effort, every muscle flexed as he fucked you. your legs were spread for him as he watched you drench his dick in your juices.
“i'll split you in half if i catch you with another guy.” he was so deep inside that you could feel his tight balls against you. he was stretching you out so wide that you felt like he was piercing you. his hips picked up a relentless pace, snapping up against yours so hard that the sofa trembled under his ass. “no one else, rafe, i promise. only you get to have me.” he loves the idea of it so much that's he's chasing his high now, snarling as he rubs your puffy clit, dick pounding into you as you moan some more, stomach twisting and turning as you gush some more.
by then, your whole body was convulsing, and you'd been void of any energy. rafe knew that, it was crystal clear. he fumbled your bouncing tits as his mouth hung open, snarls passing his lips as he stuffed you as much as possible. his cock split you in half with each hard thrust, hands migrating to the back of your thighs, spreading you as he pounded you, cock twitching as tears slid down your cheeks.
“i’m gonna cum, fuck, fuck,” you warned. he slammed into you a few more times before his balls tightened, and before you knww it, he was spurting his seed into you with the most delicious groan you’d ever heard. you finally came, drunk from his cock and so far gone that you wondered if you were even alive anymore. you were, in fact, very much alive. you knew it when you looked into his eyes, shaking in his lap as he remained plunged into your pussy, fingertips stroking your fleshy thighs. he couldn't resist smiling at the sight of you.
“wanna roll another one?”
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kiwi-bitchez · 5 months
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Double Down, Triple Threat 
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Summary: insecure!Eddie x bartender!Reader
Eddie is constantly flirting with you after his Corroded Coffin sets at the Hideout, and you have the bad habit of flirting back. What happens when you overhear a conversation that wasn’t meant for you? Maybe you’ve had the wrong idea about the cocky metalhead who negs you for free drinks. Now you need to take it into your own hands to resolve some built up tension. 
Smut, as always, with a touch of angst but generally fluff/happy ending. 
Word count: 18k (eek! in retrospect I maybe should have split this into multiple parts but...fuck it, brevity has never been my strong suit LOL) Buckle up for a doozy.
Content warnings: smut, afab reader with she/her pronouns, use of y/n, alcohol consumption, smoking, the devil’s lettuce, mention of Eddie's scars and sustained injuries (slightly canon divergent obviously because our boy is ALIVE here, but the events of season 4 generally stand otherwise), also Eddie does some negative self talk where he refers to himself as mutilated but everything is happy in the end I promise, and scars are nothing to be insecure about he's just down in the dumps you feel me?, oral (fem receiving), fingering (fem receiving), unprotected PIV sex (plz use protection irl), pet names, reader and Eddie shower together
A/N: I know it’s been a hot minute since I’ve posted a fic on here, but I hope all y’all who are still riding the Eddie Munson thirst train enjoy this :) I’m trying to regain the motivation to write more, so hopefully more fics to come soon (no promises though lol) (maybe some Steve? Steddie x Reader? Let me know what y’all want to see.) I
"I'll have the usual," his hoarse voice and boisterous presence cut through what few other customers sat at your bar, forcing your attention his way.
"Yeah, and what would that be?" you try to give him your best deadpan voice, unsure yet if you were in the mood for his antics. 
"Come on, like I ever order anything other than a whiskey and coke," his curly dark hair stuck slightly to his damp forehead, not having bothered to wipe the sweat from his brow in between the stage and the bar. If you could even call it a stage. It was more of a sad corner with an extension cable and a few amps that his grunting bandmates were lugging back into their truck while he very helpfully came over and tried to flirt with the bartender. You were the only bartender. On Friday nights anyways. 
"That's because you're unoriginal," his drink was already half made as you flick your eyes up through your lashes at him, knowing he was watching you intently, not that he was particular about how his drink was made by any stretch. "You're actually going to pay for it this time," you slid the glass over to him, "I'm not joking."
"You wound me," he tries his best to give you puppy dog eyes, "but I'm pretty sure Randy mentioned something about drink tickets when we negotiated our new Friday slot."
"That's not a thing," you make up menial tasks behind the bar to keep your hands and eyes busy while he relentlessly chats with you, "never has been. Plus if I keep giving you free drinks you'll get the idea that I like you or something." 
Fuck, you told yourself you should stop flirting back with him. Your first excuse had been professionalism, which didn't make a lick of sense considering you were a bar back at this hole in the wall that paid local bands in drink tickets, apparently. Your second excuse had been that as fun as Eddie was to chat with, you hardly knew anything about him other than his loud band and his drink order. 
Unfortunately he liked to chat and sooner than later you knew more about him than you wanted to. Your newest excuse? If you kept flirting back with him he might get the idea that he could see you outside of this dingy bar, and you liked the comfort and safety of the three feet of wood separating you, it kept you from doing something you might regret. 
"Don't act like you didn't like our set," he threw the rest of his drink back, "I saw you watchin' from over here."
"Yeah, well you're kind of hard to ignore, you know, with the volume and all," your voice had a too-playful tone that you mentally noted to dial back on. 
If you were being honest, Corroded Coffin was one of the weekly acts that you didn't entirely mind. Most were groups of middle aged men trying to relive the glory days by booking a weeknight at the Hideout, instruments barely tuned and a setlist that was decades out of style. While Eddie's band certainly wasn't everyone's cup of tea, you found yourself tapping your foot along with their songs more often than not. At least they were original, you’d give them that. 
He held his glass up to signal a request for another. "Go help your friends carry all your shit," you swiped the cup from his hand, hating that you focused on how your fingers briefly touched his, "and then I'll make you another. And I'm charging you for both."
"Whatever you say, babe" he spun around three or four times on the bar stool before sauntering off and finally assisting with moving the amps and drum kit. You rolled your eyes, not that he was watching you anymore, but more to keep yourself from checking out how his shirt clung to his torso. His black t-shirt was always a size too small, revealing his tattoo covered arms that you never allowed yourself to stare long enough at to make out what any of them were. 
Eddie was nice. As much as you liked to push each other's buttons and joke around, he was a lot more respectful than most patrons that tried their hand at flirting with you. He never said anything gross or disrespectful, not something you could say about most men who've had more than a few beers. 
But you didn't want to risk pushing any boundaries with him, because you work here, and his band plays here weekly, religiously. You didn't want things to get weird, and as much as you learned how to avoid certain patrons, there was only so much space between the 'stage' and your station behind the bar. 
Despite this, you have his second drink made before he finishes putting his stuff away, and you haven't started a tab for either of them. A big smile stretches across his cheeks when he notices his already-made drink set by his stool as he walks over from the back door. You couldn't help but feel a tiny smile creep up on your face as well. 
"Really made me work for this one, huh?" he takes the first sip while still standing before setting back into his seat, "truly amazing service, best I've ever had, really." You glare at him while cleaning some cups absentmindedly with a rag. "Not sure if you can tip on a drink ticket though..."
"Fuck off," you giggle and throw the wet towel at him, "you can't charm your way into TWO free drinks you ass."
"Aww you think I'm charming?" the flirtations between you were always edged with sarcasm, which you both found a lot easier than admitting 'hey you need to stop looking at me like that or else I'm going to keep thinking about pinning you against this countertop.'
"No, I don't, which is why you're PAYING for both those drinks," a lie followed by another lie, and you both knew it. "Where'd your band go?"
"Why? 'm I boring you?" he didn't mind taking up all your attention when the other bar patrons were either too drunk to stand or too old to even notice that a metal band had performed for the past hour. "No one's ever accused Gareth of being more interesting than yours truly. Plus he doesn't drink anyways, so your venture capitalist instincts wont work on him." He raised his drink to punctuate his joke before taking another long swig. 
"Ha ha," you don't give him the satisfaction of a real laugh, "I just wanted to make sure you had a ride home in case you try and swindle me into making you a third drink."
"Oh no, I told them all to scram, that I had a hot date with you and my unsettled tab," he leaned over the bar, trying to eliminate as much space between himself and you, "plus I've got a friend coming by to pick me up in a bit. So if you wanted to make me that third drink in exchange for me keeping you company while you close up, I certainly don't have any reason to turn you down."
"Fine," you point at him with a stern finger, "but this one'll be more coke than whiskey."
"Deal," he pointed his finger back at you, moving carefully in so the tips of your pointers touched. This made you genuinely laugh, unable to keep up a wall for too long around him. 
He finished his second drink while you ordered last call, and settled up with crumpled cash and mumbled thank you’s from the few remaining drunks. After closing up the cash register you make him that more-coke-than-whiskey drink as promised, and get to wiping down every sticky surface. 
"What's your drink?" he asks.
"Hmm?" you glance over from your hunched over position, trying to get the wet rag across the underside of the bar where someone had clearly spilt what appeared to be an entire pint of light beer. 
"You know my drink order, I wanna know yours." you stand up straight and look at him. 
You consider pushing back and demanding why he wanted to know, but it was late and you only had so many quips left in you, "Gin and tonic with extra lime." You get back to soaking up the spilt mess.
"Woooooow," his drink was finished and he took it upon himself to grab the broom from behind the bar and start sweeping up the bottle caps and tracked in dirt, "and you had the nerve to call me unoriginal."
"I'm not some creative rock and roll guitar guy like you, I don't need to be original, I'm just a bartender," you let him keep sweeping and start checking off other tasks from your closing list.
"You aren't just a bartender, give yourself more credit than that babe," he held up the dustpan full of crap, silently asking where to put it and you hold open a mostly full garbage bag for him to dump it into before tying it off, "judging by your drink order I would also guess that you're, hmmmm, an 85 year old man."
"Oh my god," you slap him on the arm with another half dirty hand towel, "in that case, you're doing voluntary manual labor just to flirt with this 85 year old man, so maybe you need to reevaluate your priorities."
He takes a few steps forward, not quite caging you against the bar, but nearly there. "And how am I doing? Is it working?" He's the closest he's ever been to you, jokingly sliding the broom around your feet, pretending to sweep while maintaining searing eye contact.
As the which-one-of-us-is-going-to-learn-in-first question buzzes around you, an irritating light flickers through the big front window, indicating someone had pulled their car right up to the curb with their high beams on. Eddie scrunches his nose up, and your urge to kiss him somehow grows despite his annoyed expression. "That's my ride."
You give him a small nod, turning your head to try and squint to see who could possibly be picking him up at this hour, but not making out much through the foggy glass. "I suppose I can manage the rest without you," you grab the broom from him, fingers touching for the second time tonight, "see you next week, rockstar."
Eddie wants to do something smooth, a wink or a clever line, but instead nervously gives you a nod and is out the front door before he can give it a second thought. The minute the door closes behind him you let out all the air you had been holding in your chest, both frustrated and slightly relieved. Eddie on the other hand- was bursting with regret and frustration, immediately running his hands through his hair and pulling a cigarette out of his pocket. 
"Absolutely not," Steve craned his neck out of his car that always looked like it had just gotten a fresh wax and detail, "at least five feet away from the beemer if you're going to light that." 
Eddie rolled his eyes, considering putting the cigarette back into the carton and getting the fuck away from this bar, but ultimately gave in and pivoted on his heel storming back towards the brick exterior and slumping against it as he flicked his lighter and took an aggressively deep pull. 
"What's your damage?" Steve moved out of the expensive car, keeping a bit of distance from Eddie but close enough that the two could talk, "That bartender you like wasn't on or something?"
"She's inside closing up now, so keep your fuckin' voice down" he gave Steve a glare and then immediately an apologetic look for being so prickly, "I'm just bad at this shit, man."
"You can't be that bad at it, Gareth and Jeff said the two of you eye fuck across the room every Friday night," Steve shrugs, understanding Eddie's drawback but knowing his friend rarely gives himself the benefit of the doubt. 
"Yeah, well, that's not the hard part," Eddie rips his cigarette and presses his wild hair deeper into the brick behind him, exhaling upwards. 
You had taken note that Eddie's ride hadn't left yet, so you busied yourself for a minute before deciding who cares if you had to give him an awkward wave on your way across the parking lot, so you locked up and grabbed the trash to take to the dumpster out back before leaving for the night. 
You really didn't mean to eavesdrop, but as soon as the back door clicked you heard their muffled conversation from around the corner. Rather than give away your presence with the clanging of the trash you gently set it against the wall and moved forward silently, staying out of sight but well within earshot. 
"Flirting is the easy part, she's fuckin' easy to talk to, man" Eddie's voice carried, and you felt guilty but continued to listen, "I don't want to just fuck her though, I want to like, date...her."
"Oh," Steve's voice dropped knowingly, "well that's... good, I guess, that you like her like that."
"Well even if I didn't like her like that and was only looking to fuck her," he sighs out, and you carefully listen while furrowing your eyebrows, trying to make sense of their conversation, "she's gorgeous, and no girl that hot- scratch that no girl at all want's to fuck some mutilated freak."
"Don't call yourself a freak," Steve's voice seems apprehensive. 
"Yeah, sure, but you can't say I'm not mutilated." There was a beat of silence, and you didn't have time to think too much about his words before he went off again, voice laced with thick sarcasm, "Oh hey babe, so glad you were able to look past that I live in a trailer park and all my neighbors think I'm a satan worshiping murderer, but I hope you can be cool with my singular nipple and weird lumpy scar tissue, I know it's super hot, you're gonna have to get in line." His voice carried easily far past your hiding spot. 
"You're not giving her much credit dude," Steve was still apprehensive to respond, knowing how Eddie got when he started to spiral, "Maybe she's not that shallow."
"It's not that," Eddie's voice started to calm, "I'd just rather take my twenty minutes of flirting after our Friday gigs than risk it and have her look at me like she's sorry for me or something." 
With that he snubbed out his cigarette butt with the toe of his combat boots, let out a big sigh, and moved to get into the passenger side of Steve's car. You take a few slow, careful steps back towards the slumped garbage bag and wait until you hear the engine start and see the lights pull out onto the opposite side of the road. 
Fuck. Part of you felt incredibly guilty for listening to what was obviously meant to be a private conversation, especially a private conversation about you. But your gears were turning far too fast to get hung up on guilt. 
You always felt apprehensive about Eddie because you figured he was a flirt, a player, the kind of guy who talks to all bartenders like that, and you just happened to be the one he flirted with after his Corroded Coffin shows. You never wanted to get too invested in making him smile or waiting around for him to chat you up, because you know how most guys are, especially guys who carry themselves with that much confidence. And you were fucking wrong. 
Now fully realizing that the ball is in your court, you need to plan your first move. You decided, Eddie was worth taking the risk. 
It was truly a shot in the dark, but if your intuition ended up being a bust then no one would know about your wasted afternoon other than yourself. The following afternoon you drove aimlessly up and down the unpaved residential streets of the trailer park. There were two in town but you had a pretty good feeling that this was the one. 
You only started to feel stupid when you got some confused and slightly angry looks from people going about their business, hanging laundry or smoking on their porches, scrunching their noses and trying to make out the unfamiliar car driving in circles around their neighborhood. 
Aha! There it was. You knew that your gut could only fail you so many times when it came to Eddie. Exactly what you had been looking for, a big black and blue 1971 Chevrolet van strewn with dents, patches of rust, and, your telltale sign, a homemade Corroded Coffin sticker crookedly placed on the faded chrome of the bumper. 
Step one, complete. Step two was contingent on Eddie even being home. The presence of his van had you feeling hopeful. 
You attempt to rid yourself of lingering nerves with a deep breath and silent pep talk. You park adjacent to his van and hop out before your legs can convince you not to, and suddenly you've rung the doorbell and are standing with your hands clasped nervously in front of his door. 
"Just a minute," you hear him yell from inside, step two, complete, "What're you here for? Cuz I only got weed right now so if you're..." his hollering voice trails off from inside as he catches a glimpse of you through the screen. "Y/n? What the fuck are you doing here?" 
"Jeez, hello to you too," you try to lace your voice with the same flirty edge that you always took with Eddie, but you didn't have the comfortable barrier of the bar or the security of being the person serving him his drinks. 
"How the fuck do you know where I live?" His tone wasn't quite angry, but it was bordering on more pointed than just confused. 
"Sorry, I didn't mean to drop by totally unexpected," you suddenly felt vulnerable, regretting this whole stupid plan, "I can go." 
You start to scurry back to your car and hide your face forever, but he cuts you off with, "No, no, just, why are you here?" He softened his voice, and came down the stoop to hover over you on the last step. 
"Well," here goes nothing, "last night I felt like we sort of got interrupted." You pause, trying to gauge his reaction, "And I couldn't stop thinking about it, and I didn’t want to wait a whole week to see you again."
"Oh," his face and reaction didn't give you much of a clue as to what he was thinking. 
"And," you started filling the empty air with words, as you often did out of anxiety, "I know where you live because I've heard you sing 'fuck everyone in the trailer park, I'll play my music and curse your existance' probably a thousand times, it really wasn’t that hard to figure out where you live." 
He let out a chuckle, despite being deep in the throws of processing your earlier statement of feeling cut off. Of course he wanted to see you outside the confines of the musty bar, he just hadn't expected it to be like this, so sudden. "Well that's fair. I’ll give you double points for perception."
"I didn't mean to interrupt your Saturday," you began to reel again, "just wanted to tell you I'd like to hang out with you sometime, preferably not at The Hideout."
"Can sometime be now?" he hopped down from the last step and gave you an inquisitive smile, nose slightly scrunched and giving you butterflies. 
"Yeah, sometime can be now. You promise I'm not interrupting anything?" you felt a wave of relief, his energy had fully shifted from confusion to your comfortable flirty banter.
"Just a packed bong and have some laundry I probably wasn't going to do anyways," he suddenly realized he either had to invite you inside, which would be slightly embarrassing given the current state of his trailer, or suggest a secondary location, "you hungry? We can grab lunch or something?" 
He offered to drive, and you suggested sandwiches and beer to go for a backseat van picnic. He was relieved that you were down with doing something so casual, no stuffy cafes or overpriced food. If you were more than happy to suggest eating deli counter sandwiches in the back of his clunky van then maybe he had less to worry about than he thought. 
The passing moments between you had him realizing he truly didn't know much about you. Your job, how you had no problem snapping back at rude customers, and most recently your favorite drink. He wanted to know more, and quickly did as you had a 'regular' sandwich order and gave him directions to a side street that looked out onto a small lake, explaining that you'd eat lunch out here sometimes when the weather was nice. He parked the van in reverse, letting the back doors swing open, giving you the perfect bench looking out to the scenery to sit back and eat. 
"All my years living 'round here, I've never been to this spot," he noted through bites of sandwich wrapped in white paper.
"Yeah, most people know the spot across the lake with the rope swing and all that," you gesture across to where there was a popular jumping rock littered with empty beer cans, "too crowded for me though, it's more peaceful over here." 
"Sorry if I was a bit rude earlier," he started, but you quickly cut him off before he could finish his apology.
"No, no," you move your hand over to gently grab his mid gesture, "don't apologize, your reaction was incredibly reasonable."
"I just-' he started but you gave his hand a squeeze, "I really am happy you decided to come by, I didn't want you to think otherwise."
"I'm happy you chose lunch with me over a bong and laundry, that was some tough competition I had," he rolled his eyes at you.
"Don't make fun of me," he nudged your side, "I'm usually pretty wiped from Friday's show and trying to think of clever things to keep up with you, so my Saturday's are usually pretty lazy," your shoulders rubbed against each other, "being a washed up wannabe rockstar and flirting with a girl way out of my league can really do a number on me."
You share a soft giggle but reassure him that playing live music, even if it is only for you and a crowd of five drunks is still pretty cool. "Plus I like that you dress like this all the time, it's not just an act, this is just how you are," you gesture to his ripped jeans and ring clad fingers.
"What did you expect, babe? Surprise me at my trailer to find me in a polo and khakis?" the suggestion alone had the two of you laughing, brainstorming an alternate universe where Eddie was an accountant by day and only let his rocker side loose on Friday nights. 
"If you aren't secretly an accountant, what do you do when you're not playing music, if I may ask," you realize this was really one of the first personal questions you'd exchanged, keeping things punchy and surface level until this point.
"Ah, well," he scratches the back of his head, "although I wish the drink tickets we make at The Hideout were enough to cover rent, I work down at the body shop, you know the one down the street from the grocery store? My uncle knew some guys there and hooked me up with a job fixing cars after high school, and it's not too bad, I'm not half bad at it either, so that's where I'm at."
"You just really keep getting better and better, huh?" at first he wonders if your comment is sarcastic, but you continue "So what I'm hearing is you'll look at my rattling engine for free? I know nothing about cars and am always worried the people at the body shop are going to overcharge me."
"I only charge in sandwich dates and drink tickets, so you're in luck," he responds quickly without giving it much of a thought. 
You take a second, "What about dinner dates? Maybe movie dates too? Are those acceptable payments for your mechanic expertise?" 
"Not usually, but I'll make an exception for you," he responds after a few beats, realizing you wanted to see him again, and not just at the bar. 
You both are looking out at the lake, the buzzing energy around you making you nervous to look at each other. So you just tilt your head sideways to rest on his shoulder, "Phew, that's a relief, because I have a lot more of these planned."
"Oh yeah?" he shifts his body towards you, lifting your head from his shoulder and finally meeting his gaze, a stupid grin plastered across his face, he couldn't help it. "Which one of these dates do I finally get to kiss you?" You let out a breathy laugh, half amused by his corny line and half surprised he was being so forward. 
"Hmmm, I'm not sure," you pretend to think it over, stringing this out was killing both of you, but you couldn't help but push his buttons a bit more, "I'd say I'm kind of a third date kind of gal."
"Three? As in three from now or three including this one?" He seemed genuinely concerned, causing a genuine laugh to slip through the act you were putting on. 
You move your hand to his chest, faces closer than they had ever been. You had always been sucked into his big brown eyes, but now you saw flecks of honey and deep browns that bordered on black in them, faded freckles dotted across his cheeks, a chapped patch on his lower lip that had clearly been the victim of some anxious chewing. "I'll make an exception this time, for you."
He let you make the first move, leaning in and gently pressing your lips to his, soft and slow. You could feel his breath catch in his throat, prompting you to pull back and look at him through fluttered lashes, as your mouth parted slightly to ask him if that was okay, his big ring clad hands cupped the sides of your cheeks and pulled you right back into him, kissing you like he was afraid you'd evaporate if he ever stopped. 
The wind was knocked out of you. You couldn't be bothered to breathe when your attention was solely focused on his lips, his tongue, the sharp intake air he sucked in between slotting your top lip down to your swollen bottom one, nipping with teeth and holding your face so close. 
After a minute of soft whimpers and exploring the new intimacy you pull back to finally catch your breath, fully ready to ignore the need for oxygen and lean back in when you see his face, rosy and buzzing with excited energy. 
"Sorry, if that was kind of a lot," he realized you had given the sweetest peck and he proceeded to practically shove his tongue down your throat. 
You however, were already brushing his apology off and leaning in for more, missing the feeling of his big hands cradling your face, sending tingling shockwaves down your body. Before you could lunge back at him and take more of what you wanted, he takes your chin in between his fingers and tilts your head up to his.
"I don't know if you can tell, but I'm sort of crazy about you. And I really don't want to fuck this up, but I've wanted to do that for a really long time.” 
He could tell by your pout that you were begging for another kiss, and he couldn't refuse you. You were completely lost in it. Learning that he let out a little gasp when you ran your fingers up into his hair, that he would catch your bottom lip in between his teeth when you started to pull away and he needed more, that you were already completely wrecked for him. You weren't even conscious of the fact that you were now fully seated in his lap, sandwich wrappers and empty cans long pushed aside. 
Part of you wanted to wait, to let things build up organically over time and get physically intimate when the moment felt right. But fuck it, the moment felt right now. 
Any apprehension or worry of scaring him off dissipated when his thumb ran across your cheekbone, his other strong arm holding you steadily against him, you don't think you could wiggle away if you tried. Swirling in your apprehension you also fought the urge to press your hips down into his and grind against him harder. You wanted to let him take things at his pace and not rush anything, but fuck you could feel his cock getting hard between your legs and it was driving you insane. 
He dragged the knuckle of his middle finger up your neck along the curve of your jaw, speaking softly into your kiss, "can I kiss you here?" pressing his touch into the side of your neck.
"You can do anything you want to me," you pant back, slightly embarrassed at how desperately horny that came out.
"Fuck," he groaned out, cock noticeably twitching against his black jeans and into your thigh, "you can't say shit like that to me."
"Sorry, sorry," you try to gain your composure and lift off him slightly, “I-"
He took a hold of your waist and pulled your back down into his lap, diving into the side of your neck and nipping and sucking until he found the spot that made you squeeze your thighs slightly around him. "Anything I want requires a lot more time and space than we have right now, pretty girl." He mumbled into your neck in between kisses, his words making your back arch slightly more into him. "Plus I need to be a gentleman," you rolled your eyes at this. 
"Since when have you ever worried about that," you tug his hair back to force him to look at you.
"You really want to know what I want, right now?" he quirked an eyebrow.
"Really, really," you let your weight sink down onto his lap a touch more, feeling the stiff length under his jeans slot between your thighs a bit deeper, making his breath hitch before he could respond. 
"I want you to lay back on those blankets up there," he nodded towards the few crumpled up blankets he had shoved behind the driver's seat, "and let me eat your pretty pussy until you're screaming loud enough for the people across the lake to hear."
Whatever you were expecting, it wasn't that. 
This unexpected burst of sexual confidence threw you for a loop, as you were fully prepared to be the one making all the big moves. Your mouth hung open slightly, struggling to form a response when all that was swarming through your mind was holy fuck, holy fuck, that was so hot, what the fuck do I say. 
Rather than respond with words you just roll off his lap and start moving deeper into the back of his van, propping your torso up on bent arms and sending him back a suggestively raised eyebrow. He swung his legs up over the ledge and took one of the doors with him, sliding into the van and quickly shutting the other as well. 
It took a second for your eyes to adjust, the previous sunlight coming in from across the lake was cut off, and the light source now was only coming from the front windows, making things darker but not invisible. You quickly had no trouble making out Eddie's slender form shuffling around and getting situated in between your bent knees, urging you to lay back a bit more and relax as much as your body would allow against the lumpy blanket pile. 
"This is okay?" he asks while leaning down to pick up where you had left off a moment ago. 
"Yes, fuck," you wiggle up into his form, wanting as much contact as he would allow, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down into your lips. 
It all had moved faster than you were used to but fuck if it didn't feel so right. Why did you feel more comfortable with this person you hardly knew than you had with your past few long term relationships? He just had this way of taking your nerves and throwing them out the nearest window. 
After sucking on your lower lip until it was puffy and slick he dips his chin into the crook of your neck, dragging his perfect nose up your jugular and nestling into the junction of your neck and ear, licking a stripe all the way. You wanted to desperately buck your hips up into his, but only allowed yourself half the satisfaction of lifting your thigh slightly to give him more space to sink deeper into your slumped form. 
When Eddie’s life flashed before his eyes, on more than one occasion- actually- he wasn’t particularly satisfied with what he saw. In the moments before what he assumed was death, his brain searched for the best moments to accumulate and reminisce on before his body succumbed to the untimely demise he was facing. It wasn’t much. 
He wished he had more than smiling moments with his D&D club, a few killer performances at the Hideout, no killer audiences, some nights of revelry with his friends, and a few forgettable hookups in dingy bar bathrooms. That couldn’t be it, right?
In the wake of his life flashing, fading, and flashing again, he made more space for good things. After his shows now he let himself think about you, and how much he liked you, let himself try his hand at flirting. Because if he was going to come anywhere that close to death again, he needed more to show for it than a few trysts with nameless girls and an unnerving amount of scar tissue. 
So he wasn’t about to fuck this up. If someone came at him with an axe tomorrow, at least he’d have the memory of you splayed out beneath him in the back of his van, lips shiny and cheeks rosy. If his life were to flash before his eyes again it wouldn’t be as bad.  
“Do you know how long I’ve thought about this?” he mumbled into your neck, his denim clad thigh pressing perfectly in between your legs. You could only hum back as if to say, “no, tell me.”
“I think you do know,” his teeth grazed upon your earlobe, sending a jolt through your hips and finding solace in the friction between your thighs with his.
“Yeah, I know,” you breathe out, arching your neck down to nudge the tip of his nose with yours, “do you?”
“I didn’t have a clue,” he mumbled into your lips before slipping his tongue against yours, sickly sweet and laced with all the regret of not asking you out sooner. 
You let your ankles hook around one another, locking your hips together and earning a deep rumble of a moan from the man trapped. “I recall you mentioning something about the people across the lake hearing me…” you playfully trail off, equal parts confidently flirty and deeply desperate for him to act on his earlier promise. 
He had nudged his way down into the neckline of your shirt, licking and nipping at as much of your breasts as he could find, fingertips grazing the waistline of your pants. Part of you wanted to just lay here and let him have his way with you, but the conscious part of your brain recognized the insecurities he expressed in that conversation you weren't supposed to hear, and signaled you to be as forward with him as you could be. 
“Fuck,” you struggled to pry your hands between your pressed bodies to reach your jeans button, “Eddie can I take these off, I want to feel you.” 
With your hands moved south, you managed to undo the clasps of your jeans while also running your hands upwards towards his shirt, wanting to feel the skin beneath. 
It was subtle, but impossible for you to miss, when your fingertips grazed his lower stomach and trailed up his t-shirt his body shifted into a tense state for just a moment. You could have easily missed it. It took all of a millisecond for him to subtly jerk away from you and redirect the attention to your now unbuttoned pants. His hands were dragging the material down your thighs before you had a moment to register the way he averted your touch. 
He playfully tossed your bunched up pants over his shoulder, as if they had anywhere else to go other than the three feet of van between him and the doors. After that flashed moment of shyness, you noticed nothing but a playful smirk on his face, smile crinkled at the corners of his cheeks and eyes full of wild mischief. 
His hands spread against your thighs, digging his fingertips into as much skin as the width of his palms would allow. 
“So fucking perfect,” he drank you in, hardly noticing the moment you pulled your shirt and bra over yourself, but dumbstruck as soon as his eyes caught sight of your reveal.
Knowing he had yet to put his money where his mouth was, he adjusted downwards and let his flushed cheek make contact with your thigh. In that moment he vowed to let the sight of the little damp patch in the center of your cotton panties stay forever in his mind. 
He didn’t let a single thought register in his brain before he leaned forward and let his tongue lick a fat strip up the middle of your clothed center, adding dampness to the apparent arousal already there. 
“Jesus,” you were slightly taken aback at his action, letting your head fall back, while still lowering your gaze down to where his hooded lids and pink tongue sat in between your thighs.
He reveled in the feeling of being between your thighs, letting his tongue play around the center of your panties for a few strokes before the twitching in your legs signaled that you had had enough of his teasing. 
Taking a blissful moment to hook his finger through the crotch piece of your underwear and pull it to the side to reveal your slick center, he simply couldn’t help himself. He pulled back and drank the sight of you in, panties wet with your arousal and his spit pulled to the side and your perfect cunt finally in his sights. 
The groan he let out only tripled your level of neediness for him. You let your chest puff up and hips gyrate forward at nothing to signal that you needed him, like, now.
Before you could even think of something snarky to say to get him to get on with it, his entire face was fully buried in you. An involuntary ahhh escaped you as he let his entire tongue press as far into you as space would allow. 
“Ohmygod,” all coming out in one breath, “fuckeddie.” 
He groaned deeply into you at the feeling of your pussy on his mouth, your taste, how your hips twitched slightly when his nose pressed against your clit. He didn’t even think about all those drunken chats with the boys or stupid cosmo articles he couldn't help but read, eating your pussy didn’t require any thought, he could only feel. 
Your sighs were like a song to him, every sharp inhale and subtle whimper, he caught it all and it was the most beautiful music. He let his tongue swirl faster when he heard your breath hitch, gripped your thigh tighter when you let out that beautiful exhale. 
“So fucking good for me,” he mumbled into your inner thigh in between licks, fully pussy drunk and ready to stay here forever, “fucking perfect.”
After some selfish exploration, he settled on a steady rhythm against your clit, making your back arch and whines jump an octave. 
“Eddie, Eddie,” you groaned, feeling embarrassed how needy your voice already sounded, “can you use your fingers too, please.” Desperate. That’s how you felt, and you couldn't help but be self conscious for any more than a moment, as he immediately headed your request. 
Guitar fingers. You fucking knew it. You always found him attractive and charming, but immediately scolded yourself the moment you started speculating about those damn fingers. If he could learn Metallica solos in private, what else could he do?
Curling upwards in that magically delicious motion that had you already seeing stars, he glanced up at you upon entering and was met with the glorious sight of your mouth hanging open and eyes fluttering shut. 
You simply couldn’t be bothered by the rickety van floor beneath you, the sad lumpy pillow propped under your head, or the stagnant, vaguely cigarette scented air around you. Nope. No thoughts other than the tightening knot in your stomach and how those pretty brown eyes peered up through too-perfect lashes at you in between sinful strokes. 
“Making me feel so fucking good,” you hardly recognized your voice as your own, “please don’t stop, Eddie, please…”
And there it was, euphoric bliss found in the back of a pot dealing metalhead’s van. Your thighs quivered and your brain lost all capacity for thought. All you could feel was the sudden wash of pleasure, the pulsing between your legs, and the tongue and fingers fucking into you as if it was the last thing he ever did. 
Writhing, trying to keep your moans down despite his verbalized promise for them to be heard far and wide, you try to control the jerk of your hips and grip on his hair. You rode out your orgasm, far sooner than you would have liked. You wanted to revel in it. 
After months of relentless flirting and suppressing your attraction to him, you wish you could have held your orgasm off a while longer. You simply couldn't allow yourself to bask in the velvet of his tongue or the tickle of his bangs on your thighs. You needed it too badly to hold off. 
Coming down from your orgasm, a broken moan cracked from you and let him know to slow his roll. In between catching your breath you catch a view of him sucking your release off of his slick fingers, and almost throw yourself at him, beg him to jump your bones. But all you can do is let out a breathy laugh and find the strength to prop yourself up on your elbows to get a better look at him. 
“You come?” he asks, slight snark to his voice.
You muster up the energy to bop him upside the head and ruffle his hair along the way. “Fuck off,” you respond, still breathless, “you know I did.”
“I know,” he cocks his head, still admiring your form, your flushed face and rise and fall of every breath, “It’s polite to ask, though.”
“Ah yes, Eddie Munson, most polite man I know,” you flop back onto the mismatched pillows.
“Hey!” he pretends to sound offended but only manages to tug at your heartstrings, “I’ll have you know, that I am a delight.” 
“Can’t argue with that,” you reach down to feel your dripping folds before hunching forward to search for your underwear, which haven't traveled too far from his knees on the van floor.  
You wanted to return the favor, do more than return the favor, but something about his shift in demeanor and the way he angled his body away from yours slightly to adjust his hard cock in his pants and keep up the too-casual post-orgasm conversation had you thinking it was more than him being too polite to accept your advances. 
“Shit, what time is it,” he begins to shuffle towards the front of the van to check the time while you awkwardly gathered your clothes and redressed, fully assessing that whatever fooling around in the back of this van you were doing was officially over. 
“I, uh, have a few errands to run,” he sounded apologetic, not like he was making some excuse to get you out of his hair, “I can drop you off, or you can come along for the ride…”
There is was, your affirmation that he was just as desperate to hang onto this moment together as you were. 
“I actually have a shift starting pretty soon,” you regrettably admit, “and as much as I’d love to ditch it and be your passenger princess, the Saturday tips are usually the bulk of my rent money so…” 
He understood, he hated how much he understood. 
“What time do you get off?” He didn’t even try to hide how eager he was to see you again, again in ten minutes, again later tonight, again tomorrow, again as many times as you’d let him. 
“Get off? Pretty sure I did that like three minutes ago…” you joke and appreciate his huff of a laugh, “Um, I’m closing, so probably not until like two or three. Don’t worry though, I can give you my number and we can do this again when we’re both free.”
“I’m free later… at two,” his expression was dead serious, “or three, or four, or whenever.” He noticed your brows shoot up and words start to form in your mouth, before you could speak he cuts in, “If you won’t be too tired or anything. I can pick you up?”
“It’ll be pretty late Eds,” you were falling into the trap of his puppy dog eyes, “you don’t need to wait up for me like that, I promise we can see each other again, tomorrow even…”
“Tell me to fuck off if I’m being pushy,” he took your hand in his and mindlessly stroked circles into it with his thumb, “but I’m sort of a night owl, not big on the whole sleeping thing anyways, and I’d love to pick you up from work later.”
“Okay,” you agree, the soft earnestness of his voice snared you, and considered the magic he had just worked between your legs, who were you to say no. The glimmer in his eye and quirked smile at your response had you wishing you had said more than ‘okay,’ wondering what kind of look you would have gotten from a ‘yes, please,’ or ‘I’d love that.’
He drove you back to his trailer, not letting go of your hand during the ride, not even to turn up the music at his favorite parts. He offers to follow you back to your place, insisting that waiting for you to shower and change into work clothes and then drop you off at the Hideout was “on the way” to these supposed errands he had to run. 
You roll your eyes but start to accept that this is the kind of guy Eddie is, insincerity undetectable when he makes these offers. You invite him in, but he opts to wait outside with a cigarette, pacing a bit and then forcing his legs and mind to still by waiting in the drivers seat. 
“Hey hot stuff,” he wolf whistles as you exit your apartment, dressed in your usual black shirt and jeans for work, apron balled up in your bag to put on once you arrive. 
He’s sweet, and sincere. As much as you liked the jab banter between the two of you at the bar, you think you might prefer his sarcastic jokes mixed with sweet compliments and longing gazes more. Not that you weren’t getting that from him at the bar before, there were plenty of longing gazes there too, but now the shared glances are heavy with the knowledge of what his tongue feels like on your cunt. 
A sloppy, exaggerated kiss on the cheek and a ‘go get ‘em tiger’ sends you off into the bar, where your hands will be pouring cheap liquor for the next several hours but your mind will be solely occupied with what your post-work date with Eddie entails. 
The drink special of the night was a mix of anxious anticipation and lustful yearning, shaken too aggressively and served with sunsteady hands. Luckily the Saturday rush kept you mostly focused on vodka sodas and Guinness pours, wiping down sticky surfaces and making change for impatient customers. 
You had assistance behind the bar, and that also meant assistance closing up, finally allowing yourself to start peeking through the window to see if Eddie held up on his promise. Of course he had. He’d been waiting in the lot, scoring a few sales from exiting patrons who knew him previous deals, since long before the bar closed. 
You wipe your sweaty palms onto your apron and ball it up into your bag before bounding across the parking lot towards Eddie, who always seems to have this effortless charisma buzzing around him, a cigarette dangled from his pretty lower lip and posture just slouched enough to still be sexy. Maybe you were biased at this point. 
He pulls you in by your waist, angling his chin up to blow the smoke up into the sky rather in your direction. 
“How was work?” Your cheeks were already starting to grow hot at the feeling of his pinky finger landing on the strip of skin between your shirt and jeans, “Miss me?”
“Bartending’s a lot easier when I don’t have your nosy ass pestering me for free drinks,” you cock your head at him, silently asking for a drag of his cigarette, which he immediately understands and complies, “wasn’t too bad though, happy it’s over,” you exhale. 
“If you’e hungry there’s some fries and a milkshake by the passenger’s seat,” he let you slip from his grasp to spin around towards the van door.
“For me?” you peek through the window, realizing he didn’t just mean extras from his dinner earlier, he had gone out of his way to pick you up a post-work snack.
“Unless you aren’t hungry,” he moves to hop in the drivers side, “In which case you can practice tossing fries into my open mouth while I drive.”
You let a few fries fly across the car seat in his general direction, feeding him the occasional one directly, but inhaling most of them shortly after you peeled out of the parking lot. 
“D’you want me to bring you home, or…” you knew where he was headed with this, a nervous edge to his voice. 
“We can hang out back at your trailer if that’s okay,” you say mid-fry, “as long as I can take a quick shower I don’t mind chilling there.”
He grins like a giddy schoolgirl and grips the steering wheel just a touch tighter, and drives just a bit faster back to the trailer park. As anxious as you felt during your shift, you can’t be bothered to overthink with Eddie leaning towards you with his tongue lolling out of his mouth, making googly eyes at the shake you were downing as his way of asking you for a sip. 
He put the van into park before the wheels had even come to a complete stop, hustling around the front to make sure he was the one to open your door. He had spent some of the time you were away straightening up his trailer for the first time in a good long while. Empty beer cans were cleared and he even changed the bed sheets. It still wasn’t the Ritz or anything, but at least he can say he tried.
He tried to busy himself with locking the door behind you after entering, not wanting to see if your eyes drifted over to the mess of records and smoking pariphenelia that cluttered the coffee table, or the chance that the mixture of heavy metal and nerdy posters strewn about would draw a judgmental reaction. 
When he let his gaze drift back to you, you weren’t looking at any of that. You were looking right back at him, already leaning up on your toes and asking, “Can I kiss you again?” 
A mumbled “of course” had you wrapping your arms around his neck and melting into his touch, finding his lips already on yours before you could go in for the kill. 
The kiss started off French-fry-and-strawberry-shake flavored, smiling into his lips as the anticipation of seeing him again after only a few short hours slips away. 
“Thank’s for spending so much time with me today,” you whisper in between sticky sweet kisses, “and for the fries and-“
He took your cheeks in his hands and smushed your lips into his mid-sentence, pulling back to see the puckered fish face he held between his hands. 
“You’re welcome,” his big button eyes bore straight through you, as if he saw all of you and more, “but you don’t have to thank me, I like being with you, and I ended up eating most of the fries anyways,” he trails off, cheeks rosy and lips slick from your claim on them.
“You wanted to shower?” He cuts himself off, and feels stupid for it. He knew he could keep kissing you and kissing you and kissing you, and the only thing holding him back was his anxious brain and big mouth. 
“Oh, yeah,” you were a little surprised that he remembered, and chose to bring it up now, “if you don’t mind. I always feel a little sticky after work, you know, with the Hideout’s C health rating and all.”
With a smile that nearly knocked the air out of you, he took a deep bow like some silly court jester and motioned down the trailer’s only hallway. You took your lead and followed his outstretched arm, figuring there were only so may doors that could possibly lead to a bathroom. 
“Oh, shit, wait,” you hear him scramble behind you, shuffling past into the door you assume to he his bedroom, emerging milliseconds later with a crumpled towel in his balled up hand, “you’re gonna want this.”
“Thank you,” you’re slow with your movements, wondering how he was acting so squirrelly, like a middle school boy around the girl he wanted to take to the dance, even though he had you fully spread out begging for him in the back of his van only hours earlier, “is the shower big enough for two?”
You meant it equally suggestive and genuine, knowing full well that not all showers are built for partner bathing. However, the fear stricken look that washed across his face for a millisecond before scrunching up and setting to neutral had you thinking you had just asked if there was a built in hot tub or something like that. His mouth hung open and for a moment that conversation you weren’t supposed to hear replayed in your mind, maybe you had to take this slower than he was willing to let on. 
“Just looking for someone to massage my scalp, that’s all,” you try to jokingly play it off, keeping your invitation open but concealing it with a joke to double back on just in case.
“Yeah, it’s- uhhh,” Eddie, who was always quick with a comeback was suddenly lost for words, “It’s the size of a normal shower, yeah.” It’s not like he could lie, all you had to do was turn around and size it up for yourself. 
You take the towel from his white knuckled grip and pivoted towards the door that was close to having burn holes from where his laser focused eyes were shot. You give him a wink over your shoulder, figuring that was enough of an invitation and vague enough of an excuse for him to leave depending on what he wanted. You hated this line you were towing, knowing more than you should- yet still feeling so in the dark. 
He was right, it was a normal sized shower. A bathtub with a sliding door and a detachable shower head with only one working setting. There was a rack with three-in-one and a bar of dove soap, which should have annoyed you but made you giggle instead. You let a quarter sized drop of the generic body wash slash shampoo slash conditioner lather into your hands when you heard the bathroom door creek open, purposefully left unlocked. 
“Hey, is it okay I’m in here?” He sounded so genuine in his concern, unknowing you were on the verge of begging him to get in the shower with you. 
“Yeah,” you borderline shout over the running water, “here to help massage my scalp?” You let your tone stay light and joking despite being deadly serious. 
“Wow I didn’t realize your hands were really that delicate and incapable,” he tried to match your energy, but an anxious edge remained present. 
“I mean,” you searched for your words, “I’ve seen you play Metallica, I know those fingers could surely get this pine scented crap deep into my roots.” You let the suggestive comment linger, nervous after a beat of silence passed. 
“If you really need my help,” you heard him shuffling around , “who am I to turn a damsel in distress away?”
You felt your cheeks get rosy and shoulders wiggle with excitement as you caught the shower door jerk open. Your face was towards the shower head, and you only turned a quarter of the way around before Eddie stepped in behind you and those guitar-string-calloused-hands gripped your shoulders and twisted you back towards your view of the water stream. 
“I’m gonna make you a deal,” his voice was coated with as much charisma as he could muster, his worries only poking through enough for you to notice, “I’ll give you the full treatment, but you can’t turn around.”
You were willing to play along with about any game he suggested. If he asked you to bend over backwards you’d extend your spine as far as it could go. 
You stood with your front as straight towards the shower head as you could, only feeling his presence behind you and his gentle hands lay on your shoulders to assure you wouldn’t turn around. 
“Just let me take care of you,” he edged closer, letting you feel his naked body enter your space, his face craning over your shoulder to gauge your reaction, “Just stay like this and let me feel you.”
It was less of a question and more of a plea, the only thing more pathetic sounding was the whimper that slipped out of you when you felt his body press against your back, warm and hesitant to press all the way into you, but close enough for you to feel his skin. 
“Okay,” you let your head lull back onto the space between his collar bone and shoulder, keeping your eyes closed, not that you could see anything from this angle anyways, “I’ll stay just like this, promise.”
“I just-“ you could hear his walls come up, suddenly trying to find the words to explain himself to you, “I’m not-“
“Eddie,” you whisper, eyes fluttering open to glance up at him as much as you could, “it’s okay. I’ll stay just like this, I’m just happy to be here with you.”
You gently found his hands resting at your hips and guided them up to your soapy scalp, “We both know the real reason I called you in here anyways,” you joked, and angled your head straight forward so he could run the pads of his fingers all through your 3-in-1 coated hair.
He let out a light chuckle at your joke, nearly feeling it catch in his throat as all the passed time of insecurity and locking his feelings away welled up and shattered with the intimacy of washing your hair. What did he do to deserve having you like this? For you to understand and want him to stay anyways? 
As much as his emotions clouded his vision and stunted his breathing, the rush of blood in between his legs broke his internal monologue. As overwhelmed as his mind was, his body couldn’t be convinced to focus on anything other than the sudsy girl pressed up against him, letting out little noises of satisfaction as he let his fingers absentmindedly massage away. 
“This’s nice,” you lean back into him a bit, “it’s like masturbating, you know? Always feels better when someone else does it for you.” You didn’t feel too guilty about the sexually charged comment, considering the fat rod that was pushing into your lower back. 
He let out a short chuckle, but his breathing was rapidly turning heavy as the air clouded with steam and your wet body rubbed against him, fully arching into his erection as if you wanted to get a better feel. 
“Can I wash the rest of you?” his request is polite, but his voice is lust filled and bordering on begging. 
You hum in agreement and lift your arms to let him slip his hands around you, one crossing your chest and the other reaching around to get more gel, “It technically is shampoo and body wash, and I was promised the full treatment here.” 
As much as you wanted to keep joking with him, finding silly things to comment on to break the tension, your resolve was quickly going down the drain as his big hands lathered you up. 
“You’re so beautiful,” his voice is just audible over the rushing of the shower water, “I’ve always thought so, but now I fucking know it.” 
His warm breath against your ear manages to cut through the heat of the steam, making you shiver despite it all. “Eddie,” you whine, his hands running up and down your torso, spending more time on your chest than the rest, but surely showering you in as much attention as his hands could reach.
Knowing that tone from earlier, already committing to knowing your body as intimately as you’ll allow him to, he immediately gives in and touches you exactly where you want him most. 
Most of the bubbles had dissipated, and he held you close to him, with one hand splayed across the center of your chest and the other dipping down to run two fingers through your now parting legs. 
He could feel the slick of your folds, standing out from the water cascading down your body, so warm and wet in a different way. 
“Fucking hell,” he groans out, letting his hips roll forwards slightly to find some friction against your backside, sliding his fingers from your hole up to your clit a few experimental times before letting his middle and ring fingers dip into you. 
When he had gone to town on you earlier in his van, which somehow felt like a million light years ago, you had taken a keen interest to the way his metal rings brushed up against your inner thighs and lower lips when he slipped his digits into you. As much as you had reveled in that new sensation, he had taken all his jewelry off along with the rest of his clothes and reservations before joining you in the shower. And now you could grind down onto his hand until he was completely buried to the hilt of his knuckles, no demon heads or upside down crosses in your way.
You wanted to wiggle and writhe around, feeling a bit week in the knees and desperate to buck your hips down against his pumping fingers. He pressed your chest tighter against him, lips pressed up against your ear, “I thought you promised to be good and stay still for me.”
He could feel your pussy clench at that, letting out a satisfied chuckle and  plunging his fingers right back into your cunt, letting the meat of his palm massage your clit in perfect time. 
“S’ this what you wanted,” his voice had the full bodied confidence of a man who didn’t just ask you to not turnaround to see him without a shirt on, “for me to be all sweet and wash your hair, then make you cum on my fingers like the dirty girl I know you are?” 
The smallest fraction of you wanted to be a brat and joke back at his silly use of shower innuendo, but your mind was almost entirely committed to the feeling of his hands on you and his dick rutting Into the meat of your ass.
“Eddie,” you could barely squeak his name out, “Eddie, can I touch you too, please? Please?” While his voice had been pleading before, you were literally begging to get your hands on him. 
“Like this,” you manage to open your eyes, head still resting against his shoulder and your hand snaking back to where his cock pressed into you, not fully grabbing it but motioning towards it with your hand. 
He snatches your wrist up with the hand not occupied with your tightening pussy, and for a second you fear that you had crossed a boundary. 
As much as you were willing to comply with not looking, you were bursting at the seams to touch him, make him feel good, show him how much you wanted to be right here with him and nowhere else. 
Before your mind could race any further, come to a screeching halt and apologize, he guides your hand up underneath your chin and demands “Spit.”
Your short circuiting brain dashes from his fingers, remaining crooked inside of you, his request, and the tone of voice he used to ask. You were fucked. Drool leaks from your lips before you even have the chance to process his words other than the immediate feeling of oh fuck yes. 
He brings your spit coated hand back to reach around, allowing you to wiggle it in between your wet bodies and find his eager cock already arching into your touch. 
He only faltered for a moment, the consistent dizzying pace of his fingers inside you stuttered the moment he felt your slick palm take an experimental stroke. The moan he let out was involuntary, along with a breathy “Oh, shit.”
Obviously you couldn’t size him up visually, but the weight of him in your palm was enough to have your mouth watering and thighs squeezing his wrist a bit tighter. Uncut? Maybe? With a pretty patch of curls to match his mop top? 
“Just like that, please,” you whine out into the steamy air, the two of you finding a joint rhythm between your hands and subtly rolling hips. 
“Your pussy feels so fucking good, so warm and tight for me,” every other word slurred into the curve of your neck. 
“You’re gonna make me cum,” you try and match his increasing speed with your hand, “Eddie, please don’t stop, I’m-“
“Shhhh,” he was getting lost in it too, “I’ve got you.”
Your legs turn to jelly, but he keeps you steadily upright with his support on your chest, focusing entirely on you despite the welling orgasm of his own rapidly approaching. 
It’s the crack in your voice that pushes him forward, the high pitched breathy moans crumbling and releasing the noises of pleasure from deep within your chest. His name  mixed in with ahhhs and uhhhs as if his name is the only word you know in this moment. 
“That’s right,” a sense of confidence welled in him as your limp body twitched against his and your cunt squeezed his relentless fingers, “cum all over my hand, doing so good for me.”
Despite your orgasm wracking your brain and body succumbing completely to whatever Eddie was willing to give you, the thought of collapsing into the shower floor never crossed your mind. He held you so close and steady against his chest, it crosses your mind that you may not be putting any weight onto your feet at all by this point. 
Rather than catch your breath as you come down from your quaking orgasm, you slip deeper into the throws of pleasure, biting your lip and craning your neck backwards so he can see the fucked out expression on your face. A few more steady, enthusiastic pumps mixed with a desperate kiss, wet and at an awkward angle, breathless and needy, perfect and dizzying, sends Eddie over the edge with you.
The deep rumble of his chest against your back as he groans into your open mouth, encourages you to keep your pace as he gently fucks himself into your hand. He’s spilling into your hand and halting his wiggling fingers buried inside you, letting the momentum that the two of you had built up come to a pulsing end. 
The two of you stay tangled in each other for a moment, hands sticky and brows dewy with sweat despite the running water, which had long lost its heat and now settled at a less than comfortable lukewarm. Neither one of you wanted to move. Eddie would have stayed there until his legs cramped and the shower turned ice cold. 
His eyes were screwed shut, head tilted back, still holding you close until you wiggled from his iron grip to bring your cum covered fingers up to your lips to suck two of them clean. 
“Jesus Christ,” he was thankful that he had opened eyes in enough time to witness that, “You’re gonna fuckin’ kill me, you know that?”
You let out a mischievous giggle with his cum coated fingers still in your mouth, glancing over your shoulder to catch the look on his face. Equal parts hungry to pick you up and fuck you against the shower wall right now, and melting down to nothing and slipping away down the drain, unable to even start comprehending what had just transpired between you two. 
You let your fingers go with a pop and turn back around, “Don’t act like you weren’t going to do the same,” you let the chilling water hit your face, focusing on anything other than turning around and lunging at him, wrapping your body around his and letting your skin melt into his. 
He gives into temptation and lets his pruny fingers meet his tongue. He knew what you tasted like from your escapade in his van eaierler, but he’d seize any change he got to take in as much of you as he could. 
“That was,” he started, unsure how to sum how he felt, good, great, perfect, none of those words felt correct, “fuck, yeah- that,”
“Me too,” you press your back into his again, “Thank you Eddie.”
Before he can stumble over his words any more, you ask if he’s okay for you to shut the water off, and you ask if he’d be willing to spare some sleep clothes for you to borrow. You curiously stay in the shower while he takes your excuse for him to leave unseen. 
After toweling off and slipping into the old t-shirt and boxers he left folded up on the counter for you, you found him already dressed and in bed, set criss cross and packing a bong. 
“Post-shower-orgasm smoke, cuddle, then sleep?”
“I’d love nothing more,” you get cozy among the pillows and let the swirling smoke and easy conversation lull you into a comforting half sleep. 
An easy energy settled between the two of you, a silent understanding that you weren’t going to ask him questions, and a building comfort that made him almost ready to show you. 
You slept tucked into his side, and didn’t even mind his snoring or tossing in the night. Every time he rolled over, your sleeping form just found a new way to mold into him. It was the best he had slept in months. 
A steady stream of sunlight blazing directly through the blinds and into your eyes pulled you from your slumber, gorging your groggy eyes to open and crunched up limbs to search for room to stretch. The involuntary fluttering of your eyes and long extension of your libs was far beyond your control. 
“Oh!” You whisper out to yourself once your brain manages to catch up with your waking body, realizing the somewhat compromising position the night had thrown you into, your leg hiked up and clinging to Eddie’s waist, with both your arms scrunching up his t-shirt and leaving a strip of stomach exposed. 
A negligible, unnoticeable few inches between where his sweatpants hung low on his hips and where your gripping arms had balled up his hole-ridden t-shirt stood before your gaze. 
You didn’t mean to stare, and the moment you caught yourself doing so, you quickly and quietly removed your tangled limbs from his and repositioned yourself so that he was half spooning you, eyes facing far away from his unintentionally exposed scar tissue. 
You knew it was probably going to be worse than you were expecting. You hadn’t dedicated much thought to what it could be, or what maybe had happened. You just knew it made him feel like he wasn’t worth your time, and you needed to make him feel seen and safe enough to know that that couldn’t be true. 
Everyone has insecurities, sure. There are surely parts of yourself you weren’t eager to share with the world, let alone someone you’re romantically interested in. You had moved past being astonished that someone who wore gaudy costume jewelry and sang boisterous music for a bar of twelve patrons with the energy of someone who had sold out Madison Square Garden would ever shrink into their shell the way you had seen Eddie. Now, laying in his bed and knowing that whatever it was, the scars were more than what was on his skin.
“Mfffmmm,” he groans and shifts behind you, wiggling beneath the sheets and snaking his arms to wrap around your waist and pull you close into him, “This is nice.”
His morning voice was scratchy and barely above a whisper. 
“I think you just like that my butt is all pressed up on you,” you joke, dodging admiring that you’d rather be here than anywhere in the world in this moment. 
“Yeah, I’m not complaining,” he digs his nose into the side of your neck, “But you smell nice too, ’s nice to wake up to.”
“That 3-in-1’s really doing it for ya?”
“No, you do smell like that a little, but more just like yourself. Girl smell.”
“I’ll get started on that perfume line right away. Girl Smell. Might be a million dollar business venture.”
“I just woke up,” the sleep in his voice melted away and his hands running up and down your sides were more deliberate, “Don’t make fun of me. Plus I’ve got a pretty girl in my bed making me all nervous.”
“Anyone with magic fingers like you has nothing to be worried about,” you keep the conversation playful but allow the unspoken truth, that he truly has nothing to worry about with you, be spoken.
“You just like ‘em cuz I washed your hair so well,” he plays with a strand, letting his finger pads dig into your scalp and scratch away, massaging a bit harder after you let out a satisfied groan.
“You must have lots of practice,” you reach an arm back blindly and half smack the side of his shoulder before finding his messy bedhead, staying resolutely facing the poster-covered wall. 
“You’ve got really pretty hair for a boy,” you let your finger wrap around a curl. 
“For a boy?! Excuse me, I have pretty hair period.”
“Yeah, suppose that’s true” you giggle at his joking defensiveness, “It’s incredible that it’s this nice considering you use the same thing to condition your hair as you do to wash your balls.”
“If you show me what kind of shower products you like I’ll replace the three in one,” he nuzzles his face into the hand playing with your hair, “but maybe the three in one is what’s keeping it so luscious.”
“I wanna wash your hair next time,” you say absentmindedly, meaning it wholeheartedly, with little anxiety after that you had implied a next time. 
“Yeah maybe next time,” his voice trailed off, still soft and flirty but edging on a tone that let you know this conversation was just about over. 
“Eddie,” it came out as hardly more than a whisper. You wait for him to respond but the gravity of the silence between you quickly became unbearable and you needed to break whatever tension this was. 
“I meant it yesterday when I said I wanted to go on more dates with you. You know that right?”
“Mhmm” he mumbles into your shoulder, still holding you against him.
“We have a lot of fun at the bar and stuff,” you search to find your words, “But I want you to know that I don’t just like you cuz you make me laugh and have magic guitar fingers. I like pretty much everything about you so far, and I want to know you more if you’ll let me.”
Your voice wavers, and your message is perhaps more vague than you would have liked, but the deep exhale he lets out conveys that he hears you loud and clear. 
“I know I’ve been…” he starts, “It’s just that I…”
“It’s okay Eddie,” you flip around, rolling so that your chests are pressed together and noses are almost touching, “I don’t want to push it. You can tell me when you’re ready, I just want you to know that I like you a whole lot and I don’t think there’s much that could change that right now.”
His eyelashes flutter shut, forehead touching yours, “Thank you.” 
“Unless you have a huge chest tattoo of something wildly offensive, or like a tramp stamp that says ‘I heart Ronald Regan.” He appreciates your natural ability to make him laugh even in situations like this. 
“Nah,” he pulls back and gives you a serious look, “Fuck Ronald Regan.” 
The two of you burst into a fit of giggles, rolling deeper into the sheets and settling into a comfortable cuddle again, with your head on his chest, face angled up to his and legs all tangled up.
Coming down from the beginnings of the conversation that had been lingering above both of your heads, you place a few reassuring kisses up his jaw and find your way up to his parted lips. 
“Mmmm,” he hums into the deepening kiss to signal you to stop, “I probably have mega morning breath,” he huffs into a cupped hand which makes you laugh and flop your head back into his chest.
“It’s okay, if you do then I do too and didn’t notice,” you peek back up at him, “But if you want to brush teeth and get your day started I won’t stop you.”
“No, no,” he grabs your cheeks and pulls you back up for a smushed kiss, “I wanna stay here all day with you, if you’ll let me. Our second date, we can order a pizza and watch movies here, won’t even have to put pants on.”
“That sounds really nice, I don’t have work today so I’m all yours.”
“All mine,” his grin reaches the apples of his cheeks, “I will go brush my teeth though, cuz I think this second date involves a lot of kissing.”
“Got a spare I could use?” you shuffle out of bed before situating yourself  on the edge of the bed, “Or do you brush with three in one too?”
“Oh my god,” he chuckles, “you with the three in one. After today I promise there will be three separate shower products stocked and ready for your use.”
He manages to find a spare toothbrush in the closet and keeps you wrapped in his arms while both of you take turns spitting into the sink. Looking at the two of you, eyes still crusty from sleep, in the scratched up bathroom mirror, a weird sense of domesticity washes over the two of you. 
Eddie realizes that less than 48 hours ago he was too nervous to make a move to kiss you, and now he was already thinking about making room for your toiletries in his bathroom. 
As comforting and easy it was to do normal everyday things with you at his side, he couldn’t help but notice your nipples poking through his oversized t-shirt you slept in and the way your toothpaste full mouth was framed by your perfect, spit slicked lips. 
“You got a spit kink or something?” You half joke, pressing your ass into the growing rod you could feel nudging against your side.
“Sue me,” he spits and wipes the corners of his mouth, pulling you by the waist into a minty kiss. “Bed? All day?”
“Mhmm,” you agree and lean in to kiss him again, standing on your toes and letting out a shriek of surprise when he scoops you up bridal style and travels the short distance to his bedroom. 
“Eddie!” You yelp out as he gently tosses you back into the pile of sheets. 
“I know I’m no Hulk Hogan, but moving guitar amps is pretty good strength and conditioning.”
“Shut up, you never help your friends carry the equipment.” You think of all the times you watched his poor bandmates lug their equipment after a show while he seamlessly flirted with you. 
“Not when you’re around, you’ve got me there.”
As promised the two of you laze around all morning, bowls of cereal in bed and a bowl of weed to accompany it, switching between fits of giggles and tangled in the sheets while a B horror movie plays on the little TV set propped up near the end of Eddie’s bed. 
He tells you about how he used to live with his Uncle in a trailer down the street until he saved up enough to start renting his own, the three attempts to finish high school and the relief when the local mechanic shop hired him despite his reputation around town as a satan worshiper. He talks a bit about his friends, some who’ve stayed in town and others who’ve long moved away. 
You listen attently, taking in every spared detail. In return he asks you about where you’re from, why the hell you had moved to a bumfuck town in Indiana to be a bartender. He assures you that you wouldn’t have liked him if you had known each other in high school and you laugh and tell him you were far from popular yourself. 
After inhaling a large pizza and running out of VHS tapes you demand a “post pizza bloated cuddle” to which he happily obliges.
“Wish we could do this every day,” he pulls you into him.
“Then we’d need a much bigger movie selection, and maybe body doubles to go do our jobs,” you don’t disagree, although lazy and uneventful the day felt perfect. 
“Don’t wanna go to work tomorrow,” he whines, holding you a little tighter.
“Me either, but we can’t be in this lazy cuddle bubble forever,” his hands came up to massage and scratch your scalp, which he now knew you loved, “but next time we’re both free maybe we can have that third date.”
“If I remember correctly, date three is when I finally get to kiss you,” he jokingly smooches behind your ear and down your neck. 
“Only if you behave,” you reply sarcastically, “you’ve been such a gentleman lately, but you’ve been pushing it mister.” 
“I’ve never been accused of being a gentleman before,” his voice trails off as he buries his nose into your neck, “Will you let me be a gentleman now, make you feel good?” His tone was suddenly dripping with lust, sending a rush of arousal through your already so-relaxed body. 
“Mhmm,” you agree and let your body mold back into his a bit more, pressing yourself against him and letting his hands start to wander.
You arch your neck around from your spooning position and search for his lips, your kiss starting out gentle but not staying that way for very long. 
“You’re just somethin’ else,” he breathes out in between heated kisses, his eyes big and round, earnest, making your heart swell.
“Can I make you feel good too?” you roll your hips into his erection, your breath catching in your throat when you feel it pulsing under his boxers and pressing into the space between your legs. 
You flip around to straddle him, not hiding your intention to grind yourself down onto his covered cock, moans from both of you interrupting the hungry exchange of tongues and lips.
A shaky breath grabs your attention and he finds the air to exhale out, “Can I fuck you?”
You bring your hands to his cheeks to pull him into a deep kiss, continuing to rock your hips against him, giving him words as well you mumble a “Fuck yes, please, please Eddie.”
He finds the hem of your shirt and slips it over your shoulders, the momentary break in kissing makes you whine. He immediately makes it up to you by paying delightful attention to your exposed chest, leaving sloppy wet kisses on every inch of skin he had access to, “fuck”s and “so perfect” breaking them up. 
You instinctively reach down in between the two of you to take his hard cock into your hand, still pressing your core against it, but taking the rest into your hand to stroke him over his boxers, the choked out moan that escapes him is the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You’re losing yourself in the feeling of his weight in your palm, sitting up to see his gorgeous fucked out expression, pinched eyebrows and flushed cheeks.
He swore he’d died and gone to heaven, despite all his sins, with you above him, lip tucked in between your grinning teeth as you rubbed up on him. Fuck, there was no going back after this.
You lean down to resume making out for a moment, missing the feeling of his nose pressed into the side of yours and his too-perfect eyelashes brushing the tops of your cheeks. 
“We can, um-“ you catch your breath, hips stuttering as you find your words, “I can turn around. Or we can make a blindfold or something.” 
His heart swelled at the thought that amidst fucking yourself against his lap you still had the courtesy to think of his comfort, his obvious insecurity, the elephant in the room that he was so desperately trying to shoo away. 
“I want you,” his voice strangely steady, “and I’ll let you have me, no stipulations.” 
You nod with a “Please.”
“Only because, I plan on fucking you every chance I get,” his tone makes you clench your thighs, “So we might as well rip this bandaid off now, because if you’re going to be my girlfriend I don’t want you worrying that I’m hiding something from you.”
He flips you over so you’re now laying beneath him, eyes still glassy with lust and mind swirling with the words he’s just let out.
“I’m gonna take off my shirt now, and I don’t want you to pretend like everything is fine, or that you don’t notice anything, because that’ll be a thousand times worse, okay? I know it’s bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but I know it’s not easy to look at.”
With that he pull this black t-shirt off by the back neck collar, and bares his soul to you. You can tell he’s examining your face for a reaction, very carefully managing your facial expressions for his benefit. 
He was right, it wasn’t easy to look at. Only because it made you wonder what horrible thing had happened to leave half of his torso, hip, thigh, and what you could only assume traveled onto his back as well, left entirely torn away and scarred. 
“And-“ he cut off your wandering eyes with his words, “Don’t ask what happened. I’ll tell you eventually I just- We can’t have that discussion if we’re about to have sex.” 
You nodded with understanding, you knew better than to ask. 
You think that your snooping and seed of knowledge helped hide some of your shock, his comment about missing a nipple dampening your realization that he was telling the truth, the scar tissue running so deep that his entire pec was covered in a jagged pink , slightly mishapen scar tissue, and leaving his opposite nipple to stand alone on his chest. 
The one thing that did leave you in a bit of shock was half of a tattoo on his hip that abruptly ended where the scar tissue started. Some sort of zombie head, the black ink lines all coming to a halt when’re his skin had been injured.
You let a tentative hand come up, fearing he’ll flinch away, but he doesn’t. You touch his chest, feeling the textural difference as you let your palm run across his chest and down to his hip. 
“You know, I still think you’re super hot, right?” You try to assure him, but he only lets out a dry chuckle. 
“I mean it,” you sit up a bit, pulling your hand from its exploration of his skin and bringing it to your own chest, using three fingers to cover your left nipple, “you’d still like me, right?” 
The softness in his face almost made you jump up to wrap him into a hug, you wanted him to know that everything was okay and he was safe with you, whatever happened was in the past and he didn’t have to worry. Although the moment was emotionally charged, neither of you could ignore the fact that you were both ravenously horny for each other. 
“I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide this from me,” you pull his face down to yours, “but I’m glad you showed me, because I’m so fucking ready for you to ruin me.”
He lurches forward and lets his body weight collapse down onto you, your legs widening to wrap around his hips, arm and legs locking him against you. 
Feeling his bare chest pressed against yours, lips on your neck and hips rutting into your spread legs, has your head spinning. 
“Please Eddie,” you whine, “let me feel you.”
Without missing a beat he shoves the waistband of his boxers down just enough to reach his thighs, hard dick springing free in the little space in between you, and he snatches your wrist and shoves it in between your bodies without unlatching his lips from your collar bone. 
“Oh fuck,” you couldn’t see what you were grasping, just like in the shower, but you didn’t dare push him off of you to catch a glimpse. He was all over you, hands tangled in your hair, groans and whimpers hardly making their way out in between the wet sloppy kisses he spread across your neck and chest. 
He slips a hand down your body, gracing your ribcage with his fingertips, a stark contrast to how they suddenly part your lips and rub the pool of slick from your hole up to your clit. 
“So wet, this for me?” He quirks and eyebrow and sinks a digit into you, causing your mouth to open and hips to wiggle up to ask for more.
“Yes ’s for you,” you breathe out, wanting to give him some pushback, wipe the smug look off his face, but not finding an ounce of courage to do so. You just let your head lull back and eyelids flutter shut as he curls his fingers perfectly inside you. “All for you.”
You use your free hand to push your underwear as far down your hips as this position will allow, not wanting to shift your focus from the feeling of him on your lips, his pulsing cock in your hand. 
“Need you,” you gasp out, partially at the feeling of his knuckle deep fingers buried inside of you, and equally the fucked out look on his face looming over yours, eyes blown wide and mouth parted on the verge of begging for more, “Eddie, need you to fuck me, please.”
He sits up and removes his fingers from you, earning a wince and a whine. He helps crunch your legs up to remove your panties, leaving your legs raised and crossed over one of his shoulders. He takes a moment to kiss your ankle and tenderly run his hands down the length of your leg. He took the moment to take off his own boxers, leaving you both bare in front of each other for the first time. 
“You’ve got a pretty cock,” you complement him earnestly, it was pretty. He gave you a halfhearted scoff and an eyeball in return. “No Eds, I mean it. It’s big too, good thing you got me ready with your fingers. That and I’ve been soaking wet for you for like 48 hours now, so it shouldn’t be a problem,” you giggle. His shy smile tells you he’s willing to take the compliment. 
You let your legs fall from their perch on his shoulder and fall to either side of his hips, opening yourself up to him. He’s staring, mouth half agape. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before, but to have you laid out like this before him, fully ready to give yourself over to him and wanting him wholly in return, how couldn’t he stare. 
You let your hand stroke up his cock, bringing his attention back to where the two of you nearly met. You angle him closer to you, you’re slowly pumping fist brushing against your own center. He snaps out of his trance and nudges your hand away, using his own grip to tap his thick cock against your opening. 
Tap, tap tap. His head meets your slick folds, hips jerking slightly with every tap.
“Don’t tease me Eds,” you push your hips forward and are only met with him rubbing his dick into the outside of your pussy, “want you inside, need it so bad.”
He want’s to be a bother and continue his teasing, watching your writhe and squirm, but he can’t find it in him to deny you, so he presses the tip in and gauges your face for a reaction, only finding babbling bliss and pleas for more. 
He’s sinking into you at an agonizing pace, craning down from his kneeling position above you to frame your head with bent arms and his lips on yours as you moan into each other’s mouths, him filling you more and more. 
Your hands are in his hair, keeping your foreheads anchored together, breathing in tandem. He finally sinks all the way down and you can feel it in your lungs. You wrap your ankles around his back and squeeze him into you tighter, not wanting him to move just yet, wanting to just feel how deep he filled you up for the first time. 
He lets out a shaky exhale and squeezes his eyes shut, “You were fuckin’ made for me,” he punctuates this with a subtle roll forward of his hips, lips falling into yours as if they had nowhere else to go. 
You let your legs fall back, unclasping his hips, and move your hands from his wild hair down to his thighs, pushing him to start fucking you. 
“Feel’s so fucking good,” you whisper into his mouth, your hands hardly assisting him anymore as he pumps in and out of your slick cunt, almost knocking the air out of you each time. 
He grabs your chin with the hand that’s not propping himself up, “look at me,” his pace doesn’t falter and your mind nearly turns to mush, “you’re mine now, yeah?”
“Yes Eddie,” it comes out as a broken sob, your eyes barely able to focus on him with how close he was, “all yours, only yours.” Your mind had barely made the decision to say the words before they had escaped your lips, a dumbfounded truth serum setting over you in your cock drunk state. 
You knew it to be true though, there was no going back after this, and you were willing to give yourself over fully, and accept anything he would give you. 
“Ahh, fuck” you let out after a particularly harsh thrust, fists now dripping the sheets beneath you. 
“So fucking good for me,” his hands now found purchase on your hips, setting a rhythm between you that only a musician could. 
Through glassy eyes you admire him. Curly bangs stuck to his forehead, frantically thrusting torso making his tattoos look like stop motion cartoons, and through it all the scars are hardly noticeable. If anything, they’re just another part of him, the person between your legs that you found incredibly sexy, insecurities and all. 
His perfect hands slid from your hips to your shoulders, now using the weight of your torso as leverage to fuck into you harder. His eyes bore into yours, searching for eye contact and finding your reassuring gaze that told him this was everything you wanted and more. 
“Yes, yes, oh fuck,” you babble out. His little grunts and whimpers send volts of electricity to your core and fog your mind with lust and desire.
He moves a hand down to meet your center, palm splaying across your abdomen and keeping you pinned to the bed, thumb methodically catching your clit with each thrust. He didn’t have to ask if it felt good, the rolling back of your eyes and mouth so wide he could see your molars were enough of an indication that he was headed in the right direction.
“Mhmmmm,” you could hardly form words, but smiled up through your fucked out gaze at him, wide beam and lust fulled eyes telling him that he couldn’t possibly be making you feel any better than you do right now. 
He leans back a bit, balancing himself on his thighs keeping his pace, thumb on your clit and eyes locked into yours. Through a groan he brings his unoccupied hand up to his face, biting down on the knuckle of his pointer finger, trying not to blow his load at the feeling of you squeezing around him. 
Of course, this only made him look hotter to you, and thus you flexed around his cock even tighter. 
Unexpectedly, he pulls out of you completely and before you can muster up the breath to complain, he’s dipped his lapping tongue against you. He fully buries himself into your cunt, cutting off the rhythm, of his cock with the somehow perfectly timed pulsing of his hungry tongue. 
You can’t help but cry out, arch your hips, and send a hand flying to his hair to ground yourself. Through frantic panting and wet slurping sounds you think you can make out a “just had to taste you.”
Completely breathless, you can hardly conjure a response before he’s plunging into you again, fucking into you deeply and capturing your parted lips into a passionate kiss.
Something takes over you, and you’re suddenly wrapping your legs around his hips and using some found momentum to flip the two of your over. Suddenly, you’re on top of him, his curls splayed around his pretty face and body laid flat beneath you. 
Before you had a moment to question yourself, you anchor your hands onto his shoulders and try your best to pick up the pace he had set earlier. Hips rolling and wet slapping sounds coming from between you. 
“Jesus- fuck,” he stuttered in his movements, unsure if he wanted his hands on your face or your tits or your hips or… they landed on your ass and he wouldn’t argue with his first instincts. 
“Eddie, I’ve wanted you like this for so long,” your words were breathy and mixed with lustful gasps, “always wanted to have you like this.”
“We could have done this a long time ago, huh?” He tries not to think about all the time wasted, and instead fantasies about all the making up for lost time you’ll do in the near future. 
“You were always giving me those eyes while you played with your band,” you looked angelic to him, face hovering above him, framed only be the poor overhead lighting and flickering VHS menu of the last film you’d finished, “I always wanted you, just wasn’t sure you wanted me like this too.”
Your statement was simple enough, but he knew what you meant. You wanted him more than a fuck, and that’s what he had been worried about all along. Now, to have you sunk down on his cock like this, telling him that you had been scared in the same way as he had, only made him roll his hops up into you and pull your cheeks down for a sloppy kiss to seal the deal. You were finally on the same page. 
Switching from a bounce of your hips, you lean back slowly and shift to more of a roll, keeping his cock buried deep inside of you while you gyrate your hips. Your arm extends back in between his spread legs to keep you stable, your torso finding its own rhythm in the midst of pleasure and fucking yourself onto his cock. 
“So fucking perfect,” he gasps out, hardly able to take in the sight of your body writhing and rolling above him. He manages to find bait of sense in his brain and brings his hand back to your lower stomach, thumb flicking over your clit with every thrust of your hips. 
“Oh,eddieohmygosh,” it came out as one breathy syllable, “pleasedon’tstopthat.”
He gently fucks himself up into you, matching your movements and not throwing you off of the sinful rhythm you’ve set, just managing too punctuate each bounce with the raise of his hips into yours and the increased pressure of his thumb on your clit. 
“Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he loves the way each breathy word out of your lips is matched with the beautiful bounce of your tits, “Eddie, you’re gonna-“
He doesn’t change a thing, the pressure on your clit, the arch of his hips, he would sooner die than rob you of pleasure or ruin this moment. Every moment he get’s to look at you, he thinks it’s the most beautiful you’ve ever looked, but he knows for sure that this one takes the cake. 
“Ahhh, I’m-“ you don’t  have to finish your statement for him to know you’re cumming on his cock, the pulsing squeeze of your walls and intense concentration from him not to bust on the spot, and rather to focus on the parting of your lips and the twitching of your hips on his. 
“That’s it,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, but lets up on the pressure as soon as he feels you jerk against him, “that’s my girl.”
You lurch down and wrangle him into a kiss, only wanting to feel his lips on yours as you come down from your orgasm. You’re still slowly rolling your hips against his, but focused more on the feeling of his cheeks under your palms and his lips on yours. 
“You okay?” He asks in between tongue tied kisses. 
“Yes, perfect, thank you,” you arch your back into him a bit, “ready for more.” 
Although you were fully prepared to bounce on his cock until he came, you were pleasantly surprised when his large hands surrounded your waist and hoisted you up off the bed. He wanted to try and keep his cock inside you, but accepted defeat as he managed to situate on the edge of the bed.
He shifted around you and situated himself in between your legs. You laid out, everything below the knees hanging off the edge of his hand-me-down mattress. He stood above you and lowered himself to land a few wet kisses on your breasts, his hard cock pressing into your needy center. 
He jerked you up by the underside of your knees, pressing your thighs into your chest and sinking down into your open pussy, causing a deep groan to emit from both of you.
Here he was, scars and all, standing above you and thrusting into you as if it was the last thing he would ever do, and he looked like an angel to you. 
More thoughtful than you may have initially given him credit for, his thumb finds your clit again and he politely, yet breathlessly asks, “Can you come again for me, pretty girl?”
How could you say no to that. You dumbly nod and throw your head back against the sheets, your hands balled up at your sides as he thrusted into you, grunting and moaning your name. 
“So fucking good Eddie,” you manage to squeak out, “You make me feel so fucking good.”
“Ah fuck, yeah, yes,” his voice nearly jumped an octive, signaling his release. “Where should I-“ he began to ask.
“Inside,” it came out as two syllables in-between breaths, “It’s okay you can come-“
“Fuuuuuck,” a strangled moan and a collapse of his arms, along with the delicious pulse of his cock inside you signaled his release. 
Before you could eve catch your breath, regain consciousness of the situation, he was reeling back and replacing his softening cock with two fingers. He latched his lips to your clit and began to suck in time with his finger’s replication of his cock’s earlier movements. 
“Oh my god,” you were truly taken aback, his face buried in your cunt and setting you back on track to your building orgasm. 
It didn’t take more than a minute and a half of him slurping your mixed releases from your cunt and bullying your g-spot with those damn magic fingers to send you hurdling towards orgasm number two, shaking and crying out his name. 
It wasn’t until your legs were truly shaking and your hand was searching for his forehead to push him away from overstimulation that he finally let up and let up of your pussy with a wet pop and a smug look.
“You come?” He asks again, just as he had in the back of his van. 
You don’t have the energy to respond, only roll your eyes and flip him the bird as you flop back down onto his bedsheets. 
He managed to get you a warm rag and a cold glass of water, stroking your har and asking if you felt alright.
“Feel perfect Eddie,” you say after a long gulp, “you took such good care of me, you always do.”
He stroked your hair and positioned the two of you back comfortably beneath his sheets. “Thank you,” he starts, but you cut him off with a kiss. 
“No, thank you,” you kiss him again, “for trusting me.” The look in your eyes could nearly make him melt. “You’re really something special Eddie, I mean it.”
“Special enough for a fourth date?”
You smack his chest and bury your head into his neck. “I don’t think we have to count dates if I’m your girlfriend now…”
Those dimples you adore perk up on his cheeks, and he bear hugs you, scarred chest and all. 
“What time should I set the alarm for tomorrow?” He asks with a sorrow in his voice. 
“How about never,” you roll over to trample him with another kiss, smothering his body in yours, knowing you’d be luck enough to have many moments like this soon to come. 
A/N: I'm sorry I have long lost the tracking of a taglist (crying emoji) don't want to bother anyone who asked to be added the last time I wrote a pic ten thousand years ago, so I hope this reaches everyone it needs to <3
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orchidyoonkook · 5 months
Text
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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steddieas-shegoes · 2 months
Text
sounds like a date
for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is sharing food' rated g | 743 words | no cw | tags: fluff, established relationship, flirting
💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖
"Can I have a fry?" Eddie asked with his mouth half full of the last fry he'd stolen off Steve's plate.
"Why didn't you just get your own fries?" Steve asked, handing him a fry from his plate.
"Because I only wanted a couple and you always share with me," Eddie shoved the fry into his mouth.
That was true; Steve always shared his food when they were having their usual date night at the diner. In fact, he pretty much only got fries because he knew Eddie would want some.
He preferred just eating his turkey club sandwich and smiling over at Eddie who always ordered two milkshakes because he could never decide on a flavor, a cheeseburger, onion rings that he complained were soggy every time, and a chef salad for balance.
Eddie never finished his food, or the milkshakes, but he always finished Steve's fries.
So it became an unspoken routine, something Steve wasn't even sure Eddie noticed even after months of doing it. Robin said he was a sap for doing it, but he didn't care.
"How's the chocolate shake?" Steve asked as Eddie dipped another stolen fry into it. "Good with the fries?"
"Yeah, but the strawberry is better. They didn't add extra chocolate syrup this time," Eddie half-pouted, as if he didn't complain about their lack of chocolate in the chocolate shake every time he ordered it.
"Can I have a sip of your Coke?" Eddie asked after another minute of stealing fries from Steve's plate.
Steve wordlessly handed his cup over, surprised it took him this long to ask for it. He usually asked way before he'd even started on the fries.
Eddie, as expected, took a few large sips, almost draining the rest of the drink.
"Why doesn't the waitress ever bring us napkins?" Eddie asked as he set the cup back down in front of Steve.
Steve handed him one of the napkins he'd grabbed from the table they passed on the way to their own. The waitress did always forget to bring them, so Steve prepared.
"You're so good to me," Eddie smirked, brushing his foot against Steve's ankle under the table.
Steve was pretty sure the waitress knew what was going on between them and just hadn't bothered to say anything, and the rest of the diner was empty. Their date night was pretty late, right after Eddie's Hellfire night with the kids that always seemed to go longer and longer. It was damn near midnight now, most of the town in bed, the rest up to no good somewhere else.
It was peaceful, being here with Eddie like this.
It was a look at a future they could have, at least a version of it, though neither of them planned on staying in Hawkins forever.
Steve slid his plate of the few remaining fries over to Eddie and wiped his hands on his napkin. "Finish 'em. I'm done."
"You didn't even eat any," Eddie pointed out before grabbing another one.
"Wasn't that hungry, I guess."
"Mhm," Eddie smirked knowingly, but didn't comment further.
"All set for the bill?" The waitress came by to ask, tapping her pen against the pad of paper. "Who gets it tonight?"
Eddie pointed at Steve, like he did every single week they did this.
Steve took the bill from her hand like he did every single week.
He pulled out his wallet, grabbed the $10 in cash he always kept there for date night, and handed it back to her.
Eddie waited until she walked away to pull out his wallet, grabbing $2 for a tip.
"You know at some point, you may have to actually pay for a date," Steve said as he slipped his jacket on.
"Maybe," Eddie shrugged, like he knew Steve loved paying for their date, made him feel like he could provide. Eddie joked it was his inner caveman. "Maybe I'll just take us on a nice road trip with all this money I'm savin'."
"Oh?" Steve froze.
Eddie looked back at him, beaming smile.
"Yeah. Next month sound good to you? A tour of diners across the midwest. Every night is date night. All my treat," Eddie suggested, like he'd already had this planned for a while. "I'd love to steal your fries in new places, Stevie."
Steve felt himself blushing, somehow always surprised at the lengths Eddie went to to make him feel so loved.
"Sounds like a date."
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angelltheninth · 4 months
Note
perhaps a fem reader training with mizu and somehow lands herself in a position where she’s on top of mizu and almost straddling her face? mizu is rather happy with how reader looks on top of her and even throws a few teasing comments
A few teasing comments? I want her to do a whole book worth of them.
Pairing: Mizu x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, very suggestive, established relationship, sparing, teasing, lots of sexual talk, thigh kissing/licking/biting, flustered!Reader, Mizu is a tease
Word count: 0.8k
Ao3
A/N: There's something... I don't know, I haven't been this downbad, this feral for a character in a very long time. Go easy on me, I can't write fight scenes to save my blorbos life. Also feel free to be downbad with me in the comments/reblogs, please I need to know I'm not alone in this.
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Mizu stood her ground, her eyes watching you like a wolf as you inched closer and closer to her. Your eyes should be on her stance, on her sword, paying attention to her body, but they weren't. They weren't even on her eyes. They were on her lips because she was smiling, she was having a good time sparing with you.
There was no opening for you to exploit. You couldn't half-ass this either, you promised her a good workout. Mizu's eyes moved from your hands to your face, to your legs, mildly distracted by your bare thigh. That was different kind of opening, but you could take advantage of it, after all this was still a fight, and anything was fair.
You charged forward, Mizu met you half-way there, the swords parrying against each other, moving to the side as you tried to shove her back with your shoulder. "Eyes up here." You warned as a joke when her eyes drifted a little lower.
"If I want to fight you I need to keep my eyes on your feet. It's not my fault that that outfit you chose is... revealing." Mizu taunted back. Instead of moving back from her slice you ducked, grabbed her wrist and tried to throw her over your shoulder. She wouldn't have let you if you didn't grind back against her in the way you did. The impact wasn't what made her grunt, it was the fact that you held the tip of your katana over her face, while balancing yourself over her chest. "Behind you."
"That's not gonna wo-" You felt the cold metal of the blade press against your throat. It was the back of it but still. You were at a standstill. "Draw?"
"Oh I don't know." Her sword moved from your neck and she placed it beside herself, you did the same, "From where I am it looks like I won." You were confused until you felt her hands run up your thighs and pull you closer to her.
Wearing a parted yukata was a mistake. You thought it would an advantage but it turned out that the only one who was at a disadvantage is you. It was hot out and it seemed like a good idea, you knew Mizu would look but you didn't think she'd do this too. "L-Like I said. My eyes are up here."
"Uhuh. What I want is down here though." Your mouth feel open in disbelief as hers pressed against your inner thigh. Parting your thighs further was entirely subconscious and said a lot about you as well. "If you wanted to be in a position like this you should have been honest. You know I like having you like this."
It was a struggle to keep still on top of her because her hands kept caressing so slowly, her lips kept switching from kissing to sucking a bruise higher, then lower, the soother with her warm tongue, all the while she kept glancing up at you. Almost as if she was daring you to move, or testing your will to stand still. "You're a pervert."
She didn't conform or deny, she was too busy moving to your other thigh, her lips a little bit softer now. "I'm not the one with my legs spread open." Her thumb slowly revealed more of your skin. The warmth of her tongue came dangerously close to where you didn't want to admit you needed it most. "I'm also not the one who is dripping wet right now."
"Mizu! I'm not!" At least you hoped you weren't. You tried to scramble away from her with no success. All that did was make her tighten her hold on your thigh and pull you even closer. Your eyes followed the way her tongue wet her lips.
If she leaned in just a little more her mouth would be right on your...
"Get up."
"Huh?" When you didn't move, too gobsmacked to, Mizu pushed you away lightly. As you sat there, worked up and now quite a bit horny Mizu simply stretched her arms above her head and sheathed her sword. "You... you just..."
"Hm? What did I do love?" Oh, so now she acted all innocent, blinking at you like she had no idea how horny she just made you. "Oh don't fuss, I just want to do this somewhere private. Unless you're more dirty minded than I thought. Or maybe you don't actually want-"
You almost tackled her as you wrapped your hands around her arm. It totally wasn't so you could walk straight because your legs were shaking too much. It totally wasn't because you tugged her along to get to your house faster so you could get rid of your clothes and continue where you left off.
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leilakisakabiri · 6 months
Text
Jealousy, Jealousy (Gavi)
Summary: You realize that Gavi never gets jealous when other guys are around you and it makes you question if he still likes you. 
Warning(s): None
A/N: Hey! I had some inspiration to write so here I am! I’m trying to release shorter fics while I work on my longer ones. Requests are open!
Word Count: 2.5k+
Masterlist
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The first time it happened, you felt relieved that Gavi had decided not to make a scene and instead chose to calmly defuse the situation.
The two of you had been at a club late one night, the high from Barcelona winning hours before pumping through your veins. He had his arms wrapped around you as you both danced to whatever Spanish song the DJ was mixing.
You laughed as he spun you around before pulling you closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear as he moved a strand of hair out of your face. 
"I'm going to grab another drink. Want to come?"
His breath was hot against your ear, and even though it felt like a million degrees in the club, and you were sweating through your dress, you still shivered, his voice sending shockwaves through your system no matter how many times you heard it.
You looked up, locking eyes, "I'm good, I'll save our spot."
He kissed the top of your head before letting go, "Ok I'll be back in a second. Try and find the others if you can."
You gave him an awkward thumbs up as he walked away and he chuckled before disappearing into the crowd.
The two of you had been dating for just shy of three weeks.
You had been friends for months before dating, with you initially being introduced to him through his hometown friends. Then there was a three-month period where you both liked each other but were too scared to admit it and ruin the friendship. Finally, Gavi caved after spending two weeks away from you without contact while he playing in the U.S.
Since he admitted his feelings for you that night on the steps of your shitty college house, he had jumped straight into the relationship, inviting you to his games, to hang out with his friends, and private dinners. You on the other hand still felt like an awkward pre-teen girl every time you were with him, he just made you feel giddy inside, and you reacted to things he said so intensely that the only way to cover it up was with strange humor and stupid jokes.
That led you to now. Sometimes being around him was so overwhelming because you were always scared you would say something to embarrass yourself, and although he never made you feel any less worthy you couldn't help but feel like he could be with someone much better than you.
As you stood there contemplating, you felt a body collide with yours, effectively pulling you out of your thoughts.
You stumbled, feeling hands come up to grip your elbows, stabilizing you.
"Shit- my bad."
You looked up seeing the guy holding you sporting a white button-down and an apologetic smile.
"Sorry, those guys just pushed me. Some friends." He said referring to the group of five or so extremely drunk boys behind you.
You shook your head, "No worries, I wasn't paying attention either."
He smiled, leaning a bit closer, hands still on your elbows, "Hey do I know you? You look really familiar.”
You squinted your eyes as you gazed at him, trying to figure out if you knew him.
"Eh I go to Universitat de Barcelona if that helps."
His eyes lit up at your words, and he nodded, "Yeah, that's totally how I know you. I think you're in my biology class."
You groaned, "No way the one at 8 a.m.?", he nodded, "I'm barely awake for that lecture." you muttered.
"Mean either but it's hard not to notice you."
You only heard half his sentence and looked at him confused, "Sorry what?"
His lips tugged up in a smile as he bent down, shifting closer to you, "I said it's hard not to notice you."
You felt your breath stop as you realized what you had gotten yourself into. You made a move to shy away when you heard Gavi call your name.
You lifted your head seeing him approaching as he carried your drink, "Hey who's this?"
You went to interject and tell him it was no one but the guy next to you interrupted, "Hey man, I got to school with her.”
Gavi nodded, accepting his answer as he handed you your drink, "Oh class friend?"
You went to speak but were again cut off by the guy next to you, who had still to let go of your elbow.
"Something like that."
You saw Gavi's posture slightly straighten at his words but he relaxed a second later, "Alright."
The guy turned to you saying something about seeing you in class and then proceeded to give you a hug, his arms wrapping around your lower back.
You noticed Gavi watching the exchange but he made no comment.
You approached him timidly, unsure of if he was going to say anything about the situation, but he paid it no mind, going back to casual conversation with you.
At the time you let out a breath, thankful that he seemed intent on letting you handle your own situation.
That thankfulness soon turned to annoyance and then confusion when similar situations happened time and time again and he made no effort to speak up.
You supposed it was good he never got jealous because you knew it could get very overbearing very fast, and yet, you couldn't help the twinge of defeat you felt every time someone tried to make a move on you and he did nothing to stop them or even show a ounce of emotion.
Slowly it was making you start to question your relationship with Gavi.
Why did he not get jealous? Was it because he didn't see others as a threat? Or didn't feel the need to because you weren't as pretty as the other girls he was seen with? Maybe he simply didn't care? Or perhaps he wasn't the type?
You knew the last one couldn't possibly be true because he was absolutely the type. His entire career was based on his passion, determination, and aggression to get where he wanted. His aggression is what made him so competitive and a loyal player. So if he was so driven and passionate on the field, why was that not carrying over into your relationship?
It wasn't until almost two months later that things came to a boiling point.
It was the last game of the pre-season for Barcelona and spirits were high, everyone hoping they could seal off a great season, and enter a new one, with a win.
The stadium was filled to the brim with fans and reporters. The family section was also full with player's partners and families coming to support them in the final game of the summer.
You were sitting next to Anna, the two of you talking about school, work, and life.
Eventually, the game started and you went into full-on fan mode - cheering along when Barca made impressive plays and booing when they were tackled.
The stadium was abuzz with energy, and you basked in everyone's excitement.
You gripped Anna's hand as you saw Gavi running up the sidelines towards the other team's defense, Joao running parallel to him.
You saw him sidestep, dodging the defender, and suddenly the ball was soaring, perfectly landing at Joao's feet as he placed it into the back of the net.
The two of you jumped up, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. It seemed like Barcelona would have its victory after all.
After the game, you stayed in the family section for a while chatting with Pedri's parents as you waited for the players to make a re-emerge.
You bid goodbye to them when you got a text from Gavi telling you to come down.
You made your way down to the field, waiting behind the barricades for him to appear.
The other team's players appeared first, signing fans t-shirts and taking photos.
"Need something signed?"
You saw a player from the other team approach you, waving a sharpie in his hand.
You pointed at your jersey playfully, "No thanks. I'm a Barca girl if you couldn't tell."
He grinned, "Ahh c'mon what will it take for me to convince you?"
You shrugged your shoulders, "Ride or die sorry."
He clutched his hand to his heart in mock offense, "Ouch. I'm hurt, but I'm not giving up."
You gave him a smile, remaining polite, as you looked over his shoulder for Gavi.
"Oh I know!" he exclaimed, directing your attention back to him.
He wiggled his eyebrows before taking off his shirt, "Here, new jersey for you."
He held it out to you, and you gave him an unimpressed look.
He rolled his eyes playfully, "Alright fine. I'll sign it, but only cause you asked so nicely."
You watched amused as he signed the jersey before offering it to you.
You squinted your eyes at him.
He dangled the jersey in his hands, "C'mon take it. You know a lot of people would pay good money for this."
You reached out to grab it, "Fine, but only because I'm going to sell it later."
He held up his hands in surrender, "It's yours now. Do whatever."
You thought the conversation would end there but he made no effort to leave, "Who are you here with anyway? Someone in Barca?"
You opened your mouth to respond but were cut off.
"Me."
You whipped your head to see that Gavi had silently approached the two of you.
Besides yourself, you felt a tiny part of you waiting with bated breath for him to do something, to finally dig his boots in the ground and say something, but he remained impassive.
"Hey."
"Hey, you ready to go?" Gavi asked.
You nodded your head, unsure of how to leave the situation.
"I can lift you over the barricade if you need." The other player spoke up, and your eyes immediately flitted over to Gavi's to gauge his reaction.
His eyebrows furrowed but he didn't say anything.
You debated for a second, just to get Gavi to react, but quickly decided against it, opting to just walk around the barricade.
You approached the two of them quickly and with a hasty goodbye followed Gavi as he left the pitch. You heard the other player shout a 'see you around', and you waved in response.
You broke the silence first as you walked the empty tunnel, "Great game baby. You did amazing."
"Thanks."
His reply was clipped.
He went to hold your hand and you shifted the jersey last second to your other hand, catching his attention.
"What's that?"
"Oh, that guy gave me his jersey. I'm going to sell it." You explained, telling him how you were expecting to make hundreds.
He listened along till you finished.
"Can I see the jersey?"
You nodded handing it to him.
You swung your joint hands as you walked, talking to him about the game as he examined the jersey.
Abruptly he dropped your hand, mouth set in a firm line.
Your eyebrows stitched together, "What's wrong?"
He cleared his throat before handing you the jersey.
"I think there's something for you on it."
"I forgot something in the locker room, I'll be right back." He continued.
You looked down confused, eyes scanning the text before it clicked.
The jersey had the player's phone number on it.
You lifted your head seeing him already walking away, "Gavi wait. Can you stop for a minute?"
He turned around but continued moving, "Yeah what?"
"Stop moving!” You exclaimed, your frustration building as he continued to not express any interest in the situation.
He finally halted and you closed the distance between the two of you.
"Is there something wrong with me? Do you not like me anymore or something?"
He seemed taken aback by your words and several emotions flitted across his face, "What are you talking about?"
You took a breath, it was now or never.
"I'm not trying to sound conceited, but I'm pretty sure that guy was hitting on me-"
"He was." Gavi confirmed.
You continued, "So then why don't you care? I'm your girlfriend, so why aren't you getting jealous when other guys hit on me?"
"You want me to get jealous?" He asked incredulously.
"I mean I don't want you to become super overprotective or anything, but it would be nice if you at least acknowledged when someone is trying to get with me right in front of you. I know I would get jealous if someone was saying that to you."
"You don't think I get jealous?" His voice had a hard edge to it, and suddenly you felt like you might have read between the lines wrong.
You shrugged your shoulders, unsure, "I mean you don't show it."
"Of course I'm going to notice when some guy is eye fucking my girl one foot away from me, I'm not fucking blind."
"Then why don't you say anything?" You pressed.
“Shit y/n that's cause I don't want to scare you away!"
His admission only confused you further, and you lowered your voice acutely aware that your shouts were probably carrying far in the quiet tunnel,
"Scare me away? Why would that scare me?"
He shook his head, "The press is always making me out to be this bad guy. This kid that doesn't know how to get his temper in check and - mierda y/n - I don't want to get into this right now."
You relented, unwilling to give in, biting the bullet, "Alright so next time someone asks to lift me up, their just being friendly right? Trying to be helpful?"
His eyes blazed, "That's not what I meant and you know it."
You lifted your hands in frustration, "No Gavi actually I don't know that. You act like you don't even care."
"I care! Trust me y/n I care!" He argued.
"Then show me."
His lips were on yours before you had even finished processing what you were saying. His skin felt hot against yours as his fingers sank into your hipbone, crowding you against the wall.
You lost your train of thought as you got lost in the sensation he provided you. One hand went to tangle in his hair, as the other draped around his neck bringing him impossibly closer.
One of his hands slipped under your shirt, as he kissed you senseless. You finally pulled away for a breath but he didn't stop, moving to lay a trail of kisses from the sweet spot behind your ear, down your neck, and onto your collarbone.
You left out a soft moan underneath him, the feeling causing tingles in your spine, and a fluttery feeling in your stomach.
"We should really sto- fuck gavi - so-someone could walk in any moment." You reminded him.
"Just gotta leave a mark." He replied.
You nodded before his words caught up to you and you pushed him off, "What? No marks! I have to meet your parents tonight." You whined.
He grinned, not looking the least bit apologetic, "At least people will know you're mine now."
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sturncrazy · 10 days
Text
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STUCK🔥
part 1
matt sturniolo x fem reader (no use of y/n)
(anyone else is green )
warnings: SMUT 18+ (part two will be major smut this is the warm up🫣)
summary: you and your friend matt are arguing while coming back from a event and are faced with heightened tensions when the elevator of the hotel gets stuck…
authors note: i was INSPIRED by the sam & colby colab i had IDEAS. so this is gonna be a 2 part!! and guys just roll w me — let’s pretend matt wouldn’t be in fetal position crying if an elevator fr got stuck.
word count: 2,060
—————————————————————————
you fussed with the back of your dress desperately trying to reach for its zipper. bodycon dresses like this should’ve been used for torture. finally giving up on completing the task alone, you banged on the door to the adjoining room.
your best friend matt had asked you to be his plus one to a party for one of the various influencer acquaintances of him and his brothers. chris and nick had other plans for the night, and there was no way matt would ever go to any social event alone. so he’d asked you to join. plus he knew you’d love getting all dressed up and even getting to spend the night at a nice hotel covered by the party host.
“WHAT?” shouted matt from the other side of the door
“MAAAATTT i can’t get my dress zipped! help!” you whined back continuing to pound your fist against the frame.
“Okay—just a second”
you jiggled the door handle, impatiently. it swung open to a flustered half ready matt. his soft brown locks were tousled in front of his eyes. he was wearing a white button up, but had only managed to button a couple of the lower ones in his rushed state, exposing his lean and muscular chest. your eyes haphazardly glanced down.
“going for a new slutty look?” you mocked
“oh shut up. you have the patience of a two year old” he shot back as he buttoned the rest of his shirt. you snorted.
“well” he said raising his eyebrows at you
“turn around”
you spun your back to him as his fingers snapped up your zipper.
“thank youuu” you said turning around with a smile. matt’s gaze trailed down from your face and over your figure that was hugged tightly by the black sparkly fabric that stopped only inches below your waist.
“what?” you laughed, confused by his quietness.
“oh-uh-nothing-“ he stuttered, turning away to grab his tie
“am i dressed wrong?”
“no-no you-you look really great” he said with a half smile.
“cmon let’s head out i’ll call us a car”
the party was loud and ridiculously flashy. Matt mingled with people he knew while you stuck a few feet behind. most of the people at events like this had no interest in talking to a no one like you. over an hour had passed and you were just about to ask matt when was a socially acceptable time to head out when you felt someone tap your shoulder. you turned around to see a tall man smiling down at you.
“so why did no one tell me about the competition to bring the prettiest date?” he asked
“the—what?” you stuttered
“i’m joking! but whoever brought you tonight would’ve won”
“oh—thank you?” you felt your cheeks flush slightly
“so who did?” he questioned with a smirk
“i’m sorry?”
“bring you here tonight? who’s your date”
“oh! oh matt did! but not date im just his friend” you nervously giggled
“so what im hearing is your not spoken for?” you had to admit this man was charming and the first interesting thing since being at this party, so you figured what was the harm in entertaining him. as you continued to make flirtatious small talk you felt eyes on you. you whipped around to see matt from a nearby corner staring at you, clearly paying no attention to the two girls talking at him. you gave him a smile, but his blank expression didn’t waiver. it struck you as weird, but you figured he was probably just zoning out.
about 45 minutes of flirting had quickly changed from fun to monotonous. you were preparing to excuse yourself to “go to the bathroom” when a tight grip latched onto your upper arm.
“I wanna leave” matt said flatly in your ear
“wha—oh okay” matt headed for the door, leaving you behind. you said a rushed goodbye and chased after him.
“matt—wait!” he stopped and turned to look at you.
“what the hell?” you said catching up
“didn’t know if you were coming. cars almost here”
matt’s jaw was visibly clenched in the dim lighting of the car. he stared straight ahead not speaking. it was only about a 6 minute drive to the hotel but it felt like a eternity. the hotel lobby was empty as it was past 2 in the morning.
“what’s wrong?” you finally asked as the elevator door shut behind the two of you.
“nothings wrong”
“bullshit. you’re acting weird”
“nope. guess i’m just tired” he said still refusing to look at you
“no i know you and you—“ you were cut off by the sound of your phone going off
“that your new friend from the party?” matt snarked
“my what? what are you talking about?”
“that guy who was all over you”
“guy—is that what’s making you act all weird?—“ suddenly the floor beneath you jolted. the elevator had stopped moving.
“you gotta be fucking kidding me” matt muttered
“did the elevator just break?”
“fucking perfect” he said with an exasperated laugh. you frantically began pressing the help button.
“Hello front desk—“
“Hi—yeah—um the elevator is stuck—“
“Hi ma’am—yes we’re aware—my apologies maintenance has been informed”
“How soon will they be here?”
“within a half hour—“
“A HALF HOUR?”
“I’m so sorry miss, we send the majority of staff home around midnight. were handling this best we can—“
“Okay. I understand. just please as soon as possible”
you backed up to lean against the wall where matt had already settled. silence again.
“well you’re stuck with me now” you attempted to joke
“yup” matt said coldly
“matt seriously? do you have a history with that guy or something”
“it’s not the guy thats my problem”
“oh so what? i’m the problem”
“i didn’t say that—“
“well you implied it—can you look at me?” you snapped. matt turned his face to you.
“i don’t like watching some guy all over you okay—”
“I had no idea that you cared about that sorta thing i mean girls are all over you—“
“of course I fucking care—“
“but why—“ your sentence was halted by matt’s right hand harshly grabbing your waist and his left hand holding onto your cheek, pulling your body flush to his and your faces only a sliver apart.
“because tell me you haven’t felt anything between us. and i’ll stop right now if you do and forget this ever happened. tell me you don’t feel anything for me right now.” he said in a gravely whisper, the warm air of his breath caressing your lips. your eyes flitted back and forth across his that starred hungrily at your lips, pupils blown. without thinking you smashed your lips against his, closing the little space left between you. matt froze for a second before passionately joining you in the kiss. his hand wrapped around to your back, pulling you impossibly closer to him as the other latched itself into your hair. your tongues began to entwine with one and other, battling for dominance. Matt pulled gently on your lower lip with his teeth, before unlocking his lips with yours. you stared up at him breathlessly, not wanting to have stopped. he smirked at the slightly helpless expression on your face before using his grip in your hair to tug your head back to expose your neck. he lowered his lips to give you a sloppy warm kiss on your delicate skin. you let out a soft sigh and matt took this moment of weakness as an opportunity to push you up against the back wall. he continued to pull and kiss at your neck and collar bone, his hands digging into the skin around your hips. heat had began to form between your legs and you let out an involuntary moan as matt bit down on your flesh. one of your legs wrapped around his. he inhaled sharply and looked back up at you.
“careful—you might start something you don’t mean to” he panted
“i know exactly what i wanna start” you whispered before pulling him by his tie back to your lips. you rolled your hips up against him.
“oh you’re in for it now” he groaned against your mouth, pressing his crotch against you. your dress had now pathetically rolled up almost to your hipbones. matt pressed his clothed bulge between your legs, creating friction against your now exposed thong. you were practically dripping at the feeling. his strong hands slid down to your bare ass cheeks and squeezed the plush flesh as he continued to grind himself against you. soft sounds of pleasure tumbled from your mouth.
“your moans are even sexier then i imagined” he huffed against your neck
“yeah? you like hearing me moan for you, matty?” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck
“just hearing you does something to me”
“what does it do to you?” you said innocently. he lifted his head to look you in the eye. he moved one of his hands from your ass on top of your own delicate smaller hand which he then guided down his own torso. the two of you panting like wild animals against each other at the insufferable tension as your hand got lower and lower.
“why don’t you find out for yourself” he whispered as your hand finally reached his covered crotch. your eyes still locked to his, you pressed your palm against his hard on. the feeling of his size alone sent tingles through your body. he moaned at the contact. you repeated the motion. his eyes rolled back into his head. watching him like this was addictive.
“fuck—feels so good—“ he sighed out
“been hard all night cause of you”
“you have?”
“second i saw you in that dress all i could think about was fucking you”
“you thought about fucking me?” you teased. matt grabbed your wrist.
“all the time.” his eyes trailed down your heaving chest to your slightly parted legs, the delicate lace of your thong just visible. he let go of your wrist and ran his fingers from your hip over the top of your thigh to the waist band of your underwear and halted.
“you ever thought about fucking me”
“maybe” you teased, still trying to keep some composure. he lowered his touch expertly to your clit. you bit your lip.
“do you ever touch yourself when you think about me” matt began to drag his finger tips up and down your barely covered slit.
“sometimes”
“does it make you wet” he began to pull the fabric of your thong to the side. you let out a gasp as the cool air hit your exposed folds. you nodded slightly
“nuh uh. i wanna hear you say it.”
“say what”
“tell me i make you wet.“
“you make me so wet matt— i want you so bad—-“
“good girl” he said giving you a light kiss
“and good girls get rewarded” he hummed against your lips as he began to push two fingers into your leaking entrance. you let out a loud moan as you felt his digits begin to rhythmically penetrate your core. you clawed at his flexed biceps
“oh—god—matt—“ you whined
“you like that, beautiful?” he cooed into your ear
“so fucking much” matt began to pick up the pace. you felt a knot in the pit of your stomach start to form.
“shit—i’m close—“ right as the words tumbled from your lips the floor beneath you jolted once more. you and matt shared a panicked look as you both scrambled to collect yourself as the elevator retook its motion. you frantically yanked your dress back down just in time for the doors to slide back open. a hotel employee greeted you
“I am so incredibly sorry about this my sincere apologies. We’ll be comping a part of your stay—“
“oh really it’s fine. we weren’t paying for ourselves to begin with” you brushed off
“still if there’s any way we can make this up to you. let me assist you back to your rooms-what’re the numbers?“ he said hurrying down the hall. you opened your mouth to answer but felt matt yank at your list
“were both in 611, actually” matt barked. you raised an eyebrow at him.
“oh im not done with you yet.”
———————————————————————
ending note:
HEY YALLLLLLLL
IM BACK BABY!!
i’m so sorry i went MIA! i had the craziest last two months of my life and then to top it off i got hit w food poisoning and was in the ER sooooo BUT ANYWAYS IM BACK NOW AND BETTER THAN EVER!
hope u guys like this one i started it like a month ago SO it’s FINALLY coming along. PART TWO SOON
and she’s gonna be FILTHY
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companionjones · 5 months
Text
Thank You
Pairing: Mike Schmidt x FemPresenting!Reader
Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy's (Movie)
Summary: You're Abby's babysitter. Mike comes home one night. Things ensue.
Warnings: SMUT, Cursing, Mommy kink, Choking kink, a smidgen of spit kink, enjoy
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*******
He would really only ever say those two words to you. You were a light sleeper, so him opening the door would always wake you. Once he noticed that you were awake, he would bid you "Thank you," and you would leave.
That night, however, when he came home, he walked straight over to the dining room table and set down his things without uttering a word. He leaned on the piece of furniture and his head dipped down, seemingly in defeat.
"I still can't pay you," he informed, his voice strained. Something told you he was holding back tears.
It wasn't much, but at least it wasn't two words. "What made you think I was ever in this for the money?"
"Then why would you do this?!" Mike suddenly turned to you and whisper-yelled. You knew he didn't want to wake up his sister.
In response to him taking out his frustration on you, you just tilted your head. You had the most sympathetic look on your face. You didn't say any words, you merely walked over to him.
Mike tried backing away from you, but he ran into the table.
You simply put your hands on his arms. Your face was serene.
He could scarcely breathe.
"Why do you think I do this?"
You leaned in, but , surprisingly, Mike met you halfway. He seemed so eager to finally kiss you.
The two of you stood there for some time, making out in the dimly lit main room of the Schmidt residence. You wrapped your arms around his neck while Mike's hands held a white-knuckle grip on the table.
It didn't surprise you when Mike pulled back. "We-we shouldn't be doing this."
"Why's that?"
"Because Abby's asleep right down the hall!" he whispered, "Plus, you're like-like my-"
You raised your eyebrows at him. "Your what? Employee? We've just established that you don't pay me, so I think we're good on that front, and as for your sister..." you paused and leaned in close to his ear.
Mike had a sharp intake of breath as you did that.
"I guess we'll just need to be quiet, huh?"
With that, you took him by the hand and started leading him back to his bedroom. Mike followed you like the good boy he was.
In no time, you had Mike stripped down and in bed with you seated on top of him, naked as well.
There was a sound, and Mike shot up, thinking it was his sister.
"It was just the house settling, okay?" You looked at him with dreamy eyes. "Relax."
Slowly, Mike nodded and laid back down.
"You ready?"
Again, all you got was a nod.
"I'm going to need a bit more than that, if we're going to do this," you only half-joked.
Surprising you, Mike felt up your legs as his eyes slowly trailed up your body. "I want you...so bad." He announced every word with emphasis.
You gave a breathy chuckle at his compliance, lifted yourself, then lowered yourself down on his hard length.
While you just sighed, Mike whimpered, the quiet sound getting loudest when you fully sat on him. He took handfuls of your thighs for support.
"Remember what we said about the volume?" you teased.
"Sorry." The words came out strained as his eyelids were shut.
"Ah, ah, ah." You gave a light slap to his cheek. "Be a good boy and keep your eyes on Mommy."
"Fuck," Mike gasped. You also felt his cock jump at your words.
Smirking at his reaction, you leaned over him and started slightly riding his dick. "What? You like that?"
"Oh, god." Mike's body tensed as you started to ride him and struggled to keep his eyes open.
"You like me calling you good boy? Or was it the part about...Mommy?"
"Mommy!" Mike shuddered as your hole squeezed him.
"That's my good boy," you smiled. You took some time to enjoy the ride yourself as you placed your hands on your feet and leaned back. Some time later, you returned your posture to find that Michael's eyes had slid shut again. "What did I say?" You fell forward and caught yourself with one hand on the bed and the other around Mike's throat.
The shock surely opened his eyes for good. "Sorry! I'm sorry...sorry...sorry."
"You better be," you spat. Quite literally. Into his mouth. Well, most of it the corner of his mouth.
That didn't seem to matter to Mike. He licked the remaining spit into his mouth while keeping full eye contact with you.
"Good boy..." you smirked again, and, with one final squeeze, started to let go of Mike's throat.
However, he disagreed with that action. "No!" he whisper-yelled, and grabbed your wrist to keep you in place. "I-fuck-I love this."
Your smirk grew teeth as you smiled down at Michael Schmidt, submissive and pliant to your touch.
"Shit. I think I'm...close," Mike informed between breaths.
You raised an eyebrow. "Well then, you'll have to hold on 'cause I'm not there yet. Anything you want to do about that?"
Those words had Mike frantically nodding. Suddenly, he was rolling on top of you. You took your hand off his neck. Mike was determined to get you to cum before he did, and my god was he good.
Your eyes lulled back as he pounded into you. Another smile appeared on your lips. When you returned to look at him, you realized Mike had kept his gaze steady on you the whole time. Quickly, however, his facade broke and his head fell down onto your shoulder. "Mommy..." he whined out.
You decided to forgive the transgression as you threaded fingers into his hair and whispered into his ear. "I'm close now, too, baby."
That seemed to renew his vigor because he moved to face you again. Mike also put your hand back around his throat.
You squeezed him for good measure. Up top and down under. His reaction got you to smile, but that smile faded as you felt the pressure building up inside you. You flipped you and Mike so you were back on top.
There, you kept your faces close, but launched your head back when you came. Eventually, you fell back down onto Mike's shoulder. You stayed like that for a moment until--
"Mom-my-?" came the broken up voice of Mike.
"Did Mommy forget to let her good boy cum?" You returned to your spot above him.
Again, Mike was nodding frantically.
You leaned back down to whisper in his ear, "Go ahead. You've more than earned it."
Immediately, Mike sped up his thrusts. His breathing got faster, too. He grabbed your arm that was supporting your weight, and your wrist whose hand was squeezing his neck and Mike came with a shout. Both you and Mike covered his mouth after the loud sound. He thrusted a few more times into you as he completed his orgasm.
You and Mike stayed still for a minute or so after that; half relishing in the post-sex atmosphere, and half praying that Abby didn't walk in.
Thank god, she didn't.
So, you pulled off of Mike, and the two of you got yourselves cleaned up.
"You can stay, if you want to," Mike offered, standing next to his bed.
You walked up to him, put your hand on his chest, and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "I would love that."
Somehow, the two of you made it work on Mike's twin bed. You were halfway on top of him, but you weren't complaining.
Finally, as you and Mike were falling asleep, you heard two words, mumbled out by Mike, "Thank you."
*******
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3
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girlbooklover555 · 24 days
Text
"Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left?"
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Poly!percabeth x fem!reader
warnings : cute and probably very ? corny ? summary : Percy suffering back pain and boredom to make his girlfriends happy
I'm using Google translator
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Sally Jackson and Paul Blofis were not home.
They traveled, so Percy had the apartment to himself.
What would Percy Jackson want to do all weekend?
Certainly not a reading marathon, not that he hated reading, but having two reading girlfriends, he was as used to the smell of books as he was to seeing swords.
But he honestly just wanted to make out and watch a movie right now (he probably wouldn't even pay attention to the movie). But when he asked you and Annabeth to spend the weekend with him, he knew something to do with books was going to happen, even if it was just a joke one of you would play with the other about something.
At least he could look at both of you during the conversation and in some way while you talked enthusiastically about literary universes and character development.
Even if he pay attention, ADHD doesn't help much.
Two girls talking about reading.
Your girls.
It was something attractive, so sometimes, no matter how corny some people talked, their conversations and theories, or even literary disagreements (which sometimes took a while to end), was attractive to him.
Percy blinked his eyes, tired of boredom, and the playlist at the moment was rain.
Annabeth wasn't helping when she made that choice.
Neither you...
Your hand caressing the in his hair were great, plus the fact that you were Hypnos' daughter, so it didn't help his sleep much.
Percy tries to snuggle in the middle of the couch between the two of you, but now the couch, even though it wasn't hard, was uncomfortable after 2 hours there.
How you and Annabeth put up with this torture, he didn't know.
He got tired of trying to steal kisses half an hour ago.
' Wait, Sharkboy, I need to mark this sentence, okay? Annie, do you have any more sticky notes left? '
'Um momento, Seaweed Brain, estou em uma parte importante.'
At least he knew that the back pain didn't kill them, because every minute one of them changed position.
So, he played with a bracelet on Annabeth's wrist, which she was wearing, and took advantage of you touching his hair.
When Percy blinked again, he noticed that he woke up because of a sleep timer noise on his cell phone next to him.
“My turn to choose the playlist, Chase,” you say, excited to swap the sound of fake rain for a literary playlist.
Percy decided to go back to sleep again, while "Lovers Rock" started playing in the background.
When he woke up for the second or third time in the late afternoon, he smelled cookies coming from the kitchen and noticed that he was the only one on the couch and had a blanket covering him now too.
He looked up and saw, through the kitchen door, you and Annabeth talking something about cookies. “Sally uses more blue paint than that, honey,” Annabeth said.
Percy smiled and pretended to be asleep. At least this time he didn't drool in his sleep...
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prettyboykatsuki · 1 year
Text
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picket fence | i. sae
✭ tags ; fem + afab!reader (sae jokingly refers to you as unladylike), established relationship, sae is whipped and bad at feelings, reader is very secure in themselves, p in v, very vanilla, 18+
✭ wc ; 2.2k
✭ a/n ; experiencing immense shame. will not be taking questions at this time
✭ synopsis ; you fail to seduce you boyfriend. he wonders if you’ll ever get that you dont need to try
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"I'm trying to seduce you," Your voice is sarcastic as it is genuine in equal parts. Sae's expression remains impassive "Can't you at least pretend to care?"
"No," He replies back. You pout and cross your arms. Fake demure abandoned for your difficult personality, you flounce into the living room with a sigh. You're wearing lingerie. It's all lace and sheer and glittery. Not simple to put on from what he can see.
There's garters and stockings visible to the eye and you went as far as wearing the jersey he got for you in his size - cut in half to show you off. It's an admirable attempt, at least. You give him a twirl, gesturing to yourself and then groaning at his disinterest.
He smiles, corners of his lips twitched upwards as he glances at you then turns back to the T.V.
"I can't even get a compliment? Not even a fake one? C'mon,"
He gives you a look, wondering why you've even asked. You sigh, throwing your hands up in the air.
"Most guys would be thrilled by this. Do you know that? I bet Shidou would be,"
"Shidou would fuck anything warm with a hole." He says sarcastically. Even in your annoyance, you laugh. Sae smiles to himself.
"I bet Rin would give me attention," You whine.Sae looks at you seriously.
"Don't joke about fucking my little brother,"
"Who said I was joking, dickwad," You spit, your personality returning to you in the blink of an eye. Sae gives you an unimpressed look "Whatever. I'm gonna go take pictures."
"Pictures?" He inquires. You shoot him a look of annoyance.
"Yes, pictures, Itoshi-san," You say, biting and frustrated - punctuating the honorific "Pictures."
"For who?"
You frown at him.
"Well, certainly not for you." You reply, hand on your hip "For me and whatever friend will hype me up. My private story, who knows, really."
"Don't do that."
"I put too much effort into this. I'm getting some pictures in it." There's a tinge of disappointment at the end of your words, followed by the utmost sincerity "I won't send it to any dudes so you can relax or whatever. I get to pick dinner."
"Hey," He calls, then huffs as you give him a look "Stop. Come here."
Sae watches you tilt your head, confused. You're annoyed, but not upset enough to make it a big deal. You always make it clear that you expect little from Sae. The longer he dates you, the more it annoys him. It's contradictory in it's own right, hypocritical to an extent.
But he doesn't particularly care as you stand next to him, arms crossed over your chest.
"Hm?"
He reaches his hands towards you, fidgeting with the strap of your garters. The warmth of your skin radiates off of you. You smell nice, like something fruity and floral - and you're all visibly done up. He only notices when there's this much space between you.
"How much was this?"
"Expensive," You reply, simple and indifferent "I bought it."
"For me?"
Where he's expecting your usual self (sarcastic, unladylike, rude), you slink back at the question. You're embarrassed, tucking your chin and trying desperately to get a read on his feelings. A sensation he can't describe washes over him, half-way between guilt and amusement.
"Yeah. Who else?"
"Rin," He replies back easily, and you sigh.
"I'm sorry. Just jokes," You say, light-hearted. Gentle in your own way "Are you done? Or are you asking so you can pay me back since you foiled my plans?"
"You look good." He murmurs gently. Softly, quietly, with as little sarcasm as he can manage. It's uncomfortable. The words don't fit in his mouth the way they should. It's not like he's thinking anything else. You do look good. And he does know, that most guys would be thrilled if their partners put on such a get-up for them.
Sae knows it almost intimately that half of his meathead teammates would cream their pants looking at you. Because he's not blind or stupid. It doesn't mean anything to Sae except for when it does.
"You don't have to try so hard," You offer again. That's so like you. No expectations, always prepared to give him ease where he doesn't deserve it "'s fine. Thanks for saying that. I'll go change and we can watch something."
"No," He says, shaking his head. A little gentler this time "C'mere."
A flush spreads over you. He invites you into the bed and you crawl towards him, settled in his lap. He doesn't know what to do with himself.
It's not like he doesn't like it. That he's unaffected. It's just not the clothing itself. Not the lingerie or the jersey which construct themselves as just objects. Sae's desires are the way you linger in the doorway of your shared bedroom - the twirling and posing and dramatics.
The soft laughter and the brave face you put on to walk into the door. The lingerie is pretty. It cups you, hugs you in the right places. Dips between the curve of your breasts and squeezes.
None of that is particular important. Right now, you've let yourself settle in his lap. Your arms around his frame, encircled around his neck and forgiving. He can feel the heat of your core over his cock, can feel the way your eyes flit to his lips up to his gaze. Sae secures his hands on your waist, fingers hooking into a strap and snapping it against your skin.
He kisses your jaw, all the way up until you your lips hover near each other. You press your lips to his, hands brushing the nape of his hair. He deepens it just for you.
"What was'at for? You wanna have sex?"
He laughs at you. Stupid. Crass. Vulgar.
Cute.
"Do you think I'm a eunuch?"
"You act like one sometimes." You admit, with a heaving sigh - brushing your nose against his "Dunno. I feel like I want you more than you want me."
"You're really stupid."
"Sae," You pout like you don't think you'll get your way, even though you always do "You suck."
He's honest with himself for a minute "I know."
"I still love you, though."
"I love you too." He means it. For some reason it's not as hard to say. Love is an objective truth. He can say it reasonably and not flinch. Everything else is hard. You rub your cheek against his, an affectionate and overgrown housecat in his bed.
"Mm," You cling to him, hugging him to your chest "But do you like me?"
"Sometimes."
"So mean." You say with no malice "I don't wanna do any work."
"'s fine. C'mere."
Sae helps as he flips over, until you're onto your back. There's a dull glow from the T.V. illuminating you. Rain pours outside, dark and cloudy. You bat your lashes as Sae hovers over you. His hand grasps your hip, sliding up to your knee as you wrap your legs all the way around his waist.
He kisses you tenderly. You kiss back with a mewl, an innocent and fragile noise that he never gets sick of. It's this part of you Sae likes, this part that makes you want him. Despite all of your grievances and annoyance - all your unpleasantires, you are resilient in a way he has a hard time understanding.
You’re patient, despite him. Always meeting him where he is but making him want to give you more, give you everything. There's plenty of attractive people in the world. None could be you, his home-grown and lovesick toothache.
It makes him feel impatient. Breaks his cool bravado down so slightly. He kisses you again, all deep tongue until you whimper. Then he drags his lips down your neck, teeth grazing your pulse as you hiccup.
You break apart so Sae can undress you. Wiggling out of the jersey, lettng him unclasp your bra. He feels his stomach twist. You're enticing. The gentle heave of your chest, goosebumps on your skin. Sae lets his mouth speak for him, laving his tongue over each of your tits. Toying with your nipples until you gasp and roll your hips up against him.
"Sae," You moan. Sae grunts in the back of his throat "Feels good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
The posession that settles in him his strange. He's never felt for anything in this way. Soccer is different. It can't leave. If he works hard enough, he can accomplish his goals.
The idea of you going somewhere Sae can't see you is troubling. Anyone seeing you like this - falling apart as arousal sparks in your gut is agitating. Sae wants you like this. Wants you to fall apart underneath him, because of him. It's all he can do to tell you the extent of his feelings.
He touches you until you're begging him to hurry it up, too much pleasure in your voice to be intimidating. He listens. Continues to toy with your chest as he nudges your legs apart, a hand in your panties to feel you.
You're dripping, keening as he rubs your pussy. He lets himself in slowly, rubbing your clit with his middle finger before angling himself lower. Normally there's more of a build-up. Sae works all of you open slowly. With his tongue or his fingers or his mouth.
He likes seeing you need it. What part of him that speaks too, he doesn't examine. Today, it feels like the roles are inverse. He can feel all the blood rushing to his cock. His thoughts bombarded with you and all your little misgivings.
Today it's more impatient. He finger fucks you open with an end goal clear in his mind. You spread your legs a little, and Sae pushes his middle finger into in one go. There's little resistance. You're wet and welcoming, sighing so sweet in his ear until it's easy to go in and out.
"C'mon and fuck me." You open your eyes to ask him, glassy and desperate "Please?"
"You're so impatient."
"Wanna know you want me."
"You should already know that."
Sae pulls away from you, standing on his knees.
"Open your mouth."
You nod. He lets his middle fingers rest on your tongue as he uses his free hand to position you. His cock rests against your bare cunt. He pushes between your folds, head nudging your clit. You feel good. Always perfect. Always wet and hot and inviting.
He ruts his hips. You whine for him, sounding so need. A staccato to your moans that makes him ache.
"You should know how much I want you, shouldn't you," He says, a hint of frustration in it "Everybody but you seems to."
Sae pushes into you with a heave. You're tight. Warm and wet and slick - made for him just like he always knew. He groans a little as he pushes the tip in. His hands come up under your knees, folding you in half. He waits for you to stop squirming, rocking himself slowly so that it's easier to fit all of him inside.
With a little effort, he manages. His pelvis up against yours, he gets himself close to you. You moan and he gives you look.
"You don't have to do anything special for me to fuck you like this," He says. It's easy to be honest now "Anything you do is enough."
"I just wanna look nice for you." You complain - so breathless and so struck with want Sae can't even be upset.
"I know. And you do," He grunts as he pulls his hips back, pulling out before pushing all the way back in "I don't hate it. Just for me, okay?"
"You're so bad at bein' honest."
"I'm being honest right now," Sae fucks you hard. A punctuated thrust, hand snaked between your bodies to toy with your clit "Read between the lines."
If Sae were better he'd say what he thinks. That it doesn't matter what clothes you have on because he wants to fuck you within an inch of your life for much less. You do look good in the lingerie, too good, and if you send any pictures to anyone - he's going to block them. One of these days he'll be courageous and make you cum while you wear his jersery. Bounce you on his cock and whisper about what you make him do. It’s unlike him. He doesn’t get it either.
He can't verbalize all of that well, so he takes to what he knows. Takes to using his hips to fuck you hard and fast, rhythmic and deep so you can't keep up. He hopes all of it comes through, that short whispers of “fuck, that's it” do enough to get it to come across.
Sae looks on as your face twists with pleasure. Your walls twitch and you shiver in his arms, nails in his bicep as he plays with you. Fucks you to his hearts content. Your legs over his shoulder, toes curled. Your muscles tense.
"Sae, g-gonna, I'm gonna c-cum."
"Cum for me." He whispers (begs if you listen closely) and you do. You're vibrant and wanton and you've still got your stockings on as your pussy pulses needlessly, arousal dripping down his length and onto the sheets underneath you. Leaving a mess of you on the sheets.
He's not done with you yet, but he slows so you can catch your breath. You open your eyes and giggle.
"You make me feel so good." You praise, easily and naturally like you do everything else. He groans internally, at a loss for words.
Instead of saying anything, he presses a kiss to your hairline and promises.
"Gonna keep going till you get it."
You grin.
"I’ll hold you to that, sir.”
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lovingksuki · 5 months
Text
✰ SECRET ADMIRER
— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader
synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy
cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.
a/n: this is part one of three. let me know if you want this mini series to be continued :) and pls be patient since english is not my first language hehe ;;
word count: 1k
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"oh c'mon! what if there's a heart shaped letter in your locker? you never know..."
"there's not."
"you can't be so certain about it. my girl is never looking her surroundings, who knows if someone got their heart pierced by an arrow?" mina pointed.
"shut up, every year the same thing..." you rushed and right after turning the corridor you captured by distance. "ok. maybe you were right." you said finding the metal compartment half closed.
then you grabbed the red paper in her hands, paying attention to the almost dry daisy taped lazily on the front; glanced around not spotting anything or anyone suspicious about it, then turned to your best friend.
"i got a feeling you're part of this." spurred.
"whoa, i was joking just now! even i am chocked. who's the sender?" the pink colored girl held her hands up in protest.
"i don't know, there's only my name." you stated carefully sticking the little flower out.
"let me search for a hint." mina took the letter from your hands suddenly, mumbling while quickly skimming through the words looking for something useful. she gasped before smirking at the content and then continued mumbling.
"enjoying yourself!?" you sighed waiting.
"mkay, done." handed the letter. "nothing between the lines. who wrote this sure is smart enough to not leak their identity."
"that's for me to decide. you ain't the smartest kind." you chuckled.
"hey!"
"more like the pretty girl type."
"you sly thing! you received a love letter, who's the pretty girl again?" both laughed at the statement and headed out to the cafeteria. "not reading it?"
"can't think when i am this hungry. we should hurry."
at the lunchtime the subject was the same. you two were discussing with your mouths full, sitting by yourselves on a table far enough from eavesdropping.
"hear me out. there's this line that seems to be rewritten over and over, it's a bit tattered." you mentioned. "it says: 'i'm still hesitant about what you think about me' and thanks to the pressure they put on paper seems to be 'afraid of who i am' underneath."
"adds a lot of nothing to our investigation. that's what everybody would say in a confession, i mean, nobody likes being dumped." pinky pointed out unfazed.
"yeah but, i don't think it's meaningless, what if this person is truly insecure about themselves." you pondered.
"or they're just ugly." mina chewed on her meal.
"i don't think that's the case... remember when you told me that thing you read about pretty boys' handwriting?" you brought up.
"did you actually believe that!? was just a discussion in a girl's meme forum." the pink one remarked.
"but there's some truth behind it. if you consider that people with a smaller hand can grip on a pen better when writing, also means the ones with big hands tend to have a sloppier handwriting!" you stated confident about your theory.
"girl, you're tripping... does this mean we're going across the school measuring boys' hands?" mina smirked unconvinced.
"precisely."
꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦꒷꒦
"what a fucking waste of time..." said raging.
"dude, calm down. at least you poured your feelings out..." eijiro reassured his bestfriend trying to point out the bright side of things.
but while he's the bright side, katsuki was the dark side. they say a good relationship is based in balance, in this case it makes total sense.
"you even checked if she read it?" asked the red haired.
"when she and mina walked by me at the corridor they were whispering and giggling like little lambs. probably laughing at that letter though." pouted.
"you're being paranoid, they're always like that."
"they're up to something..." bakugo murmured.
whilst the two struggled to put up with the 'plan cupid', the other two were constructing the 'plan pretty boy's handwriting'.
"as i was saying, a pencil has six inches approximately, we're looking for a hand as big at least. if we measure our hands we can compare with theirs without them noticing." stated grabbing a pen off her case.
"you're truly a genius. i refuse to accept you failed strategic test last week." mina complimented.
"i was in a really bad mood that day... anyway!" justified while traced her own hand in a empty page of mina's notebook. "fifteen centimeters. do yours and we're good to go!" demanded agitated.
when looking for friends of theirs, the girls pretended to just have a walk around the school.
"what if it was a girl?" mina asked suddenly.
"i doubt. how many girls with large hands do we know?" claimed.
"mmm... asui-san?"
"you've got to be kidding...!" pulled her phone and dialed quickly a number. "hey!" you smiled. "no, nothing really urgent, i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?" questioned without any filter.
"girl you gone mad?" mina whispered holding back a laughter.
"uh, ok. anyways, thank you. we talk later, kisses!" you hung up. "see? that's not her."
"woah you're so straightforward! it scares me sometimes..."
the boys exited the restroom still discussing, but when the blondie heard a certain voice he stepped back. pulled eijiro's tie to hide behind a pillar with him. "shut it!" mouthed.
"i just wanted to ask... are you perhaps in love with me?"
"uh, ok."
his face started to burn as he became more anxious. could only hear a few words, enough to bring the boy into complete state of panic.
after the girls left he released his breath.
"stop overthinking! she just received a love letter, of course she's curious!" kirishima said.
"i didn't say anything, shitty-hair!"
"your face shows!" sighed. "seriously, how can she be so oblivious? just look at you! you're terrible at hiding."
"i- i... she doesn't even talk to me that often..." katsuki pitied.
"bro, you're not the friendliest around here. but she doesn't seem to be afraid of you." kiri pondered. "have you ever tried to smile?"
he looked at the red spiked guy and opened a shy smile.
"a bit more."
every time bakugo tried to put on smiling face it looked creepy. "be more genuine." said eijiro.
trying his best, but even with so much effort... his buddy analyzed. "ok. it looks absolutely terrifying."
"shit."
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talaok · 10 months
Text
Begging
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Pairing: Javier Peña x sex worker!reader
summary: Javier is desperate to see you, and he's not above begging
Warnings: Smut | oral sex (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, lots of fluffy smut even though it wasn't the initial idea, and Javi being a simp
You were already late, the last thing you needed was for the phone to ring.
"Hello?" annoyance was tracing your tone ever so clearly.
"Hi sweetheart"
You stopped what you were doing, the shoe in your hand momentarily forgotten.
"Javi I'm busy" you immediately blew him off.
"mh, how busy?" the sweet sound of him taking a drag from his cigarette traveling through the phone.
"Very busy" you cleared "I'm late to meet a client"
Silence on the other end.
Lately, you kept having a feeling he didn't like when you talked about your other clients.
"don't you usually arrive late on purpose?"
"I do, but just of five minutes, not half an hour"
"I'm sure he'll wait, doll," he said "I can't think of a man who wouldn't"
You rolled your eyes "I don't have time for this Javier, why did you call?"
"you know why baby" his voice was warm and sultry "I've had a long day"
The implications behind his words were clear as day for someone who'd heard every variation of - I need you- falling from his lips.
"It's 3 pm" you reminded him, glancing at your watch
"It is, and I've been thinking of that sweet mouth of yours since 6 a.m," he said, his voice lowering as he skimmed around the office to make sure no one heard.
"well you did nine, you can survive for another two"
" 'm not sure I can sweetheart" he breathed "I need to see you"
"now?" 
"now."
"I can't now Javi, I've got a client"
"blow him off"
"you know I can't do that"
"why not?"
"I have a reputation to maintain, and this one pays well"
"I can pay too" he suggested, his desperation cracking through "I can double the amount"
You laughed softly "I doubt you could afford that"
He winced "That much?"
"yes, that much"
He paused for a moment "Y'know we've got cash laying around here, I doubt anyone would notice a few stacks disappearing"
You feigned a gasp "Agent Peña, that's a very serious offense you're joking about, I doubt your boss would be happy to hear you talk like that"
"I doubt Messina would be happy to hear me talk about anything today" he sighed "And 'm not joking, sweetheart, I need you"
You could hear and feel the hunger in his voice
"I can't Javi" you spoke, ignoring the feeling in your chest 
"Please baby" he groaned " just five minutes"
You bit down a laugh "We both know what five minutes mean to you"
He almost smiled too now "You want me to beg sweetheart, is that it?" he asked " 'cause I'll do it"
you chuckled sweetly " I've heard you beg plenty of times before baby, it has gotten old" you joked
"Please princess" he prayed nonetheless "I promise I'll make it up to you," he said 
"I thought we'd already established you don't have the money"
"That's not what I meant" he murmured, his eyes trained on the agent walking past him, until he was sure he could speak again "I'll make you come as many times as that perfect body of yours can take"
A breath got caught in your throat 
"Javi..."
"I'll do anything baby, anything at all that you ask me I'll do it, just please let me see you," he sighed "I just need to feel you... and hear you, and have you all to myself for even just a second"
"I-"
"I miss you" he interrupted you "fuck I miss you so much" he clutched the phone in his hand " 'just need to see you, baby"
You let out a deep breath, begging your mind to switch up on what you knew it had already decided.
Your fingers slowly twisted around the phone's chord as you surrendered to your destiny, to your only weakness.
"this will never happen again, Javier, we clear?"
"yes 'mam"
"you have twenty minutes to get here or I'm calling my client back"
"I'm on my way baby"
__ __ __
The door hadn't even closed that his lips were on you.
His strong hands gripped your waist and felt all of what they could.
You struggled to not stumble backward, but his fingers gripping your hair so as not to leave any space between you, prevented you from it.
"A hi would have been nice" you smiled as he ducked to kiss your neck.
"hi sweetheart" he carelessly murmured against your skin, one of his hands finding your ass.
“god I missed you" he groaned, leaning away just an inch to properly look at you.
"you know, you could have called any of your other women..." you raised an eyebrow.
"what other women?" he said with a smugness only Javier F. Peña could ever get away with.
You couldn't help but laugh "What can I offer you, water, food, anything?"
" I'm not hungry for food sweetheart" his grip on you got tighter 
"Mh" you bit down a grin "and what exactly are you hungry for, agent?"
He chuckled, his nose gently brushing yours "How 'bout I show you?" he asked, giving your lips a quick peck and starting towards the couch, as it was the closest surface.
"na-ah" you stopped him "We're going to the bedroom this time, you can wait five more seconds" you scolded, ignoring his frustrated sigh and getting out of his hold to walk towards your room as he followed like a lost puppy.
"There," you said, closing the door after he entered "wasn't so hard now was it?"
He wasted no time getting all over you once more, his lips, his hands, every part of him was claiming you like a lost treasure.
"I have a surprise for you" you murmured, distracting him from his work on your neck.
"oh yeah, what's that?"
You didn't answer, just slowly, excruciatingly slowly, started slipping your black silk robe off.
Javi's mouth turned to sand the moment it fell at your feet.
You were wearing what he could only describe as every men's ticket to heaven, or hell perhaps.
It was a fire red lingerie set, with small panties and an almost see-through bra, but what really got Javier contemplating if perhaps god really existed, were the stockings adorning your legs, and especially that small bow on the hem of each of them.
"fuck" he breathed "You're too good to me" he murmured, hesitating to touch you, as if the moment he did, you would dissipate into thin air
"I know I am"
"Is this what you were wearing to see your client?" he asked, his hand finally finding your waist
You shook your head "No, I wore this just for you"
" you did?" he breathed, his eyes not knowing were on your body to focus.
"I know how you like red"
He let out a small laugh "I think it's just become my favorite color"
He was so overwhelmed with all the possible things he could and wanted to do to you at that moment that he found himself leaning in to just kiss you.
His tongue parted your lips and explored your whole mouth as his fingers traced the lace of your panties.
If this was heaven, then Javier was happy he died.
"Please get on the bed" he instructed with what resembled more of a beg.
You did as told, observing with amusement the lust in his pupils.
His eyes didn't leave you for even a second as he took his gun and badge out of his jeans and placed them on the nightstand and not even when he took, or better, threw his shirt off.
"you scared I might disappear?" you joked
"I'm scared I might wake up" he answered, finally stepping in front of you just to kneel before you.
His digits trailed the fabric on your leg until they reached the hem, and that's when his lips came to play.
he gently picked up your left leg and started leaving hot, desperate kisses starting from your ankle up until he reached your naked thigh.
By the time he'd done it to both your legs your body's temperature had risen a worrying amount.
His eyes found yours again and he could have come right there in his pants just by the sight of your reddened cheeks and caged lips.
"Open your legs for me, sweet girl"
You did as told without hesitation.
He slowly took your panties off, and let out an adoring sigh.
He grabbed both your legs and placed them on his shoulders, before bending down to kiss the inside of your thighs, sending goosebumps up your spine.
"god, the woman you are" he breathed, his eyes fixated on your core.
"Please Javi" you whimpered
And as always, the teasing was over the moment he heard that sweet voice of yours.
He dove in, taking your pussy into his mouth.
"oh god," you breathed, clutching his head to your body and falling back on the bed.
No high felt this good. If Javier had to choose a way to go, this would be it, his head between your thighs and you moaning beneath him.
His tongue spread your folds hungrily, tasting and licking up and down so that each inch of you had been worshipped, before starting to focus on your clit.
His tongue swirled around over your nub and your back arched off the bed, a high moan climbing up your throat.
"Fuck, baby" you cried, your eyes shut in bliss and your fingers gripping his locks.
The feeling of his mustache and the tip of his nose occasionally hitting your skin was only heightening your pleasure.
While one of his hands remained on your thigh, one traveled upwards until it could freely grope and feel your tits.
Your nipples were perked under the feeble fabric of your bra, and he groaned lowly as he gently toyed with one of them.
You could only let out a desperate moan.
His tongue kept lapping at you, focusing on your nub and occasionally exploring your heat or threatening your entrance until you were panting and squirming under him.
his hold on your leg tightened when he felt your stomach start to shake as your orgasm approached.
"Javi!" you could only cry, once his mouth finally sent you over the edge.
You gripped his hair for dear life as you breathed his name over and over.
He did not stop until you had fully come down your high, and even then, he hesitated before leaning away.
You locked eyes as you both caught your breath, a grin tugging at both your lips before he climbed on top of you and kissed you, your taste still lingering in his mouth.
His dick was fighting against his jeans for room to grow, and your hands roaming closer to where he needed you definitely didn't help.
he let out a low groan once you palmed the bulge in his pants, and you smiled softly.
"Fuck, sweetheart" he growled, kissing the skin beneath your ear 
"What?" you asked playfully
"I need to fuck you"
"need?" you raised an eyebrow, stifling a grin
"yeah, need" he nodded, unwillingly climbing off the bed to unfasten his belt and take off his jeans in record time.
In the meantime, you took off your bra, making the conscious decision of leaving your stockings on.
By the look of it, he was pleased with the idea.
His cock was hard and already leaking some precum, and even if you'd seen him desperate before, today he seemed even more.
You were gonna talk to him later, now you had a more pressing matter at hand.
"come here" you invited him, shuffling up the bed and spreading your legs.
He immediately obeyed, coming down on top of you to nestle between your thighs, and melting into your mouth.
He kissed you deep and through, like he dreamed of doing all day and all last night (even if he didn't tell you that), and you whimpered weakly into his mouth, as your arms came up behind his neck.
"God I missed you" he breathed
"you saw me the day before yesterday javi"
"yeah, and that's what?" he asked, leaving another quick kiss on your lips "More than 24 hours without kissing this perfect mouth of yours?" he said "I call that torture"
You chuckled lightly "Careful there, that's what addiction sounds like"
"Yeah, well maybe I am addicted"
You smiled again "now, I don't think your colleagues at the DEA would like the sound of that" you joked.
"then I'll quit," he said 
"You'll quit?" you teased
"Yeah" he kissed you "I'll quit and then we'll buy a farm in Texas and spend the rest of our lives like this"
You felt your heart speed up at that childish, unrealizable vision, and yet, you couldn't help but smile.
"I like the sound of that," you said, because it was the truth, because you did like all the impossible plans Javi'd made for your future over the course of all your meetings.
It started as a silly joke, but each time it grew to be something more, you could feel it in his tone, in the way he'd stroke your cheek as he told you about how many dogs you'd keep on the farm.
He was the one that started it, but after a while, you joined him. You contributed with your own hopes, your own dreams, and so, those hours spent together became much more than sex, you became much more than a prostitute and a DEA agent, you became dreamers, and for a few moments, that's all you stayed, as everything else disappeared.
"yeah? I do too, sweetheart" he breathed, kissing you once more before finally positioning himself at your entrance.
Your cries mixed with his groans as he slowly entered you.
One of his hands was on your cheek while the other one kept your legs on his waist so he could hit the angle he knew would make your eyes roll to the back of your head.
"fuck baby" he growled softly, starting his slow but oh-so-deep pace as you gripped his shoulders.
That's the thing about Javier, he was always sweet.. gentle. when you first met him you thought he was gonna be another overworked man looking for a way to relieve some stress, but he was everything but.
He cared, maybe a dangerous amount.
"oh my god" you moaned, wrapping your legs around his waist.
"I know baby, I know" he murmured, picking up his pace and sinking deeper inside of you.
He was mesmerized by your body underneath his, by your tits bouncing with his movements, by your lips between your teeth, by the way you shut your eyes once the feeling overwhelmed you.
He wanted to take a picture and keep it in his wallet, fuck, he wanted the sight to be tattooed inside his eyelids.
"god you're amazing" he whispered, dipping down to suck on your breasts as you moaned and whimpered.
"fuck, sweetheart" he breathed, coming back up to kiss your mouth.
Your moans filled the room, growing louder and louder until the creaks of the mattress couldn't be heard anymore.
"please" you begged in just a whisper "Please don't stop"
He pressed his forehead to yours, both of you near hyperventilating as he thrusted over and over again, lost in the feeling of you and everything you brought with you.
"I couldn't even if I wanted to baby" he groaned "You feel too good," he said.
"Oh my god!" you moaned, as pressure built in your belly and his cock stretched you so well "Right there Javi, right there" you whimpered "Please-" 
"come for me baby" he urges "Give me all you've got"
And just like that, you did, your back and neck arched from the bed as you let out what could only be described as an animalistic moan.
Javier forced himself not to blink so as not to miss a second of the artwork occurring beneath him.
He was so distracted by your beauty in fact, that he didn't remember to pull out, and it was only after you opened your eyes that he realized.
"oh shit" he whispered, worry taking over his face.
You smiled, still blissful "Don't worry" you reassured him, reaching your hand to stroke his cheek.
You moved some sweaty hair out of his face, and he did the same, a joyful smile finding its way on both your faces.
"You're incredible baby" he kissed you much more gently now
"you're not so bad yourself agent" you teased, giving him another quick peck before he halfheartedly pulled out and collapsed beside you.
His hand reached on the nightstand for his cigarettes, and he lighted one as his other arm wrapped around you to keep you close.
You rested your head on his chest as he took a drag before he offered it to you.
You accepted, inhaling and exhaling slowly before returning the cigarette.
You raised your head to look at him better 
"so what's going on?"
He hesitated before returning your look "Things are messed up right now" he answered vaguely
"aren't they always?"
"yeah" a cloud of smoke escaped his mouth again "but now ever more"
"mh" you hummed, contemplating "I'm sorry" you kissed his peck "I'm sure everything will be alright though, you're Javier Peña after all"
He chuckled drily at that " 'm not sure that's a good thing right now"
A small smirk tugged at your lips all of a sudden as a question came to you "If things are so messed up right now, you think it's a good idea to be here?"
"they can wait"
you snorted "Pablo Escobar can wait?"
"for you? " he said "The whole world can wait for you"
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jensettermandu · 6 months
Text
doppler effect - jennie kim
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genre;smut
pairing;student!jennie x professor g!p reader (everyone is of age)
content;praising, age gap (21, 27)
words;6k
masterlist
"Hi, professor!" Jennie chirped and you looked up from your laptop that was on your desk at the front of the classroom. You glanced towards the door to see the last few students piling out of the room before looking back at the girl who stood in front of your desk with a smile.
Kim Jennie, 21.
The worst student you have ever had in your classroom and this was your first semester and first-ever job as a college professor. You were young for a professor, 27 and it wasn't common for people your age to become professors this early. One thing you could brag about was how you had always been a prodigy when it came to your subject...The same couldn't be said by the girl in front of you.
You couldn't even stress how bad she was at physics. It was mind-blowing how bad she was and you were wondering why she even picked this class up in the first place since she joined mid-term.
"Yes, Miss Kim." You said, half-interested before looking back at your screen. You tried to be enthusiastic but you just found students like her annoying, but you tried not to show it. Annoying in the way that she would sit through the lessons, look like she was listening to every word you say and then hand in the most half-assed papers possible and you had caught on that she simply wasn't listening but pretending that she was. It felt like your class to her was a joke and she would honestly be better off not being in it.
It went quiet for a few seconds and you looked up to see her looking impatiently at the door where less than a handful of people were heading out. "Can you close the door?" Jennie asked, slight irritation lacing her voice as she spoke to the last guy that was about to leave. He murmured something, but still closed it as requested by the girl in front of you.
She smiled again once it was just you and her, looking back at you as you two met gazes.
"I'm failing your class." She stated as a matter of fact and you hummed, scratching your temple as you leaned back in your swivel chair, resting your elbows on the armrests. Rolling the chair back a bit to stretch out your legs, the girl watching every move.
"I know." Jennie nodded at your simple words.
"And so...I was wondering if there is anything I could do to not fail." The brunette prompted about to step closer to the desk, but ultimately stopped as you shut her down.
"Study and pay attention in class." You replied, playing with the rings on your fingers as you looked at them. Her lips parted in disbelief and she was wondering if she was maybe too discreet with her words, she was trying to go somewhere else with this. You were oblivious to it since things like that didn't cross your mind.
"Isn't there anything else that I could possibly do to pass your class...Like an exchange-." She widened her eyes as you cut her off bluntly and she sighed. "Get a tutor, they usually work. I've had some students that got help from tutors and the results were quite astonishing." You told her since you've had students struggle before as physics wasn't an easy subject. They maybe weren't as bad as Jennie, so the tutor would be up for a challenge with her, but it could possibly work. No matter how much you disliked the way she simply didn't seem to care about your class and how that annoyed you, you still had hope and wanted every one of your students to pass.
"You could ask someone in this class for help." You said and offered her a small smile before rolling the chair closer to the desk again and going back to your laptop.
The gears in Jennie's head were turning, fast.
"I don't know anyone in this class, professor...Most of my friends are on the other side of the campus studying fine arts." Jennie admitted since this was her only class on this side of the campus since she belonged on the other side too...Majoring in fine arts. Her only knowledge about physics was from high school and even then she barely passed. This only made you wonder even more what the actual fuck she was doing in your class.
"You don't have to know anyone to ask for help after classes, Miss Kim." You reassured her, your gaze staying on the screen and missing the girl who rolled her eyes at your words.
"I can't do that," Jennie said with a soft voice and you frowned, looking up at her with a confused hum.
"I am too shy to just ask a stranger for help." Jennie wasn't exactly lying, she was a very shy and introverted person, there were a few rare instances where she wasn't all too shy. You licked your lips as you thought about it, the hope rose in her eyes seeing that you were thinking about something- all the hope deflated when you opened your mouth and nothing that she wanted to hear spilled. "I could ask someone for you...Stacy has tutored before, I am sure she would be up for it." You offered, being kind and understanding of her situation.
"I won't be comfortable enough to see her after school...Social anxiety, there are only certain people that I am comfortable with like friends, family...professors." The girl continued to try and hint at what she actually meant right from the start. Watching you scratch the back of your head in thought again.
Jennie had honestly never met such an oblivious person ever in her whole life.
"I'm sorry Miss Kim, but I don't think I have anything else to offer to you that would raise your grades." You gave her an apologetic smile.
"Couldn't you...possibly take some of your time and tutor me?" She asked and bit her lower lip in anticipation.
"I don't know." You said, you only wanted to go home after being done here and not spend time tutoring one of your students who clearly didn't know anything about physics.
"Please? You could just tutor me for like an hour or so...I won't need more than an hour. You're the only one I would ever be comfortable enough with to do this." Hint after hint.
You heaved a sigh at the desperate plea coming from the girl. You looked at her, she looked somewhat miserable (miserable because of your obliviousness to all the hints.) with a small frown and eyes that were looking at you full of hope. It would really suck for you to have a student fail your class in your first year as a professor, wouldn't it? You always liked being the best and never failing- which meant not having students fail your class either because that would mean that you failed.
"Fine Miss Kim, but I can only do Thursdays and Fridays at 10 pm...if having your Fridays busy is a problem then I guess you will have to either sacrifice those or fail." You ended up offering, to use the two days you had evening classes from 5 pm to 9 pm.
"Not tomorrow though, starting this Friday." You added that Thursday was tomorrow and you had plans.
"Oh my God, yes that works. Thank you, really...You won't regret agreeing to this, I promise." You only nodded and Jennie gave you a smile before hurrying to the door that you still wondered why she needed it closed.
Friday.
Jennie had hurried towards your classroom after first making it to her dorm to make sure to change into something less...modest. She felt dumb, but she only had herself to blame for joining a class she had absolutely no business joining.
You looked up at the door that closed to see your least promising student in physics, the girl turned around and beamed a smile at you as she ran her fingers through her hair that had gotten slightly dishevelled from the wind that blew through it as she was basically running through the empty halls.
"You're two minutes late...You can sit down." You redirected the girl with a gesture of your hand and instead of heading for your desk she pursed her lips and went to sit down at the first row.
It had been 30 minutes already and you had been explaining everything in detail to Jennie, simplifying everything for her, making it look like something that a kindergartener would understand. Drawing and writing on the chalkboard as Jennie "watched" and "listened" while scribbling down whatever notes that would help with getting her grades up.
This was not how she planned this going, she wasn't paying any attention, instead, she was trying to figure out a way to get closer and make it clear that she wanted to put in a different effort into getting a higher grade and not fail your class. Her clothes didn't even seem to catch a glimpse of your attention, no double take on what she had on, no slightly longer stare, no checking out. Were you asexual? Just as she was walking through the halls earlier she had an older professor push his glasses up and look at her pass by.
"This is the next assignment you will have to turn in, so I will be here now two times a week to help you with it after school." You said as you finished explaining the assignment to her and turned to look at the girl who was busy chewing on the top of her pen while staring into the abyss. Now you couldn't be sure if she had listened at all during the past 40 minutes you spent simplifying the assignment for her or not. Did you just waste your time? It was possible.
You walked up to the girl who was stuck with her gaze on the papers in front of her and as you looked down at the papers, they were filled with doodles and half-assed barely readable notes. "Kim." You said and the girl jumped in her place, hitting her knee under the table with the pen that was in her mouth dropping to the little desk with a clatter.
"Were you listening to anything I just explained to you?" You calmly asked the girl who trailed her eyes up your lanky body, lingering her gaze slightly below your waist before looking up at you through her lashes. She bit her lower lip for extra effect, blinking her eyes in innocence, but felt her self-confidence crumbling under your gaze that did not change a single bit...Had she overestimated her own looks? You were making her insecure. Or was she simply stupid for thinking that a professor would look at her in any other way?
She hummed and you hummed back, not convinced.
"So in short, what's the Doppler effect?" You asked since it was part of the assignment, she needed to know what it was to be able to do the equations for it. Jennie froze and glanced subtly over at the chalkboard with the keyword Doppler effect in her brain...She spotted it on the board. "It describes the changes in the frequency of any kind of...sound or light wave...produced by a moving source with...respect to an observer," Jennie explained while continuously glancing between you and the board and you decided to play stupid since you were well aware that she had no clue unless she would look at the board for the answer.
"That's great Miss Kim...How about we cut it short today and you use these last 15 minutes we have left to walk back to your dorm." You suggested since you had 15 minutes left.
Jennie heaved a sigh and nodded her head, she had to use her brain for something else either way. She needed to figure out how to get what she wanted because this tutoring deal she got was not it.
"Make sure to start on your assignment for the next time that we meet." You said while gathering your stuff.
Jennie had no clue what assignment you were talking about as she walked out. She would have to look into it.
Thursday.
Jennie did end up looking into the assignment because even if she was half listening to you last Friday, the way you were explaining it to her caught some of her interest. It also gave her the opportunity to do what she was about to do. Jennie glanced over at you to see you being occupied with your laptop for the moment while she was working on the assignment, free to ask for your help whenever she needed it.
She grabbed her phone to look at herself in it, fixing her hair before reaching for a button of the little cardigan she was wearing that wasn't covering a lot, but she made it cover a bit less. She glammed up her sex appeal before grabbing her paper and standing up and with gracious steps she made her way over to you in the short skirt she was wearing and the v-necked cardigan.
"Could you please check this out for me?" Jennie asked, her voice dripping like sweet honey from between her lips as she walked around your desk. You hummed and looked up at the girl who handed you over her paper- you almost got thrown off by the enticing scent of citrus fruits radiating from her (she had made sure to put on extra lotion and perfume before coming) and grabbed the paper from her.
Her gears were turning again because you still didn't have any reactions or anything that gave her the green light. She was honestly ready to try coming naked next time to see if you would react to that.
She quickly made herself comfortable on your desk, crossing her legs as she sat as close as possible to you without making it all too obvious- she wasn't trying to make it weird. Her gaze was on your leg slightly bouncing under the table while you read the paper...Was that a possible reaction? Was it her scent? Proximity? Clothes? Body? It was something and Jennie was going to take it as a reaction even if the case would most likely be that you bounced your knee any other time.
"Is it any good?" Jennie asked, her hands gripping the edge of the desk on each side of her thighs before leaning forward slightly. You hummed, still reading and when you glanced to look at the girl you assumed was standing in front of you on your left you were met by smooth naked thighs crossed over one another.
The enticing scent of oranges was much stronger and you quickly looked back at the paper in your hands, looking away from the thick and creamy thighs that were on your desk.
Your brain had already dismissed what you saw as you went back to the paper.
Jennie bit her lower lip after catching your gaze on her legs for what was a split second, but it was one step closer to where she wanted this to go. She reached her hand up to the cardigan and made sure to part it more around her cleavage before uncrossing her legs and leaning against the desk instead of sitting on it.
"You could explain this further." You said, using your pen to point at what you had in mind, looking up at Jennie who leaned forwards to you to look at the paper. You watched as she pushed her hair to one side so it wouldn't get in the way (of blocking the view of her cleavage) of her eyes as she looked at the paper in your hold. Now you felt unsure about what was going on. Was this normal? It felt a bit seductive. It didn't take you a lot of fighting to not look down and you looked at her side profile as she was almost leaning over you.
"Where?" Jennie questioned unsure and glanced up, catching your eyes with her intense ones and you quickly looked at the paper pointing where.
"This one here?" Jennie asked as she pointed where you had just pointed with the tip of your pen, you hummed, nodding your head. Getting a tiny bit jittery in your body as you spun the pen between your fingers to occupy your mind with that.
"Could you please elaborate on how I should proceed further for you?" Her tone was far from innocent and you almost flinched when her hand that was pointing at the paper fell to your knee and you couldn't decipher if that sentence held a double meaning to it or not.
You cleared your throat and pushed your chair back, rolling towards the board, the hold that was on your knee disappearing as you grabbed the piece of white chalk to get to explain.
Jennie bit down on her lower lip, eyes intense on you, trying to ignore the wet gush in her skimpy underwear. Maybe she wouldn't have to come naked to get your attention after all.
Friday.
"I elaborated on what you pointed out last time, professor." Jennie happily explained as she was yet again by your desk, leaning against it as she handed over the paper to you. It seemed like she had somewhat of a more enthusiastic approach to your subject now after the first two tutoring sessions which was quite good to see.
Jennie watched you read through her paper as you played with the rings on your fingers, the girl trapping her bottom lip between her teeth as her devilish little brain was starting a fire in the pits of hell, hotter than the sun. She had to get through today because she may have found some bit of interest in your subject, but not enough to keep coming here for actual tutoring.
Crossing her legs again, she turned her body towards you and subtly used her foot brushing it against your leg. Barely touching you, not gaining your attention as you were engrossed in the paper she handed to you. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips as she innocently and by "accident" brushed her foot up your leg. She watched your body tense up, shaking your head the slightest, but not diverting your attention- probably to not make it weird and thinking that she did it by accident.
She honestly felt like kicking you in the shin because you were not breaking.
Once again her foot rubbed against your leg and this time it felt like it was intentional, the second you looked up with raised eyebrows, the girl knocked over your pen holder that was beside her, letting out a faux gasp. You pushed your swivel chair back to pick up the few pens that fell under the desk, but a hand on your shoulder stopped you.
"I knocked it over so I will pick it up...I'm sorry for the mess." Jennie said with such sweetness in her mouth that honey probably couldn't compare. She pushed you back into your swivel chair as she slid off the desk, her hand running down your arm as she crouched down and got on her knees. "It's fine, accidents happen." You reassured her, your legs tensing up as her hip brushed against your left leg and you looked away since the only thing that was out was her ass that was barely covered by the short skirt- her upper body under the desk, the student on all her fours.
You watched the time tick away on the clock that was on the wall, listening to the shuffling under your desk as you tried to not think about it.
"I was thinking..." Jennie trailed off as she never picked up a single pen from the floor and instead got on her knees facing you. You hummed in confusion and looked down at the girl, this time you couldn't even try to hide anything like all the other times as your eyes widened in shock.
"I was thinking, professor that..." Jennie repeated as her hands trailed up to your knees and you were trying to think of what to do when she spread your legs. "We could maybe do an exchange instead." The girl suggested, biting her lip and looking up at you through her lashes with innocent, but suggestive eyes as her hands ran up your legs slowly.
"Miss Kim- what...come on, get up." You tried, being at a loss for words because of what was happening right now because you would never think that something like this would happen to you out of all the people in the world. You grabbed her hands to try and stop her, but she gripped onto your thighs.
"It could be a one-time thing...or more than just once as long as my grades stay up until I graduate, it doesn't matter," Jennie spoke, her voice sultry, as hot as a scorching July sun, her fingers slipping from under your hands and trailing patterns lightly on your thighs.
You should stand up right now and get her on her feet and get all of these ideas out of her head because it was wrong. It was against all your morals, but something was stopping you. "Kim, I could report you for this and have you expelled." You warned, hoping that would get her up since you couldn't get yourself to do it no matter how wrong it was.
Was it wrong to find her extremely hot? Yes? No?
"I know, but why would you if I let you lend my mouth for good grades...Could be more than just my mouth, professor. Whatever you please and are into." Jennie offered seduction radiating through her whole body and your breathing got heavier. You honestly would push away anyone else, but there was just something special about the girl who annoyed you with her ignorance in your classroom. Was it perhaps that she was the first and only student to ever pay no attention to what you were trying to teach?
"I- I- Jen- Miss Kim." You cursed yourself for stuttering and almost calling her by her first name. Jennie's eyes never left yours as her hands were running up your legs again, this time your eyes betraying you and looking down at her unbuttoned shirt. Your lungs drain off the air at her cleavage in your line of sight.
"Jennie works, babe too...I know some people are into slut, whore and bitch too, I don't mind those either since humiliation is quite arousing don't you think. I find it quite humiliating already how I am on my knees in front of you for better grades." The girl spoke, her fingers running over the bulge that was forming in your pants, her fingers dancing over your clothed dick like ghosts. The dirty words in her beautiful mouth created a knot in your stomach. She smiled brightly at you. "I do have a preference for good girl, princess, or angel since I've always been a good girl, don't you think? On my knees in front of you like a good girl." Your hips bucked the slightest into her hand when she palmed you, sitting between your legs now as if you hadn't pushed her away or said anything that clearly stated that you didn't want her to continue.
You gave the green light. You did not say no to her. You have only stated what the consequences were and she didn't care about them.
"Jen- Miss Kim, this is strictly forbidden and wrong, please get up before someone sees and we both get in trouble." You said, remembering that anyone could just walk in even if most people had already left. Just this position you two were in would get you both in a shit ton of trouble. Jennie smirked and teasingly played with the button of your black pants.
"I locked the door already and there will be no trouble as long as we keep quiet about it...I don't kiss and tell, do you?" Like the idiot that you were for letting this go so far you shook your head, practically glued to the swivel chair as the girl undid your button. "I just want to be your good girl and make you feel good for better grades prof- what would you like me to call you?" Jennie stopped herself from unzipping your pants, looking back up at you wanting to know what you wanted to be addressed as if this was going to happen.
"Mommy? Miss? Professor? Teacher? Maybe you're into daddy? Or just a first-name basis?" Jennie asked with a tilt of her head as she palmed your outline that was now prominent through your pants as just those dirty words and her rubbing on you was enough to get you going. "Y/n- just Y/n is fine or professor." You swallowed, nodding your head and a smile grew on her lips as she went back to looking at your crotch. Her nimble fingers slipped your zipper down and she tugged your pants, lifting your hips so she could get them down just enough.
You watched as she licked her bottom lip, her fingers brushing over your already hard cock. "Do you want me to put it in my mouth?" Jennie asked, looking up at you through her lashes you grabbed hold of her wrist, her fingers getting stopped from bushing over your dick so gently. Jennie pouted slightly and you pushed the swivel chair, the girl gasping as you pulled her up, manhandling her and she felt her underwear sticking to her as she got up on her feet. You stood up, towering over the girl who backed up into the desk until her ass was against it.
"Did you plan this?" You questioned and she leaned back even more as you came closer, reaching behind her and pushing everything aside. Her breath hitched as you grabbed her by her hips and easily lifted her onto the desk, Jennie squirming the slightest at the cold wood under her ass. You weren't stupid, you noticed on the first day what she was trying to do, but you did your best to ignore it since you refused to believe that it was actually happening. "Yes, professor." She answered you with an innocent glint in her eyes as she bit her lower lip again while still looking at you through her lashes and head tilted down.
You reached for her face, grabbing onto her cheeks with your fingers and making her release her lower lip, forcing her to look up at you and Jennie felt the heat course through her whole body all the way to her throbbing clit. "Then you came prepared, didn't you?" She nodded her head at your question, her legs spreading more for you to get even closer, luring you in and dooming you. She reached her hand inside her bra and took out the rectangular blue packet. "I tried my best to guess your size," Jennie mumbled, embarrassed about how she had spent her time staring at your crotch in class, trying to figure out your size before she even thought of this. The girl had always somehow gotten off to you, something about you talking and sounding so smart made her panties wet and her clit to tingle.
You took it from her with a scoff at her words as you let go of her, Jennie's breathing heavy with lust. "So that's what you do during my class?" She inhaled deeply at the question. "Yes...you're the only hot professor on campus and most guys in my classes are...well, you know." Jennie did the limp wrist and you put the pack between your lips and hummed, running your hands along her smooth thighs that felt like silk while you snaked them under her sinfully short skirt. You felt how her legs tensed up around you the slightest as you made it to her underwear, hooking your fingers around them.
Jennie's heart picked up at the thought that she would get fucked by you, her hot professor that was manhandling her on top of the desk. "So you want to be a good girl?" You mumbled with the pack between your lips and she watched as you slowly pulled the underwear down, going down and getting them off her legs, getting the skimpy and drenched underwear of her slick pussy. "I want to be your good girl, professor," Jennie replied and you put the underwear to the side, the girl leaning back onto her palms and spreading her legs for you. "Your good little stress reliever if you want that." She spoke in a humid tone as her short skirt rode up and exposed her glistening pussy, her wetness leaking down onto the wooden desk.
You looked over at her, the buttoned shirt unbuttoned halfway and messed up at the top, showing her white bra and cleavage, her eyes right on you with her legs open, awaiting you eagerly yet patiently to prove that she was a good girl. You had already gone this far so you saw no reason to stop now as you pulled your boxers down, Jennie's eyes instantly going down and looking at your hard cock that was leaking with precum. "A good girl for better grades?" You questioned as you opened the pack and took out the rubber. Jennie hummed, her tone already up an octave from her eagerness and arousal as she watched you pull the condom over your length.
"A good girl for your cock, professor...Grades can be talked about after." Jennie breathed out and reached for your shirt, pulling you to her and between her legs. She did not care about grades right now as she was feeling too needy to think about them. She just wanted to know what it would be like to get fucked by you into the desk. "You're being eager now." You warned, not liking how she pulled onto you and you grabbed her hand that was on your shirt. Jennie let out a gasp as you pushed her down, making her lay on the desk with her back.
"Please...I can take it all just fuck me." Jennie begged with need, feeling your cock against her soaked pussy as you pressed against her. Holding onto her one wrist, her other hand holding onto your shoulder. You hummed at her plea and reached between you two and grabbed hold of your cock.
"You will take it all?" You asked while running your tip between her puffy folds before finding her hole, but not pushing into her yet. "Yes, all, everything, however much you do, I will take it all...I'm a good girl." She let out desperately, making you let out a breathless chuckle at the neediness in her voice. "We will have to see if you're such a good girl then." You breathed out and her grip on your shoulder tightened as you pushed into her, a moan pushing through her lips as her head slumped back against the desk. Jennie tensed up at how you were stretching her out, pushing into her fully, leaving no space between you two.
You groaned while slowly moving in and out of her, Jennie letting out light breaths, feeling how your cock caressed her sopping and throbbing walls. You moved your hands above her head and gripped the edge of the desk, holding onto it to be able and fuck her tight cunt harder. With each thrust, you picked up your pace and went harder. "Fuck, fuck, fuck...Please fuck me harder." Jennie whined, gasping as you didn't hold back at her request, the lewd sounds her pussy was letting out travelled across the big classroom together with her gasps and cries.
"Tell me that I am a good girl...Look how good I am taking you." Jennie moaned out with cries, her back arching at how perfectly you fit into her, her pussy snug and just for you as she so badly wanted to be a good girl. You groaned as her walls squeezed around your cock, her sopping cunt being a tight fit even if she had her legs spread. She gripped onto your shirt and pulled you closer, her chest pressing into you as the desk creaked with a few things falling over from how it was shaken. "You really do take dick like a good girl, don't you." Jennie hummed with a blissful smile with her head thrown back and legs wrapping around your waist and arms around your shoulder, clinging onto you so she would stay in place.
"I want to be your good girl...for you to fuck my little pussy whenever you want to, to fill me up until it's leaking from me and I can't walk." Her breath hit your ear as her mouth was dirty, but so hot.
"You're doing so good right now, you're taking it all so well that I might as well fill you up the next time." Jennie moaned at that, already imagining how it would feel to have you shoot all your cum into her greedy pussy that wanted more.
"Please, I want it all in me, I want to take it all."
You gripped harder onto the desk, feeling how it was all building up in the pit of your stomach. The girl under you moaning with her head thrown back, legs spasming around you, arched back and eyes closed, but mouth agape. Her clit was throbbing and she felt the satisfaction from having her tight and needy cunt filled with your cock. Each stroke was filling her stomach up to her chest with heat, spreading further down to her legs as she was getting close now.
"You look so good while taking cock in your pretty pussy...Fuck you feel good." You moaned at how she clenched more around you, your head falling against her shoulder and you continued to pound her just like she wanted and begged for.
"Touch me, please...I want you to play with my pussy so I can cum." Jennie cried out, feeling so close yet unable to get there without you playing with her throbbing heat that you were pounding into. You moved up, propping yourself up with your forearm beside her head and looking down at the girl, your right hand moved down between you two and you pulled her skirt up more. "Open your mouth." You ordered and she obliged right away, parting her lips just enough for you to stick two fingers in it. Jennie coated them in her spit and you pulled them out of her mouth. Finding it between her thighs with your hand too you found the swollen bundle of nerves with your fingers covered in her spit as lube.
"Oh- oh fuck...Oh my god." Jennie gasped out a moan when you pressed onto her clit, rubbing it with enough pressure to make her legs spasm fully around you and each moan got louder and higher in pitch. You bit down on your lower lip and watched as her brows furrowed and she pushed her chest into you.
"Y/n." Jennie squealed out a moan as she reached her orgasm with heat shooting through her whole body and the way her walls constricted around you while throbbing more than they already were as she continued to whine made you moan as you filled the condom with all your semen. Her breathing was heavy as you stopped rubbing her sensitive clit, Jennie felt the aftershocks of her orgasm and you pushed yourself up with her legs unwrapping from around you.
You hummed and looked down as you pulled out of her, taking a step back and removing the condom, tying it and wrapping it in tissue after taking one out from a pack that was on the desk. Putting it on the desk in the meantime. "Was I a good enough girl?" Jennie hopefully asked as she managed to push herself up to sit, her legs still spread open in front of you as she watched you fix your pants and slump down into the swivel chair. You licked your lips, watching Jennie's gaping hole clench at that with her juices leaking out of her pink pussy.
"Think you might get an A this semester Miss Kim." Jennie grinned at that as she now had a reason to look forward to your classes...Always being up for getting pounded by her hot professor. 
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