#a writes

There was plenty of evidence to help you understand how he was feeling. It was in the heaviness of his breath; the stomp of his feet against the floor; the scowl that had frozen his warm smile over; the deep, deep trouble behind his usually calm eyes. It could have been any of that. But truly, what it was, was the dust particles floating through the air, catching in the light that slipped through the garage’s single window. They only flew with each thud of his bare fist against the punching bag, the one that had sat, untouched, for years now. 

When you married him, he had suggested to just throw it away or donate it—no need to have a visual reminder of the violence he was so desperate to leave behind. He had found God, and He had helped him find you. The new Reverend was not interested in letting his sinful, hateful past thread between the fibers of his new life. You, however, had insisted he keep it. Let it take up space. Let it be there, ‘just in case.’ And today, years, later, case there was.

He could feel your presence in the doorway. You knew it, too, that your presence, leaning against the doorway, filled his peripherals with each grunt that escaped him. You didn’t dare speak, though. Not out of fear, but out of respect for him, his emotions, and his commitment to his calling. He wouldn’t share with you. He couldn’t. The sacramental seal was the last thing he would betray. But still, you’d wait for him to say anything. And as the first, slow tear trickled down from his eye, mingling with the sweat that had dripped into the collar he had yet to remove, his mouth finally opened.

“I can’t tell y—”

“I know.”

He finally stopped punching, his head sagging forward against the bag. You stepped into the garage, stopping just in front of him, and erached toward his throat. With sharp, efficient care, you undid the small, brass clasp. The damp, rigid plastic of the Roman collar came away, peeling off his neck like a useless bandage. You let it drop. It made a tacky, pathetic sound hitting the floor.

“Monsignor Wicks, isn’t it?” you ask slowly, your voice quiet before you meet his eyes. “It’s obvious how much he doesn’t want you there.”

Jud sighs, going to go sit on the workbench on the side of the garage. Your wedding ring catches the sunlight as you follow him. 

“Every week, it’s the same shit that he forces me to listen to,” Jud breathes, letting his head fall to his hands. “I am happy to take his confession. It’s my job to help him reconcile with God. It’s my job to be the shepherd. But they expect the shepherd to be a silent, stainless vessel. And they forget that sometimes, the vessel can crack.”

“You’re shaking,” you remark, catching the tremble of his hands. 

“I’m still angry,” he replies, clenching his fists. “And I wouldn’t have to be here if I had just been less hateful in the first place.” 

“The deacon deserved it,” you quickly retort, rolling your eyes. “He sucked. He got what he had coming.” You reach for one of his clenched fists, forcing it open to place your hand in it. He finally lifts his head, meeting your eyes. “You don’t have to be the Reverend, or the shepherd, or the father, right now,” you say quietly. “You can just be Jud, if you want.” Your fingers thread between his. 

The instant those words leave your mouth, his eyes flash. Not quite hope, but certainly bent in that direction by the strength of his tension. “Your husband,” he breathes. “Just Jud.”

You nod, a thin smile on your face. 

Marriage had saved Jud. You two were young when you made your vows, barely 20 years old. Somehow, though, wise enough beyond your years to have married as soulmates. Plenty of time had passed, and still, those vows rang as true as the day they had been spoken before the lord. 

“Your husband,” he breathes once more, before letting his lips crash to yours. “It’s everywhere,” he pants between desperate kisses, leaning over you. “His words. They’re everywhere. In my head. In my mouth. I can taste his hatred. I need to make it stop. It needs to stop.”

He moves with the practiced, coiled speed of a boxer, seizing you. The bench you sat on was forgotten. He maneuvers you against the cold concrete wall, his body caging yours, blocking the humiliating light of the overhead utility strip.

His hands, thick and strong, go to his own clothing first. Once he rips his shirt off, he throws it. The motion is an aggressive rejection of the spiritual uniform, a physical act of defiance against the man who misused the collar's authority.

He doesn’t remove your clothes so much as he simply displaced them, urgently creating skin-to-skin contact. His movements are rough, driven by the frantic need to replace the vile, lingering residue of Wicks's presence with something pure, honest, and real—the reality of his wife, the reality of his marriage.

His lips fall to yours once more, his hands sliding anywhere they can, desperate to anchor himself to his greatest salvation: you. With a ragged gasp, he pulls back, but immediately brings his kisses down your neck, across your collarbone, and to your waiting breasts. 

“Is this what you need from me?” you softly pant, your eyes wide with both want and concern. 

“I need to feel you,” he replies. “I’m so mad.” His hands travel between your parted thighs, rubbing at the growing wetness of your pussy, eager to get you ready for him. “I need you,” he hisses again, tongue swirling around your peaking nipple.

“Bed,” you reply. The snap in your tone makes him look up. “It’s cold in here!” you sheepishly reply. He can’t help the whisper of a smile that takes over his lips at that moment. He lifts you against his naked body, leaving the pile of both of your clothes behind as he treks to the bedroom.

He wastes no time when he places you down, spreading yout legs wide open to slide one finger into your waiting heat. A short gasp escapes you, your hands finding his toned chest, sliding down to his rippling abs. 

“Lean down,” you huff as he slides the second finger in. “Let me kiss you.”

He smiles, endeared, as he brings his face closer to yours, his fingers thrusting at an angry pace. Your lips flutter over his neck, tracing the lines of his tattoo and down his throat. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he pants, thumb rolling your clit, now. “I need to be inside you, but I’m so upset. I don’t think I can be nice.”

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” you’re quick to reply. “And you don’t have to confess anything to me. I want you to feel better. I want to help you feel better.”

“I don’t want you to be mad at me,” he practically whines. “I can’t hold it back.”

“I couldn’t be mad if I tried.”

One final look of assurance is all it takes before Jud is sliding his hands to your hips, his thick, wide cock thrusting into you with the anger and speed of a man truly scorned. 

“He shouldn’t be allowed,” Jud grunts out, though you can barely hear him over your own moans and the slap of his skin against yours. “He shouldn’t be allowed to run a church. He’s so selfish. He’s terrible. He’s—he’s scum.”

It’s hard to focus on Jud’s emotional rant when you’re already close to seeing stars, but you try your best. “Mhm,” you manage to whine out. “He’s a poor excuse for a priest. I’m so sorry—oh my goodness—!”

The cries that you’re unable to contain bring him back to what’s in front of him: his loving, caring wife, who’s inches from a mind-boggling orgasm.

“Don’t even think about him right now, Jud,” you gasp out. “Just focus on this. And yourself. Does it feel good?”

“So good,” he mutters, his eyes relaxing as he hears you. “You feel so good. You’re everything. You’re perfect.” He pulls out slowly, chest heaving, before slamming back into you, hard enough to steal your breath. His eyes lock on yours as he begins to drive himself even harder than before. "You," he gasps out with every thrust. "I need you. This is the truth. This is the only truth."

The rage was now completely subsumed by desire. The roughness wasn't about pain, but about absolute, uncontrolled passion—the kind of messy, glorious, release that only a deeply bonded couple could share. His face was a mask of sweat and agony and intense satisfaction, his back muscles pulling tight with the strain.

You felt the tension coiling impossibly tight inside you. You were seconds away from breaking, propelled by his furious devotion.

“So close,” he groans, his head falling to your neck, hot pants escaping onto your skin. “You’re so good. You feel so good.” His eyes are shut in bliss and concentration as his hips grow impossibly faster, both of you inches from your release. 

Finally, it hits him. The sound that tears from his chest is a deep, ragged groan of pure relief, a primal sound that has nothing to do with collars or churches, and everything to do with being twenty-something, furious, and utterly loved. He trembles as he releases, his fingers rubbing over your clit with intent and devotion.

“Please give it to me,” he begs. “Let me have this from you. I know you can do it, I know you—”

“Jud!” you gasp out, back arching, toes curling. “J-Jud, Jud—yes!” Your orgams crashes over you, and his fingers drag those waves of pleasure through you until your hips are beginning to twitch from the overstimulation. Slowly, he removes his hand, his body lowering onto yours. 

The room is silent for several minutes, the sound of both of your breaths mingling with the descending sunlight that filters through the window. Finally, when your heart rate has slowed enough for your eyes to open, you speak. 

“So we can both agree that I was right about keeping the punching bag, right?”

He snorts at your remark, his eyes fluttering open as he tilts his head slightly to meet your gaze. “You can be right about whatever you want. You’re right about everything, okay? I love you.”

“I love you too.” Your voice is quiet once again, your smile small yet warm.

Eddie was completely obsessed with you. And who could blame him, you were always parading around in your little cheerleader outfit and the bow at the top of your ponytail, it was driving him insane.

It all started after summer, when Dustin started high school and entered hellfire. Your paths had never really crossed before but ever since you came into the room where he held the campaign, already yelling at your brother for making you wait, he could not stop thinking about you.

After months of just watching you in the hallways and teasing when you stopped by to get Dustin, he asked you to come watch his band play.

"I'll think about it, Munson." you teased, getting in your car and driving out, leaving him standing in the middle of the parking lot.

The next day, when you purposely dropped by to talk to your brother, he demanded an answer.

“I’m still thinking about it, okay?"

And again the next day, and the day after that and the rest of the week, and still no answer. Until it was the day of the special concert and he drove to your place to pick you up.

It took him a few seconds to knock on the door, nerves running through his body like never before. He heard two voices coming from inside, yours yelling for Dustin to get the door and Dustin’s yelling right back at you.

Eddie’s smile faded when Dustin opened the door. “Go get your sister, Henderson.”

“Dude, I told you to stop hitting on my sister, she’s not into you” He told Eddie, rolling his eyes.

“If she wasn’t into me we wouldn’t have a date tonight, but we do. So can you go get her?”

“Who is it?” you asked, making your way to the front door and quickly regretting it. You were standing in front of Eddie in an old tshirt that was basically see through and a pair of old shorts that didn’t fit your brother anymore. “Dustin, go to your room”

“What? You’re not my mom, I’m not ten” he squealed.

“I don’t care, go to your room!” You told him again and watched him leave before turning back to Eddie. You caught his gaze quickly shift from your chest back to your face and were suddenly very aware of your braless state. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“We have a date. Why aren’t you ready?”

“Well, Edward, it’s” you grabbed his wrist and turned to you, checking the time on his watch, “nine fifteen on a saturday, I planned on staying in and watching a movie with my brother”

“That nerd? Pretty sure a metal concert is more fun” he teased.

“I don’t like metal, Eddie”

“You don’t have to like metal, just have to like me” You just rolled your eyes at his words, but he was determined to get you to come. "C'mon, it's Saturday and I have weed. We can hang out and smoke something after the show."

“Fine! I’ll get dressed.” You gave in but closed the front door, making him wait outside.

You changed into a short leather skirt and a dark sweater, lace tights and high boots protecting you from the cold fall breeze. You stopped by Dustin’s room when walking back, opening the door without even knocking.

“I’m going out”

“What? You’re leaving me alone?” he squealed again, throwing the comic he was reading into the air. “What time do you come back? What do I tell mom when she gets home?”

“We already had dinner and there are snacks in the kitchen, you’ll be fine alone. I don’t know what time I’ll be back. And, you know damn well mom won’t check, she won’t even know, I’ll get in through the window. Good?”

“You’re a terrible sister,” he said.

“Love you too, Dusty!” you told him, already making your way to the front door.

The drive to the bar was silent but not too bad, you were touching up your make up on the sunvisor, smudging liner on your eyes.

“This okay?” You turned to him as he parked, “don’t wanna stand out too much”

“It’s perfect. You look great.”

You would never admit it, but that compliment made you blush.

There were about ten people at the bar, you and the workers included, but Eddie didn’t seem to mind, he had to start somewhere.

You had to admit that he looked great on stage. After an energetic thirty minute set he was sweating, hair all over the place and a wide smile on his face.

After the set he took you to his van, you knew exactly why.

You sat on the carpet side by side and he pulled a blunt out of his pocket, placing it between your lips to light it. After a couple passes the van was foggy and your minds were hazy.

In your cloudy mind you barely realized how close Eddie had gotten until his hand was on your cheeks, turning your face to his so he could blow smoke into your mouth. He held your face, watching as you took the smoke into your lungs.

His dark reddened eyes stared into yours for a beat before his lips met yours again, but this time in a kiss. It was messy but none of you cared, you just moaned when he pushed his tongue into your mouth.

Soon his left hand met your waist, holding it tight and guiding you onto his lap. He put out the blunt so he could let his hands roam under your sweater. His hands were warm, rough, but the metal of his rings and chain were still cold.

You could feel him hardening under you, barely pressing to your middle, just enough to get your entire body hot. You were out of your mind enough to grind your hips against his; once, twice.

It was only when his hands moved to unclasp your bra that you stopped in your tracks. “Eddie” you called, “Eddie, no.”

“Doll” He groaned in complaint.

“No, Eddie… we’re high.” You slid off his lap, tidying up your skirt.

"Sorry, I didn’t mean to go too far”

“No, it’s okay. I just…” you trailed off, “just don’t wanna lose my virginity in the back of a van, especially when we’re both high”

Eddie raised his brows, “so cheerleaders are actually good girls, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that smoking weed in the back of an older guy’s van is very ‘good girl’ of me”

“You know what I meant.” He leaned in for a kiss but you pulled away.

“I think we should go home” you told him, voice weak.

"Yeah, right" he backed up, climbing onto the front seat and helping you to do the same.

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked, stopping you from going into your classroom.

"Eddie" you groaned trying again to go through the door but his tall frame stopped you.

"C'mon, sweetheart, you're more mature than this. Talk to me, please"

"What do you wanna hear, Munson?" you gave in, trying to hide a smile as he took the heavy books from your arms.

"Well, from you, a lot of things but I don't think that's appropriated" You gave him a single look that ended his teasing. "Sorry. But I did really miss seeing you this week, making up excuses to come into Hellfire in your little cheer outfit”

“I go in there to pick up Dustin, you go over time a lot” you explained. You would never parade your cheer clothes for Eddie.

“Right. I’m serious though, I just wanna know why you’re avoiding me”

“Well, Edward, we almost fucked in the back of your van, that’s not exactly the kind of girl I wanna be” you snapped, whispering so the few people running late to class didn’t hear you.

“You’re not that kind of girl! I know that. Just go out with me again and I’ll show you what you really deserve, I promise.” His eyes were searching yours but you didn’t want to look up, so his hand reached for your chin, “just say you’ll think about it, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll think about it.” You sighed as his thumb brushed your bottom lip. His eyes were full of lust as he looked down at you, holding everything back. “I’ll uh… I’ll meet you after Hellfire. I’m pretty sure Dustin is going to Mike’s after school”

You thought about leaving practice early multiple times, Hellfire usually ended at five and it was already 45 minutes past that when you finished. They wouldn’t even have noticed it, you were barely doing anything.

But you stayed to the end, hoping that Eddie would still be waiting for you. You ran out of the gymnasium, down the corridor, to one of the last rooms, the one with a sign that said ‘Hellfire’.

You peeked through the door and saw him on his throne, writing something down. You couldn’t help but smile at how concentrated he looked.

“Hi” you spoke, voice small and soft, different from how it usually sounds when you get there to drag Dustin out of the session.

“Look who decided to show”. He looked up from the desk, relaxing back on the chair, legs spread and arms on the rests.

“Practice takes longer than playing pretend”

“Wow,” he takes a hand to his chest, “I’m gonna pretend that offended me. For your ego”

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics, making your way to him slowly. You placed yourself between him and the table, pushing back all his notes and the little figurines.

“You told me to meet you here” he said after a beat.

“I did”

“Why?”

There was no point in hiding the truth, “I– I wanted to kiss you again.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, but his brows lifted, teasing you with no words. You kicked his foot in response, but he only smiled and tapped his lap. You couldn’t help but take the seat.

He guided you to straddle him, knees on each side of his thighs, digging into the chair. Then his hand moved up to your face, palm on your jaw, fingers reaching behind your neck to pull you down.

Your lips met in a slow tentative kiss, your hands rested on his chest. You kissed deeper, hungrier, crashing your lips against his, until he pulled away, smiling.

“Really waited all week, huh?” he teased, brushing your bangs off your face.

“You’re ridiculous, Edward.” You slapped a hand on his chest, with barely any force.

He placed his hand over yours, holding it there, “I waited all week, too”

Then his lips were on yours again. His left hand was now on the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly closer. You sighed when his tongue pressed to your lips, making them part and welcome it in.

The hand on his chest moved to your hip, holding it flush to his; you could feel his belt through the thin shorts under your skirt. By the time you were out of breath, his lips moved down your neck, slipping your ponytail to the other side. Your hands moved to his hair, diving into the messy curls as he attacked your neck.

“Eddie,” you called. “Eddie, no marks, please.”

He just grinned at you and took his lips back to yours, the hand in your hips guiding them to grind against his. You gasped into Eddie’s mouth when you felt his cock through the jeans.

“Shit. I’m sorry” he apologized immediately, remembering the last time you were together.

You shook your head. “It’s fine. It feels good, actually, but… we’re at school, I think– I think… maybe we just shouldn’t be doing this here.”

“You’re right,” he sighed, but guided your lips to his again.

You melted into the kiss, letting him take you completely until you heard a noise outside. You both jumped, quickly pulling apart and looking at the door.

“Okay, maybe we should go” he whispered against your lips before you burst into giggles.

You walked to the parking lot together, he waited for you to get into your car, leaned against the door to speak.

“I’ll call, okay? So we can talk about that date”

You nodded, but suddenly decided that your idea was much better than his. “Why don’t you, uh, show up at my house later?”

“Show up? What, like at your door?”

“No, at my window, Eddie. After dinner, maybe nine?” you suggested.

“You’re asking me to climb through your window?” he scoffed.

“You’ve seen me do it, it’s pretty easy. You can come in and, you know… Only if you want, of course.”

His hand reached out for your face guiding it towards him. “I’ll show up to your window, doll, don’t worry.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips, “nine, yeah? Get home safe.”

You just nodded and watched Eddie pull away from your car. You rolled the window back up, turned on the radio and let out a big sigh before driving away.

Your routine was a little more intense than normal that night — you took a long bath, lotioned and powdered your entire body, put on just a bit of lipgloss even after brushing your teeth, but, most importantly, picked out the cutest pajamas you had; nothing sexy, just better than the last ones he saw you in.

Then you sat, and waited.

Time seemed to be dragging itself out, you could swear the clock on your nightstand was broken. 08:21, 08:37, 08:46, 08:55, finally! You waited the last five minutes looking around your room, checking if anything was out of place.

You jumped when he knocked on the window, checking yourself in the mirror one last time. You couldn't help but smile as you opened the curtains and the window for him.

“That’s the first time I’ve seen you be on time for something.”

“Well, I couldn’t keep my princess waiting.” Eddie winked and you pulled away from the window, letting him climb in. He stood up and looked around, drawing in the pink walls and flower patterns. “Jesus, your room is exactly what I thought it would be”

“What is that supposed to mean, Eddie?”

“Oh, it’s cute, don’t get me wrong. I love the totally not creepy and hunted dolls”

You slapped his chest, “don’t say that about my dolls, they’re too pretty to be kept away”

“I can think of something way prettier in this room” he whispered, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer.

You blushed and hid your face in his chest, “that’s ridiculous.”

“I just think you’re the prettiest doll in here” he teased on purpose, wanting to see you even more frustrated.

He grabbed your cheeks with one hand, making you look up at him. His thumb brushed your lips as he pulled you closer, your lips met in a gentle kiss.

Eddie turned, moving backwards to sit on the bed, pulling you down on his lap. You smiled against his lips, pulling away and sitting up on his lap.

“You look silly in my room”

“Silly? Are the chains and the leather clashing with your flowers and teddies?” he teased, grabbing one of your stuffed animals and throwing it far away.

“Eddie! That was Cheer Bear!”

“I don’t think Cheer Bear should see what’s happening here,” he looked at the bed again, spotting two more teddies, “neither should these guys”

This time he carefully put them on the floor, making more space on the bed. His hands creeped up your thighs, going under your short nightgown and pressing you down on his lap. You leaned in, kissing him again, your hands resting on his stomach.

Soon his tongue moved into your mouth, one of his hands moving to hold the back of your neck. You sighed at the feeling of his big hand guiding you around, relaxing further onto his body.

The hand guided your face up, making space for Eddie to move on to your neck. His lips brushed down your jaw, to the side of your neck. He covered your skin in gentle kisses, making you shiver.

“Gonna let me touch you this time, sweetheart?” he whispered against your neck.

You nodded, almost desperately as his hands made their way under your nightgown again. “Please”

His fingers went lower, pressing against your cunt, feeling the wetness through the fabric of your panties. You gasped and Eddie sighed at the feeling.

“Fuck. Were you this wet when we made out earlier? Did you ruin those panties too?”

You felt your face flush at his words and hid in his neck. “You’re gross, Eddie”

“Not gross, doll. Nothing’s gross about this, this is exactly what I want.” He kissed your neck again, slowly, getting you to sit back up. “Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

You nodded. His other hand guided your hips to bring against his fingers, making you squirm on his lap.

Eddie grinned at your reaction to such a simple action. His lips met your neck again as his fingers dipped into your underwear, finally meeting your wet folds. You dropped your head to his shoulder, the scent of old leather and smoke surrounding you.

His fingers danced around your folds, opening you up as your hips involuntarily grinded down. Eddie held you close, keeping you stable as his fingers moved lower, pressing against your hole.

You sighed, trying to relax as his fingers made their way inside you. You could feel the cold chain around his wrist pressing against your lower stomach as his fingers started moving inside you.

They curled and pressed, slowly building up a rhythm that had you shoving your face in his neck to stop any noises. But when his thumb reached out for your clit you couldn’t help but let out a loud gasp.

Eddie grinned and pressed his mouth to your ear, “shhh, sweetheart. You don’t want anyone to hear, do you?”

“Eddie” you whined. You wanted to tell him you had never felt that good before but you didn’t trust your voice anymore.

His fingers kept working you, steadier as he read every single one of your reactions. He felt you tensing on his lap, thighs pressing against his, hands gripping his shoulders tighter.

“Let it go, doll. Don’t hold back, just relax”

You weren’t exactly sure what you had to let go, but you tried your best to follow his instructions and relax. Soon you were feeling pumps of pleasure all over your body, clenching around him as your hands dived into his hair, tugging at the strands.

“Eddie, I…” you swallowed hard, “what?”

He chuckled, kissing your neck as you came down. “You just got there, doll”

You just let out a sigh and chuckled against his shoulder. “Wow” you whispered, in the sweetest voice Eddie had ever heard.

“Yeah,” he smiled, “wow. Nice?”

“Very nice” you told him, unable to wipe the smile from your face.

“Tired?” he whispered and you nodded. He looked around, spotting a glass of water on the nightstand. “Here, drink some water.”

As soon as you sat up to drink you felt the pressure of his cock under you, the move making him let out a low groan.

“Oh!” you gasped, anxiety probably all over your face.

When your friend first introduced you to Oscar you thought it would be a terrible idea to share a place with him, and at first, you were right. You were total opposites — Oscar was messy you were clean; Oscar was quiet, you loved to talk; Oscar was tall and put the dishes in the top shelf, you were short and could never reach them, Oscar liked staying up late, you liked to be up early — there were just so many things you hated about him in that first month.

But despite all those differences, you found something you could bond over — sugar. You had been living together for a couple of weeks and barely spoke to each other when you found out Oscar was just as much of a sweet tooth as you.

“Hey, I made some cookies if you want” you had told him when he walked in, catching you thrown in the couch.

“Is that your dinner? Homemade cookies and beer?”

“I failed a test, think I’m allowed. Wanna join? I don’t mind sharing”

You ended up going through the whole batch that night, and after a beer or two, you both felt confident to talk through your differences. Since then you have basically been best friends.

These days it wasn't unusual for you both to be sitting in the living room together, not really doing anything but acknowledging each other’s presence. Oscar was doing some homework, his laptop on one leg and notebook full of numbers on the other, you were just reading for your next test. In reality you were trying to read it because all you could think of was—

“I think we should have sex” you blurted out, unprompted.

“Good night!” he replied automatically, shutting his laptop and notebook and immediately getting up.

You chuckled, shaking your head as you reached for his wrist, stopping him from leaving. “Oscar!”

“No, you’ve lost your mind completely, you need to go to bed.”

“Oscar!” you chuckled again, “Just listen, yeah?”

He rolled his eyes and set his materials down on the coffee table, turning back to you. “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m just saying, we should get some steam out before the tests, you know?” you suggested, and he still looked at you in disbelief “Look, I’m only saying this because we don’t have time to look for someone to get laid and I literally heard you jerk off the other night.”

“Oh, my god. Good night” he picked his stuff back up and walked away.

You didn’t watch him leave but you did hear him slam this bedroom door.

“Pussy” you mumbled to yourself, shutting your book and going into your room too.

Oscar was absolutely spiraling in his room. What was wrong with you, why would you say that? He was just trying to revise for his test for the thousandth time and now all that he could think was you. Shit. Why would you say that? You are such good friends, and you had never done anything like that — well, except…

Fuck! He let his mind wander back to the night when you drunkly made out against a wall at that fucking party. You had pulled him into that corner, you had kissed him and you had put your hands all over him. Your hands had been perfect that night, fingers dived into his hair, pulled it while your hips pressed together, trying to relieve some of the pressure and… Shit!

Before he could stop himself Oscar was walking towards your room, opening the door without even knocking.

“I think we should have sex” he repeated, standing by your door.

“See my point now?” you grinned, looking up at him from your bed.

“Not really but I gave myself a boner thinking about it, now I need you to fix this”

You bit your cheek, trying to hold back a smile when you let yourself look at the tiny black shorts he always wore at home and notice that they were indeed a little tighter in the front.

“See how you’re stressed? You literally popped a boner in two minutes.” you teased, still sat on the bed.

“I don’t think those are related”

“They are. Remember when I took that Psychology class? Let’s just hope you’re not the type that goes soft when they’re tense” you teased.

“God, I hate you so much.” he threw his head back on the doorframe before looking back at you. “Are you gonna suck me off or not?” You raised your brows at him, surprised by his bluntness. “Sorry”

“Come here, Oscar” you put your book to the side and watched Oscar climb on your bed like he had done multiple times before. You turned to him and took your hand to his face, palm on his chin and letting your thumb graze his pink lips. “Do you actually want me to suck you off?”

He looked up at you, dark brown eyes intense, and nodded. “Yes,” he spoke, softly.

A grin pulled your face again and he kissed your finger. “Just don’t cum yet, wanna ride you”

Oscar sighed, a small “fuck” leaving his lips before he reached for your hair. His hand grabbed the back of your head almost possessively and pulled you into a kiss. Your tongue went past his lips as you moved around on the bed until you were sitting back on your knees, still kissing him. One of your hands rested on his chest while the other moved up his thigh, fingers brushing under his shorts.

You wanted to see him though, so your hands moved under his hoodie, cold fingers brushing his waist and up to his chest just before he pulled away.

“What are you doing?”

“Taking this off” you explained, hands still pulling it up until he held your wrists. “Oh, no, don’t tell me you’re one of those people that has sex with their clothes on” Oscar didn’t say anything but his face reddened “Yeah, no way, not with me. Take this off, let me see your tits”

“My tits?” he chuckled in disbelief.

“Yes, they look so good when you wear those tight shirts, wanna see them.”

“God, you’re fucking ridiculous” he mumbled, sitting up and pulling the hoodie over his head.

You grinned at the sight and he shook his head, that was the first time in all those months that you had seen Oscar shirtless and it did not disappoint. The way his chest narrowed into his waist was hypnotising and the trail of blond hair leading into his shorts made your body heat up in anticipation.

Your hands reached to rest on him, one on his chest the other on his stomach as your body folded over his, your lips meeting again. His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss became desperate – at that point, Oscar was basically thrusting into the air, hoping it would relieve some of the growing pressure in his shorts.

You let your hand move down, just to rest over his cock but he buckled his hips into the warmth, silently begging for more. So you pulled away, pressing soft pecks to his lips before settling back between his legs.

Oscar watched you get on your knees and bend your body down to face his crotch, then his eyes inevitably drifted to your ass, up in the air and barely covered by the sleep shorts you had on. You kissed his stomach, your hands resting on his hips, fingers hooking on the waistband of his shorts.

You pulled them down, Oscar lifted his hips to help and soon you were staring at his gray boxers. You could see the outline of his cock in them and the wetness forming where his tip was poking. Before you could think your tongue was darting out to lick at it, hands already reaching to take off the underwear too.

As soon as you got rid of his boxers you settled between his legs, lying on your stomach, holding yourself up on your elbows. You took him in your hand and he sighed, watching as you guided him to your lips. You looked up at him through your lashes just to catch him biting his lip.

“You can touch me if you want, Oscar.” you whispered to his tip right before licking it and taking it into your mouth.

He threw his head back onto the wall, his hand finding your hair, not to push or pull, just rest there. The warmth of his palm against the back of your head was nice and made you want to take more of him. So you did.

You started sucking down, taking more and more of him until you couldn’t anymore. You hummed around his cock, that made his fingers twitch on the back of your head.

Oscar could barely look down at you without wanting to burst. And when you pulled off to kiss the bottom of his head and lick around his base, his cock brushing the side of your face, he lost it — couldn’t hold back the moan that came from the back of his throat.

You smiled at his reaction and spit down his tip, taking him back into your mouth. Oscar thought it was game over for him when you started going faster, tilting your head so every part of him was snug in your mouth.

“Ah, fuck” he sighed “Fuck, fuck— wait” he sounded desperate as he tugged on your hair, trying to get you to stop.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, looking up at him, knowing that the string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip was driving him crazy.

“Can’t— If you don’t stop I’m coming in your mouth, you said you didn’t want that” he spoke almost shyly, trying to explain himself.

You couldn’t help but smile as you sat back on your knees, your hands rubbing his thighs up and down. “You’re so sweet, Oscar” your hand reached out to bring his face to yours so you could kiss his jaw.

He melted back into the wall. You moved to straddle him, still kissing his face and neck. You took his hands to your hips and let yours dive into the back of his head, fingers tangling into his hair. His palms roamed freely on your ass, desperately grabbing and pulling your loose shorts.

“Want me to take them off?” you teased.

He was quick to answer, hands still clawed on the fabric “Want you to take everything off.”

You chuckled and pulled away, swaying your legs off him to stand right next to the bed. You pulled the shorts down with your underwear, then your top, leaving only the soft bralette you wore under your pajamas. Oscar's eyes never left your body, especially when you turned and bent down to grab a condom from your drawer.

“Stop making that face”

“What face?” he chuckled, lifting his hands and slapping them back on his thighs.

“This dumb one” you said while climbing back on the bed, “have you never seen a woman before?”

“I can’t believe you just called me dumb while you’re naked on top of me” he joked, letting his hands rest on your hips.

“Oh, I promise you’re not dumb, you’re way smarter than me” you mumbled against his neck, your lips brushing against the skin as your hands rested on his chest.

“I doubt that”

His right hand traced up your back, making a stop to unhook your bra before continuing up until his fingers were tangled in your hair and his palm was warm on your neck. He guided your face to his to finally catch your lips again.

Your hips started moving against him as soon as his tongue made it past your lips. Your hands tried to get the condom open while he kissed you intensely, your breaths and groans melting together. You managed to put it on when his lips started working on your shoulders, giving you the space to do so.

“That was impressive, I have to say” he chuckled to your shoulder.

“Talented hands” you joked.

“Oh, I’ve noticed”

His lips attacked yours once again as you knelt up, his hand reaching down to align his cock with your hole. He brushed it between your lips a couple times and finally slipped in. You groaned into each other's mouths when you sank down, taking all of him.

You started moving on him immediately, hands on his shoulders as your hips moved in circles. Oscar took his hands up to finally slip the bralette off your arms. He pulled you closer, arms wrapping tight around your waist until he was facing your chest, his lips brushed the skin and before you knew it he was mouthing at your tit.

Your hands dived into his hair again tugging at it as he sucked your nipple into his mouth. You couldn’t help but let out pretty little sounds — breaths, sighs and whines — and Oscar drowned in them, keeping his mouth working to get more out of you. When his teeth grazed your nipple, your back arched into him, your arms flew back to hold on to his thighs and keep yourself stable.

In the new position you could just hold onto him and glide your hips up and down. Oscar held on to your waist, still mouthing at your chest but starting at the other tit now. You could feel him humming against your skin, suppressed moans that he tried to hold back while your cunt squeezed him.

One of your hands squeezed between your bodies to reach for your clit. Your fingers circled the nub while he thrust his hips up, matching your movements perfectly. His mouth finally popped off your chest just to let out a moan.

“Jesus christ– you’re insane” he mumbled, his chin resting on your sternum.

“Don’t stop, Oscar, please” you moaned, your head falling back.

Oscar didn’t stop, he kept fucking up into you, his arms holding your waist as your back arched unbelievably further. Your fingers moved faster as you felt your orgasm approaching, by that point you could barely move your own hips but he helped.

Ridiculous sounds were leaving your parted lips, sounds you could simply not control anymore as pleasure took over your body. He was absolutely loving them, music to his ears as he felt your cunt clenching around him.

“Oscar, Oscar, Osc–“ you whined his name like a fucking prayer when you came.

Your body contorted in his arms, arched and tensed, shook and relaxed all at once, Oscar swore he had never seen anything so beautiful. He could barely take it anymore by the time you had come down. You were panting, but you held back onto his shoulders and guided him to rest back against the headboard. Your hips started moving again, back and forth, Oscar dropped his head on your chest and you hugged him there.

His hands helped you move to the pace he needed and soon he was moaning onto your chest, letting go as he came. You held him tight through it, still rocking your hips gently until you had both rode out your highs.

You stayed like that for a second before Oscar grabbed your thighs and slid down the bed so he was lying with you on top of him. You groaned when he reached down to pull out, clamping your thighs around his hips.

“No, feels good”

“Well, you don’t want a condom lost inside you, trust me” he argued. But you didn’t move, making him call out your name “I’m serious, if you get pregnant because you got a condom stuck inside, I’m not paying child support”

“Like in Love, Rosie?” you mumbled, smiling against his chest.

“Like in Love, Rosie” he recorded the movie you had made him watch weeks ago. You finally let go of his hips, lifting your own to help him take it off. “So, same time next semester?”

In the heat of the moment, the trip to his room seems long, too long. And made even longer every time he stops to press you against the nearest surface he can find. 

The closed elevator doors. 

The wall. 

Other guest doors. 

And each time you stop, your lips seek out his, to taste him again, and again, and again. To feel his large hands on you and his hips grinding into yours. Your skirt rides high on your thigh when your leg wraps around his hip. He’s hot and hard against your already damp core making you moan. 

“We- we need-” your words are lost to a gasp when his mouth trails up your neck in hot, wet, open mouthed kisses. His hands are under your shirt and around your back before you can take another breath, unclasping your bra “if you take my bra off in the hall, you’ll get us kicked out.” 

His hands slide back down your back to land on your waist. He mumbles his next words against the side of your neck, “My room is just down the hall.” 

You laugh, the sound light and breathless, “You keep saying that.” 

“Sorry,” He says with a grin, not looking sorry at all, “I just can’t wait to have you under me.” 

A scandalized gasp echoes through the deserted hall and you tear your gaze away from him to see a lady across the hall, hand on her chest, staring at the two of you. 

“Sorry,” He mumbles against your neck, then turns and flashes her a grin that’s not sorry at all, “honeymoon.” 

She still looks horrified when he lets you slide down his body, shirt catching on his hands and skirt riding high on his thigh. You giggle, too tipsy to care what the old biddy thinks, and take his hand as the two of you practically run down the hall. 

“This one.” He stops suddenly, using the momentum to swing you around until your back hits the door. His large hand cradles your head so it doesn’t hit, “This is my room.” 

He’s panting softly, looking between your eyes and lips. He hesitates for less than a blink before leaning down, his lips brushing against yours, “Last chance to back out.” 

He looks into your eyes again and you use his shirt to pull his lips against yours, tongue sliding into his slightly open mouth. You kiss him just long enough for his hand to slide down from the back of your head to cradle you. You pull away just enough to speak, your chest still brushing his with each breath, “Open the door.” 

No sooner are the words out than the door falls away from your back, startling you. But Yoongi is there, holding you against him as he walks you both fully into his dark room. The only light comes from the open curtain. 

His lips are on yours again, but softer, slower this time. As if now that you are in his space, he can take his time with you. 

As if he thinks you won’t leave. 

The backs of your knees hit the bed and you fall backward, holding his shirt to bring him with you. Your shirt is around your neck before you can think about how this is really happening. You raise your arms, his large hands rubbing up your sides, sliding your bra and top off. 

“Beautiful, Sunshine,” He breathes, just loud enough for you to hear in the quiet room, "Absolutely beautiful.” 

You smile softly, just drunk enough to brave the compliment without blushing, “You’re one to talk,” you move to sit up, fully planning on removing his shirt yourself. 

“Wait,” He puts a hand on your shoulder, gently laying you back down, legs dangling off the edge of the bed, “There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since I laid eyes on you.” 

You prop yourself up on your elbows as he kneels in front of you. He wraps one warm hand around your calf, squeezing lightly as he kisses your knee, before using the other hand to slip your sandal off. He repeats the process on the other side, then pulls your legs over his shoulders. 

“You shouldn’t-”

He stops you with a hot, wet, kiss to your thigh as he pushes your skirt around your waist. It bunches under your ass, but at the moment, you can’t find it in you to care. Not when he's tracing his name on the inside of your thigh with his tongue. 

“Do I look like I care?” He asks, raising one eyebrow as he moves closer, his shoulders pushing your legs further apart. “I’ve been wanting to taste this pretty pussy you’ve been hiding under this ridiculous skirt all night.” He traces your pussy lips one with one finger, the touch so light, but so scandalous, you can’t help but shiver. “Besides, you can’t tell me you didn’t want this too, you’re not even wearing panties. I can see you dripping for me already.” 

This time you blush. You can’t lie to yourself, or him, at this moment. You had gone to the beach party fully hoping to hook up. You just thought it would be something quick in the changing tent. Not…whatever this was about to be. You were sure it would be life changing though. 

“Well then, put your money where your mo-” 

He doesn’t let you finish your sentence before his mouth is hot against your pussy. His nose bumping against your clit with his tongue already inside you. 

You gasp and grab his hair without a thought. His onslaught so sudden it steals your breath. “Yoo-Yoongi!” 

His lips wrap around your clit and he hums lightly, hands kneading your thighs as you try and squeeze his head between them, “Don’t close your legs, Sunshine, let me see this pretty pussy.” 

You let go of his hair with one hand and throw the other over your eyes while you use what little control you have to ride his tongue and fingers. He plays you expertly, like the piano he’s so fond of. Still, you can’t quite let yourself go. 

“Give it to me baby girl,” He kisses right above your clit, a hot open mouth kiss that feels like it should be illegal, “I want you to come in my mouth baby. Let me drink you.” 

His words spoken against your skin followed by his tongue send you over the edge. You come so hard you see stars. He licks your slit over and over and over until you come down. 

“I, I have never-” you're panting harder now, wondering if that’s how good he is with his mouth, how will you survive the night? “You are entirely too dressed,” you finally get out. 

He stands slowly, and without breaking eye contact, begins removing his clothes. His shirt hits the floor, quickly followed by his shoes and pants. When his hands find his boxers, you hold out a hand to stop him. 

“Wait, let me.” You can’t stop staring at him, “You are the most gorgeous person I have ever seen.” you say with awe, reaching for his boxers. 

You meet his eyes again, having looked away to admire the rather large bulge in his boxers, and slowly push them down his legs. His cock springs free, so close to your mouth, you can’t help but lick the pre-come from the tip. 

“Looks like I’m not the only one dripping” You tease, and lick his tip again as he groans. 

He puts his hands in your hair and pulls your head back, “As much as I want you to look up at me with your mouth full of my cock,” he smirks, “I need you to lay back on that bed so I can fuck you properly.” 

You bite your lip and smile, kissing the head of his cock one more time, before going to remove your skirt, “Leave it.” He growls out and climbs on top of you, putting one knee to your hot core and pressing just right to make you squirm. 

He grabs his cock as you spread your legs, more than ready for him. 

“Condom?” He asks, already rubbing the head of his cock against your dripping pussy. 

“Dont need one. I’m on the pill” 

His eyes meet yours, you can see he’s surprised and pleased, right before his eyes darken. Hungry. He thrusts into you. Moving you back with the force of it.

“Fuck,” he grinds out, trembling above you as he tries to hold still, “you are so fucking tight. Ungh,” you move your hips, encouraging to move silently, “Don’t do that.” he pleads, eyes closed, “Fuck baby girl, I don’t know how I’m going to last.” 

You raise your hips again, “Then don’t,” you moan, more than ready for him to move, “we have all night.” 

His eyes meet yours at that and he finally, finally, moves. “I’m. going. to. fill. you. so. full. of. me,” he punctuates each word with a thrust. You put your hand above your head to steady yourself against the headboard and wrap your legs around his waist, meeting each of his trusts with your hips,  “Then I’m going to eat it out of you and do it again.” 

You were already close to another orgasm, still sensitive from the one he wretched from you earlier, but his words throw you over the edge. You cry out and tighten around him. 

“You like that, Sunshine?” He asks his thrusts less rhythmic now, chasing your orgasm, “You like the idea of being so full of my come it’ll be dripping out of you for days.” he stills, filling you with his hot, hot, hot come. You can feel his legs shake as he empties inside of you. 

He collapses against you, his cock barely softening inside of you. You run a hand through his hair and down his back, using your nails to lightly scratch him. The silence stretches as you both just breathe, enjoying the closeness. 

You can feel his come starting to spill out of you and go to pull away, but he wraps his arms around you, stopping you from moving. 

“Stay.” He says, moving just enough for you to realize he’e getting hard again. 

“Oh” 

“Did you think I was joking?” He laughs lightly and uses the skirt around your waist to pillow your hips, raising them just slightly. He nips at your neck, hard enough to sting, but licks at it to ease the slight pain. “I’m going to fill you again,” thrust, “and again,” thrust, “and again, until you can’t walk without feeling me.” 

You smile, looking up at the fan on the ceiling as his hot, hot, hot, mouth finds your nipple with his teeth, “In that case, don’t let me stop you.” 

-0-0-0-

You look out the window, the ocean waves gently lap at the shore as the sun is cresting the horizon. Yoongi has only been asleep for an hour, maybe less, but you couldn’t sleep. Not knowing what you’d have to do. 

Leave. 

His arm tightens around your waist and you sigh. His nose nuzzles into your hair and you find your resolve to leave slipping… but you know that this can’t be. He’s an international idol. And you… you’re just a one night stand. 

You didn’t even give him your real name, telling him it was Sunshine just to keep things from getting out of control. But here you were, spiraling. 

Sighing again, you shift slowly out of his grip, pillow handy to put in your place. 

He shifts slightly, and you freeze thinking he woke up, but he just grips the pillow tighter. 

You breathe out in relief, then wince as you take a step away from his bed. He hadn’t been kidding when he said you’d be dripping for days. Even after eating multiple loads out of you, his warm come still slipped out of you, coating your thighs until each step was slightly sticky. You didn’t have time to clean up as you quickly gathered your clothes. Your plane left in three hours and you still needed to pack the last of your things. 

You grimace thinking about sitting on a plane for hours, still full of him. It was hot last night, but without him beside you on the plane, you knew you were in for an uncomfortable ride. 

You take one last look around the room before making a split second decision. You grab your lip gloss from the inside pocket of your skirt, and write on the mirror. It doesn’t have a lot of tint, but the message is clear:

“Thank you for the best night of my life. 

I’ll never forget you. 

Your Sunshine.” 

You spare one last look at the man who ruined you for all other men, and slip out of his room and out of his life…

-0-0-0-

“Uhhhh Y/N?” 

You hear your roommate call you from the other room. You put your armful of laundry on your bed, catching sight of the skirt you wore your last day at the resort and smiling. 

“Y/N, I think you need to see this!” Her voice rises in excitement and you can’t help but wonder what’s got her worked up. 

“What is it?” you ask, making your way to the living room. 

“...Sunshine, if you recognize her, please contact this number.” 

Your roommate turns to you with big eyes, “Y/N?” 

But your eyes are locked on the TV screen.

There, in full color, you are in the resort hallway, being pulled by Yoongi. 

They split the screen, half of it has a close up of you, your face flushed and lips kiss swollen. The other half with the contact number hovering above Yoongi. 

You know your mouth is open, but you can’t close it. He’s looking for you. It was the last thing you expected. 

“Please, Sunshine, come back to me.” 

His voice breaks through your shock.

“Y/N.. what did you do?” your roommate asks, voice higher with glee. 

“I… I think I need to call him.” 

You turn to leave, his message pleading with you to come back playing over and over on the screen. 

“Go get your man, girl!”

“Three,” Barty begins to countdown. 

Looking out the corner of his eye, Evan can see Barty’s tongue poke out and his eyes steel in concentration. But, on “two”, a quick sting blooms on Evan’s ear, followed by a light pop as the needle exits his lobe. His fingers work nimbly, nearly on auto-pilot, sliding the simple stud into the hollow needle.

With the needle removed and the backing secured, Barty leans back, admiring his handiwork. ”Aw, you look great Ev,”  He leans in with a teasing smile, “The girls’ll be all over you now.”

“Shut up,” Evan rolls his eyes and attempts to step back, suddenly more aware of their proximity.

But Barty only clamps his legs tighter and presses on, “What, it’s been awfully quiet around this apartment lately—maybe this’ll help,” He suggests with a waggle of his brows.

Evan throws a jab to the boy across from him, “Like you’re one to talk.” 

Barty catches his wrist. The warm heat of his skin contrasts with the cool metal of his rings and sends goosebumps up Evan’s arm. “Oh, but I wouldn’t dare miss our movie nights,” Barty insists.

“Good,” Evan manages after a beat, pulling back in an effort to free his arm.

Barty just tightens his grip and tugs him back in, “I’ve still got one more.”

Giving in with a huff, Evan turns his head, presenting his other ear. 

The second goes just as smoothly as the first, and Barty leans to the side to allow Evan access to the mirror behind him.

“What do you think?” He asks.

“Perfect.” Evan decides as he studies his reflection.

“Perfect.” Barty echos, his eyes fixed on Evan’s.

bonus: (later that night)

Barty returns from the kitchen with two beers in hand. He tosses one to Evan before sinking into the couch and kicking his feet into Evan’s lap. 

The can gives a hiss as Evan cracks it open. He takes a sip before resting it on the table and exchanging it for the TV remote.

Barty speaks up, “So, I reckon we can do your nipples next weekend,” Attempting to hide a wicked smirk—something he is never very good at.

He scoffs and chucks a pillow in Barty’s direction, “In your dreams, B.”

Barty yelps as it jostles his arm, and he ends up with beer down the front of his shirt. “Oh fuck you, and give me that; you know it’s mine turn to pick the movie.”

Evan relinquishes the remote without protest, but his eyes linger as Barty’s tongue darts out. He watches him lick a stripe down his beer to clean up the spilled drops clinging to the can. A small clink sounds as his piercing connects with the aluminum. He forces his gaze away, and his mind returns to Barty’s original comment.

“How about my eyebrow,” Evan offers.

“Are you serious,” His head snaps to the side, “You’d let me?”

“Of course,” Evan answers, grinning as he watches a smile take over Barty’s face.