#battywritez

You sat cross legged on the hotel bed in nothing but your panties, humming as you ate the chocolate covered cherries Frank had gotten you just hours ago, "something sweet, because you deserve it" he said when gifting it to you.

Frank was on his knees in front of you, dark tie loose on his neck, black button up hanging on by only a few buttons. He was bare from the waist down, the belt that once held his jeans up was now wrapped around his wrists, trapping his hands behind his back as he watched you, waiting.

It was clear from his heavy breathing and dripping cock that he was getting impatient. Yet you sat there, unbothered, eyes meeting his as you wrapped your lips around another cherry, moaning at the taste. It was a clear mockery at how he wanted your lips around him, how he'd do anything to plunge his dick down your throat. He cursed under his breath, cock twitching at the sound of your mockery of a moan. His head fell forward, eyes clamped shut, as if he could get off to the sound alone.

You raised a brow, smirking down at him as you held the now cherryless stem, spitting the pit out in his general direction (bouncing off his shoulder and landing onto the floor). "Something wrong, Frankie?" you coo, clearly patronizing, your foot moving to nudge his knee.

He swallows hard, shaking his head quickly before looking back up at you. His eyes were half lidded and dazed with need, brows furrowed the same way he always does right before he starts begging.

Before he can even muster up the courage to start whining, you lean down, using two fingers to make sure he stays focused on you. "I asked a question, honey. I expect an answer with words." you warn against his lips, getting close enough that he tries to chase your lips when you sit back up.

"Nothin's wrong." his voice cracking slightly, throat dry from his heavy breathing. He shifted forward, trying to get even closer. "Just- need more, baby. Please. Been real good. Been waiting so long-" his cheek now pressed against your knee, body burning at the innocent contact, looking up at you with pleading eyes.

You let out a little scoff, almost instinctively denying him, but he had had a stressful day (performing under the blistering summer sun at some festival) and it felt cruel to completely deny him. So instead, you settle with making him do a little party trick in order to get more action.

Smirking, you bring the stem of the already eaten cherry to his lips. "tie it in a knot, baby. Then maybe, maybe, I'll let you watch me jerk off." you tease, knowing it wasn't enough to really satisfy him, but anything was better than nothing right now.

With the promise of something more (kind of), he wastes no time, taking the stem into his mouth with a determination that was almost laughable. It doesn't take long for his tongue to dart out, tied cherry stem resting atop it.

You give an approving hum at the sight, patting his cheek with a "Good job, sweetie. You always listen so well." leaving your lips. You grab the stem and throw it to the side, before your fingers return to his mouth, resting on his tongue. "Now suck." you order, eyes meeting his, as if daring him to hesitate.

He, of course, doesn't hesitate in the slightest. Eyes fluttering shut as he groaned, lips closing around your two fingers, head bobbing slightly, sucking. Your thighs instinctively press together at the sight, biting your bottom lip with a soft moan. "There you go, baby." you whisper before pushing your fingers deeper down his mouth, feeling his throat clamp up at the sudden intrusion, gagging around them. Your fingers continue to fuck into his throat, your breathing getting heavy at the sight and sounds coming from him. Frank notices, one teary eye opening to meet your dark and hungry gaze. Sparks shoot down his spine with excitement, praying that you'll give him more for being so good.

You suddenly remove your fingers from his mouth, making him whine at the loss. His pouting was cut short as you stand up and kick off your panties, making him swallow hard. Being so close and level with his face, he could practically smell the need coming off of you. He could see your already glistening arousal just below your maintained curls, trying his hardest not to drool like a starving man.

You lay on the bed, back against the mattress, forearms keeping you just high enough to look at Frank through your spread legs, giving him a perfect view of everything he couldn't touch. He struggles against the belt keeping his hands restrained, feeling it loosen up just a fraction, before you catch his full attention again.

fingers lubed up with his spit trailing down your body, wasting no time to find your clit, making slow circles. He cant help but whimper at the sight. Your head falling back, sighing in relief from the pleasure. Relief he has yet to have experience tonight, evident from his still achingly hard cock, pulsing and twitching with each sound coming from you.

You lift your head back up to watch his face, his eyes transfixed on how your fingers moved against your pretty clit, like he was studying it for the next time he got to touch you. The next time he got to please you.

You start to speak with a lazy smirk, "See something you like, Frankie?" to which you get an automatic and strong nod. But just as quickly as he nodded, he remembered your earlier warning, causing him to speak up fast "Yes- yes, god- You're fuckin gorgeous, baby. So fuckin pretty for me." He swallows hard, still trying not to drool like an idiot "Please- lemme have a taste. Lemme help. I'll make you feel good, sweetheart."

Completely ignoring him, your head falls back again with a moan, fingers moving faster, working yourself just right. Being too lost in your own pleasure, you don't hear Frank continuously struggle against the belt. His breathing is only getting heavier, his eyes still locked on how you please yourself, cursing at himself for finding how you ignore him so hot.

His breath hitches when one of his hands slip free from the belt behind his back, eyes going wide, darting to your face to see if you've noticed. When you don't immediately start berating him for not listening and slipping free, he can't help but lunge forward, throwing your hand to the side and replacing it with his mouth.

Your eyes shoot open, a sharp gasp leaving your mouth as you lift your head to look down at him, "Fuck- Frankie!" You curse out quickly, the next words dying in your throat at the sight of him going down on you, his eyes shut, brows furrowed in a blissful haze, groaning against your core.

You're quick to notice only one hand keeping you legs spread. His left hand is gripping the underside of your left thigh, elbow pressed against your right thigh, forming an upside down triangle from where you lay, keeping those pretty thighs the perfect distance for him to work.

His other hand, his right hand, is making quick work on his dick, working it at an almost furious speed that matches his tongue against you. He cant help but moan into your heat with each pump of his hand, praying to any gods above that you'll be easy on him for letting his pure desperation to taste you take over.

"You- mngh- Asshole- not fucking listening." You're mumbling out curses, yet your hand still finds itself in his hair, tugging at the roots, hips rolling against his mouth. "So much for being good, hm? cant fucking keep your hands to yourself? ha- Fucking pathetic, Frankie." You hiss out, pushing his head deeper. He cant help the growl leaving his throat, his hand working faster at your disapproving words.

He's working you just right, the perfect combination of his tongue curling and sucking at your clit. "tastes so fuckin good, sweetheart. Fuckin amazing." he praises between gasps.

It doesn't take long for you to start approaching your peak, hand gripping his hair tighter, high pitched moans slipping from your lips.

Right as you were about to warn him that you were close, Franks own words, desperate and out of breath, breaks the pattern of moans. "Gonna cum- fuck. fuckfuckfuck-" He pants against your cunt, biting his bottom lip, eyes clamped shut. You don't even have time to whine about your high being taken away before he comes undone, groaning as thick white ropes shoot against the side of the bed.

After a few long moments of his heavy breathing, body going slightly limp. He looks up at you with a lazy smile, his waves of pleasure finally simmering down.

He didn't get much time to process the scowl on your face before you tug him up by the tie still hanging off his neck, throwing him onto the bed. He fell face first with a soft "oof," hands catching himself before looking back at you with a smirk. He loved when you got mad, it meant you'd go harder than usual.

"wipe that fucking smirk off your face, Frank." You hissed, getting back on the bed, pulling at his hair so that his face met yours, lips a breath away. "You think you're funny, hm? not letting me cum first? not even asking if you could cum?" He let out a soft sound, biting his bottom lip, his eyes darting down to your lips before you threw his head towards the bed again.

"sit up so I can fuck myself with that useless dick of yours." you ordered, scoffing at how fast he moved, obviously eager for you to ride him, already half hard again.

He wasn't gonna be let completely off the hook tonight, that much is certain, but you would at least allow him to cum one more time. After all, he did get you those sweet chocolate cherries.

A/N: Thank you for reading my first ever fic! :] IDK when/if I'll post another fic - only time will tell!

Today was supposed to be one of the happiest days of your life.

keywords: supposed to.

That was, of course, until you found your soon-to-be partner in life, Jordan, going down on their best friend. Great! Now two important people in your life are dead to you. Two birds with one stone!

Once the scene finally registered, your body made a sharp 180, vision already blurred with tears.

"W-wait!" Jordan was quick to their feet, wiping the evidence from their mouth with the back of a hand. Firmly grabbing your wrist, they were pulling you back, your body spinning to face the room again, "Baby- sweetheart, It's not what it looks like-fuck-I swear on my life."

Their eyes were blown out and panicked, breathing turned ragged and desperate. The buzzing in your ears was much too loud to even register the words leaving their lips. Your mind still stuttering with the new crushing reality of what the scene meant. They could see the way your breathing was becoming frantic, how the emotions were suddenly catching up now that you were forced to be still.

"Please- It was a mistake, baby. A stupid fucking mistake. You have to understand-" Jordan stumbles over the words, taking a deep breath to try and sound more put together, "I didn't know what I was doing."

All you can do is shake your head, choking out tears as you reject every plea and excuse they send towards you. With the last of whatever preservation you had left, you shove Jordan off, desperate to get away from them and this suddenly suffocating room.

You can barely hear the pleas for you to come back, to let them explain, as you rush down the hallway, tears now falling without remorse.

The first person who witnesses your hysterical crying is Gerard, your best friend. The man who has held you through way too many heartbreaks to count. The man who was more than enthusiastic and supportive when you showed him the ring. The man who was happy to see his best friend finally start her happily ever after.

You stumble into him when rushing down the never-ending dramatic staircase of the old castle-like venue. His phone fumbled out of his hands, clattering to the floor of the landing.

He had been taking photos of the architecture, having wanted to make a collage for you. Something artsy but meaningful that could be hung on the wall of your forever home.

But the phone was immediately forgotten the second he saw your tears, hands shooting up to stabilize you. "Whoa- hey-" He's quick to brush the loose strands of hair out of your eyes, hands cupping your face as he inspects you, as if there is some physical sign or explanation for your crying. "What the hell happened?"

You're quick to mutter out a half-choked explanation through tears. "Slow down, please, take a deep breath. I can't understand a thing you're saying." his hands are gentle when brushing away tears.

Desperately, you try to take a breath, to no avail. The second you try to inhale, another wave of tears comes crashing down. "C-cheated- they- I saw-" was all you could squeeze out.

Gerard didn't need much more to understand.

Without another word, Gerard is guiding you to the exit with a hand on your back. You don't ask where he's leading you; at this point, you don't care.

It's not until you hear the sound of calm water that you realize where he had taken you. The lake you both had gone to as sad and brooding teenagers. The light breeze hits your tear-streaked face as you pry your eyes open. Your breathing finally stabilizes when the view focuses.

A part of you wants to be upset that he'd taken you to such a sentimental place after such a devastating event, having now slightly tainted the waters with the heartbreak, but you can't help but immediately ease at the familiarity.

In the midst of you processing your surroundings, Gerard tugs off his suit jacket to place it on the floor, giving you a place to sit without completely ruining the dress you'd spent so much on.

Once both settled in, Gerard filled the silence as you both looked out into the familiar water, reminiscing on all the stupid shit they did when they were younger.

"Yknow that piece of graffiti we always made fun of when walking here from school?" He asks softly, head turning to look at you as your gaze stays on the water.

(Imagine something like this but in a badly done "I'm 15 and this is my first time doing graffiti" form)

You can only give a small smile, nodding with a short sniffle.

He lets out a quiet laugh before confessing, "I made it."

That squeezes a weak laugh out of you, shaking your head, disbelieving, "No, the hell you didn't."

Gerard puts his hands up defensively, "I did! I did!" His voice had that teasing lilt, the one he always used when joking around.

"I noticed the wall was empty and thought, y'know, maybe I could fill it with something cool for our walk here." He shrugged, sighing, "But of course, it turned out looking like well- that."

A strained laugh left his lips as he continued, "I wanted to impress you, I guess…"

The mumbled confession made you turn, blinking at him, "You're actually serious?" You whisper over the soft sounds surrounding both of you.

Gerard gives a single nod.

"Oh gods- Gee, if I had known-" but he was quick to cut you off with a laugh "Nonono- It deserved the criticism. I was trying way too hard." He doesn't give you time to continue pitying his sad attempt at graffiti.

"I will say that it was fucking terrifying to come out here in the middle of the night, doing shit I knew I shouldn't be doing." He lets out a sigh before remembering more, "I even dragged Mikey with me, Gods- the amount of times he threatened to tell you I made it when I stole his shit." He hums at the memory, silently making a note to ask Mikey about it later.

"But hey! It kind of worked, right? We got closer because of it." He smiles, eyes locked with yours.

You open your mouth to speak, only to close it again before laughing, genuinely laughing. The sound only makes his smile brighter. "You're so stupid, Gee." huffing as you rest your head on his shoulder, just like you did all those years ago.

A comfortable silence falls over you again; this time, you're the one to break it.

"Does that mean baby Gee had a little crush on me?" You can't help but tease, head lifting just enough to meet his eyes again.

The question made him tense, hissing like he'd been caught. "I mean, I thought it was pretty obvious." He mumbled, looking away, pretending to be interested in some bird passing by.

A loud laugh escapes you, your head winding back to look at him better, "Are you kidding me? I thought you hated me at first!" confession slipping out with a smile, "If I had known, I would have been way more forward with my crush on you." Nudging him with a smirk, like he was in on the feelings you had all those years ago.

Gerard's head snaps back towards you, eyes wide. "You liked me?" He looks stunned, confused, and oddly hopeful.

"Duh," you shrug like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "You were cool, a little nerdy, and super sweet. I'm surprised more girls didn't like you."

That gets you a mischievous smirk from him. Oh, here he goes- "I'll have you know, I had ladies all over me!"

Letting out a loud groan, you roll your eyes. "Plushies from your grandmother don't count, Gerard."

Your earlier nudge is returned with a scoff, "You're just jealous you didn't have ladies all over you too." He teased, happy to have gotten your mind off your shitty ex-fiancé, even if only for the moment.

Gerard can't help but want to push it. He wants to ask more about your past feelings, heart begging to know if any of it remains. Still, he knows better, knows you're in a weak position, that he shouldn't take advantage of it. But gods, the confession, even if for the past, reignited those feelings he'd been trying so hard to press down.

The hours pass, the sun now only barely visible over the trees across the lake. The two of you continue your nostalgic banter as Gerard, ever the magician, brings out some much-needed drinks stashed in a secret cooler he kept at the lake.

You were quick to question why he did such a thing and why you didn't know about it sooner, but he brushed it off as a recent addition. making sure to leave out the part where he had prepared to come here after the wedding to get black out drunk and cry over you.

It didn't take long before both of you had succumbed to the alcohol, now drunk, giggly, and way too touchy to be considered friendly.

Your head was still leaning on Gerard's shoulder, now tilted just right for your every breath to be felt on his neck, shivers shooting down his spine with each giggle.

One of his hands was clenched at your hip, breathing just slightly labored, desperate to keep the mask of "perfect best friend" up through his drunken state, trying not to make a fool of himself after such a heartfelt night.

You could feel how tense he was, smirking against him, "Gee, loosen up. Have some fun." You're met with a strained laugh, "I'm trying, but it's kind of hard when you're-" His words are swallowed by a gasp as you leave a single kiss at the base of his neck.

The sound, soft and needy, motivates you to mark a trail of kisses up his neck. He crumbles, sweet sounds leaving his lips with each press of yours, body buckling back when you push against him just slightly.

Now lying half on top of him, your hands wander from his neck to the belt of his pants, chuckling when his hips buck up in response.

"Someone's excited," the soft mocking words leave your lips as your hand brushes against the very obvious tent. "Fuck. are we- are we really doing this? Right here? We shouldn't- we really fucking shouldn't," his voice rough, cracking slightly when he tries to be reasonable.

His body promptly betrays his rationale when his head rolls back with a moan, hand finding your lower back to keep you close as his hips chase the friction.

"I'll stop if you really want me to, Gee," you whisper, getting a hasty shake of his head in reply before he's ducking to catch your lips. "No- no, god- please keep going." He pleads between hungry kisses. Your hands jump to cup his face as you return the kisses with equal fervor, giggling as he fumbles to flip you both over.

"How far do you want this to go, baby?" he's panting against your lips, hips hovering as his hands travel under the dress, kneading at your thighs. You can't help but shiver at the pet name, biting your bottom lip just long enough to keep him guessing. "All the way, if you'll let me."

Not having to be told twice, you're being hauled over his shoulder as he marches to the parked car used to bring you here. You're all but thrown into the back seat, Gerard slotting between your legs the second the door is shut behind him.

His lips find yours in another desperate kiss, hands slightly trembling as they try to undo the godforsaken white dress. He swears he's used his next seven years of luck when the dress quickly loosens around your torso, allowing him to tug it down your legs, throwing it to the floor of the car.

His lungs practically cave in when he scans down your now barely covered form. The delicate white lingerie clinging to your curves is enough to send him to the afterlife.

Teasing, you whisper a quick "Take a picture, it'll last longer." before pulling him down into a kiss as your hands tug at the buttons of his remaining clothes, smirking as you hear him groan from the frantic and heated touches.

His hands were moving before he could even fully process what their intentions were, pushing your panties aside and dragging up the soaked heat with a single finger before landing on your clit, making tight circles in a frenzied need to please you. It wasn't until your sharp moan echoed in his ears that he realized he was already close to exploding.

Once he has a good view of your thrown-back head, his fingers are quick to dip lower, teasing at your core with a smirk, laughing at your whine. "C'mon, use your words, sweet thing," he croons.

"F-fuck- Gerard. Please, I'll do anything. J-just- need your fingers, baby." You pant out, brows furrowed with an embarrassing amount of need. "Anything?" He repeats with a raised brow, getting a quick nod from you in response.

He leans in, lips ghosting yours, "Fine. You're gonna cum on my fingers n then I'ma fuck you until I'm pleased. I don't care how many times you have to cum on this dick, we're not stopping till I'm satisfied. Got it?"

You swear you get lightheaded from the words alone, cunt already clenching around nothing as you give a desperate nod. "Yes- yes. understood." Your eagerness to comply rewards you with a deep thrust of his fingers, already curling in search of your sweet spot.

A sharp “Oh fuck!” leaves you in a gasp, nails digging into the pleather of the seats before one hand shoots up to grip his hair, tugging at the roots to make sure he's close enough to taste your moans. “Yeah? You like it, baby? already falling apart for me?” nipping at your bottom lip, his thumb now pressing against your clit.

giving an eager nod as helpless whines roll out of you with each circle of his thumb. Your body jolts when his fingers finally curl just right, whines suddenly devoured by desperate moans. You're greedy when gasping "Right there- Gerard- baby. there!" hands finding his shoulders as your hips jerk up to meet his.

He's quick to press your hips down with a free hand, fingers picking up its pace now that he's found the spot. Your eyes snap to the back of your head, jaw hanging open as your moans catch in your throat.

“Close? You fucking close? damn- cum on my fingers, baby. go on,” he growls against your lips, the rhythm of his fingers relentless. Your pleasure finally crests, thighs convulsing around his wrist before completely tensing with a guttural moan.

The pace of his hand slows, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure as your body loosens back up. Despite your soft protest, his fingers eventually slip out, unapologetic when he cleans them with his tongue, growling at the taste.

Once clean, his lips dart down to meet yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue while he tugs at his belt. There's no hiding his sigh of relief when his dick springs free from the restraints of denim and cotton, giving it a few quick pumps as you process the size and shape.

You're nearly starting to drool at the sight. Sure, the length and curve were sculpted perfectly, but god, the thickness. It's enough to make you dizzy just imagining the stretch.

His soft “Can you take more?” kicks you out of your daze, voice quiet despite the clear, desperate hunger in his eyes. "Yes," you give a hasty nod, "please," earning you a ravenous smirk and a rewarding press of the tip against your already-clenching core.

A sharp hiss escapes him when the head catches, forcing him to sink in slowly, already struggling to keep from embarrassing himself. The slow sting causes the air to lock in your lungs, only to escape in a harsh gasp when he's halfway in.

Gerard lets out a piercing curse against your neck once his hips are flush against yours. You're barely given any time to take in the full feeling before his hips twitch, voice needy against your lips, “so- fucking tight-shit-can I move? Please, sweetheart- I need to move.”

Unable to trust your voice, you give a quick nod. He wants to make you use your words, but his body is coiled so tight that he can't seem to find it in him to push.

He gives a few testing thrusts, eyes locked onto your face to study how each one undoes you before committing to a good pace. The car squeaked, being jostled from side to side with the force of each snap. Beside your hips, his hands are clutching at the seat, your shared moans intertwining between kisses and nips.

Gerard is quick to get annoyed at how your legs have no place to settle, grasping onto your ankles and pushing them up towards each side of your head, forcing you into a clamshell position. You let out a shrill-like moan at the burn of your muscles in the unfamiliar position, but the new angle is too good to protest.

He can tell from the way your legs shake that the position is a struggle, loosening his grip just a bit to keep you from pulling something before praising, "Look so fucking pretty like this, baby-fuck-look at you. Taking it so fucking well."

You can't muster up a reply, head rolled back, drunk in more ways than one. Forehead covered in sweat, he purrs a soft "Look at me." His gaze is firm as he drinks in your expression, wanting to clock the second you crash over, which won't be long considering how he's plowing into you in a way you've never been taken.

Your breath caught, sobbing out, "G-Gerard- close- I'm gonna- fuck!" He makes sure to keep the exact pace, hitting the same spot that makes you dizzy just enough to push you over. "Fuckfuckfuck-! Yes- come on my fucking cock-" Letting out a cry, your nails dig into anything they can reach as you come undone for the second time that night.

The fluttering walls, desperate to milk him, drag him down with you. Body half collapsing as his hips press flush against yours, spilling inside, grunting with each twitch.

Tiny kisses trail down your neck as you both catch your breath, your legs now loose from his grasp, hips still pressed into you. He leaves a tiny nip at your shoulder before looking up to meet your tired gaze with a smirk. "You're not done, right, sugar?"

You give a tiny grunt, "Gee, there is no way you're already ready for another round-" He cuts you off with a greedy laugh, "Oh, you'd be surprised." nipping at your bottom lip before pulling back to see how the thin coat of sweat covering you catches in the night light

"Been waiting so long. Could go all night." He confesses with a smile before forcing you to all fours, hand already in your hair to tug at the roots to whisper in your ear, "Don't pass out on me, sweet thing."

A/N:

I'm trying to start fewer paragraphs/sentences with "You" and "He" and oh my goddd it's difficult.

I hope the smut isn't too bad :3 got kinda lazy tbh

You were trying to stay on your best behavior for this road trip, really, you were. But it felt impossible when your boyfriend looked so attractive after what felt like 12 hours of nonstop driving, looking like he was ready to kneel over and die.

It was painfully obvious the man needed a break, and for some godforsaken reason, he didn't want to admit it. You had offered to take over a few hours ago, but he furiously denied the help, insisting he was fine and that all you needed to do was sit there and be pretty.

And what's a prettier view than your partner's lips wrapped around you, sucking you off like it's their life's mission? ... What? It's keeping him awake, right?

"Shit- baby… mmn- what's gotten into you?" question going unanswered as one of Frank's hands tangled in your hair, forcing your head down when traffic allowed, and pulling you up before he started swerving.

He was trying to keep his sounds to a minimum, lip caught between his teeth, as if it would keep him focused on the road. His eyes were darting down, groaning at the view of you working him, soft praises leaving his lips each time. "Hmm- Taking it so fucking good. ah-fuck."

You had one hand on his thigh for support, the other squeezing around the base of his dick in teasing pulsations, teeth ghosting just enough to keep him in check. The threat of pain made him twitch, hissing like your teeth already made contact.

To reward him for being so good at multitasking, you wanted to see if you could take him all the way. A sharp curse leaving him as the tip hits the back of your throat, car violently lurching to the side. You shoot up, gasping as he swerves back into his lane, "shit! sorry- sorry." His hair is stuck to his forehead from sweat, panting with both hands on the wheel now, his cock still standing tall, begging for attention.

You let your breath catch up, placing a hand over your hammering heart, "Jesus fucking Christ, Frank-" you hiss. "What? You started it! and you know what that shit does to me-" he shot back with a weak glare, his need for more still evident but too embarrassed to ask.

You sigh, grateful he didn't just total a car for some head, "Pull over, Frank." An order he follows without hesitation, pulling over on the side of a long road in the middle of nowhere. "Thank you- gods- fucking thank you." His appreciation spills from his lips in waves as he undoes the stubborn seatbelt and pushes his seat back.

His head falls back with a groan as you take him in your mouth again, this time unashamedly bucking up into the heat. His hand, re-tangled in your hair, keeps you from pulling away completely. "That's it- that's my pretty fuckin slut." His hand tugs harder at the roots, pushing you deeper with a moan, "So fucking good-"

You let out a moan of your own, vibrations causing him to fuck into your mouth harder. "Already fucking close-" he warned in between heavy breaths, "can you take more? c'mon- take it." Not giving you much choice despite asking, he pushes your head all the way down, forcing you to breathe exclusively through your nose that was pressed against his thigh as he shallowly fucks into your throat.

"Yes- holy fuck. Sweetheart- cumming-" he strains out as his hip lifts to meet your lips that are desperately trying to pull away for air as thick warm ropes shoot directly down your throat.

Eventually, he went limp, letting your head go as you gasp for air, coughing up whatever couldn't be swallowed. Grumbling a quiet "fuckin greedy asshole-" under your breath, your voice rough from being used. You're met with a blissed out smirk, his eyes half lidded, "What? think I won't return the favor, babe?"

You scoff, rolling your eyes, "You won't because you're about to pass out, Frank. C'mon, let me drive the rest of the way." Not giving him time to respond, you're already swinging the passenger's side door open to switch spots.

He lets out a groan when you open the driver's side door, like even getting up is too much for him right now. A hand runs down his face, stuffing himself back in his jeans as he mumbles out, "Fine, but I swear I'll make it up to you when we get to the hotel."

You give a disbelieving laugh, "Yeah, ok, Romeo. get the hell out so I can drive."

You could hear the faint ticking of the old clock hanging on the wall, the seconds passing by slower than usual. You let out a short sigh, leaning on the register counter, chin resting on your palm.

The day had dragged on far too long, but the dusty record store you worked at would be closing soon, which meant you could go home and rot on the couch for a few hours before passing the hell out.

Just as you start to get up from behind the register counter to start the usual cleaning up before locking up, the tiny bell above the door chimed.

Of course, a customer less than 30 minutes before closing.

You give a pleasant customer service smile, giving your mandatory "welcome in!" greeting. Your eyes only glance at the stranger for a moment before darting back to them, this time wide eyed and slightly flushed.

It was a light skinned man, maybe in his late 30's or early 40's.

He had dark blonde hair that seemed to be grown out just enough for you to tell he liked it that way, despite looking like it needed a trim. His beard matched in color and seemed well maintained, shaping his face, making him look mature. He was more on the chubbier side but it fit his frame perfectly, only adding to his seemingly soft yet masculine aura.

He wore those stereotypical nerd glasses and had a dad hat with a logo of what was probably some older band. His T-shirt and denim jacket matched in vibe, artsy and full of references that probably shaped his personality, making him more inviting.

Was he, by any means, a model? No. But god, you had a type and he hit the nail on the head.

You couldn't help but have your gaze locked on him as he made his way towards his desired genre, Jazz, starting at letter A. You watch as he flicks through the vinyl's, mumbling softy at himself every time he stops on a record that catches his eye.

biting your bottom lip, you search for an opening to go up and talk to him. Mentally facepalming when you realize you work here, just go up and ask if he needs help, duh.

You finally leave the register counter, fixing your shirt as you get up, before moving towards him. He doesn't seem to notice your movement, pausing on another record and mumbling, "don’t have that one yet." He picks it up, adding it to the small forming pile in his arms.

"Looking for anything specific today, sir?" you ask, now standing across from him on the other side of the crates holding the vinyl's. He jumps only slightly as your words knock him out of his focused state.

He blinks at you for a moment. You're pretty. Like, really pretty. The kind of pretty that could sell him anything with just a few words and a quick smile.

"Oh! Uh-" he answers quick, making sure it doesn't look like he's just staring like a creep. "No. Just looking. I saw this place while passing by and thought I could stop by." He gave a soft, almost embarrassed smile, realizing he already has a stack of records. "Glad I did, you guys have a good selection."

He looks around the small shop, realizing he's the only customer. "Uh- You guys are open, right?" he asks, hands suddenly sweaty from embarrassment. The "open" sign was definitely on, right? He read the hours correctly, right? Suddenly second guessing himself, wondering if he was being a total asshole right now.

You gave a soft laugh, "Yep, we're open. our closing time is in about thirty minutes though."

He gives a slight wince, "Shit- I didn't realize it was so close to closing-" but you cut him of with a soft wave of your hand, "Don't be! I'll be cleaning past closing anyways. I'm in no rush." a total lie, but you think you'd die if you kicked this handsome man out just because you wanna rot in bed.

He puts a hand to his chest, sighing in relief, "Oh thank gods- Thank you..." his eyes dart down to your name tag "Y/N." you fill in the gap "Thank you Y/N." he smiles appreciatively.

"Of course, happy to have you in!" giving a short nod, signaling as a 'I'll leave you alone now.' "I'll be cleaning up around the shop if you have any questions or concerns." already silently cursing yourself for how the conversation was so short and formal.

He returns the same nod, eyes going back to the records he has been flipping through, taking a deep breath to recalibrate himself.

----

After a few long moments of silence, besides the sound of his flicking through the records and you cleaning up, Patrick speaks up. "Do you guys play background music in here, or..." meeting him with a soft laugh from you.

"Usually, yeah. But I have the worst luck when it comes to playing vinyl's. They always end up scratched and scuffed." you shrug.

You'd definitely been scolded at for not playing music but it wasn't worth the cost of having to buy the records you messed up, plus it wasn't your fault they didn't allow you to play music from your phone.

"Ironic to be working here, right?"

He gives a nod, understanding as he flips the record he's holding, reading the lists of songs on it before he speaks up again. "If I buy this one, you think I could play it? just a few of the songs. Yknow- to make sure it plays right." he's already moving towards the register, putting the record, Miles Davis' Kind of Blue, on the counter.

You give a soft laugh, moving to the other side of the register. "Its your luck, not mine." you shrug with a smile, fulfilling the transaction. "Player is over there," you point at the little display at the corner of the room, holding a player and a place to show off the records cover.

He smiles, taking the record from her hand after paying. "Wanna see how I play 'em? maybe you could learn a thing or two...?" he offers softly.

You cant help but raise a brow, scoffing. "Gonna mansplain record playing to me?" you cant help but tease, laughing as you watch him sputter, face fully flushed now.

"What? no- nonono- I just meant-" you stop him with another wave of your hand "I know- I know. Just joking with you... uh-" you wait for him to fill in the gap with his name. "Right! Patrick- I'm Patrick."

"Patrick." You test the name on your tongue, nodding when it sounds right "Show me you record playing ways, Patrick."

----

It's a little past closing, not that either of you were paying much attention to time. you both were distracted in conversation, sharing your favorite albums and genres, giving recommendations and "must listen to" artists.

Patrick eventually checks out his stack of records, spending way more than he originally planned because who can say no to a pretty lady telling him he absolutely has to listen to this album? Not him, apparently.

"Hopefully I'll see you around?" he gives a hopeful smile, having genuinely enjoyed your shared conversation. Despite how much he'd like to, he knows it might freak you out if he asks for your number right now, considering they were alone in the shop and it was past closing.

You give a quiet hum, nodding, "I'll be here. Come by any time, I could get used to a handsome face like yours being around." giving him a wink as you hand him his box (yes, a box, because he had far too many vinyl's to trust a bag with holding them) of records.

He gives a soft yet victorious smile, happy to have not been shut down. "In that case, I'll find my way back here with some of my takeaways from your oh so sweet recommendations." he gently teased, returning the wink, simply because he doesn't have the hands to wave.

"Bye, nice meeting you Y/N!" he presses his back against the door, pushing it open for himself to leave. "See ya, Patrick. Be safe out there!" you wave.

Once he was out of sight, you let out a loud sigh. You were happy to have such a sweet encounter but you still had some cleaning up to do. "Fuck." you groan, tired head in your hands. Yeah, you were going to pass out the second you got home.

A/N: can you tell I've never written dialog? this fic writing shit is hard. also is the color coding of the dialogue too much? it personally helps me but idk if other people like it :P