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penwieldingdreamer · 1 year ago

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A Shot in the Dark ~ Prologue

Well, welcome to my latest obsession - FBI and OA Zidan. This is a crossover between FBI, FBI: Most Wanted & Blue Bloods. Let me know what you think and if you'd like to be tagged in any future chapters.

I do not own any of the characters of the FBI Franchise and Blue Bloods, they belong to their respective owners

Summary It's said, you'll always meet twice in life. But you never thought it be in a hostage situation with a gun pressed against your head.

Warnings: hostage situation, canon typical violence, coarse language, smut in later chapters

The human mind is really the scariest thing of all.

Life in general is scary, and yet you step out of your home each day and face it. You imagine how a situation might turn out if you just changed one thing in your day to day life. Sometimes it’s the sandwich they didn’t have at the bakery and sometimes it’s the choice you make on the job.

“Andrew, drop the gun and let my sister go!” Detective Danny Reagan called, his own weapon trained on the former NYPD officer, voice shaking as he looked at you, seeing his own fear mirrored in your eyes. “She’s got nothing to do with this. You want me. Let the kids and her go.”

Shaking his head, former police officer Andrew O'Sullivan pushed the muzzle of his gun harder against your temple. "They are all the leverage I need to get you to do what I want."

"O'Sullivan! This is Agent Scott and Agent Bell with the FBI. Surrender your weapons and let the hostages go. We will make sure that your demands are met, but you need to let the kids and Miss Reagan go."

You could feel the tears running down your cheeks, but you knew you had to be strong for the children. Their parents put you in charge and you, as their teacher, needed to make sure they'd get out safe. “Please Mister O’Sullivan, you got me, let the children go home. They don’t have anything to do with this.”

Your heart was hammering in your throat watching your brother desperately trying to get Andrew to drop the weapon, the ground feeling like it was going to be pulled from underneath you. And here you thought it was going to be a good day today.

Five hours earlier, 9:15 Bluestone Lane Tribeca Café

"So, heard anything from tall, dark and handsome? You looked cute together."

“Erin!”

“Mom! You’re embarrassing her.”

The lawyer grinned into her coffee mug as the three of you sat together for breakfast. "What!? I saw pictures from way back when. It's been more than four years now, just thought maybe you'd have a run in with him again."

"Nope, haven't seen him since before he started training at Quantico and you would know that. I'm practically living with dad and pop again after those idiots living above me wouldn't have smoked weed and forgot to shut off the water."

Nicky only rolled her eyes at her mother trying to play matchmaker – as always. “You should leave Y/N alone. Danny would have a field day if she came home with him.”

“Thank you, Nicky, I knew why you were my favorite niece.” You took a bite from your chocolate croissant. Usually you’d be getting the breakfast sandwich the café was famous for but today they were all out.

“I’m your only niece, so that’s not a hard feat to do.”

“Yet.” You pointed a finger at the younger woman. “And I don’t even know where he is. I’ll not be running after him and use dads resources to find him.”

“All I’m saying is that you should get laid, you can’t just stay a single workaholic forever."

Sending your sister a disapproving look, you could see the disgust on your nieces face. She was old enough to be part of that conversation and already had one boyfriend, yet you knew she was absolutely embarrassed by her mother's choice of breakfast conversation.

"Mom! God! I'll be heading off to work or you'll start talking about dad and yourself." Nicky, so much like Erin grabbed her purse and to-go cup, leaned over to kiss her mother's cheek before she moved next to you. With her arm draped over your shoulder, she leaned in as if to whisper into your ear but still spoke at normal volume. "Don't let her bully you into looking him up. You do you, Auntie, but she's right, you need to get laid."

Slack jawed at her gall, you turned accusatory eyes on the lawyer. "That's definitely on you, Erin. You taught her to be like that."

"Well, she's definitely got that from me and she'd make a great lawyer like that."

Letting out a sigh, you leaned back in your chair.

Damn, they were right.

Quickly apologizing to God under your breath, you try to anchor yourself to your mug. It had been years since you had seen Omar. You had met him outside a bar in the Financial District, after a date had dumped her right before dessert, telling her she wasn’t worth his time.

“He’s a dick, he wasn’t going to know what to do with you anyway.”

You sat together at the bar and talked about random stuff – friends, hobbies, only things that wouldn’t compromise him as you later found out he was undercover for the DEA.

“You’re quiet, what are you thinking about?”

Blinking, you watched your sister with a small, wistful smile, something she had seen so often when you had gone out to have breakfast with Nicky and her every Saturday morning. “Nothing.” You shrugged your shoulders, but the secret smile that barely turned up the corners of your mouth was still there and the lawyer knew that one, she had seen it often enough.

Erin took a sip from her coffee, narrowing her eyes at you. “Don’t give me that shit, Y/N. It’s Tall, Dark and Handsome isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You admitted quietly, looking down at your fingers, busy playing with the white napkin under your croissant.

“You should get Eddie to look for him, maybe he’s in town.”

Shaking your head vigorously. “No, I’ll not be looking for him. We would have seen each other, probably...maybe.”

“New York is huge, you think you’d just walk down Broadway and bam! There he is? Y/N, I can assure you, that’s not how it works.” She laughs, knowing all about it with her ex-husband Jack. “You want him, you need to look for him, he’s not just going to turn up if you snap your fingers.”

“Well, maybe I don’t want to look for him, maybe it wasn’t meant to be if I haven’t run into him by now. Or maybe he’s somewhere in D.C., happily married with 1.93 kids, living in the suburbs and chasing the bad guys.”

Chuckling, the lawyer shook her head at you. “You got it all figured out now, huh? Maybe he’s still single, thinking about that maybe with you. He was really nice when he came around for lunch that day.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me, Eddie wouldn’t shut up about him for a week straight.” Just then your phone chimed, letting you know that you needed to get ready to get to your Junior High class for their field trip to the museum. You would meet them together with their parents right in front of the museum. “Shit, I’m late! Sorry Erin, I got to head off.”

“We’re not done talking about him!” She called after you as you raced out of the cafe to the next Metro station.

An hour and a half later you remind your seventh grade students to be nice and listen closely to the lady showing you around the National History Museum. “There’s going to be a test on Monday next week, so you guys should take notes on all of this.”

A groan ripped through the hall and I knew they hated me for this. “But Miss Reagan, you said we could have fun today.” Jimmy calls from the back, a frown on his cute face.

Giggling, you shook your head. They were still thinking it was just going to stay easier from there on out. “I did, but it doesn’t mean you guys can slack off on your school work. This is going to help you with your Science project.”

Groans, followed by sighs from your students were the end of that conversation. You and the group of thirteen-year-olds followed Mrs. Langdon as she talked about the museum, which exhibitions had already been part of the building and what was waiting for the boys and girls of Lower Manhattan Middle School. They were in the Early Adolescence stage and it was absolutely normal for them to act like that. With Nicky, Jack and Sean you had been exposed to that stage early on and you loved them for it.

You entered the Saurichian Hall of the museum, awed by the skeletons, the hairs on your arms starting to raise from the goosebumps at the imagination of having lived back in time, 66 millennia’s ago. But somehow, it wasn’t the only thing that gave you the shivers. At the entrance of the museum you had seen a guy, dressed like everyone else. But you had been around police your whole life and listened to your bothers to know that something was definitely wrong with him. His head was down but you saw his eyes darting about like he was searching for something – or someone.

Getting to the next section, you slightly turned your head away from your students excitingly listening to the tales of each dinosaur exhibited at the museum.

There he was again, the backpack slung low on his shoulders and it looked like he was sweating. Was he sick and needed help? If so, wouldn’t he have asked the people at the front desk or even stayed at home.

Danny had always told you to be vigilant about suspicious people roaming about and this guy fit the description. Should you text Danny or Jamie? They were probably busy with their cases and if he was just a creep you’d make a fool out of yourself and maybe your dad in extension.

Police Commissioner’s daughter accuses visitor at the National History Museum to be a creep and makes a laughing stock out of the Reagan family.

Now that would be the headline of the week.

Turning back to listen to Mrs. Langdon and your students with a sigh you missed him pulling out a gun from under his jacket, pointing it at your back before slightly lifting it up and pulling the trigger.

11:40, Joint Operations Center

“Alright guys, we've got a hostage situation at the National History Museum. Twenty-two students from LoMa Middle School and their teacher. This is high profile. Detective Reagan with the NYPD called it in about fifteen minutes ago.” ASAC Jubal Valentine’s voice rang out through the JOC. He motioned to Elise, one of the Analysts to put every information on the screens. “This is Y/N Reagan, she’s a teacher at the school and also the daughter of New York City Police Commissioner Frank Reagan.”

Your picture popped up on the screens, a happy smile on your face as you sat together with your father and your brother Jamie at a city function.

“You know, now that I’m done with my trainee-ship as teacher, we could make it official. Dad wants me to tag along at this function or other and I’d like to take you as my plus one.” You smiled at him, your arms slung around his neck as you lounged together on his bed.

Omar ran his fingers from your shoulder to your elbow and up again. He loved the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, slightly roughed from the army. “It would be nice, I’d love to finally show you off to my family as well. Erin has been nagging me like a hen to know who the guy is making me smile all day.” He smiled, nuzzling her neck and listening to her giggles as his nose and beard rubbed up and down against that point where her neck met her shoulder.

"I'd like that. I bet your sister isn't the only one nagging." He chuckled, burrowing closer and pushing his lower half against yours earning a soft groan from you.

Your fingers raked over his head, feeling the short cropped hair tickle the palm of your hands. “Pop and dad are already giving me those penetrative looks, you know the ones where they are acting like cops and trying to read a suspects thoughts.”

Closing his eyes, the former army ranger breathed in your scent. It was the one thing that grounded him on days his mind sent him back to Iraq. “From what you told me I’m more afraid of your brother, not your father and grandpa.”

Omar moved next to Maggie, a soft Shit leaving his lips as his eyes swept over the screens. It had been a few years since he’d last seen you, only a few days short of leaving for his training at Quantico. Seeing your face, tear track staining your cheeks with the suspect pressing his gun to your head.

The brunette watched her partner, the fingers of his left hand anxiously playing with his ring. A sign that he was nervous. A sign Maggie had learned in the beginning when they first were partnered up.

“You know her?”

He sighed, “We, ugh, we dated for a while before, before I went into training. I...broke it off, because I thought she’d be better off without me.”

“Gosh, OA.” Maggie murmured, scratching a fingernail along her eyebrow thoughtfully. She knew her partner had been in relationships before – he was Muslim, not a virginal saint, but she had never seen him this distraught or anxious.

It was clear as day that you were still important to him and it took everything in him to not run out the door and drive off toward the museum.

"What do we have on the suspect?" Isobel questioned, coming to stand next to her 2nd in charge.

"Suspect is 40 year old Andrew O'Sullivan, former police officer with the NYPD, 54th Precinct and bomb specialist with the Marines. Detective Daniel Reagan, Y/N’s older brother was part of the investigation against him.” Kelly Moran, an analyst at the JOC spoke up, tapping hastily on his keyboard and sending the pictures of their suspect to the bigger screens. “He took drugs from evidence and tried to sell it on the street. O’Sullivan needed it for his daughter, she has leukemia and he was going to take the money to pay for her treatments.”

The analyst pressed a key to show the picture of a little girl, maybe ten years old, grinning at the camera. “Lena O’Sullivan, she”

“His daughter died two days ago, that’s why he’s doing it. He wanted to save her from it and we took the money that would pay for her treatment. Andrew has been angry with me for a while and called me after Lena died.” A new voice sounded from behind them, strong and authoritative, yet they could all hear the pain laced into his words. “He has my sister and if you guys don’t get a move on, Andrew is going to kill them all.” Detective Daniel Reagan had made his way to the JOC, knowing he couldn’t make a move against O’Sullivan without the people of the FBI. You were his little sister and he’d be damned just sitting around at the precinct when he needed to get you to safety. More so when Erin would have his head for being the reason the former officer had you and your kids as hostages.

#oa zidan x reader #oa zidan #reagan family #fbi #fbi most wanted #blue bloods #reagan sister!reader #danny reagan #fbi cbs imagine #blue bloods imagine #fbi x blue bloods #fanfic #fanfic writing

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a-babe-without-a-name · 3 months ago

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Sit Next To Me

Chapter 2: Wanna See a Magic Trick?

You had created two rules for yourself.

Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free.

Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits.

Easy enough, right?

...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Chapters 1 &2 were supposed to be 1 chapter and then it got wayy too long. So the first 2 chapters of this fic are done, and the rest is being written. If you like it, let me know! It helps the process for sure. If you don't like it, eh, that's fine but keep it to yourself.

Read on AO3

“Do you want to make out?” You tipped your head to the side innocently, but were unable to hide your amused smile, encouraged by the second of shock on his face.

“You are very abrasive,” He frowned, but looked more conflicted than angry.

“So is that a no or…” You snarked, rolling your eyes.

He looked down at you next to him, amber eyes watching yours, searching for something. Slowly he ducked his head, face inches from yours as he looked down to your lips.

“Tell me when to stop,” He breathed, his words sending a jolt of electricity down your spine.

When you didn’t reply, his eyes moved back up to yours, expectant, waiting. You gasped for breath, the skill of breathing escaping you as you nodded too quickly. He snorted a laugh at your eagerness, the corner of his lip pulling up just slightly. He moved closer again, open mouth ghosting against yours, like he was giving you one last chance to back out. Normally you’d become irritated when a man decided for once in his life to take it slow when all you wanted to do was go fast. This was different, he was different. You felt like you were drowning in everything about him and he hadn’t even kissed you yet.

And when he did, you decided you could drown in him forever.

Slowly he pressed his lips to yours, soft and warm, eyes falling closed as he tasted you. You tilted your chin up, wanting more of him. His tongue pushed against yours, the taste of mint and gin mixing with the weed you two had been smoking. He pulled your bottom lip between his teeth, biting hard enough to elicit a whine from your throat.

Without breaking the kiss he twisted his back and scooped an arm under your shoulders. He cradled you halfway under him, the other hand gripping your waist. You forced the pace to quicken, moving your mouth against his with almost bruising force. He fought back, the hand on your waist moving to your jaw, his fingers moving tenderly against your cheek, forcing you to slow down. When you relaxed, he moved his hand back to your waist, fingers brushing against the hem of the borrowed t-shirt.

He pulled back, trying to hide how hard he was breathing. He fluttered his fingers against the hem of the shirt, “Is this okay?”

You quirked an eyebrow at him, “Did I ask you to stop?”

He swallowed hard, eyes fluttering shut at your tone. His mouth found yours again, settling on a pace somewhere between what you and him wanted. It worked. It was perfect. His hands were slow, cold against your burning skin. He splayed his hand flat against your ribs, trying to hold as much of you as he could in his palm. You sucked his top lip into your mouth, biting gently and wishing you could leave marks on him. He cupped your breast in his hand, kneading gently and flicking his thumb across your nipple.

“Fuck,” You panted, unable to help the way your head tilted back, your back arching up into his touch. You would’ve been embarrassed by the reaction to such a small thing, but in the moment you really couldn't be bothered to care.

He took the opportunity to attach his lips to your neck, messily kissing your skin. Your hand tangled into his hair, pulling gently at the soft chestnut strands. The whimper he let out made your thighs snap together, and you pulled on him harder, dying to hear it again. He gave you exactly what you wanted, the sound tumbling from his lips like a hymn. He let you pull his neck back, panting with half lidded eyes and a blush that would rival a peach, the beauty marks on his face standing out against the color.

His lips pulled back over his teeth in a dazed smile as he looked down on you, your hand still tangled tightly in his hair. He tried to move towards your lips again, but you pulled him away by the hair, forcing his head sideways so you could bite down on the pale column of his neck. You could feel the shift of the couch as his hips gave a microscopic and involuntary buck. You wanted to fuck him. You needed to fuck him.

You dragged your knee up, slightly unsure of where to actually go in the position you were in but he got the hint. His hand left your chest, moving up to grab your jaw. He held your face as he licked into your mouth, kissing you like you were the last thing he’d ever taste. When he was sure you weren’t going to pull away again to attack his neck he dragged his hand down your side, at just the right speed and pressure to make you burn for more. He grabbed the back of your knee, pulling your leg up to drape across his waist. He squeezed the back of your thigh with a content sigh, moving his fingers over your skin like he wanted to map every pore, every freckle, and scar. His fingers wandered higher, cupping the curve of your ass and pulling you closer. You clung to the front of his shirt with one hand, the other on the side of his neck. Fingertips brushing against his hairline.

He pulled away, more like forced himself away, panting above you with his eyes screwed shut, a hard line between his eyebrows.

You kissed his jaw gently, reaching up to smooth the lines of his face, “Relax, Pretty Boy,” You practically cooed, “I’m not going anywhere.”

He pressed his forehead to yours, eyes searching yours again. You weren’t sure what for. Regret? Hesitation? Fear? When he didn’t find anything telling him no, he grabbed your waist, pulling you upright.

“C’mere,” His voice was shaky, holding back, “Please.”

You giggled and pecked his lips, “So polite,”

“Just, uh, carefully,” He told you, keeping a grip on your leg to guide it. When you quirked your head he gestured to his own leg.

He wore a brace, extending from his mid thigh to mid calf. You hadn’t noticed it, the black material almost faded completely against the dark denim of his jeans, not to mention the high and your distraction with other parts of his body.

“Oh, sorry,” You said without thinking, trying to shift away.

“For what?” He asked, raising an eyebrow, grip on your leg keeping you in place.

“I…I don’t know,” You chewed on your lower lip, wishing you hadn’t said it, “I just, I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m not gonna break, darling,” He assured you, gently forcing you to straddle his lap, “Just don’t put all of your weight on that one leg, and we’re all good.”

You hesitated, suddenly aware of your every movement. He didn’t seem irritated with your concern, luckily, but he definitely wanted to dispel any worry. He grabbed your face with both hands and pulled you into a rough kiss.

“I mean, if you really need to put all your weight on my thigh,” He panted into your mouth, “You are more than welcome to ride the other one.”

You couldn’t help but whine into his mouth. His hands moved from your face, he grabbed the back of your knees and yanked you closer to him, forcing you to stop your hovering and press down flush against him. He was so hard, the feeling of his cock beneath his jeans releasing all the nervous tension in your body. You let yourself settle against him, creating even more contact.

“Good girl,” He muttered, doing his best to keep from rutting up against you. Trying to have some self control.

Heat pooled between your legs as you kissed him, tongue invading his mouth as you gave one hard roll of your hips, practically begging for more friction.

“God, don’t hold back now,” You teased, licking along his jaw as you ground down against him now. You wished you had worn the skirt, “I’m not gonna break, darling.”

He scoffed as you quoted him, the sound caught off by a groan as you pushed down again, biting on his neck at the same time. He gave in, rolling his hips against yours, finding a steady rhythm that was satisfying without being too obscene.

Your hands found the buttons of his shirt, you easily opened them until his chest and stomach was fully exposed. When you pulled away, you could practically drooled over him. The beauty marks from his face were scattered across his torso. Dark constellations against a pale sky. Like his hands, his body was slender but not delicate. You ran your nails down his chest, tracing from one beautiful mark to the next. He watched your face as you chewed on your lower lip, fingers tracing the delicate trail of hair from his navel to the waist of his jeans.

“You’re gorgeous,” You couldn't help but to admit, he blushed under your scrutiny, eyes falling shut as you dragged your hand back up his chest. You gently wrapped your fingers around the base of his neck, not squeezing just holding. You felt his Adam's apple bob against your palm, “Such a pretty boy.”

“Not fair that I’m showing more skin than you,” He tried to joke, opening his eyes halfway, fingers moving under the hem of your shirt again.

“You can just ask me to take my shirt off, ya know.” You teased, leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his sternum, looking up at him through your lashes, “I mean, I kinda like being told what to do sometimes…only if you want to.”

He took a slow breath, you could practically see the gears turning as he thought of his next move. You rest your chin against his chest, still looking up at him expectantly.

Finally he grabbed a fistfull of your hair, right at the base of your skull. You could feel both his desire and concern. You gave a small encouraging smile, urging him on. When he yanked, you let him pull you back with a gasp, the feeling making our head go fuzzy.

“That’s more like it,” You panted, head still tilted back, you looked down your nose at him, “Now, tell me what you want Pretty Boy.”

“Take your shirt off,” He nodded his chin at you, voice hesitantly firm,“Now. Please.”

“Still so polite,” You smiled, gripping the bottom of your shirt, “I appreciate it.”

When you pulled your shirt off, you made sure to give him a show. A reward for doing what you asked. You pushed your chest out, arching your back in a way that made your hips press down into his cock. When you were free of your shirt, you froze under his eyes. His jaw hung open slightly as he drank you in. His eyes traced every line and curve of your body. He was looking at you like you were a specimen, like he could learn so much just by studying your figure and form. You were happy to let him.

He reached out, fixing a rogue strand of hair on your head. The gesture was softer than you expected, making you pull in a shaky breath. He grabbed your hands, taking the shirt away and tossing it to the side. Gently he pulled your arms past his neck, encouraging you to lean into him. He kissed you, deep but soft. His cold hands moved up your back, fingers moving against your spine so delicately goosebumps rose across your skin. The sudden change in pace almost making you forget you were in a dingy garage and that he was a stranger.

You realized you had completely abandoned your movements, hips still in his lap. The short seconds of tenderness made you panic. This was not the place and he was not the person.

You bit his lip again, hands tangling in his hair as you rocked your hips against him again. The layers between you dulling the feeling. He caught up to your pace, one hand moving around your side to grab at your chest, and the other wrapping around your waist, holding you close as you bucked up into you. You felt like you were gonna soak through your shorts. You dragged a hand down his front, letting your nails leave faint red lines on their way down. At the waist of his jeans, you tugged at the button undoing it easily.

“Is this okay?” You asked against his lips, wanting to be sure.

“Fuck yes, please.” He panted, hands moving up your back to hold onto your shoulder blades, practically bracing himself as you undid the zipper on his jeans, tugging them down enough to palm him through his boxers.

He hissed at the contact, head falling onto your shoulder as you teased him. He bit down on your shoulder, hard enough to make you wince. You hoped it would bruise.

You grabbed his hair, pulling him off you and placing a kiss to his lips before shoving home back against the couch.

“Tell me what to do.” You told him, sitting back a little, careful not to put too much weight on his bad leg.

“Touch me.” It was more of a beg than a demand, but you appreciated the effort.

You pulled him out of his boxers, sucking in a breath at the sight of him. Even his dick was pretty, the trail of hair you had touched earlier ended tidily at his base, a slight delicate curve up, perfect pink tip already leaking, precum dripping down his length. He was big too, certainly over average, almost to an intimidating degree. You could suppress a soft laugh at the thought that crossed your mind.

His face dropped in horror, “Absolutely not cool to laugh in this situation,” He choked out.

“I’m sorry!” You said, waving a hand at him, “It’s just…it’s always the skinny guys that are so big.”

His face flamed red, he swallowed hard and looked to the side, “Shut up.”

“Well, I could,” You told him, tilting your head and taking the base of him in your hand. Your fingertips didn’t meet. He gasped, hands clinging to your thighs and eyes fluttering shut as you stroked him slowly, spreading precum over him. You rubbed your thumb over the slit at the tip, enamored with how he felt in your hand, “But then, I couldn’t tell you how perfect you are. Which I really want to do, ya know. I want to tell you that you have the most perfect cock I’ve ever seen.” He gasped, stomach muscles flexing as he twitched in your grasp, “I bet you taste amazing. So pretty and big, god, I love how you feel in my hand. I can’t wait to feel you inside me.”

“Ah, fuck.” He gasped, without hesitation he hands flew to the button of your shorts, yanking them open with desperation.

You yelped, fingers brushing over your tummy in just a way to tickle you, “Hey, careful,” You joked, “I like these shorts.”

“I wish you were wearing a skirt,” He muttered, doing his best to focus on the button and zipper of your shorts with his dick still in your hand.

“Tell me about it,” You rolled your eyes, cursing Lest.

With your free hand, you helped him out, popping open the tight button. He didn’t waste a second in shoving his hand between your legs, feeling you through your underwear. You gasped at the simple contact, his hands cold against you.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” He growled, your hand gripping into his wrist, definitely leave crescent shaped nail marks on his skin, “This all for me, baby?”

You looked at him through hooded eyes, pleased with his sudden confidence boost. You nodded, jaw falling open as he pressed the tips of his fingers against your clit.

“Fuck, yes, please,” You muttered, unable to form a proper sentence, “Need you so bad.”

You ground down against his fingers, not able to help yourself. You took him in your hand again, pumping your first and leaning forward to kiss him. Suddenly he froze, it only took half a second for you to follow suit.

“What?” You asked, fully present and incredibly worried you had done something wrong or hurt him.

“I… I don’t have a condom, fuck.” His jaw hung open, he looked like he had seen war.

“Oh, hm,” You sat back as his finger retreated from your shorts, “Wanna see a magic trick?”

“What?” His face contorted in confusion, your question throwing him completely for a loop.

“It’s a good one, I promise,” You giggled, letting go of him and sitting up on your knees, shorts sliding down your hips a little.

You reached behind the couch, tits practically in Pretty Boy's face, despite the situation he took the opportunity to pull one of your nipples into his mouth, tongue swirling around the hard peak. You gasped, blinking through the feeling to resume your mission. You reached farther behind the couch, praying to any god that was spying in on you. You grinned when your fingertips found exactly what you wanted. You tried to sit back, but he held you where you were, not finished with you just yet. His hands squeezed your ass as his mouth traveled to the other breast, giving it the same attention.

“Ah, fuck,” You grabbed his hair when you couldn't take anymore, pulling his mouth off you with a soft pop.

You sat back on his lap, holding the condom up in front of you with a proud smile.

He tilted his head to the side, “Was that…behind the couch?”

“Yeah,” You laughed, mentally thanking Mel and her need to be fucked whenever she smoked, “Uh, this couch is…well worn in. It’s best not to think about it too much.”

He glanced at the fabric beneath him, nose scrunching. You held the condom out to him dramatically, “A gift for you, sir.”

“Thank you very very much, miss,” He replied, taking it from your hand, “now take those god forsaken shorts off.”

You scrambled off his lap, watching him intently as you wiggled your shorts off. The cuff was wide enough for you to step out of them without taking your shoes off. You stood between his spread knees in nothing but your underwear and high top sneakers. He looked like a deity, or maybe an angel, lazily leaning back against the couch. He opened the condom wrapper with his teeth, watching you as he rolled it down his length. You couldn’t help but stare, shirt split open, his cock laying pink and heavy against his pale stomach, you watched as he lifted his hips, pushing his boxers and jeans just a few more inches down his legs and then grabbed himself, giving a few slow strokes as he stared right back up at you.

“You’re-”

You both started at the same time, making a laugh bubble out of your chest.

“No, I get to say it this time,” He pouted, sitting up. His hands slid up the side of your thighs, all the way up to your waist before settling against your ass, the cheeky cut of your underwear giving him full access to your skin. He pressed his nose to your stomach, breathing in deeply before resting his chin against you, looking up at you, Pupils completely blown out, his irises the smallest amber rings, “You are so beautiful.”

His teeth dug into the soft flesh, tongue smoothing over the redness when he let go, he continued this along your hips and down to the waist of your underwear, pulling back slightly to look at them. He traced a finger along the lacy edge.

“I love pretty things meant to be taken off,” He told you, looking up through his lashes.

When you didn’t say anything, he brought a hand down on your ass. Not hard enough to really hurt, but enough for you to gasp and straighten up.

“What was that for?” You asked, blinking down at him with wide eyes.

A grin split his face as he looked up at you, then he shrugged, “I don’t know, I just wanted to do it.”

“Okay, brat,” You rolled your eyes, and scoffed jokingly.

“Come here,” He laughed, grabbing your knees and pulling you down to straddle his lap again.

You braced your arms against the couch, caging his head in. You watched him lick his lips before sliding his hand between your things again, this time he pushed your underwear to the side. His fingers ran smoothly against you, traveling up and down your slit, stopping to rub slow circles around your clit. You couldn’t help the moans that slipped past your lips, eyes falling shut.

“No, look at me,” He told you, voice filled more with want than demand.

You blinked your eyes open, blushing as he watched your every move. You felt his fingers tease at your entrance, a question in his eyes. You gave a small nod and easily slipped two fingers into you. You cried out softly, forehead falling against his as you panted, curses falling from your mouth. He tilted his chin, kissing you as he curled his fingers against your walls, thumb pressing to your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, oh fuck.” Your voice shook against his mouth, he smirked.

“Quite the vocabulary,” He teased you, fingers moving slowly in and out.

“Yeah, top of- ah!” You gasped when he separated his finger in you, stretching you wider, “Top of my english classes.”

“Oh I’m sure,” He snorted, and then kissed you as he pulled his fingers out and away from you, swallowing the whimpers you let out, “You said you wanted to feel me inside you right? Can’t keep my fingers in there at the same time.”

“You could certainly try,” You joked, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Hm, maybe try taking just my cock first, yeah?” He asked, laughing softly.

“Will do,” You said seriously, watching as you studied your wetness on his fingers. Before you could protest, he put his fingers in his mouth, eyes on yours as he tasted you. Your face burned as his eyes fell shut, tongue swirling between the digits, groan coming from deep in his throat.

He pulled you down, sighing as you ground down against him, finally free of the layers of fabric. His length slid smoothly between your folds, making both of you go dumb for a moment. Unable to wait any more he grabbed your hips, getting you to sit up a little higher on your knees.

“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” He told you firmly, looking up at you for confirmation.

“Yeah, yes I will,” You promised, eagerness ripping at your insides.

He lined himself up, tip teasing at your entrance. He watched your face as you sank down onto him, your lips parted and eyebrows furrowed.. He gasped as you took him in, unable to keep his jaw from hanging open, all his energy being used to keep his hips still until you were ready. He filled you in the most amazing way, stretching you more than probably anyone else. You wanted more of him, you needed all of him.

“Hey, I usually have stuff to help,” He told you, “You don’t have to go all-”

His own strangled cry cut him off as he bottomed out, your pelvis flush against his. You dropped your head to his shoulder panting heavily.

“Fuck, are you okay?” He asked, concern filling his voice, “You didn’t need to do that.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. His breath hitched at the sight of your face, pupils huge, cheeks red, lips swollen, looking completely fucked out all ready, “I wanted to, need all of you in me.”

“Ah, fuck.” He groaned, dropping his forehead against yours, his voice strained, “Fuck, let me know when I can move.”

You kissed him, letting yourself adjust for a few more seconds before rocking against him. You lifted yourself into your knees a little, his cock sliding halfway out before you pushed back down. He whined, bucking up against you. When you were confident this wouldn’t result in a very embarrassing ER trip, you picked up your pace, sliding up and down on him. The feeling sent sparks across every muscle in your body, you licked into his mouth, trying to quiet your moans as much as possible. He jerked up into you, throwing off your rhythm for a moment.

When you found the movement together, though? You swear you had died and gone to some filthy sticky version of heaven. You cried out, clinging to his shoulders. He wrapped an arm around your waist to steady you, the other on the back of your thigh helping you move with him.

“Ah, fuck baby, feels so good,” He moaned, biting and licking at your jaw, muttering, “cítíte se skvěle, naprosto dokonale.”

You could have taken him for hours, drunk on the ways his hands moved over you, obsessed with the feeling of his cock filling you up. He bit down on your collar bone, you couldn't be bothered to care about the mark he was definitely going to leave. The way he twitched inside you made your entire core tighten up, your walls crushing around him.

He gasped, hand moving between your thighs. He began rubbing your clit, helping you regain the pace when you faltered. You grabbed him by the hair, yanking his head back to kiss him again. It was messy and rough, your teeth tapping together as you devoured each other, tongues invading every area of flesh.

“Come for me, Lasko,” He begged, pumping into you harder, fingers working against you fast, He licked into your mouth, arm around your waist tightening, “Come on my cock like a good girl.”

The feeling of him, against your clit, inside of you, his hands and mouth and breath and spit. It all pushed you closer, and closer to the edge. Every muscle in your body tightened and then released with the most intense pulsing.

“Good girl, so good for me,” He practically cried, taking his hand away from your clit, but fucking you through your climax.

The stuttering of his hips told you he wasn’t far behind. You kept up your movements, ignoring the overstimulation as you continued to slide in and out. You clenched around him involuntarily, finally drawing it out of him. With a whimpering moan he came, both arms wrapping around your waist and his head buried in your chest. He gave a few more stuttering bucks as he filled the condom. You dropped your cheek against the top of his head, both of you breathing like you had just run a marathon.

He pressed a kiss to the base of your throat, still clinging to you, all his muscles suddenly useless. You brushed your fingers through his hair, dragging your nails across his scalp gently. He pulled back, hands moving up and down your back.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking up into your eyes.

“I’m great,” You told him, a soft laugh passing your lips. He flinched, the tensing of your muscles around him way too much to handle. He lifted your hips up, pulling his softening dick out of you. You winced at the sudden emptiness, “Are you good?”

He readjusted your underwear and pressed a kiss to your lips, “I’m perfect, amazing even,” He smiled, you were grateful he was still kind after cumming.

He held onto your waist, leaning you backwards as you reached for something on the table. He pulled back a metal water bottle, offering it to you. You took it gratefully, it was cold and heavy and in your eyes might as well have been holy water. You unscrewed the lid and tilted it back, drinking from it for a few long seconds. He smiled at you fondly, brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. You wiped your mouth on the back of your hand and handed it over to him, watching his tired face as he drank. Still pretty.

Now back in the real world, you realized how exposed you were. You glanced over your shoulder at the unlocked garage door, the sound of music and people still coming faintly from the house. Pretty Boy reached over and grabbed the borrowed t-shirt, turning it right side out and giving it to you. You pulled it on, content to be covered again. He pulled your face to his, kissing you slowly. His tongue tasted like you and was cold from the water. He kissed the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, then your neck. All gentle.

When you pulled away, he tilted his head at the frown on your lips, “What’s wrong, Lasko?” You were dying to know what that meant. You were also dying to stay with him. To go back to wherever he lived and never leave his bed. Fuck it, even locking the garage door and staying here forever would work for you. But the others would be looking for you at some point, if they weren't already.

“I should probably go,” The sadness in your voice betraying you.

“Do you want to go?” He asked, all sincerity.

“No,” You scoffed, unable to lie while he looked at you with all the trust in the world, “But I have to. My roommate is probably looking for me, I was definitely gone a little longer than I said I would.”

“Hm, okay,” He brushed your hair behind your ear again, fingers lingering against your cheek.

You kissed him again, just softly on the lips, before standing up. Your whole body ached, but the joints and muscles of your legs were impossibly stiff. You groaned, stretching your whole body up until your spine cracked with a satisfying pop.

“Ah, nice,” He complimented, stretching out his own back.

You bent down stretching your legs as you reached for your toes, a swift smack on your ass made you gasp, “Rude,” You scolded, standing back up.

“I’m just a man,” He said dramatically, making you roll your eyes as you stepped back into your shorts. He peeled the condom off, cringing as he tied it up and wrapped it in a paper towel, setting it on the ground, “I will deal with that in a second.”

“Yeah don’t forget it,” You warned, holding back a laugh.

He lifted his hips pulling his jeans and boxers back up and tucking himself away, “I’d have to drop out or kill myself… maybe both.”

“That’s fair honestly,” You nodded, watching his pretty hands button up his shirt. You missed them on you already.

“You’re heading out?” He asked, though it sounded more like, ‘please don’t head out’.

“Unfortunately,” You leaned over him, hands on the back of the couch caging him in, you pressed your forehead this, “Thank you for a very good start to the semester, I appreciate it.”

“Likewise,” He punctuated his words with a kiss, lips slotting against yours, tasting you one last time. When you pulled away, he opened his mouth to say something, then sighed, “Have a goodnight, get home safely.”

“Will do,” You kissed the top of his head and turned around. You didn’t look at him as you walked to the door, knowing you’d walk right back to that couch.

Outside, the summer air was practically freezing in comparison to how you felt minutes ago. You straightened your clothes and smoothed your hair as you walked back towards the house, music growing louder as you approached. When you put your hand on the handle of the sliding back door, you froze.

Every cell in your body was screaming at you to turn around. To walk back into the garage, ask for his name, his number, his hand in marriage. All of the crazy thoughts that come with really really good sex. You looked at your fingers wrapped around the handle, imagining them against his cheek. You could still feel him on your skin, against your lips.

Why didn’t you ask his name? You wanted to beat yourself up. It would have taken two seconds, it would have been normal. More normal than not asking his name, honestly. Who does that? Who fucks someone who’s name they don’t even know. You needed to know.

Just as you released the handle and stepped away from the door, it slid open loudly, making you jump. Music poured out of the house, overwhelmingly loud. Lest stood in front of you, perfect face creased with stress and her bag on her shoulder.

“Where have you been?” She snapped at you, and then took a deep breath, calming herself, “You scared me half to death! You left your phone, I was actually on the verge of calling the cops.”

Dramatic as always, it was what you loved about her, “I’m sorry, I was just in the garage. Why didn’t you come get me?” Thank you, thank you, thank you for not coming to get me, you thought.

“What? Jayce said he saw you come back in the house?” She frowned, grabbing your wrist and pulling you inside, you stood close to the cold glass as she spoke.

“It must have been someone else,” You shrugged and reached out for her arm to calm her, but dropped your hand when you realized you should probably wash them first, “I’m sorry, I didn’t even realize I didn’t have my phone on me.”

Lest sighed, “It’s okay, I’m just glad you're okay.”

You have no idea how ok I am, you thought, laughing to yourself.

“What?” She asked tilting her head, “Are you high? Were you smoking by yourself?”

“Nothing, I, yeah, I was.” You lied, hoping she couldn’t tell.

“That's- you shouldn’t do that,” She scolded, “It’s dangerous…and sad.”

You gasped, punching her shoulder gently, “Hey, there is nothing wrong with a little alone time.”

“Okay, whatever you say, freak.” She said, trying to hide her smile.

“Were you wanting to go home?” You asked, remembering that she was holding her bag. You looked around the house, people were definitely leaving, but it wasn’t odd for you and Lest to hang out with Jayce and Cait and the others until it was just your friend group, fighting sleep in favor of each other's company.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” She looked sheepish, “I don’t feel super great. I know it’s still kind of early for us, I don’t mind going home by myself if you don’t want to leave.”

If you stayed, you could go back to Pretty Boy in the garage…

“Nah, I’m down to go home,” You told her, praising yourself for showing even a modicum of self restraint, “We ubering or walking?”

“Oh cool, ubering for sure,” She nodded with wide eyes.

You laughed, “Good, I'm gonna go say bye, I’ll meet you outside?”

“Eh, you might just want to text them,” Lest cringed, “Jayce and Mel already snuck off to his room and Cait and Vi we’re only sticking around down here to keep the place from burning down. Not like either would notice with the way they were sucking face.”

“Ew, don’t say that,” You stuck your tongue out at the childish phrase.

You followed her through the house, grabbing your bag on the way out. When you sat on the curb to smoke a cigarette and wait for your ride, you couldn't help but to glance at the front door. Hoping every time it opened it would be Pretty Boy, leaving the stuffy party to catch his own Uber home. Or maybe walk if he lived close enough. Maybe you’d offer him a drag and ask his name. Maybe he’d have a different girl on his arm. Maybe you would both pretend to not recognize each other.

Luckily, he never gave you the chance to find out.

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