I think my manager fired me but I'm still in the system and he hasn't messaged me but I'm also not scheduled for the next two weeks and I think I've been kicked from the group chat.
I'm about to be homeless and lose my kitten because of it. I'll probably just send myself to a hospital if shit gets worse cuz I'm on the verge of a break down. I just need food while I look for a new job.
— synopsis.ᐟ in which your bestfriend, Leo teaches you how to properly fuck (and make you his for once and all).
— warning.ᐟ fem! reader, switch! leo, CORRUPTION, first time, talking you through it, switch! reader, eventual MESSY smut, praising, degrading, hair pulling, swearing and profanities, car smash, riding, porn with plot, bestfriends to lovers, the condom broke, pulling out, inappropriate use of fire, temperature play, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), dumbification, overstimulation, p in a v, past! leo/calypso, brief smash of leo with random person, leo's also drunk while doing it so, chem! side-major reader, yearning, pining, a sprinkle of angst, all of them are aged up!
— word count.ᐟ 16k (oopsie doosie 😝)
— a.n.ᐟ requested by anon! U and ur genius mind... by far the nastiest smut ive written 🤭 and please tell me if I have miscorrections for the spanish sentences!
Leo Valdez has never had sex before.
Sure, he's extremely charming and he just can't help it when people naturally flaunt to him like an overexcited birds (they do not, don't believe him). But all those times he spent blushing and throwing spanish fluffy innuendos that he's always been hopeful they can't translate it—because he usually compares them to one of his favorite science equations or his inventions—never treated him very well with his silly puppy crushes.
They always end up just brushing him off like he's not even comparable. And to be fair, he is not comparable to any of them.
Like this one time, during a meeting when the campers are talking about the connections of Percy Jackson's disappearance, someone with sweet written lips conjures up the most brilliant tactic right at the table. Every word of her mouth sounds like a siren's song—even when she's talking about the monster's threat and everything sorrow—all Leo hears is how much he wished that voice would be directed to him. To greet him. To acknowledge him.
She's completely out of his league.
But when has that ever stopped him?
So Leo starts slow, just a quick wit against her suggestion every time she's involved in a meeting. Just a quick meet up to talk about quest strategies and his position in the prophecy. Serious talks always leads to lighthearted ones. That's how he found out you and him are not so different.
Because one time during a meeting at the impending final, Leo spouts a brilliant (horrible) one liners when they're in the brink of getting finished by Gaea, she has the audacity to scrunch her nose, crinkle her brows, and try the hardest not to burst a sharp laughter. No way she's gonna ruin the atmosphere and get scolded by Jason Grace for laughing. And definitely not for Leo Valdez's jokes out of all reason.
Sure, the thing about the absurdity of their impending doom and the fact that they're only teenagers forced into fighting a god's war is funny.
So guess what, two years later?
That girl and him are now best friends. Practically inseperable, twins at birth (preferably conjoined), that is proven more when Festus constantly takes her side more than he does with Leo. The sheer audacity! For stealing his first homeboy, for stealing his hoodies, for stealing his handmade tacos whenever he looks away for one second, for stealing entire shower utensils (so he needs to make two birria tacos in exchange to share shampoo with Jake Mason), for being you.
You, who's his best friend. You, who's sitting in front of the operation table not far from where he's working. You, who's currently humming a song—and Wicked Game by Chris Isaak out of all songs. And you, who does all your small adorable habits, while his table are filled with notebooks of your school subjects and highlighters with colors Leo can't even count one by one.
He's being banished in his own bunker. Being mistreated, more so. The wire between his fingers sparks up as if knowing his prolonged attention on you. His situation is not so different from yours. Shards of micro metals scatters on the rugged floor, collections of screws all used up beside him, and the sketch of a small wasp engraved on the paper in front of him. It may look normal from upfront, but you're dead wrong if you think his innovations are gonna be any normal.
"You know, just a heads up," he starts off with that familiar snark, handling the unconnected wires that flies tiny fireworks from the chemistry. "No one but me can open this bunker before in a hundred of years. No one but me can sit so pretty while singing off tune and tries to write a new chemistry theory and start an argument with a dead scientist."
Your head flings upwards from the trashes of equations, eyes widening a slight before you turn from your very precious notes about Niels Bohr's phenomenons. "Excuse me?" your nose scrunches, face knitted in that sour mood as you swing in your (his) chair to meet his sitting figure. "We can just take it right outside if you have a problem with me."
Leo groans a loud one, and he'd run a palm over his face right now if he's not wearing a glove full off mechanical fluids, "Oh, trust me," he shares the same sour face as yours, shooting a frown. "I'd happily take that chance if you ever decided to get the hell out of my working space, asshole." he pouts for a good measure.
At that statement, your mood is quick to turn as coffee is to sugar. "Hey! It's an obligation to share things with your very struggling friend!" your hand gestures rapidly to the amount of books on the table, to which he only replies with an exasperated whining. "And why not make a use of my friend's very useful hideaway because I cannot focus studying in my own cabin?"
"Didn't my friend just threaten to chase me all through the woods if I don't give her the operating table earlier?" he gasps a dramatic one, like a victorian lady that just found her handmaid is stealing her gowns. Hands clutched on his face, and his brown eyes wide in that manic energy of his.
"That's not a good come—"
"To which she decided to threaten me more after the whole shenanigan and suggest we should take it outside and fight each other to death?" the last word intensifies louder than the previous ones, his tongue clicking in that sing-song disapproval before manifesting in a lyrical song. "No eres tan inteligente como piensas, cariño." and that aggravating, agitating smile of his? That produces the rainstorm over your head as you scoffs.
"Fine," your eyes roll, both in surrender and irritation. But it's not you if you don't match his streak of stubborness. So your arm raises, pen pointing at him while your eyes narrows—like a wizard trying to cast a spell at him. "But you're the one who gave me this chair anyway. So you don't get to play the victim, jerk."
"Oh, wow, look at that!" he raises the same arm as you, though he's pointing at you with a screw instead of a pen. "You just said your first words of common sense! Should we invite Chiron for this? Or oh!" he claps his hand in that ridiculous excitement that's reserved only on bullying you. "Should I ask Pollux to arrange a celebration? Maybe I should make fireworks that blows up in the sky and writes 'The first ever human to learn about common sense!'" a squeal escapes his mouth like over caffeinated squirrel, his eyes gleaming in pure cheer while his lips are tied into that big grin of doom.
With that statement too, the room falls in silence —burning in Leo's mocking grin and your fumed beet red cheeks. Right at that moment, you have the sudden urge to find Frank and strategize a way to embarrass him all out in public. Or find the Stoll Brothers and bribe them to prank the hell out of this jerky latino of a jerk.
"Sorry," you straighten up, still carrying the same defiance as you scoffed and turn in your seat. Back to Niels Bohr's cradle on spiking atom's theories up to your head. "I don't speak 'Asshole Language'." your tongue drips in upfront sassiness before you try to ignore him. Eyes on the prize, you remind yourself as you look over to the Chemistry's research on inorganic chemicals and other tricky topics.
You could feel Leo's gaze burning in to the back of your head, and you felt strange. Why isn't he spouting any sarcastic comments or jabs right now?
The rustle of the fan is more louder than any sentences could be uttered in this moment. You're far too engrossed in your writings anyway, that is until you hear a different kind of shuffle rustling behind you, footsteps that comes closer, and feel his finger poking on your cheek—successfully making a dot of soot on the apple of your face.
Your eyes widen, a stark contrast to Leo's playful grin and wiggling brows, "Oh, that's it—" you takes a sharp inhale of disbelief, head shaking just before you grab a particularly thin book and slam it to across his shoulder. That earned a yelp and stagger from him, backing off from your position before a sulk forms on his lips—hands still rubbing against the sore spot.
"Rude." he narrows his eyes at you. "I wonder how anyone could keep up with your crazy hands—OW, OW! Damn it, okay, okay!" you sigh as you plop back down from pinching his sore spot. The chair creaks under your weight while you place the weapon (book) back to the table.
"You're awfully cranky today." not even five minutes later, your dear best friend just cannot sit his ass tight and not bother you for a moment. In fact, he starts circling you like you're a fine bomb just in the ticking of a minute. He whistles behind you, and you realize that it's the same song you just hummed earlier when you take your eyes off the chemic's books.
"You shouldn't waste all this beauty by getting angry." now, he actually had dragged a chair nearby so he can sit beside you. His face is close to your sided one, his warm breath hitting your left cheekbones as you try with all might to focus on how the hell the Highest Occupied Molecular Orbital operates in a graphic. Fun-fact, the soot on your right cheek hasn't been wiped off yet before he pokes his finger on the crease between your brows, "These wrinkles gonna make you look like my grumpy grandma than my sexy best friend." his tone goes lower, like this is actually a serious phenomenon worth of his tears and grief.
"Right fist or left fist?" you finally force yourself to turn you attention towards. To which he immediately perks up and curls his grin like a cheshire cat.
"What about lips?" Leo throws you a wink, pearly whites flashing with eagerness of your impending annoyance.
"... I'm calling Will." the message is already clear in your head, 'Take this evil guy with messy dark hair and the ugliest grin ever and please give him something strong so he could have a rest for one day.'
"I'm calling grandma." he retorts, already pulling out a hand mimicking a telephone while he puffs his cheeks.
"You don't have one."
"Oh yeah," he blinks in mock surprise. "Right, because she's sitting in front of me right now."
He nudges your shoulder.
You flick him off with your fingers.
The room falls in that silent once more, the kind that you're not sure of what he's gonna say or act—considering his spontaneous personality. The fan hums, and you'd thought he's burning holes into your face before you realize he's rather focused on your work.
That's when you became a hypocrite yourself and peek a gaze at him. Observing how his dark locks falls over his forehead, his brows furrowed in that cute little concentration, and mouth unconsciously pulled into a pout.
"I think I learned this when I ran into a monster at twelve and tried to connect its tail to an electrical whirring."
"Oh, all hail Leo—the only living person in the world who learned the catalyst of organometallic at twelve—surely, the gods must be proud." you can't help but roll your eyes and whine in frustration. It's sad and it's pathetic. But he really should stop burning off the wire when it's already stressed out.
"I'm just joking, princessa," this time, he raises a hand to rub the soot he left on your cheek. "I'm a genius, but I'm not a self centered prick." especially when you know everything about him, he wants to say—but he cannot exactly do that, right?
You sigh, catching his gaze that gleams with a small smile. His assurance are always infectious, and before you could know it—a curl forms its way on your lips. "You're literally the textbook definition of self centered."
"Really?" he narrows his gaze, "Is that what you think of me? After all the bloodshed, the team-ups, and you catching me in my worst state when we're in the middle of a war?"
"Fine," you slump your figure to the chair, particularly his chair. Leaning your head over his shoulder when you shifts a little. "I know you're not like that," a pause, then you pinches his cheek once more. "But you do make it look like that, always."
You could feel the boy respond your touch, an arm flying its way to wrap it around your torso—bringing you closer to his natural warmth. "You know what you need?" he says, and you don't know if he's trying to steer the topic in a different direction or simply just wanting to tell you out of care.
"What do I need, genius?" you murmur, closing your eyes for a brief moment of recollection.
"Sex."
"Don't even bring that up right now." your tongue rolls out the syllables sooner than your mind could rethink it over. Though, you can't say you're not surprised. Sexual matters are basically a topic you guys hunched over at seven in the morning, and without even breaking composure or a stutter. Both of you are freshly nineteen, it's completely normal! It's just that...
He does not need to know that you never had one.
The first time Leo Valdez had ever experienced anything remotely close to having sex is when he's giving a girl a blowjob.
It was strong at night, the drinks were bubbling in the air of the room, and the suspense of excitement is just too big for him to ignore it. He initially came to this bar, just so he could drown out any memories of Calypso's sweet nothings and then her eventual sharp endings. Anything to get his mind off the goddess he just spent a whole tons of work on swearing by the Styx, get her the hell out of that island, and caring the hell out of her.
He understands that maybe she just wants something new, something that isn't broken like all the half finished rocks on her island. She wants something complete, something that can actually work. Something not sparking with uncontrollable chaos and unpredictability. Something grounding.
Leo is far from any of that description.
So yes, he's visiting a bar in New York, ordered a strong fire whiskey with his usual forced flirtation, and got drunk at Air Supply's playlist rolling behind the stereo—while other people are swaying their drinks and cry to the song. Leo would've joined, if he downed three glass of the whiskey in a span a minute for each time he chugged the drink.
But he downed six drinks, so here he is; holding up a single of plush thigh over his shoulder, running his palm over the skin as the girl above him whined in muffled mewls. As you can probably guess, yes—he and the cutie bartender that served him before is currently 101% high right now. Her lower back is against the rim of the sink, hand over her mouth to lessen her noises, and *NSYNC playing on the dance floor outside of the bathroom. The band can be suitable, but not when it's playing This I Promise You while he's literally kneeled on the cold tiles.
The slope of his nose brushes against her puffy clit, but Leo's too drunk and out of his mind to think of the girl's pleasure right now. It's a quick fuck, and he hopes he's doing well for a first timer.
A ring, from Star Wars's main theme rolls out just in time when *NSYNC's title shifts to a song called Gone.
That combined interruption, more specifically on his phone ring crashes over them both like waves of cold water over their very much messy brain. Leo ignores it at first, instead working much harder on her weakening hole as she tugs on his curls—a startled moan out of her mouth.
The phone rings and vibrates once again in his pocket.
"Fuck," he rasps out, pulling away with a lewd slick from both his spit and her fluids. Leo is dazed, and his brain seems to wreck even more when he grabs his phone and holy light stabs his face. He forgot to lower the brightness earlier, he curses. But he blinks for a few moment, scrunching his brows to make a good read for the reminder on the lock screen.
It's you.
"operation ASAP, need ur help right now." 23.03
"hermann kolbe is terrorizing me under my bed, so be a knight and save me from chemistry horrors?" 23.04
... How can Leo say no to that?
He clears his throat, tongue throttling with its own as he staggers his words. "S-Sorry—for breaking the mood." the sharp blade of the whiskey earlier still hits his brain repeatedly. But right now, he's not acting on logic. He's acting on heart, on familiarity, on comfort.
He rises on his feet, not even bothering to slip the phone back to its pocket while he simultaneously grabs his forgotten leather jacket by the next sink and trashes it around his torso. "I have to go. She just told me last second that she needs company or else she'll have nightmares—" he doesn't know why he's rambling to tell her the reason, she's just a stranger to him anyway. But Leo knows basic decency, and she should at least know the why to the what.
Even if it's a lie.
That's a long time ago anyways. And right now, he'd rather think about keeping you steady in his cradle. You would be whacking his head off if he places you in any uncomfortable position and you wake up with a sore on your neck. So his arm tightens around your waist, both of your chairs now practically plastered together by the hip like it was always meant to be one. Luckily, the work that has been buzzing your stress since earlier is finished partially with his help. Chemistry is still in one umbrella with his engineering understanding anyway—so it's not that hard of a feat.
His throat hums a song, it naturally tunes out of his memories with his mother either singing him the melodies or dancing carelessly to one. His other hand holds out your papers of doom—you always called it to be—inspecting the contents of your hypothesis and connecting the lines of each sub-stack and concepts in it. It's clear that you worked pretty hard to make this perfect, at least you try to in your professor's eyes. New Rome University's pretty strict when it comes to this matter.
Leo breaks his attention away from the papers for a split moment, feeling the shift of your body against his when you moved in your impromptu sleep. Seeing your fluttering lashes, your parted lips, and the way your forehead still has that small hint of tension even when you're in a nap cracks that smile out of him.
"What should I do with you?" his thumb reaches out, seeking to soothe that wrinkle on your skin like his touch has some sort of magic. And maybe it does—because the tiny frown immediately vanishes after he brushes it.
Leo decides to place the paper back on the table. Maybe you'll sleep better if he caresses you while you're at it.
"Clingy chica." a chuckle tumbles out as he too relaxes under her touch, if his touch soothes your stress—perhaps your touch heightens his instead.
There's a gleam passing his eyes when he can't help but trace your every feature. It's a rare opportunity, even when you're used to being this close—you'll never let him take a pause and appreciate you. Not just your looks, but you, in general. What you are, simply.
Leo swallows down a hard lump in his throat, feeling that familiar pump of rush that he always tries to deny and forget. A feeling he has when he first met you. The rush of blood running to his cheeks and quickening beat of his heart. A feeling he always tries to dispose by replacing it with attachment to other girls or boys.
He should've had it gone by now. It's been years since that stupid crush on you.
"... What should you do with my heart?" his voice cracks.
He always cracks when it comes to you it seems.
Always cracks when the sun rushes down to embrace the sea, when the sky paints ink of stars, and the moon rises from its hidden cavern. The transition from you sleeping, head on his shoulder and back to his chest—then to crackling flame with boozes of cans scattered on sand is almost too blurry. When Piper had the most horrible timing and suggested a spin the bottle game in your circle. The most terrible timing when the bottle spins to point at you beside the fireplace.
The most perfect timing when Annabeth raises up a dare—and it reads, "Do a lap dance on someone."
He'd expect that from Piper's dreadful matchmaking, or heck—even Percy's too fast tongue since he always likes to watch a new challenge everyday. But not from observant, calm, and scary Annabeth. That's one of his closest friend in the circle! And she just decided to dump an ice cold bucket at him?
Leo's not sure if he more terrified if you'll find another guy to flaunt the dare, or worse—him.
Gods, hopefully him.
Your eyes catches his light brown ones that crackles with the fireplace's spark.
And you actually approach him.
Claps and cheers soars from within the circle—some already set out a tune with their acapella, all melodious with Will's lyre tucking. Leo doesn't even register when you stand in front of him. His heart feels like a mouse getting chased by a fiery, ravenous cat. And he'd find a way to get out of the room.
If you haven't placed your hands on the slope of his shoulders, if you haven't trailed the fingers down his chest above his thin cloth, if you haven't actually lower yourself on his lap—he'd have done it right away.
Your hands traverse upwards, while your hips sways before settling properly on his lap—above his... he doesn't even want to talk about it right now. The acapella of the group is basically a backhanded sound to him right now, because somehow—your sigh is clearer than any sing-song or small drums.
The proximity is addicting to say the least—and he hasn't even chugged down on any beers all of you managed to steal from the Mr. D's stack. The hands of yours flies to the back of his hair, tugging at your roots before you move closer. Chest to chest, lips just a breath away. And he's inclined to wash that gap away...
Until you pull away.
To say you weren't affected would be a lie, a full on bullshit. Even when you force a smile and joke around to your friends, even in the midst of the glaring vulnerability of something more—you lock eyes with him, across from the crowd. He's always been easy to spot.
Or maybe you just notice everything about him?
... Maybe you should take up his advice and find a guy for a quick fuck.
The street buzzes in choirs of klaxon, raging old men, and fast paced pedestrian as you rush through the city lights. Besides the sea of fast moving people, your phone lights up inside the car's far speed room. A message pops up on the lock screen, one that caught the brunette boy beside you.
"Can't wait to see u!" 20.50
That's enough for Leo to bring up the lucky messenger once again. "You really gonna continue a deal with a guy from dating app?" his eyes paints a lighter streak to his brown eyes, almost like the luminance of sunset—even when the night city lights are the only thing hovering above them right now. You'd get lost in them, if both of your lives aren't at stake the moment, you'd take your eyes off the road for a second.
"So what?" an air blows out of your lips, both indicating nonchalance and exasperation. Because he's been acting kind of moody ever since he picked her up. Maybe he was testing some theories and it didn't work out. Maybe he was pranked by the Stoll Brothers before he came with his modified car, nobody knows.
Leo scoffs, "For starters," his back leans onto the chair, his arms crossing as he peeks another glance to your phone when it beeps. "It's just not like you to ask me to lend you my car and drive up to date some guy you barely even know." he runs a hand through his curls, just simply to distract himself from what's really bothering his mind. "Especially if the guy will probably turn out to be a serial killer. You know that happens in thriller flicks." then his mouth stumbles out a sour laughter.
"I already told you." a streak of frown creases between your brows, and you choose to steady your focus on the popping lights on the road ahead instead of him. "And you encouraged me to take the chance, mind you."
"That's before I knew you were gonna meet up with a guy you barely know." he echoes his previous argument, light crackles flick out of his fingertips—to which it didn't pass your attention. "I thought it's gonna be someone we both know, someone from camp, or maybe NRU!" he doesn't say the real reason. He doesn't say that he wishes it was him you're meeting up with.
He really should stop being a hypocrite and decease this hoping once and for all, he knows that. He knows that he's being a complete prick right now. But Leo is as stubborn as the hoard of cars suddenly lining up in front of you.
"Shit." you mutter under your breath, rising up from your slump to view the congestion ahead of you.
"And great," his hands claps to his thighs, a roll from his eyes as he grunts. "Just exactly what we needed in this fucking night."
"No need to swear because of me." you shoots him a look, because—hey! What kind of person doesn't take offense to that?
"No!" the word rolls out of his panicked tongue the same time a car honks in front of you. "I don't—" crackle of weak flames spurts out of his curls, probably reflecting both the annoyance and sour taste sitting in his brain. "Shit, I mean—" his eyes are a tad bit wide, mouth stuttering up staggered syllables before he surrenders completely. Suddenly dropping his back to the car seat, palms rubbing his face. "You know that's not what I meant..."
"You still said it." you murmur.
"Look—" he braces himself to speak up, even behind his guarding hands. To which he beckons a gap between his fingers so he could take a peek at you. You responded just the same, eyes flicking to him while car drags to a full pause. The city lights are shining brighter than ever when cars are piled up in the road. Yet, somehow—it doesn't seem more aggravating than the boy next to you.
"Let's just get this over with." he sighs. "You date whoever you want and I'll date whoever I want." It feels like he's coughing out expired ambrosia, because he doesn't feel like anything his mouth is saying. He'll care for you than he could ever care for himself, he's sure of that.
"Which is exactly what I've been saying since thirty minutes ago!" you cheerfully exclaim, a smile as sharp as a stygian iron pulling up on your lips. The irony is clear on your tongue. "You're the one who gets riled up by my own date for no reason!" your voice drives high pitched.
"And now you're the one who's telling me to mind my own business?" everything about him is infectious; his adorably disgusting smile, his incredibly horrifying laughter, his amazingly terrible sense of humor, even now his perfectly frustrating mood-swing is getting to you too. Everything about him is mixed feelings!
"Right, right," his hands lift up in surrender, the glowing warmth from the upper lamps are echoed in his eyes. "Don't worry, you're not gonna hear any bullshit from me again, princessa." Leo is not the type to lose easily in an argument. But this is you who's his debating enemy right now.
You, we're talking about here. You, who's existence is a voice that echoes in his head over and over again like a god's calling (maybe he should get on his knees). You, you, you, who undoes everything that he is.
"Oh, silent treatment, huh?" your forced smile draws even wider—not out of the blushing joy he always made you in—but out of disbelief at his gnawing attitude. "Real fucking mature, Valdez. Just keep on acting like you don't care and maybe it will actually happen. Go on, pretend like I don't exist."
Leo stays silent with his words, choosing to face the window instead.
Fucking great, you think.
The time counts for eight minutes before the congestion cracks up and cars moves like a bird free from its cage. Though, begrudgingly, your attention is more prolonged on the boy who's definitely not sulking on the passenger seat. In your defense, the way the city lights reflects on his face is distracting you more than you realize. Annoyance stems in your heart, which is a weird thing. Because why would your heart flutter for the second time?
A car honks up behind you. Signaling your frozen car when the others have already moved ahead of you.
"Maláka." you curse under your breath, momentarily imagining a moment where you scold yourself for being so stupid before you gas up the pedal. The car now moves in a speed much different than before. A stark contrast to the slow traffic earlier, now it's gliding under the moonlight.
And you force your mind to think about the mall, the same place where you're supposed to meet up with some unknown man and watch a movie with him. Probably fuck with him later on, that's your whole objective anyway.
Finally, your car enters the main gate of the destination. Wasting no time to search for a parking space when you slide down to the basement.
You beckon the car to a turn, and when an empty box lights up like heaven's pearl, you drive the car to fulfill that spot. Beeps of signal echoes in the car room, you face backward, focusing on whether you parked it correctly or not.
You finally stop.
Leo is still silent.
During this time, if he weren't in such a bad mood—you'd probably seek his advice. Just because you read inappropriate stuffs doesn't mean you're as experienced as someone who probably has done it. You know the first thing to approach a guy, you just don't know the first to actually keep the lust going.
Especially when he's only a stranger.
You're internally screaming in your head.
"Thanks," you force yourself to mutter, reluctantly turning your attention to him. "For letting me borrow your car."
"No problem." he replies simply.
That doesn't sound like him at all. He'll usually ramble up some mouthy wits before actually saying a respond as common as sentences in basic english books.
So you once again, stops just when your hand is at the door handle.
"Leo." you call out.
"Yeah?" he replies, and that unusually low voice out of his throat is tingling something familiar in your heart.
Thousands of confession lies like melting ice above your tongue. Each one worse than before, each one making your heart race in something definitely not because of the adrenaline from the fight earlier.
"... Nothing." the door flaunts open when you said the single contradiction. A sound is made from it, an echo of troubled tension between you as the fire crackles between blue and vivid orange. Your feet plants on the ground—ready to take another step further, yet you hear a voice from behind.
"Have fun with him. You deserve it after the assignment." in your understood translation of Leo's guard melting, this one means, don't let your day get ruined because of me.
Your breath hitches.
And your heart suddenly feels heavy—like something is anchoring you back to him.
You turn back.
"Alright," you burst in the car suddenly. Shooting your hands to block his way and pin him to his own seat. And Leo with his wide eyes doe look definitely did not expect the surprise at all. His jaw drops, mimicking his shock—and he was about to object if it weren't for your fast tongue. "We're not gonna act like we haven't talked about sex positions in a casual movie night at a random Thursday." maybe that's a terrible sentence even for someone like Leo Valdez, but hey! At least the hook catches his interest.
"What the—"
"I never fucked anyone." you could hear an explosion blowing up inside his brain simply through the immediate flame jolting out of his curls. "Never been fucked, and never been fucking. Ever. Not once in my lifetime. Even when my opinion about woman on top is better than your shitty doggy preference." there you said it, every lies you made him believe. It's not that dramatic, but the way his eyes dilates even more made you feel so.
"... Congratulations?" he blinks.
"Really?" you facepalm, your arm going stiff beside his head.
"Oh, no, no, no," Leo immediately cuts you off, and his tone is going hazard as if the explosion quite actually happened in his head. "I mean, I thought you've already done it before with the way you talked!" sure enough, actual flames combusts on top of his curls like they're forming a crown—if it was made by a snobby prince and not a proper blacksmith. Red rush heats up in his cheeks, painting his face in a flustered look that you can't help but acknowledge the butterflies in your stomach.
"But," contrast to his sulking face before, that heat in his curls now shifts to draw a grin from his lips. His eyes darts between your pinning hand and to your gaze, "That means all this time you're actually just an innocent princessa? No experience besides probably playing with yourself?"
"That," you swallow a hard lump, "I haven't done that too." you can't help but notice how a gleam passes in his light oak gaze. How that previously doe eyed shocked eyes are now lidded to one that basically reads as... recognition? Desire? Hope?
"Mierda," his grin shifts to something you'd never expect from him in this abnormally ridiculous situation. It's genuine. Purely joyful realization that coaxes a faint dimple from his cheek you never notice until now. It's barely there yet it's making your heart race. "He estado esperando toda mi vida por esto." he breathes out, shakily.
You tilt your head, confusion written on your face.
Noticing your expression, he quickly composes himself with a clear of his throat. The rosy cheeks still remain, though the wide smile shifts into something unbelievably serious. "... There's something I need to know." he voices out, light honey eyes burning into yours. "And I need you to be honest with me."
His hand glides to your own that rests beside your hip, slowly crawling in his fingers to interlock with yours—until you accept him fully. "Are you okay with me touching you?"
Something in the way his skin boosts warmer when your hand holds his is telling you that he's not simply talking about basic touch.
Gods, you want him to do more than touch.
You nod, any semblance of voice being stuck in your dry throat.
"I need to hear you say it." his hand tightens a brief strength in yours. A scrunch of brows heightening the crackle that hides behind his brown sight. "You know you've got a smart mouth, and I'm not gonna do anything until I hear your decision loud and clear."
You could feel a rush of blood running below your abdomen. And you wonder if the erratic pulse is a rhythm out of your heart or the sensitivity between your legs.
"Yeah," you stumble your voice. "Yeah, yeah," an inhale sucks into your mouth, "A thousand times yes, Leo." the tension is an erratic wire in the air between you, alive and burning.
Fumes of accidental explosions springs out of his curls in warm smoke.
"Santo dios, bebè." he gasps, and you notice how his pupils dilates like he's just seeing the world for the first time. "I'm gonna die. Right here, right now." and a smile conjures up like sugar has been hiding in his lips all the time, slow and in relief. Maybe he's already imagining the prospect of dying under sheer joy because you share the same feelings. "And now, you have the responsibility to bring me back to life too."
A sulk forms on your lips. "Don't be dramatic." you rolls your eyes playfully, your walls melting when his hand drifts from your own and slides down across your skin. He eventually settles on your waist, thumb caressing your partially side abdomen above your shirt.
"So," your gaze slips briefly to his mouth. "What do I do now?"
"You know," his nose scrunches, brows wiggling to hint at something seductive in his tone. "How about," without further ado, Leo sneaks in another to hand your other waist—and with your shudder, he successfully brings you on top of his lap. The car door shuts with a low clap as you seek steadiness by holding onto his shoulders.
"You test me that theory we've been fighting over?" his smile curves wider when he looks up at you.
"The one where you're jealous with my date?"
Leo blows an air out of his lips, a dry chuckle escaping his throat. "Well, that's a small part of it," then his eyes lights up, "But that's not what I'm talking about and you know it!"
"You have a smart mouth," tactfully, a teasing smile appears like you've been waiting to use something against him. "Don't you think you should put it to good use, hm?"
"Oh, gods." Leo cracks, actually cracks when a burst of laughter flings out of his throat. The sound is like honey carved out from its own nest, sweet and adorable. You wonder how he could bring out any sort of emotions out of you, at least back then you contemplate so. But now you know, you're just that into him, the same way he is to you.
"No puedo creer que te tenga a todos para mí." His fangs flashes out when his grins curls wider. The words are more of a murmur for his own erratic heart, each beat still has god's calling that basically spells out your name in his mind. He's creative like that. "I'm talking about you," he winks. "Arguing about positions, and you're really stubborn on liking to be on top." his head tilts a slight.
"Right." your voice cracks, gaze drifting rapidly from his face to the sight of you sitting on top of his thighs. "Well, maybe," your voice shifts lower, almost a whisper. "I need someone to teach me first?"
"You, asking for my advice?" he lifts a single brow, hand dangerously caressing closer to your hip. "Is the world ending any sooner? Is the earth flat? Is the sun blowing up any second?"
"Don't be dramatic!" you scoffs with a much higher pitch, eyes narrowing when all he does is stifle a laugh at your irritation. When you do tighten your hands around his shoulder, and he wince in mock pain—does he clear his throat and bury his laughter deep and deep.
"First," Leo drags his fingertips from the tail of your spine to upwards, slowly—like he's testing the waters to see what will made you crack. "You gotta relax. No need to overthink your pretty head around this thing."
"Second," his hand is now caressing its palm on your upper back, before bringing you closer to him in this intimate position. Until the only thing separating you both is one strand of breath away. His freckles are easier to count in this close angle, and his eyes are like glinting dew of warmth that's mixing up with a want that widens his pupil.
The slope of his nose brushes against yours, and his other hand reaches for yours. Just so he could drag your palm to his shuddering chest, the feel of his rushing heartbeat filling your senses. "All you have to do is sit still and make some pretty noises for me, m'kay?"
You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. "Do you always start it out like this?"
"Always?" Leo blinks, once and twice before a nervous laughter staggers out. "Bebè, I haven't even done this with anyone before."
You frown. "So we're blind leading the blind? And here I thought you'd be more experienced than me."
"I am!" Leo grasps to clutch at the front of his chest—only that it's your hand that's gripping it as he guides you. "It's just..." he clicks tongue, the sound echoing inside the cramped space while he glances sideways. Deciding that the view of the parking space is more intriguing than you on top of his lap. There's a crack in his tone that suggests something more than simply sex. Something painful. "It's a bit complicated, and I don't want make this moment about me."
He lets go of your hand, bracing himself with an inhale before sliding his warm palm to your cheek.
"It's all about you, princessa." his gaze softens, lips parted like he wants to say more, though only a soft inhale is heard from his mouth.
"Then at least," you interrogate, eyes narrowing in search of any hidden meaning in his gesture. "Have you actually tried putting it in yet?"
He pulls a lopsided smile. "Well, I know the first thing to loosen it up, that's for sure." suddenly, his thumb and one finger moves to pinch your cheek. Wiggling it as if he's playing with mochi as your head shakes slightly from his hold.
You grumble, though you make no effort on swatting off his offensive hand. You know it's just a body language response so he could lighten up the mood, hence you let him—just this once. "And if someone sees? The mall's pretty crowded today, who knows we're gonna get interrupted while we're at it."
"You thought I don't put full black frames for the windows?" he raises a brow, though his pinch on your cheek fractions more before he finally gives mercy to you. Choosing to slip his hand behind your nape.
"Now," his breath fans against your mouth, his head pushes off slightly from leaning to the chair—wanting to lean towards you, instead. The scent of him is filling your mind till all you can think about are cinnamons and bitter honeydew aroma. Till all you can think about is him.
Both of your lips brushes against one another.
Leo's eyes fleets to yours, drawn stars swimming in those brown irises as he looks at you in half lidded shape.
You understood the message.
Hence, you surrender to the overwhelming surge of flame, bursting off in tiny sparks inside your veins when you smash his lips to yours. Your teeth clashing against one another which makes your groan against his mouth, Leo takes the hint easily. His hand behind your waist brings you closer to him, practically pressing chest to chest.
Your lips are inexperienced, that's for sure. But enthusiasm burns brighter as you shift on his lap—your hands crawling to slip around his face, then to hold his curls. Just lightly.
Leo gasps.
Both of your salivas are basically swapped to one another's mouth, you're merciless, to say the least. So, Leo, like any other good teacher would do—tugs at your hair instead. Collecting the strands in his palm before he forces it to pull back. Successfully separating your lips in apparent exhales and messy connected line of spit.
"If I didn't know any better," a breathless laughter fills in the space between you, his smile widening to a messy grin as his gaze darts between your eyes and your mouth. "I think you should be the teacher here. Seems like you move a lot for a first timer, hm?"
You were too busy catching your breath to respond at his teasing. The heat is unbearable, or maybe you're just that affected by him. You want nothing more than to wipe that grin and kiss him senseless. Throwing logic off the window and just let him steal every breath you'd inhale or exhale. Just let him steal your lungs.
"... Shut up."
And your lips crashes into his like a tidal released from the deep restrained trenches. If the previous one was more battling and experimenting—this one's definitely the result. His tongue tied into yours, his hand unbearably warm against your lower back, and his nails clawing at your roots when you whine into his mouth.
The effect is immediate. Leo snaps by digging his fangs on your bottom lip, turning your shy exhales to a full on groan when the sharp of your teeth caught on the pout of his lower lip. Tugging hard enough to pull a strangled sound from the depths of his throat that seemed to surprise both of you.
"So good," he breathes away from yours, just to take no second on plunging in once more. His curls brushing against your forehead while his nose nudges into yours, a testament of how close you are in just a span of minute. "You're too fucking good, princessa," then finally, need of air interrupts between the both of you.
"I don't—" you attempt to speak, but your words shifted into a low mewl when his mouth moves to your jawline instead. The position makes you jolt slightly on his lap, to which you notice—something is poking you from down below.
"What? You don't taste good?" Leo rasps out, attention too focused on peppering your neck with kisses it deserves. And when your neck tilts to give him better access, you could practically feel his grin against your fragile skin. "You can't say that when I'm losing mind over you here."
A breathless laugh flows out of you. Feeling Leo's teeth nibbling your skin, to the point you could imagine light hickeys on your neck is making your head spin. And you wonder, why haven't you done this since ages ago? "You're babbling again, Leo."
"Of course I am," he bites on a specific skin pulsing against his lips, then darting out his tongue to soothe the ache. "Why should I shut up when I could use my mouth," he inhales, dragging his tongue along the slope of your throat. "To make you wet," he makes a point by grinding his hips against yours. "And tell you how pretty you look doing this to me?"
"Oh, now you blame me?" you huff, chest heaving up and down as your eyes are lidded shut—just to relish in his touch fully. You're not even doing anything to him! If anything, he's the one doing things to you.
"Yeah, you." along with his tongue, his teeth is no less ferocious. He moves to your collarbone now; nipping, suckling, and licking at every hickey he carved onto you. His breath is a hot exhale when he speaks, "You're the one fucking me up, that's for sure."
You sigh.
Leo chuckles, voice somehow shifting lower than it should be. "See? That," his hand slides from your waist to your abdomen, fondling against the hem of your top, seeking your body beyond the fabric. "That one sound is already making me hard, bebè."
"I know that since five minutes ago," because yeah, that prominent bulge is hard to dismiss when it's brushing against your heat with every movement in this cramped space. "It's kind of hard to ignore." and you melt into his warmth when his calloused palm slips in your shirt, grazing against your bare skin.
"Kind of?" his laugh is a sweet smoke against your flustered skin, which's beaming in red from every heat he spread onto you. You find that only his affection is infectious, but his naturally warm body is too. "You think it's not hard enough for you?" he finally pulls away from your close cradle, just to take the chance to shoot that aggravating grin of his when he squeezes the underside of your breast.
You can only groan in disbelief.
He has the audacity to spout that sassy words and twisting your mouth while dangerously going to the touch the one spot you never thought anyone would touch? Bastard. Yet he only kisses your anger away when his lips molds into yours, his thumb brushing against your bra's surface before he murmurs. "Take it off."
You pull away and look at him like he just asked a thousand drachmae's from you.
"I mean," he clears his throat, hands freezing under your shirt. "If you want to, of course. We could do it with clothes on. You know, there's this preference—" and he goes on and on with his tongue.
It's no use to fight him with words, you know that since he started rambling about quantum mechanics when you first entered his bunker. Not that you minded it, though.
So you reach for the hem of your top, and pulls it upwards with your arms crossed. And you definitely noticed how his words fades to a pathetic stumble as his jaw dramatically drops. Which goes the same for your shirt, which is now lying on the empty driver seat.
The cold air is a sensitive pleasure against your warm skin.
A flame sparks up in Leo's hair.
"Holy shit—" your mouth falls.
"Okay, OKAY!" Leo's hands frantically throws upwards, desperate to usher off the smoke and combusting fire stirring up a flambé on his head. His face is the same color as the element too, red and panicked. He can't believe he just spiraled in front of you, when you're looking all perfect and he's a complete disaster! "First of all, all of this is just—" a new of burst flame tickles off. "You never saw this! And I never acted like a total loser when you expect me to be all suave and flirty and attractive," pause, "Which I am, but—!"
A finger presses onto his lips, effectively shutting him up with a shush out of you. He notices, that laughter that seems to bloom armies of peonies, flowing in the space between them with such eagerness and joy. "C'mon, teach," you wiggle your brows, lips pulled wide as a series of giggle still flies out naturally. "Are you gonna touch me already or do I have to make the move?"
"No need." it's almost comedic worthy—how fast he immediately composes himself with that serious look when sparks of fire still jumps from his curls. He adjustes his collar as if tidying an imaginary tie, light honey eyes darkening with the invitation of your half bared form. "That was just a moment of weakness."
"I like your weakness when it involves me." your arms circles around his neck now, fingers playing with his curls.
"That means you like all of me, then," his mouth trails from your collarbone to the pad of your bra. Huffing a heavy inhale to the scent of you driving him insane. "I'm always weak," his mouth closes around the fabric—which surprises you a little bit considering he hasn't even took it off yet. The slope of his grazes your skin as he juts his tongue and circle it around the small area of the pad. The area where your nipple should be behind it. "And you're always on my mind."
He bites on the fabric, tugging your bud of nerves through it.
Your head jolts back, back arching a slight while you tug at his curls tighter. It feels dizzying, yet your mind has never been any clearer. His tongue and lips are like sweet nothings carved into your skin. Making you sigh and mewl.
It takes approximately fifteen seconds before he finishes making out with your bra (long story short). Not to mention how his other palm squeezes against your perky flesh, the heat spiking up further in your veins. There's a damp of saliva on the surface when he pulls away, eyes slowly dragging to peek at you from his lashes, pupils nearly swallowing his brown irises.
The sight makes you swallow.
His hand glides, tracing the waistline of your bra before plucking off the strap, with such ease too. The fabric loosens slightly, and Leo halts—eyes burning into yours like he's still asking for your permission, after all that suspense.
Words has never been good between the two of you, so you take things into your own matters—you tug the fabric past your arms, before throwing it to the next seat.
Leo throws himself in the crook of your neck.
"Oh gods, mierda, oh my fucking gods," he whines, full of embarrassment and shameful need—which is ironic because the word shame and Leo Valdez is like two things on the opposite. His hands don't ever dare to go anywhere near your skin, and you notice how they tremble in the air. "I'm actually going to die, this is elysium, yeah, I don't deserve this—"
"Leo," you pull him out of his hiding place, cupping his cheeks on your palm as you force him to meet your gaze head on. "I want you to touch me," his breath hitches, "I want you to fuck me," you could feel immense uprise of temperature blowing like a steam out of his skin, "Is that so hard to believe?" and your thumb caresses against his cheek gently, prompting his eyes to flutter close.
"But I don't want to fuck you," his head shakes under your hold, eyes still closed for a brief second before he blinds them open, "I want to love you," he wants reassurance, because as much as he is spontaneous and careless—he's weak for you, just a boy wanting to be loved without being left behind. "Is that so hard to believe?"
His eyes gleams in what closely resembles the sun dimmed down, vulnerable and desperate. And when he nuzzles against your palm? That's when you melt in the spot. Even more so when he lands a kiss on the center.
You shift much closer, pressing your bare chest against his thin shirt—the sensation is a tickling arousal to your brain. But you want to focus on him fully for a second, and you flies a small kiss on the corner of his eye—the intimate moment feels heartwarming in their shared desire, "Then," you mutter, "Teach me how love's supposed to feel like."
A shudder crawls toward Leo's spine.
In a span of seconds, his head dunks down. His hand finally gathers the courage to collect the back of your hair in his palm, slowly guiding it upwards as his moth drifts low. Lower than before. Low enough to catch one of your mound right into his mouth. You gasp, arching your spine before he gives a light suck on the nipple.
"O-Oh, gods," you mewl out of breath, closing your arms against his neck with a lot more force when he eagerly sucks on that bundle that makes you whine under his touch. You knew with the way he's biting your neck that his would be relentless, but your chest is more sensitive with his natural heat, and you could feel it harden as he licks and circles his tongue around it.
"Leo, that feels so..." you couldn't finish your words. Not when he latches off your breast only to go on another round to your other one. Eager with mouth with its nipple hard—you don't even know how it went like that. All you know is how good his mouth feels and the erratic thump of your heat is spreading hot rush to your cheeks. You want more, easily more. Hence your hips whine against him, grinding just on top of his bulge to feel anything of relief to your ache.
"Keep doing that," he groans against your perked up mound, making your skin feel hot all over with his heavy breaths. This time, a hand surges upwards to fondle with your untended one as he continues to suck, kiss, and bite at your sensitive hard nub. While the finger does just the same to your sloppy one, flicking it then pinching it playfully, "Mierda, ngh—hahh, yeah, bebè, that feels so good, doesn't it?"
"L-Leo," your head throws back, lips falling apart when another gasp echoes right out of them. You can't stop saying his name, it's like every bite he does onto you is seducing out that sound of your chest. Rasp and full of need. It's no surprise that you responded with another roll of your hips, making him suckle a bit rougher on your aching bud.
"Can't get enough of this," he breathes out, ravishing your breast like someone starved off any drink or food for days. "A-Ah, that's right," it's hard to think of anything concrete even when he's supposed to be teacher in this moment, he just can't keep control, especially when it comes to you, "Just like that, you're moving your hips so good—" and a small whimper is ripped out of him the moment your shift and grind against him.
"Oh, f-fuck—!" you feel it pulsing and crying below when he bites onto the hard nub outrightly, leaving draws of hickeys all over your skin not like a claim—but a mold of your body together. How much you trust each other to the point of doing this. It becomes more proven as your spine arches and your body automatically jolts at this point. Seeking friction to soothe the cry that your pussy wails down below. It hurts, and you need him to do more—to burn you more.
That is when you realize, you feel his tent becoming more wet and embarrassing, more so than before.
And the snap of his head to the chair's rest, his mouth falling open, sweat gathering in forehead while he curses in a series of spanish syllables is driving your body to grind against him harder. To the point of your wet pussy folds imprinting against your useless panties, to the point you could feel every heat and rough presses of his bulge against your clit.
"Haaah—!" you're not sure if that loud moan toppled off the car came out of his throat or yours, but nothing seems to matter except the ecstasy you imprinted on each other. How he came in absolute ease, and how you succumb to his warmth like you need him all the time. The wet tent below you feels painful even to you, and you don't even register you own actions when you hand slides into the hem of his shirt.
"Oh, quieres que me quite la ropa? Oh, está bien, joder, está bien—" you know he's practically running off his mouth with boundless and mindless babbles that you could never comprehend in the rising heat between you. Both of you doesn't waste your time on getting him out of his top, which is a red sweater that you definitely didn't notice it peeking out his happy trail when he arches his back to the chair... nope, definitely not!
Now, all that meets your heady gaze is the span of his bare torso. All dribbled in sweat that you shamelessly begin to be turned on by it, tan skin graced with light muscles dripped down to his abdomen, and a faint brush of brunette tricks spreading out from his pants. The sight making you hump against his wet tent just to hear him whimper once more.
Only then does Leo comprehends the very possibility that you might not like his body. "Mira, sé que parece—" and only then too he realizes that his tongue is still working on full spanish mode. "Shit, I'm sorry," he babbles on, eyes blown wide and cheeks inflammable red. "I know I don't look that good or strong or hot or—"
"What d'you mean?" you reach a hand to pinch at his biceps, which tenses and got a lot more prominent under your touch. "You look just fine to me, pretty boy." and Leo mewls at that nickname, body shifting against yours in search of pleasure.
"You are insane." he breathes shakily, hips jolting up against yours in weak humps, considering he just released after the first one. "You are evil and you're going to kill me in this car and the police is gonna find my body and I'll end up in a true crime podcast by some stranger who doesn't even know that I died because of this insanely hot and beautiful angel!"
Told you he babbles.
"But seriously," you near your mouth to his ear, using the knowledge of every platonic sex talks you guys both had in previous times. You know that his ears are sensitive, and you used that to your advantage.
"You look as good as I am naked." your teeth nibbles on his earlobe, looting out a trembling sigh out of him. "And besides, it's not fair if I'm the only one bare, that feels spiritually misogynistic." and you babble on too.
"Right," he nods almost eagerly, head bobbing up and down before he swallows a lump through his adam's apple. "Right, but—"
"No buts," you teasingly nudge a light bite on the side of his neck, like a small ant's carve. But maybe he feels a big one instead, because he trashes under your body—one hand fisting your hair to a tight grip while the other holds your waist even stronger.
"Fuck, that's what I'm talking about." he tilts his head as his eyes closes for a brief moment. Letting you litter his body in sweet and sloppy kisses that he never knew he could have it ever in his life. You feel like a miracle to him, an angel sent to torment him specifically as his hips suddenly raises when you digs your fangs into his shoulder.
"I'm just copying what you did to me." because even with your bravery, you're still picking up on his cues on how to do this whole sex thing, it's a bit confusing, but as long as you followed him, it'll be okay, right?
Another mewl falls from his parted lips. "Bring it down," he breathes in harsh staggers, swiftly grabbing your hand and trace it along the slope of his chest, then to his faint abs, then to rest at the surface of his wet pants. "Touch me there, pretty."
And you do follow his words, just with a twist of your own tease. Your tongue glides on the sweat glistening his chest like drops of paint all over his body. Leo shudders, bringing his arm to hover above his fluttering eyes as he arches more and more to the seat. Littered kisses, soft sighs, and quiet praises flows out of your mouth like waterfall, and you're not sure if you're cooling down his heated body or intensifying it.
"That's it," his words are a trembling inhale when you nuzzle your face against the hot linens of his abs, though that's not what earned a yelp from him next. Your arms extends to reach your hand for the seat adjuster, suddenly springing the chair to drop backwards to beckon him for a lying position.
"Ah, oh, you want me to—" Leo blinks out of his daze, seeing how you begin to lower yourself on his lap, "Shit, uhh, you sure you can take it?"
You peer at him briefly, "You think I can't handle it?"
"Not that!" his hands wave uselessly, a frantic look on his face before he rises with the help of his elbows, "You sure you're not gonna..." he coughs, "Look at me weird after you see it or something? I mean, I don't want to gross you—"
"Are you like big down there or something?" you take the opportunity to ghostly brush your tongue against the peeking trails above his pants.
"M-Mierda—" he arches his spine, a breathless gasp breaking out of him, "You are a terrible student. Really, I should give you a hard D or maybe throw you out or maybe—" his ramblings are cut off when your mouth closes on his belt's strap. Suddenly all that echoes in his brain is how cute you look kneeled down like this, your tongue uselessly flinging at the iron handles before your hand lifts to open it instead.
And suddenly, his belt is tugged off by your own mouth, like you were too impatient for him. It clangs against the car's door, while you drag down his zipper line by your teeth.
"Hold on," since you're a newcomer at this, he should be a good teacher, after all. So with a gulp down his adam's apple, he drags his pants to his knee, and slowly pulls down his underwear.
You're astonished, to say the least.
It's true, he is big. If you do the math, he's approximately 6 inches, or more so. It's slight curved and has that blushing warmth coupling in his bulbous tip that you could already imagine it hitting the back of your throat—
"Do you like it?" Leo asks much quieter, like an exhale mixed with a whisper. His eyes are keen on your face, taking note of every reaction written on it. He feels hot and bothered, but he still wants to know if you're as eager as him.
You are.
"Well, now I know," you brush your palm to the underside of his cock, and you could feel the girthy veins around it tense to your brief touch. "Where all that height went to." your tongue juts out to lick at your upper lip, a grin pulling on your face.
"Excuse me?" he attempts to argue, but his spine stiffens against the seat, a loud whimper breaking out of him, "Did you just—" fire crackles on his fingertips, his voice tuning high pitched while he tries with his whole strength not to buck against your hand. "Did you just call me short while—" another whine interrupt his words, just when you brush your palm deliberately along his shaft.
"Mhm," you nod, eyelashes flicking up to him, "Got a problem with that?"
Leo catches on that look on your face, and he swear—he could come just by staring at that eyes of yours.
"Yeah, I got a problem with that," he gathers his previous composure, sliding his hand to your hair, "I got a problem when you're not using that smart mouth for something useful," there it is, that familiar cocky Leo Valdez that always bullies you for any inconvenience you made.
"Come on," he licks his lips, voice shifting lower, "I'll guide you, pretty girl."
With the fingers collecting your locks in his palm, Leo slowly pushes you forward—a muffled whimper tumbling out when you leave a kiss on his aching tip. Then, still with your hands under his shaft, you start to widen your mouth and take him partly in. It's a bit hard to adapt to his girth, but you managed, with each reassuring coos he whispered to you.
"That's it," he huffs, "That's a good start," he couldn't take his attention off of yours. With your eyes fluttered shut, mouth partly full of his cock, and hair collected up in his hand. And when you grazes your tongue along the veins, he melts like a poodle.
"A-Ah, told you you've got a smart mouth—" it's addicting, to hear his sweet nothings when you explore his shaft like a popsicle. His slick liquids are coating the surface, and you suckle on every leftovers of release you could taste on him. It's sour, but it doesn't bother you much. Instead, you double down. Gliding your hands to his tight balls before squeezing them.
"Mmm—haah—!" instead of buckling against your mouth, he arches his back against the seat. Head thrown to the back while his mouth continues to sputter more heated whimpers.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that, bebè," his tug on your hair strengthens a slight, just so he could push you down on his cock fully. Just so he could hear you gag and whine below him, his pre-cum mixed with your drool dripping down your chin. "Atta girl." he murmurs in low bass, and suddenly—you feel his fat tip slamming against the roof of your mouth when your eyes widen.
Repeatedly, his tip snugs between the tightness of your throat, hard enough for him to feel every swallow you took— it's almost surreal, no one could explain the emotions he was going through as he lolls his head back, jaw parted, mewling your name as you glide your fingernails along his thighs, playing with him, stroking his length and suckling tight.
"You're—ah—too good at this, you know that right?" his words are a string of blurred rambles and deep whimpers. The sight of your head bobbing up and down till you take him all in, and at this point, he fully lost all control of his power. Flame crackles in the air, and he didn't know some of his high temperature also flows down to the blood gathering in his cock before you muffle and gag against him.
"Mhmm," you could feel your tears brimming in your lashes when he suddenly tastes too hot around your tongue. Yet you don't waste your effort, instead you suck him off violently now, twisting your tongue over the twitching veins as he cries and moan, the flesh of him is searing against your tastebud, but you swallow every hot cum he spurts out. Every buck of his hips against yours like he too had surrendered fully to the lust.
"Shit, I'm gonna, I'm gonna—" he gasps a loud one, right before bitting his lip harshly to stifle a cry down. He knows he's probably burning up your mouth now, but he just can't seem to control it. Not when you're so pliant and accepting of him. Not when he slaps the back of your throat and your eyes rolls back because of it. He's sure you're seeing stars right now.
"Dios, I'm gonna come—" he staggers in his breath. But you don't stop, if anything—you swallow him much deeper and faster. Being the one responsible for the cries escaping his mouth and the rising temperature in the cramped room. Your tongue swirls and your mouth sucks, and he's on the edge already.
"F-Fuck, a-ah—!" that over rush of pleasure happens when you redirect your hands to squeeze at his runny and tight balls—the effect is as you expected, maybe even better. Harsh and hot sprays of cum shoots into your throat, milking down your tongue. And you release your mouth with a wet slop! echoing in the room, saliva and thick whites glistening your lips. You thought it'd be over by now.
Well, maybe a giving a small peck at his tip is a fault. Because suddenly, sprays of warm whites shoots into your face. Directly. Painting some parts of your cheeks and your lashes before you blink in surprise.
Huh?
"Shit—lo siento, lo siento, dioses, estoy muerto," and Leo seems to realize that too with his babbling mouthful curses. Suddenly, he springs up from his laid position, leaning down to catch your messy face in his hands. "I'm sorry—" he wipes some of the dripping pleasure on your lashes, a frantic look adorning his face with that blushing cheeks and wide eyes. "A-Are you okay?"
Did he just came so hard that he literally painted your face with cum?
"Cariño, I swear, you can be mad at me—" all words are burned to ashes the moment you smash your lips in a mindless kiss. More like eating each other's faces as you surge your tongue deep in his cavern, ripping out a startled moan out of his pouting lips. The drops of cum on your face rubs partly on his nose, and the view is just a hot mess of pleasure.
"Ngh—mhm," his mouth falls and closes with every flick of your tongue, he could taste his own pleasure—and the sensation is like a mindfuck all over his concentration. Leo brings you upwards, tightening his hold on your cheeks while you mewled against his mouth. Your knees feel sore, not used to being on the ground for ten? Fifteen minutes straight? You don't know.
All you know is how good his groan vibrates into you when you palm his painfully tight cock once more. Rubbing it up and down as you slather his liquids all over his flesh, some on his thighs, some on his abdomen, it's just a mess at this point.
Leo bucks into you, "Mierda, ni siquiera sabía que podías ser así..." he inhales your exhale, taking your breath away before he bites on your bottom lip and twist your tongue too easily.
Your hand handles him with erratic speed now, eager to bring another release of pleasure. Another break of his walls. And when you finally sit fully on top of his lap, you can't help but direct the tip to your weak folds transparent to your damp panties. Even when your skirt is not that short, you must be so driven by your desire to start humping against his bare cock.
"O-Oh, gods, oh mamî—" Leo's cries are high pitched when you swallow the rasping gasps whole. His nails are digging a slight into your hair when he moves them, guiding your head to the side while he leans forward to steal more of each moans ridden out of you. You could feel the strain between his brows, his curls ticklish against your forehead before he pushes you to the seat's board. It's a faint slam, but nonetheless startles you while Leo continues to shorten every chance of breath you could have.
In retolt, your palm squeezes around his shaft—a rough and tight one, enough for him to dig his fangs into your bottom lip till you're sure it probably bled a hint of ache. Another spark of cum escapes his veins, ruining the skin of your chest with hot slicks spread like the ones on both of your faces. It's a real fucking mess, and you don't think anything could be better than this.
Leo pulls away with a tug on your bottom lip, which are now sore and red from his ravish. You couldn't even inhale when the air is too hot around you, your head swimming in flames while you feel like every touch of him is searing a mark into you. Sure, your eyes are still closed when he already opened his, and for a second, no exhale flowed out of you.
Leo's pupils dilates, because yeah—even he can lost his breath after that intense make out. His eyes tracked over your chest heaving up and down, and to his spots of release slicked on the surface of your beautiful and perfect skin. He just loves everything about you. So with a dart of his tongue, Leo leans in. Suckling on the traces of his pleasure on you, licking every mark clean with occasional nibbles on it. Making you arch and trash around under his cradle.
"A-Aaahn—!"
"Mhm, you're lucky I made the car soundproof." he groans a muffled one. Mouth far too focused on ravishing and drawing hickeys to your chest. While your back is against the board, Leo makes sure to keep your lower one upright, occasionally tracing small circles against your hip as if it could soothe you from moaning out loud.
"Leo, I wanna—" you know what should happens next, and you want it so badly for him to focus on your lower ache too. "Please—I wanna..."
"I don't hear her begging yet." Leo murmurs, eyes glazing upwards to yours in swirls of darkness engulfing his irises. It feels like he's consuming you, body and soul.
"Her?" you blink, tears from before dimming your eyes to glassy ones.
"Her." in span of fire eating up oak, Leo's fingers found your sensitive wetness underneath your skirt. Pressing to your squelching folds in spite of your undies, in fact, he relishes on that. Playing with your cute clit like he's fixing something in those automatons he has. Everything feels ten times more sensitive, especially with the warmth on his hand being borderline on injecting a flame.
"S-Shit, oh—" you blinds your eyes shut, drop of tears trailing down your cheeks. "Not there—ngh-aaah!" his middle finger teases your cavern, nudging it against your excited hole through the transparent fabric. Even with him not fully in you, it sucks him the moment he got too close and threatens to plunge his finger right there. With your sweet panties on.
He lost his mind, you see.
Leo clicks his tongue, lifting his head so he can tip his words right to your ear. "All I hear," he pinches the clit till your head throws against the board backward, seeing stars in your peripheral. "Is 'Leo, yeah, right there,'" his tone is deep, not because it's low bass or anything. But deep in a way that is full hoarse and invokes lust all through your veins, stemming in your heart with burning roots. "'Fuck me right there.'" he bites gently on your earlobe, and you feel it electrifies your body the same way he rubs his finger pad along your wanton slit.
"I think that's what she's telling me." his fangs are peeked out when he grins against you, it's a whole contrast. You, crying and moaning—while he's being all cocky and domineering. He has that complications, acting all nervous then suddenly bullying you through every shameless pleasure you're having.
"Please," you buckle against his searing hand, your slick coating his calloused digits in a way that makes you want rip your panties already.
"Leo, right there." your lashes flutters to focus on him, thousands of words stuck in your throat, and you hoped he could read them through your tears. "Fuck me right there, Leo."
... Crap.
Your body leaps forward, and you yelp and fall immediately—if it weren't for him handling you to sit properly on his lap. Leo is laid on the chair again, dark curls showered in sweat against the seat's head. Yet, all he focuses is on the harsh slide of your clad pussy against his bare cock, the shaft running along the slit as he suckles a fang on his bottom lip. Trying to resist and keep things in control.
He opens a drawer nearby, just at the center of the car's board before hoarding through it. You raised an eyebrow at his action, wondering why he's plunging his hand into the drawer instead of inside you.
Oops...?
It became clear to you once a small packet of protection is caught between his fingers. Swiftly, he tore the package's end with his teeth, right before pulling out the clad stretch and he catches it on his hand. The gesture is almost hypnotizing, you're very much aware of how wet you're suddenly becoming with your liquid now dripping on his lap.
"Last chance to back out." he says, but he knows you won't. Not with your impatient pussy beating its pulse against his abdomen, and your eyes glassy with desire and arousal. Still, he wants one last consent from you.
You open your mouth, attempting to string a response. Instead all that comes out are staggering breaths and muffled cries. So when your throat is locked, you move with your hand. Which is now resting against his shoulder. Slowly, like that one time he taught you, your finger taps against him.
"Yes." a morse code.
Leo sighs a long one.
"Tell me if it's too much." he mutters, eyes desperate and gentle when he tangles in yours. "Or," he smiles, surprisingly less cocky and more genuine, "If it's not enough."
Gently, so careful, he lifts you up by the hips. Pulling your panties down and guiding you upwards a slight to position you while you hold onto his shoulders. The tip creams out come slicks that falls underneath the condom's stretch. "Breathe with me, m'kay?" his voice is so soft, and you follow. Inhaling the same moment as he does when you feel the bulbous head sears in your folds. "Take it in."
Ticklish sting signals your entire body to a fight or flight mode. But you stay and bite your lip, focusing on his words to take it easy. To take him easy. "And out." he exhales, dragging you downwards through the flesh in slow motion. You need time to adapt and get used to all of this. Though it's proven difficult when pain mixes in with pleasure in your lungs.
"Hey, hey, focus on me." he assures, drawing small circles of comfort to your hips that crackles some seconds. It's not that hot arousing one you feel him mark onto you earlier, this one is plain warm—like the fireplace in cold winter.
"Let's go through this again, okay, cariño?" his words feels like a kiss to your sting, and you nod, your gaze speaking a secret language only he could understand.
"Alright," he mumbles, "In," you take a deep inhale, blinding your eyes shut just so you can focus on him and not the mix of emotions indescribable to your heat. It's only halfway now, you know by how his girth became more obvious against your clad walls.
"And out," finally, you're sat fully on top of him with his cock warming up and snuggling in your pussy muscles. It's breathtaking, but so fucking relieving. Like all the problems steamed off your back and flies to whatever hell it should be.
"See?" he coos, "It doesn't hurt at all, right?" you shake your head, and he lifts his head just to peck a fleeting kiss to your outer wrist.
Then he rolls his hips—just enough to make you gasp again—but keep it shallow and teasing.
"I’ll go as slow as you need," he whispers, "Or… we can stop."
"But if we keep going? I’m gonna love you so deep you forget your own name." He kisses once again at your wrist. "Promise."
You take opportunity at his moment to relax your muscles, to blink your eyes open and simply appreciate how wrecked he looks right now. You know you're no better though. Still, it gives you a heartwarming assurance, that all of this is mutual. That the love is mutual.
He knows you're strong—goddamn fierce, actually—but right now? You're allowed to be slow. Allowed to be soft. Allowed to need.
And if you needs him quiet? He’ll stay silent.
If you needs words? He’s got a thousand lined up just for moments like this. But mostly? He just wants you present. With him. Not running off in that pretty head of yours.
Just here.
With his name on your lips and his body part of yours for the first time ever.
"Can I," you mutter. "Can I move? I'm not gonna go too fast though, I'm... still getting used to this." a small laugh escapes you.
"Whatever you want, princessa." he smiles, faint dimples forming on his apple cheeks.
With the knowledge of a regular erotic reader and a complete virgin, you shift with his cock inside you a bit terribly. But it's not you if you don't learn quickly along the way. Slowly, you get the hang of it.
"Like that, exactly like that, bebè," he guides you too by helping you circle your hips and lines them up and down vertically. "Gods, you can jump on it and kill me and I still would think you can do no wrong." he nuzzles against your palm that has moved to caress his cheek, right before placing a small kiss on your hand.
Then he opens one eye just to wink at you, "Best way to go."
"Really?" it's not you if you dismiss a challenge as tempting as that one. So with a streak of tease curving your lips upwards, you grip your shoulder a lot stronger and let your hips do the talking.
You push a long smooth forward, falling a gasp when you feel him carve his nails on your hips as you grind against him. Testing the waters by taking notes of every strangled whimpers and groans breaking out of him. And you feel a bloom of satisfaction when he throws his head back.
"Holy fuck—" he curses out, trying his damn hardest not to dig at your hips and bounce you up and down his fat cock like he wanted to. Your body's whine is like a waterfall of elixir blessed to cure all his broken parts, yet his words are half sin when he darts out a tongue to gleam his grin, "This soon, bebè? Are you trying to prove me wrong or her wrong?"
At the exact moment, a squeal of pure filth rasps from the needy lips between your thighs. And with every attempted bounce you ride on him, an electric surge of lewdness strikes a slam to your clawing walls. Like your pussy is trying to suck the life out of him and lock him inside forever, like your bodies feel natural to be one.
Leaks of pre-cum trickles from your pussy lips, basking his brunette trails in covers of it. Even more so when your clit and slight traces of yours grinds against the travels. You curse out, your head tilting backwards as your eyes flutters meekly. "Aahn—ngh—Leo—"
"Come on," seeing your ass echo up and down with every slam is doing something to him, something crackling and dangerous. While he lets you take control of the cardio, Leo's hands are restless. It glides like a man starved to your breasts, pinching your nipples just to mock at the weary moan you induced. Then down so quickly to your puckering lips, slipping half his digits inside and collect your clit teasingly. It swells and tears up, turning red with the blood gathering in it making you weak and stumble above him.
"L-Leo—!"
"Mmnh, say my name again." he has the audacity to crack a laugh under you, the sound a melodious torture whispering naughts and searing flames to your skin. He takes his thumb and his finger to ripe apart your swollen folds, licking his lip at every spurt of slick crying out of them as his gaze is transfixed to it. It's addicting, even better than any projects or engines he worked on 24/7. Maybe he should replace you as his specialty now.
"Leo, gods—!" a muffled groan tumbles out of you, and you feel your inner muscles gathering up blood in them. Making you weak and pliant above him.
"Y-Yeah, gorgeous, fuck—you're squeezing me so hard," he rasps a long moan, his voice raw and broken as your walls clamp down around him—tight, hot, perfect.
He freezes for a second—fingers clenching the side of your hips—because if he doesn’t, he’s going to come right then and there. And no way in hell is that happening. Not when you're just starting to unravel.
So he counts backward from ten in Spanish. (Diez... nueve... ocho…)
And when he can trusts himself again?
He moves.
Slow at first—a long, deep glide that makes you sob into the heated air—but then faster. Not rough, never rough with you, but sure. Confident. Like every stroke is a promise: 'I'm here. You're safe. I’ve got you.'
"My princessa," his hand slides from your tearful clit to press onto the bulge evident against your abdomen. And the squeeze of your walls becomes tighter when he nudges a palm against your pubic bone.
You cry out his name in a loud whimper. Not only for the intense crash of his cock imprinted to your cervix, but also for the sudden faint but startling burn you felt when he presses a palm onto you.
"My perfect girl, my everything, my goddess—fuck," his head throws back, thrusting up too abruptly as his bulbous cock hit the sticky muscles surrounding your cervix, the tip bulging hot when he buckles up a sharp slam. "I'm gonna make you feel so good—I'm gonna—s-shit, ngh—o-oh—!"
"Leo, Leo, Leo..." you mumble out series of gullible wordings on his name, head far too blown out to think of anything clearly. Your nails etches in his shoulder blades, making him arch under you before you lift a bounce on him, "I don't think I can—" you feel a surge of stars clouding your sight, blurry in tears of your mixed pain and pleasure.
"I know, bebè, I know," he shudders, obvious warmth forming into hue of flames on his curls. His calloused fingers keeps your body to not fall on him, bobbing your hips up and down to his hard cock, "But you can take it, just a bit longer."
"N-No," you stagger a breath, sniffling a cry brimming in your nose, "That's not—f-fuck—!" and that repeated slam of his cock is starting to burn your throat, the echo of skin to skin slapping is becoming a hazy sound in your ears. Yet, you're still able to comprehend one thing.
"Leo," you managed to say, although hoarse with his heat flowing inside you to the brim. "I think the condom broke."
"Oh." he blinks a thousand times.
"Oh." his eyes widens.
"Mierda," he rubs his hands on his face, as if he could wipe the embarrassment off, "Leo Valdez, eres un pervertido estúpido y vergonzoso." he curses under his low breath, hips surrendering to the seat. His cock warming halts inside you, unsure to succumb for release or pull out safely.
"You have another one, right?"
Leo smiles nervously.
You pick up your weight with his hands helping you lift, and the view below you is nothing short of a crumbling mess, one that arouses you even more if that's possible. The protection sure is leaking, burnt off on the top, and the tip stutters out heated slicks that shoots weakly.
So he broke it by setting the condom on fire?
Huh...
"I'll take over this time." you flick off the useless stretch of fabric, throwing it somewhere you wouldn't care where it dangles.
"Oh, dios," his breath runs shakily, eyes dilating even more when you settle above his red and bulging cock, repressed with straight up hotness in the tip. Then, with your slow movement that seems to irk him, he huffs a stagger when you sink down on him. Your nails clawing in deeper in his shoulders, and your moan bellowing deeper while you arches.
The thought of you taking him raw is already a heart arrest to his dreams, and now it's actually happening?
He can just come right on the spot immediately.
"You—aah—are so unserious." your eyes flaps close for a brief second, soaking in the warmth he infects you by filling your entire walls—you're sure it moves differently now that this is the second time. More easy to slither in since your muscles probably shapes the way his cock does. "How many chances are there in the world for a condom to get burnt?"
"Not many, for sure." he knows you're probably a bit pissed off at him currently. So he attempts to goad you by his usual charming smile, pearly whites peeking through his cheer. "But, there's also minimal chances in the world to get fucked by my best friend."
At that, you stutter in your pace—though you're quick enough to hide it by rolling your hips then jolting above him. Making him wither and whine under you.
"Leo," you call out, voice glinting low while you track the sweat and occasional sparks of pyro jumping from his skin. The linen of his abs are burning and prominent, in a way has drawn the details of each mole and hue instead of the muscle. "You sure as hell ruined a lot of things today."
Step number one on breaking down Leo Valdez's walls: challenge him to admit his own greatest fears.
"W-Wha—" his voice is cut off when another slap of skins echo in the cramped room. His lips falls apart, unable to say any noise before he registers your nudge. "No! What do you—aah-ngh—" you are cruel. Far too cruel to test him on 'what are we?' questions and confrontations about the cross they've discarded now. Far too cruel when he can't even speak the next cue when you simply take his breath away. His cock twitching and smashing against your cervix, and you—somehow—looks like you can stay calm through it all while he's an absolute pathetic mess.
"First, you ruin our friendship," you hoarse out, leaning down to reach his level and near your lips to his ear. "And you acted like a self righteous bastard earlier," he gasp to the crook of your neck, gliding his hands to grasp at your torso—cradling till your chests are mushing against one another. "You can't even control yourself not to cum like a dog in heat." you chuckle a breathless one.
Sure enough, your prediction is correct. He always burn his hair off and have his skin rise up abnormally in temperature, even his cock is searing hot in your sticky pussy—that's the reason why he broke the protection after all. And he lets out that little broken whine, "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, fuck—mhm—gonna—"
His light brown eyes shoots wide.
And you lift your hips just in time when both of you resides in that sweet fulfilling pleasure, washing you in immense warmth that weakens your spine and drops your jaw. Even you can't help but whine and yield out a moan, resulting from the chaotic yet perfect sex both of you will probably only had once in a lifetime. With him. With you.
"Lo siento—" suddenly, through your blurry peripherals and ringing ears, a crackle of his pyro tendencies acts up out of control. You'd thought that maybe he did it on the air, on the seat, or maybe even your skin.
The radio right on the center of the headboard? It's news telling voice for a music channel blurts out in the car. The loud boom startles you till you glance at the device from your laid position—fully on top of him. You were about to ask him how the tech device operates on its own without a brain-ware, but Leo only spouts another, "Lo siento—"
Right before the radio static churns off. And works of pyro-manship blurts out of the screen, burning off the screen till it's having a seizure of green screen then turning off fully.
... Seriously, is your pussy that special or something to the point he broke a condom and the frickin' radio in span of five minutes?!
"Cariño, I'm—" but another thing came up to your attention, something more urgent. He may be able to suppress it at first, but after the whole degrading and bullying you did on him—it turns him into a weak pathetic disaster. Weak enough to come like a dog in heat and pathetic enough to sob into your shoulder, just like each words you spitted at him. "Gods, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just..."
Leo finally cracks, "I wanted you for so long, needed you ever since I see you laugh at my awful puns, dreamed of you ever since you argued with me and you actually made great points at that—" he whimpers, tightening his hold around the rib housing your frantic heart. "I was a dick, a coward for acting like I don't care about you. Like I don't think about your wellbeing more than mine. Shit, mamî, I'm just so—"
He pulls away from your neck, glassy eyes meeting your intense ones.
"I thought," he murmurs, trying every breath he has to steady his voice while you blink at him, not in confusion—but something borderline on reverent. "I could just ignore my heart and listen to my brain. Logic's always gonna keep you alive, so I tried to support you with your crushes, try not to think of what we could be if you can just—" he inhales full of trembles, "Notice me."
"So, yeah," his palm—no longer burned till it imprints to your skin like before. It slips to your cheek like comforting warmth, like what Leo had always been to you. "I ruined our friendship," his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, but his eyes are a gentle anchor on meeting yours. "Because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody. You want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
He exhales, having finished releasing all the weights trampled deep within his heart. Given now that you notice how it starts to slow down. Like this moment doesn't need to be dramatic or full of fireworks, it can be peaceful and calming. Especially with the previous heat now shifting into gentle warmth blanketing as how a cocoon would around you.
In finalization, you decide for yourself. For the hidden waves of beats that always seem synchronize with his own pulse. For how it only gets to slow down right at this moment, with him too.
"Come on up and get dressed." you rise up from your position. Breaking off the silence, not out spite for the comfort or the resting chance. But for something you always wanted to say to him.
"Uh... for what?" he stutters, and you definitely dumbed down this man for now.
Your lips curves up a smile, as easy and genuine as the new understanding you connected in your synchronized pulses. You already finished wearing your bra properly while he's still wide eyed like a deer in headlights. "I'm taking you out on a date."
pairing: Leo Valdez x Poseidon!reader
wc: 1.3k
warnings: lil bit angsty, possibly really bad
a/n: first fic yippee 👋 !!! Probably the beginning of a series ??? Also this is sorta fluffy me thinks 😁 oh yeah and fem!reader btw srry
“That’s totally unfair.”
“How?”
“You can use any machine, even without ever seeing it before, along with knowing every single little detail about it, just by touching it. The fuck you mean ‘how?’”
Leo laughs at your comment, not even looking up. “You literally can create hurricanes and earthquakes, and you’re jealous I can tell you what year something was made? Dude, I watched you freaking blood-bend like some Avatar character last week-”
“That’s not the point! I wanna be able to make stuff! Harley, who is at the ripe age of eight, mind you, made an entire Iron Man suit for Halloween! And it worked!” You respond, spinning around on your stool.
The two of you were hanging out in Bunker 9, which was bustling with Leo’s siblings. “Hey, Harls,” you nod at the small child (ironic timing) as he passes by, looking both ridiculous and perfectly at home in a welding helmet atop his head. As he waves back with a bright smile, it falls down his face and he fixes it hurriedly. He rushes away as you snicker good-heartedly. You glance around at the lively space. Ever since Leo had re-discovered Bunker 9 after over a hundred-sumthin’ years, Hephaestus kids had reclaimed it, and Chiron even changed the crafting-classes for the other campers to be held there.
Leo sneaks a peek at you over his shoulder, watching as you hum absentmindedly and watch your fellow demigods. He was a bit surprised, honestly, that you, envied his and his siblings’ powers. He himself had always wanted powers like yours or Jason’s… to be able to control elements at will, to be the royalty of Olympus… y’know, stuff like that. Of course, Leo was aware he could control fire, and that he was the first child of Hephaestus in hundreds of years to do so, but fire wasn’t exactly an ideal or desired skill. Nyssa told him herself that his abilities were dangerous.
... fire was the reason his mom was gone. Fire could end the world, the Great Prophecy said. Leo's pyrokinesis, to him, seemed like a curse sometimes.
But that wasn’t even the power you wanted. You wanted to build, to create like he and Harley could. You wanted the powers that everyone at camp undervalued and dismissed. Leo appreciated that about you. Leo shook his head, clearing his mind. “You’re weird, cariño.” he comments, heating his hand to mold a piece of celestial bronze into a scale-like shape.
You rolled your eyes, humming along to the Rolling Stones song Leo was playing from a boombox he made a few months ago. It was almost quiet under the sounds of laughter and machinery. “Gods forbid a girl want to be able to drive a car without suffering through driver’s ed. Hades, I could even make the car myself if I could do half of what y’all do…”
“You’d really prefer building random shit over having the powers of the sea god?” Leo asks, turning to you and setting his work down, kind of amused.
“Don’t word it like that, dipshit.”
“Sorry, your dad’s pow-”
“No, I mean the ‘building random shit’ part.” You cut him off.
“What are you talking about..?” Leo asks, softer now.
“What you do, Leo, isn’t ‘building random shit’,” you mimic him and his slight Tejano accent. “That makes it sound like it’s useless. You’re literally building a giganti-normous boat that will help us save the world. And you’re the only one who can.” You tell him, a rather sharp look dancing in your eyes as you gazed at the huge thing in the center of the seemingly-never-ending bunker. “You are the only person alive that can build the one thing that can make sure we even have a tiny fraction of a chance to save humanity, and you’re doing it in under 6 months. That’s freaking insane, dude. Plus it’s gonna have color-changing sails and magic rooms? You’re probably the most important part of this quest, Leo.”
You glance at him, watching his hands press against the table and his head hang as he refuses to look at you, not used to compliments or thankfulness for his work. You noted that he looked paler than usual. More tired, too. Building this ship was consuming him. “... no matter what the prophecy says.” you add quietly, knowing what he was thinking.
“... what..?” Leo whispers.
“You heard me,” you answer. “I know you’re worried. About the prophecy? ‘Eight half-bloods must answer the call, to storm,” - here comes his least favorite part - “or fire the world must fall’, blah, blah, blah. Yeah, I know you think it’s referring to your pyrokinetic ass, but I hate to tell you this, there’s an entire word in front of fire. And don't be a smartass and say it’s ‘or’.” you cut Leo off before he cracks a bad joke to ruin your speech.
You start again. “It’s-” “Storm,” he interrupts - marvelous, he did it anyway - “Yeah, I know.” he mutters.
You rise, walking over to Leo and wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly from behind. You can feel his muscles tense before his entire body seems to melt into yours. Because he was perfectly your exact height, you could set your chin on his shoulder and murmur: “Then you should also know that means there are exactly three other contenders for the title of ‘world-ending-little-bastard’: Jason, Percy, and me.”
“Huh..?” Leo responds in a very intelligent and eloquent manner.
“Poseidon. Earth-shaker. Storm-bringer. Me and Perce are also potential candidates.” you respond, a bit of a bitter tone to your voice. You had never gotten the opportunity to meet your older brother, as you had just arrived to Camp Half-Blood alongside Leo, Piper, and Jason about 5 months ago. But as soon as you learned of Percy's existence, you had wanted to learn everything about the only other living-demigod-child-of-Poseidon as godly possible. “... so, that means you only have a 25% chance of destroying Olympus. Yay!” You inform the mechanic helpfully.
Leo snorts. “Thanks,” he turns in your arms and hugs you back. He buries his face in your shoulder, breathing you in. You focused on his abnormal warmth, and how he smelled like bonfires and oil and Leo. Not on how he was probably getting grease on your clothes.
“Nice to see your productivity,” a familiar, female voice sounds from near you. The both of you untangle yourselves to see Nyssa, Leo’s older sister and your recent friend.
“Shut up,” Leo mumbles. If you’d’ve turned to look, you would have seen the redness in his brown cheeks. “Hi, Nyssa.” You greet her, and she begrudgingly smiles. In her muscled arms, she carried more celestial bronze. “Where you need this?” she asks Leo. He nods to the incredibly disorganized pile of random stuff next to his self-appointed work table. “There’s good,” he responds, running his fingers through his messy curls. “I can take that,” you grin, deciding to actually be helpful, and taking the divine metal from the tall girl. You grunt as you take the pile, as it was a lot heavier than Nyssa had made it look (see? Hephaestus kids, man…).
As you turn and walk a slight bit away, Nyssa quietly asks Leo: “You good?” He nods, muttering a quiet “yeah”, not properly meeting her gaze. But Nyssa knew her little brother. Leo had always been kinda scrawny, even sort of toned after a while in the forges, but now he seemed even skinner. His beautiful brown skin was grayed and paler, and the circles under his eyes were darker. She walks over, pulling the smaller boy into a hug. Leo freezes, but hugs her back quickly.
“Stop skipping dinner. Come to the dining pavilion tonight. Or I’ll burn you alive.” she mutters. “I’m fireproof,” he snickers, revealing his slight gap tooth and dimples. “I’ll find a way.” she retorts, letting go. Nyssa pats his head (he swats her away), and walks off. You, on the other hand, had found your way back to your stool, and watched the Hephaestus siblings interact. Made you miss Percy. Could you even miss someone you never met? ... not the time. Don’t be selfish, you think to yourself. You focused again as Nyssa made her way back to the giant half-finished boat, something Leo had dubbed the ‘Argo II’.
“I don't get a hug?” you complain brightly. “You just got one.” Leo responds, grinning a bit.
song #10 of sometimes (a leo valdez x daughter of dionysus smau)
warning(s)! cursing, bad apologies, a tad uneventful, idk
NOTE! yay second to last part! next parts gonna be more of an epilogue with a teeny timeskip to give you closure on how it works out :) thanks to everyone who stuck around!!
TRACKLIST // NEXT
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Leo Valdez x reader, chapter 4 of How not to get her back
Masterlist prev ~3.6k words
“Okay,” Annabeth started, hunched over her desk in the Athena cabin. You and Percy crowded on either side of it, trying to make sense of the blueprints and battle plans scribbled on countless papers. The two of you shared a quick glance as Annabeth scrawled another note. Silently, you both could tell— neither of you knew what she was on about.
“Ares cabin and those asshole Hermes kids may have gotten us last time,” Annabeth said, head falling to her hand as she ran her fingers through her hair. “But on Friday we are winning getting that fucking flag.”
“Wisegirl, did you sleep?” Percy asked.
Annabeth wiggled her hand like so-so, “Eh. Anyway,” she continued. “I came up with a plan to get them back, and make it bad,” she said, clenching her fist with malice.
You nodded along, “alright, what do we have?”
She exhaled with a sharp laugh, and grinned as she began to explain. “I want Hephaestus on defence, traps on our whole leg of the forest,” she started. “Athena will divide between distraction and actual attack, Percy, you’ll go for the flag. Y/n, I want your cabin playing forward, but mostly running interference. I’m gonna get Hecate and Hypnos to totally disable them… I’ll have some bribes to make. And everyone else I want on a stronger defence.” Annabeth went on to ramble about humiliating those war mongering assholes.
By the time she was done, she was writing more notes that neither you or Percy could read. With context, you could tell some of the drawings on her sheets were the woods, marking where the flag would be and some of the groups. In the middle of the forest near the flag were some scribbles of people upside down with red scrawled over them.
You pointed to the drawings, “what are those?”
“I want them strung up like piñatas for us to beat them back into place,” she grinned, clasping her hands together forcefully, and cracking her knuckles.
Annabeth turned quickly, snapping her fingers at you. “That’s why we need Hephaestus, they’re got good traps. Y/n, I need you to go get your boyfriend to agree to be on our team.”
You cringed hard, “ugh.” Boyfriend. She said the word with so much… you weren’t sure what. Malice? Condescension? Teasing? You sucked a breath in through your teeth as she started to smile at your reaction, her tongue pressing on the inside of her lips to suppress it.
Percy rolled his eyes, “yeah, how do you think we feel,” he said, glancing at you. You looked down, not realizing your arms had contorted as you squirmed. Your hands quickly fell back to your sides.
Your head bobbed from side to side. “Whatever,” you managed. It was such a non response that they had to know you had no excuse.
Percy put his hands up, shaking his head in slight surrender. “Hey, hey, no judgment,” he said, with squinted eyes and a crooked smile. Yeah, there was judgment.
Under the pressure of both their eyes, you started to back away. “Hey, let me cook,” you defended, suddenly feeling the need. “It’s about the endgame. You guys can’t say shit, I remember what happened when you were fourteen.”
Annabeth pursed her lips. As did Percy. “Okay, whatever,” she said.
“Yeah, bitch,” you taunted back, sensing you’d won that. You walked back towards the door throwing peace signs and grinning. “You know what, I will go get him.”
“Good fucking luck,” annabeth said, rolling her eyes as she started drawing battle plans again.
“Oh,” Percy said, perking up. “I can ask Tyson to build some stuff, too, since he’s around.”
Annabeth nodded furiously. Percy leaned down, gently kissing her head before he started to follow you out. The kiss almost embittered you. For all your teasing about years ago, the endgame did work for them. You could only hope the same. For all your talk, you couldn’t be sure.
Percy glided to the door and held it open. No more time to ruminate on the game plan. You hurried through, nodding as a thanks and waving bye to Annabeth. She definitely didn’t see, though, as she was right back to her planning.
…
You barged into the bunker, and scanned around. Oddly, Leo’s main workbench was empty. Even stranger, Leo was sitting on the couch, looking up at you, a bit confused.
You stared back with equal perturb. The last place you expected Leo to be was on a couch— or half of one, given it was sawed in the center— taking a break. He was huddled with a blanket hunched over his phone.
“Hi,” Leo said, looking up at you like a guilty child caught with their hand in a cookie jar might. He flipped his phone down and gave you his full attention.
“Leo,” you said. “We need your cabin for capture the flag.”
Instantly, he groaned, phone falling off he couch as he covered his face “Last time I literally got skewered,” he said through muffling palms. “Like, there was a hole in my shoulder. Screw all of you for that.”
Your brow flattened, “okay, well it’s not like we did that. And what if I said Annabeth has revenge planned, and your cabin is necessary.”
”I’d say what are you willing to give me, because Clarisse already asked and I said maybe,” he shrugged. Sensing your betrayal, he quickly backpedaled, hands in the air. “Not that… I care. I just wanted to be on the other side of the skewer.”
You folded your arms, “Okay, well, we can also stab you,” you said. The thought was amusing. Leo betraying them— possibly under threat of the Ares cabin— would make them all more likely to want to stab him. Skewer the filthy traitor. Had Leo considered this? You doubted it.
“Convince me,” he said, leaning forward with interest.
Ugh. You rolled your eyes. “You get personal revenge on whoever stabbed you? And you get to be in the winning team.”
He shook his head, standing up and discarding his blanket. It slid off the side of the couch half, ending up on the floor. “More,” Leo added.
Ugh again. Leo was drifting over to his workbench, you couldn’t lose him to it and let him get distracted. Not at a pivotal moment like this. “Athena cabin does your chores for a week? And I’ll train you just in case they go for you again,” you pursed your lips, and idea turning over in your mind. “Maybe I’ll even stick with you during the game, give you personal protection.” Hehe. And excuse to hang around him.
Something intrigued him. Leo perked up a moment, stopping his slide to the bench, and looking back at you. “You want to train me?” He asked hesitantly.
“Is that a big seller?” You asked, head slightly tilted. “If so, then yes.”
He sighed, “okay, deal,” he said, feigning reluctance. The corners of a smile gave away the fact that he was secretly happy about this deal. Maybe you gave away to much with the Athena cabin thing. You could have held off on that bargaining chip, maybe the training would have done it. Leo cut off your line of thought, “can we start today?”
Okay, he was suspiciously enthusiastic. “Sure,” you answered tentatively., “Give me a second to change clothes.” You looked him up and down, his grease covered camp shirt and jeans. Was that the same grease from that stupid car thing? “Maybe you should change too,” you said, wiggling your finger up and down at his outfit. “Not as good to fight in jeans.”
Leo looked down at himself, and nodded.
“Okay, arena in ten.”
…
You rifled through the weapon collection. Leo usually used a hammer to fight? You didn’t really know how to teach that. The basics of swords, knives, other blades and such would be easier, and maybe applicable if he felt like being the hammer guy. At the very least, he’d get practice defending against normal stuff. Yeah, that was a solid plan. And hand to hand would be a good place to start.
You fiddled with some celestial bronze swords, tossing them up and spinning them while you waited. The sun was high in the sky, and you knew you’d end up sweaty from this. Even if you didn’t do anything. Already you were beginning to feel the heat creep up your back and shoulders where the sun hit the hardest.
Leo was walking along the path, you saw in the distance. His shirt was the same, but this time he had on some gym shorts. That was an improvement.
Hmm. Training one on one with Leo. Maybe he was enthusiastic because the idea excited him the same way it did you. Maybe. You could pray to Aphrodite for it. For that kind of miracle.
You waited, trying to look cool as he approached. The arena was vast and dusty, each step he took getting louder with the crunch of pebbles and packed gravelly dirt. Enough battles had been fought here to press the ground into itself, hardening it far beyond the regular paths or forest floors of camp.
Thankfully, it was mostly empty. A couple guys were slashing at dummies on the other side, but that was it. The bleacher stands to watch the matches were blank, you’d have no audience. Good. If Percy and Annabeth were teasing this morning, this could make them brutal.
As Leo bounded towards you, you noticed the tool belt hanging around his waist. His weapon stash. “Hey,” he said, catching up to where you stood.
Your lips curled into a smile as he greeted you, and to suppress it you pressed your tongue against your teeth. “Hey, Leo,” you grinned.
“Oh, you are was too happy about this. You’re gonna beat me up, aren’t you?” Leo laughed skeptically.
“No, no, no,” you snickered, waving your hands around until finally settling on an x with your wrists to signal no. “The point is so help you, I’m gonna let you beat me up,” you assured, still grinning sheepishly. You should probably stop that. Or else he might guess why your actually giddy.
You clasped your hands together, and asked what he wanted to work on. To that, Leo hesitated.
“Uh,” he started. “Everything? The basics?”
Leo started to describe a few scenarios, and swung an imaginary sword through the air as he told you how he lost. You pursed your lips. Okay, Leo was novice enough to not know what he needs work on. Or he really does suck, and sucks at everything.
You put your hand in front of him, blocking the swing from his pretend sword. your wrist clashed gently with his, probably the first of many fake blows to be exchanged. A smile cracked on your lips. “Okay, let’s just start with what happened last time. What led to you getting stabbed, we’ll talk about what to do better.”
”Okay, it went like… Clarisse was like—“ Leo started to act, and you did your best to follow his poor miming. Leo thrusted an imaginary spear forwards towards you, “and then I jumped back to not get stabbed,” he said. “Then I swung my hammer—“
You played along, acting out Leo’s part with a pretend weapon of your own, slowly swinging down towards his head.
Leo nodded furiously, “yes, yes,” he said, lips pursed as he tried to remember. That was his remembering face. “Then she—“ he put his arm out to block yours, “and honestly, I don’t know what happened next, I just was stabbed.”
Hmm. “Okay, so close combat,” you nodded. Mostly to yourself. “Is what we’re working with. Maybe you just need better grasp of the fight.”
You tapped your fingers against your chin as you formulated the strategy. Leo is good at playing smart, but up close he doesn’t know how. He’s good at traps and tricks, but not brute force.
“Here,” you started. “If you’ve got somebody bigger then you up close, you won’t win with force. You have to play smarter, let me teach you a joint manipulation and like, weapon disarming,” you grinned. Yes. “Grab me by the arm,” you said, patting just below your shoulder.
Leo complied, and you bit the inside of your cheek. You walked him through the simple steps. First, your hand on his, thumb over thumb. The difficult for you wasn’t in the move, it was in executing it in a timely manner. The urge to leave your hand on his hit you the moment you started. Next step, turn sideways and control the joint. An excuse to hold his hand.
You took a solid few minutes to explain in great detail the importance of holding that hand.
The next move, pressure on the elbow was less exciting. But as you started to push down there and up on the hand, Leo fell gently where you guided. Like a ragdoll.
“Get that?” You asked, releasing him. Your hand snaked its way to his arm once he stood and recovered. “Try on me.”
“Uh, okay,” Leo said. “So first—“ he copied your steps. First, his hand was over yours. But in slightly incorrect placement. You used your free arm to correct his fingers, move his thumb over yours until you could feel the pressure. You noticed even his fingertips were firmly calloused as you maneuvered them.
Leo focused intently as you did, and looked up when your hand retracted. A moment of eye contact was almost awkward in the situation. “Like this?” He asked carefully, not moving his fingers from where you left them.
His hands were warm. Not in the usual sense a usual hand would be; it was as if the fire power he had was always on, always burning. He was hot to the touch.
“Yes,” you nodded. “Now turn sideways.”
Leo intently followed, turning, and remembering on his own the next step. His arm clumsily poked around yours to find your elbow. He lightly pushed down when he noticed the bone. “Here?” He asked hesitantly.
You grinned, starting to hunch over as he put gentle pressure, “You got it.”
“I got it,” he echoed, not letting go. He grinned, holding your arm closely and tightly. “So your saying I could totally take you down right now,” he snickered. His curly hair hung loosely at his face, but he didn’t have the spare hands to tuck it away. God, you hated him. You had to try really hard not to grin.
You rolled your eyes. He still hasn’t let go. “Use your powers for good, Leo,” you chided, looking up at him with a lopsided smile. Your body folded slightly to follow your elbow, which he still held. That meant he was getting a high angle on your face, which was good. You shot him a look of half pleading, half teasing. “Pretty please.”
He shook his head. “Just because you asked nicely,” he grinned. “Let me do another one, but faster this time.”
And so you practiced more, until he got it right on instinct. Then you had another idea. Could be a winner, that new plan.
“Hey,” you said, “what if we move to the grass and add a takedown to that?”
Leo blinked a few times. “Like… I take you down?” He asked hesitantly. His lips shifted from side to side across his face.
You led him to the grass with a spring in your step. Leo was going to touch you. Beside the arena was the forest, and between that and the path was a small grassy patch. “Okay, do the same thing we just did, but then fake punch me and sweep my leg out,” you said, like it was easy.
The grass under you was dewy and soft, a good landing pad. Looking around, it was still uncrowded, thankfully. The most company you had were a few forest nymphs at the trees edge who were sitting around together. The sun didn’t beat down quite as hard here, it felt. The greenery and slight dampness of the ground eased the sun.
“Give it a try,” you urged, grabbing his shoulder again for the set up.
Leo did the motion, then paused. One leg, he hooked around the backs of your knees. He tried to use some force to get you down, but it didn’t work in the slightest. A giggle escaped your lips as he tried. It was like a terrible stupid dance.
“Hey, don’t be shitty,” he defended, leg dropping back to the ground. His hands stayed around you for a few extra moments before he dropped them. “Correct me, asshole, don’t laugh,” he smiled, folding his arms across his chest.
You shook your head as you snickered, “see how I do it,” you said. You went through the motions with him, and got in close. Heat practically radiated from his chest, it was easier to feel the closer you stepped. Like a second little sun was holding your hands.
In one fell swoop, you swept his legs out from under him. You probably didn’t have to do it so fast just for training him, but there was something a bit irresistible about the idea. His eyes widened as he fell, opening his mouth, probably to make a sound, but none happened.
You caught him, snaking your arm halfway around him, and grabbing his free hand.
For a few moments, he looked up at you, his eyes wide with surprise. He blinked. A couple times. Then cracked a smile. “What,” he laughed. “Are you gonna tell me I fell for you, or something.”
Fuck, he was spot on. Though maybe you’d think it, rather than say it. Saying it felt bold. But now that he started it…
You grinned. “Didn’t you?”
“How could I not,” he smiled, not missing a beat. You still hadn’t pulled him up yet, by the Gods, you didn’t want to. It was quick comebacks like that that made you wonder, sometimes. Was there any truth to it? His smirk never wavered, “you’re pretty smooth, you make it easy.”
Where did the quickness with it come from? Could he joke like that because there was truth to it, or because there wasn’t? Which would be easier?
“Do you think flattering me will convince me not to drop you?” You asked, fingers tightening slightly around his back.
He pursed his lips. “Well, I’m hoping. But don’t get me wrong,” he said, putting his free hand up in surrender, not even trying to escape your hold. “That doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.”
You sighed a smile, hauling him back to his feet. “Try on me,” you suggested.
His brain needed a few moment to reboot, as he just stood there for a second. Tentatively, he put a hand on your shoulder. “Like… for real?” He asked. “I don’t want to actually hurt you. I doubt I have the skill to catch you.”
His lips curled downward with hesitancy. The longer you waited to assure him, the longer his hand would stay on you. You smiled, biting the inside of your lip. “Yes, it’s soft grass,” you said, “and I know how to fall.” Like a rag doll, you thought.
”Okay,” he said, still uncertain.
Leo tried to mimic your speed. His foot was fast, but still imprecise. His ankle snagged the bag of your knee, buckling you but not in the direction he’d hoped. You made it easy, rag-dolled down.
Now, there were a couple things you could have taught Leo better. That became apparent as you fell. Firstly, he was still holding your shoulder. That in itself was good, he was controlling your fall, in theory. In practice, he was holding so well that when you went down, so did he. His balance was a bit flawed.
The last thing you saw as you fell was Leo tumbling down after you, and straight for you. Your eyes pressed shut as your free arm shielded your head.
Oof- your landing on the ground was fine, but the additional person that fell on you was less. Acutely, you felt bony ribs crash straight into yours, knocking the wind out of you with a wheeze. That skin and bone motherfucker. His elbow thankfully missed your arm and face, but his knee crashed right into your shin.
“Leo, you motherfucker,” you said, stifling a strained laugh, fighting the weight on your lungs. You slapped the grass with a groan to get the violence out. “You are all bones.”
”Only for your mom,” he grumbled.
Without opening your eyes, you felt around for his face, and pushed it aside with a grin. “Dickhead,” you laughed.
The weight on your chest shifted, and you opened your eyes. Oh. Leo rolled off beside you. Instantly, you missed the feeling, even if it was crushing, you were far more hollow without it. Far too light.
Your head lulled to the side to look at him as you laid there. Leo was sat up now, much less damaged by the ground. Because he didn’t hit the ground, you figured. You laced your fingers together and rested them on your chest. In a small way it was a substitute for him.
“Seriously,” you said, gazing up at him. “All bones.”
Leo shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “That’s my brand,” he started, “scrawny, but in a hot way. Like a chad way. Where are my sun glasses, they’d really make my point.”
Your plans flew up to cover your eyes. “No they wouldn’t,” you groaned, trying to keep an annoyed tone through your smile.
He flicked your head, “I can tell you love them.”
Before you could respond with a denial, Leo started to stand up. You glanced at him through your hands, and noticed he was holding one of his out for you. To help you up. You pressed your lips together through a small smile. Gods, you hoped you didn’t blush.
Your fingers gently locked with his, and then it was his turn to haul you up.
“Go again?” He asked.
“Duh, of course.”
Next
Guys I’m a week late posting this even tho I wrote this in November. I just never got around to editing it I’m so busy and lazy.
Author lore: if you follow y/ns directions you might learn something. I actually teach martial arts on the side idc if you don’t know any. Y/n does.
Taglist: @oneiratxxia10 (let me know if you want to be added)
— synopsis.ᐟ in which your bestfriend, Leo teaches you how to properly fuck (and make you his for once and all).
— warning.ᐟ fem! reader, switch! leo, CORRUPTION, first time, talking you through it, switch! reader, eventual MESSY smut, praising, degrading, hair pulling, swearing and profanities, car smash, riding, porn with plot, bestfriends to lovers, the condom broke, pulling out, inappropriate use of fire, temperature play, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), dumbification, overstimulation, p in a v, past! leo/calypso, brief smash of leo with random person, leo's also drunk while doing it so, chem! side-major reader, yearning, pining, a sprinkle of angst, all of them are aged up!
— word count.ᐟ 16k (oopsie doosie 😝)
— a.n.ᐟ requested by anon! U and ur genius mind... by far the nastiest smut ive written 🤭 and please tell me if I have miscorrections for the spanish sentences!
Leo Valdez has never had sex before.
Sure, he's extremely charming and he just can't help it when people naturally flaunt to him like an overexcited birds (they do not, don't believe him). But all those times he spent blushing and throwing spanish fluffy innuendos that he's always been hopeful they can't translate it—because he usually compares them to one of his favorite science equations or his inventions—never treated him very well with his silly puppy crushes.
They always end up just brushing him off like he's not even comparable. And to be fair, he is not comparable to any of them.
Like this one time, during a meeting when the campers are talking about the connections of Percy Jackson's disappearance, someone with sweet written lips conjures up the most brilliant tactic right at the table. Every word of her mouth sounds like a siren's song—even when she's talking about the monster's threat and everything sorrow—all Leo hears is how much he wished that voice would be directed to him. To greet him. To acknowledge him.
She's completely out of his league.
But when has that ever stopped him?
So Leo starts slow, just a quick wit against her suggestion every time she's involved in a meeting. Just a quick meet up to talk about quest strategies and his position in the prophecy. Serious talks always leads to lighthearted ones. That's how he found out you and him are not so different.
Because one time during a meeting at the impending final, Leo spouts a brilliant (horrible) one liners when they're in the brink of getting finished by Gaea, she has the audacity to scrunch her nose, crinkle her brows, and try the hardest not to burst a sharp laughter. No way she's gonna ruin the atmosphere and get scolded by Jason Grace for laughing. And definitely not for Leo Valdez's jokes out of all reason.
Sure, the thing about the absurdity of their impending doom and the fact that they're only teenagers forced into fighting a god's war is funny.
So guess what, two years later?
That girl and him are now best friends. Practically inseperable, twins at birth (preferably conjoined), that is proven more when Festus constantly takes her side more than he does with Leo. The sheer audacity! For stealing his first homeboy, for stealing his hoodies, for stealing his handmade tacos whenever he looks away for one second, for stealing entire shower utensils (so he needs to make two birria tacos in exchange to share shampoo with Jake Mason), for being you.
You, who's his best friend. You, who's sitting in front of the operation table not far from where he's working. You, who's currently humming a song—and Wicked Game by Chris Isaak out of all songs. And you, who does all your small adorable habits, while his table are filled with notebooks of your school subjects and highlighters with colors Leo can't even count one by one.
He's being banished in his own bunker. Being mistreated, more so. The wire between his fingers sparks up as if knowing his prolonged attention on you. His situation is not so different from yours. Shards of micro metals scatters on the rugged floor, collections of screws all used up beside him, and the sketch of a small wasp engraved on the paper in front of him. It may look normal from upfront, but you're dead wrong if you think his innovations are gonna be any normal.
"You know, just a heads up," he starts off with that familiar snark, handling the unconnected wires that flies tiny fireworks from the chemistry. "No one but me can open this bunker before in a hundred of years. No one but me can sit so pretty while singing off tune and tries to write a new chemistry theory and start an argument with a dead scientist."
Your head flings upwards from the trashes of equations, eyes widening a slight before you turn from your very precious notes about Niels Bohr's phenomenons. "Excuse me?" your nose scrunches, face knitted in that sour mood as you swing in your (his) chair to meet his sitting figure. "We can just take it right outside if you have a problem with me."
Leo groans a loud one, and he'd run a palm over his face right now if he's not wearing a glove full off mechanical fluids, "Oh, trust me," he shares the same sour face as yours, shooting a frown. "I'd happily take that chance if you ever decided to get the hell out of my working space, asshole." he pouts for a good measure.
At that statement, your mood is quick to turn as coffee is to sugar. "Hey! It's an obligation to share things with your very struggling friend!" your hand gestures rapidly to the amount of books on the table, to which he only replies with an exasperated whining. "And why not make a use of my friend's very useful hideaway because I cannot focus studying in my own cabin?"
"Didn't my friend just threaten to chase me all through the woods if I don't give her the operating table earlier?" he gasps a dramatic one, like a victorian lady that just found her handmaid is stealing her gowns. Hands clutched on his face, and his brown eyes wide in that manic energy of his.
"That's not a good come—"
"To which she decided to threaten me more after the whole shenanigan and suggest we should take it outside and fight each other to death?" the last word intensifies louder than the previous ones, his tongue clicking in that sing-song disapproval before manifesting in a lyrical song. "No eres tan inteligente como piensas, cariño." and that aggravating, agitating smile of his? That produces the rainstorm over your head as you scoffs.
"Fine," your eyes roll, both in surrender and irritation. But it's not you if you don't match his streak of stubborness. So your arm raises, pen pointing at him while your eyes narrows—like a wizard trying to cast a spell at him. "But you're the one who gave me this chair anyway. So you don't get to play the victim, jerk."
"Oh, wow, look at that!" he raises the same arm as you, though he's pointing at you with a screw instead of a pen. "You just said your first words of common sense! Should we invite Chiron for this? Or oh!" he claps his hand in that ridiculous excitement that's reserved only on bullying you. "Should I ask Pollux to arrange a celebration? Maybe I should make fireworks that blows up in the sky and writes 'The first ever human to learn about common sense!'" a squeal escapes his mouth like over caffeinated squirrel, his eyes gleaming in pure cheer while his lips are tied into that big grin of doom.
With that statement too, the room falls in silence —burning in Leo's mocking grin and your fumed beet red cheeks. Right at that moment, you have the sudden urge to find Frank and strategize a way to embarrass him all out in public. Or find the Stoll Brothers and bribe them to prank the hell out of this jerky latino of a jerk.
"Sorry," you straighten up, still carrying the same defiance as you scoffed and turn in your seat. Back to Niels Bohr's cradle on spiking atom's theories up to your head. "I don't speak 'Asshole Language'." your tongue drips in upfront sassiness before you try to ignore him. Eyes on the prize, you remind yourself as you look over to the Chemistry's research on inorganic chemicals and other tricky topics.
You could feel Leo's gaze burning in to the back of your head, and you felt strange. Why isn't he spouting any sarcastic comments or jabs right now?
The rustle of the fan is more louder than any sentences could be uttered in this moment. You're far too engrossed in your writings anyway, that is until you hear a different kind of shuffle rustling behind you, footsteps that comes closer, and feel his finger poking on your cheek—successfully making a dot of soot on the apple of your face.
Your eyes widen, a stark contrast to Leo's playful grin and wiggling brows, "Oh, that's it—" you takes a sharp inhale of disbelief, head shaking just before you grab a particularly thin book and slam it to across his shoulder. That earned a yelp and stagger from him, backing off from your position before a sulk forms on his lips—hands still rubbing against the sore spot.
"Rude." he narrows his eyes at you. "I wonder how anyone could keep up with your crazy hands—OW, OW! Damn it, okay, okay!" you sigh as you plop back down from pinching his sore spot. The chair creaks under your weight while you place the weapon (book) back to the table.
"You're awfully cranky today." not even five minutes later, your dear best friend just cannot sit his ass tight and not bother you for a moment. In fact, he starts circling you like you're a fine bomb just in the ticking of a minute. He whistles behind you, and you realize that it's the same song you just hummed earlier when you take your eyes off the chemic's books.
"You shouldn't waste all this beauty by getting angry." now, he actually had dragged a chair nearby so he can sit beside you. His face is close to your sided one, his warm breath hitting your left cheekbones as you try with all might to focus on how the hell the Highest Occupied Molecular Orbital operates in a graphic. Fun-fact, the soot on your right cheek hasn't been wiped off yet before he pokes his finger on the crease between your brows, "These wrinkles gonna make you look like my grumpy grandma than my sexy best friend." his tone goes lower, like this is actually a serious phenomenon worth of his tears and grief.
"Right fist or left fist?" you finally force yourself to turn you attention towards. To which he immediately perks up and curls his grin like a cheshire cat.
"What about lips?" Leo throws you a wink, pearly whites flashing with eagerness of your impending annoyance.
"... I'm calling Will." the message is already clear in your head, 'Take this evil guy with messy dark hair and the ugliest grin ever and please give him something strong so he could have a rest for one day.'
"I'm calling grandma." he retorts, already pulling out a hand mimicking a telephone while he puffs his cheeks.
"You don't have one."
"Oh yeah," he blinks in mock surprise. "Right, because she's sitting in front of me right now."
He nudges your shoulder.
You flick him off with your fingers.
The room falls in that silent once more, the kind that you're not sure of what he's gonna say or act—considering his spontaneous personality. The fan hums, and you'd thought he's burning holes into your face before you realize he's rather focused on your work.
That's when you became a hypocrite yourself and peek a gaze at him. Observing how his dark locks falls over his forehead, his brows furrowed in that cute little concentration, and mouth unconsciously pulled into a pout.
"I think I learned this when I ran into a monster at twelve and tried to connect its tail to an electrical whirring."
"Oh, all hail Leo—the only living person in the world who learned the catalyst of organometallic at twelve—surely, the gods must be proud." you can't help but roll your eyes and whine in frustration. It's sad and it's pathetic. But he really should stop burning off the wire when it's already stressed out.
"I'm just joking, princessa," this time, he raises a hand to rub the soot he left on your cheek. "I'm a genius, but I'm not a self centered prick." especially when you know everything about him, he wants to say—but he cannot exactly do that, right?
You sigh, catching his gaze that gleams with a small smile. His assurance are always infectious, and before you could know it—a curl forms its way on your lips. "You're literally the textbook definition of self centered."
"Really?" he narrows his gaze, "Is that what you think of me? After all the bloodshed, the team-ups, and you catching me in my worst state when we're in the middle of a war?"
"Fine," you slump your figure to the chair, particularly his chair. Leaning your head over his shoulder when you shifts a little. "I know you're not like that," a pause, then you pinches his cheek once more. "But you do make it look like that, always."
You could feel the boy respond your touch, an arm flying its way to wrap it around your torso—bringing you closer to his natural warmth. "You know what you need?" he says, and you don't know if he's trying to steer the topic in a different direction or simply just wanting to tell you out of care.
"What do I need, genius?" you murmur, closing your eyes for a brief moment of recollection.
"Sex."
"Don't even bring that up right now." your tongue rolls out the syllables sooner than your mind could rethink it over. Though, you can't say you're not surprised. Sexual matters are basically a topic you guys hunched over at seven in the morning, and without even breaking composure or a stutter. Both of you are freshly nineteen, it's completely normal! It's just that...
He does not need to know that you never had one.
The first time Leo Valdez had ever experienced anything remotely close to having sex is when he's giving a girl a blowjob.
It was strong at night, the drinks were bubbling in the air of the room, and the suspense of excitement is just too big for him to ignore it. He initially came to this bar, just so he could drown out any memories of Calypso's sweet nothings and then her eventual sharp endings. Anything to get his mind off the goddess he just spent a whole tons of work on swearing by the Styx, get her the hell out of that island, and caring the hell out of her.
He understands that maybe she just wants something new, something that isn't broken like all the half finished rocks on her island. She wants something complete, something that can actually work. Something not sparking with uncontrollable chaos and unpredictability. Something grounding.
Leo is far from any of that description.
So yes, he's visiting a bar in New York, ordered a strong fire whiskey with his usual forced flirtation, and got drunk at Air Supply's playlist rolling behind the stereo—while other people are swaying their drinks and cry to the song. Leo would've joined, if he downed three glass of the whiskey in a span a minute for each time he chugged the drink.
But he downed six drinks, so here he is; holding up a single of plush thigh over his shoulder, running his palm over the skin as the girl above him whined in muffled mewls. As you can probably guess, yes—he and the cutie bartender that served him before is currently 101% high right now. Her lower back is against the rim of the sink, hand over her mouth to lessen her noises, and *NSYNC playing on the dance floor outside of the bathroom. The band can be suitable, but not when it's playing This I Promise You while he's literally kneeled on the cold tiles.
The slope of his nose brushes against her puffy clit, but Leo's too drunk and out of his mind to think of the girl's pleasure right now. It's a quick fuck, and he hopes he's doing well for a first timer.
A ring, from Star Wars's main theme rolls out just in time when *NSYNC's title shifts to a song called Gone.
That combined interruption, more specifically on his phone ring crashes over them both like waves of cold water over their very much messy brain. Leo ignores it at first, instead working much harder on her weakening hole as she tugs on his curls—a startled moan out of her mouth.
The phone rings and vibrates once again in his pocket.
"Fuck," he rasps out, pulling away with a lewd slick from both his spit and her fluids. Leo is dazed, and his brain seems to wreck even more when he grabs his phone and holy light stabs his face. He forgot to lower the brightness earlier, he curses. But he blinks for a few moment, scrunching his brows to make a good read for the reminder on the lock screen.
It's you.
"operation ASAP, need ur help right now." 23.03
"hermann kolbe is terrorizing me under my bed, so be a knight and save me from chemistry horrors?" 23.04
... How can Leo say no to that?
He clears his throat, tongue throttling with its own as he staggers his words. "S-Sorry—for breaking the mood." the sharp blade of the whiskey earlier still hits his brain repeatedly. But right now, he's not acting on logic. He's acting on heart, on familiarity, on comfort.
He rises on his feet, not even bothering to slip the phone back to its pocket while he simultaneously grabs his forgotten leather jacket by the next sink and trashes it around his torso. "I have to go. She just told me last second that she needs company or else she'll have nightmares—" he doesn't know why he's rambling to tell her the reason, she's just a stranger to him anyway. But Leo knows basic decency, and she should at least know the why to the what.
Even if it's a lie.
That's a long time ago anyways. And right now, he'd rather think about keeping you steady in his cradle. You would be whacking his head off if he places you in any uncomfortable position and you wake up with a sore on your neck. So his arm tightens around your waist, both of your chairs now practically plastered together by the hip like it was always meant to be one. Luckily, the work that has been buzzing your stress since earlier is finished partially with his help. Chemistry is still in one umbrella with his engineering understanding anyway—so it's not that hard of a feat.
His throat hums a song, it naturally tunes out of his memories with his mother either singing him the melodies or dancing carelessly to one. His other hand holds out your papers of doom—you always called it to be—inspecting the contents of your hypothesis and connecting the lines of each sub-stack and concepts in it. It's clear that you worked pretty hard to make this perfect, at least you try to in your professor's eyes. New Rome University's pretty strict when it comes to this matter.
Leo breaks his attention away from the papers for a split moment, feeling the shift of your body against his when you moved in your impromptu sleep. Seeing your fluttering lashes, your parted lips, and the way your forehead still has that small hint of tension even when you're in a nap cracks that smile out of him.
"What should I do with you?" his thumb reaches out, seeking to soothe that wrinkle on your skin like his touch has some sort of magic. And maybe it does—because the tiny frown immediately vanishes after he brushes it.
Leo decides to place the paper back on the table. Maybe you'll sleep better if he caresses you while you're at it.
"Clingy chica." a chuckle tumbles out as he too relaxes under her touch, if his touch soothes your stress—perhaps your touch heightens his instead.
There's a gleam passing his eyes when he can't help but trace your every feature. It's a rare opportunity, even when you're used to being this close—you'll never let him take a pause and appreciate you. Not just your looks, but you, in general. What you are, simply.
Leo swallows down a hard lump in his throat, feeling that familiar pump of rush that he always tries to deny and forget. A feeling he has when he first met you. The rush of blood running to his cheeks and quickening beat of his heart. A feeling he always tries to dispose by replacing it with attachment to other girls or boys.
He should've had it gone by now. It's been years since that stupid crush on you.
"... What should you do with my heart?" his voice cracks.
He always cracks when it comes to you it seems.
Always cracks when the sun rushes down to embrace the sea, when the sky paints ink of stars, and the moon rises from its hidden cavern. The transition from you sleeping, head on his shoulder and back to his chest—then to crackling flame with boozes of cans scattered on sand is almost too blurry. When Piper had the most horrible timing and suggested a spin the bottle game in your circle. The most terrible timing when the bottle spins to point at you beside the fireplace.
The most perfect timing when Annabeth raises up a dare—and it reads, "Do a lap dance on someone."
He'd expect that from Piper's dreadful matchmaking, or heck—even Percy's too fast tongue since he always likes to watch a new challenge everyday. But not from observant, calm, and scary Annabeth. That's one of his closest friend in the circle! And she just decided to dump an ice cold bucket at him?
Leo's not sure if he more terrified if you'll find another guy to flaunt the dare, or worse—him.
Gods, hopefully him.
Your eyes catches his light brown ones that crackles with the fireplace's spark.
And you actually approach him.
Claps and cheers soars from within the circle—some already set out a tune with their acapella, all melodious with Will's lyre tucking. Leo doesn't even register when you stand in front of him. His heart feels like a mouse getting chased by a fiery, ravenous cat. And he'd find a way to get out of the room.
If you haven't placed your hands on the slope of his shoulders, if you haven't trailed the fingers down his chest above his thin cloth, if you haven't actually lower yourself on his lap—he'd have done it right away.
Your hands traverse upwards, while your hips sways before settling properly on his lap—above his... he doesn't even want to talk about it right now. The acapella of the group is basically a backhanded sound to him right now, because somehow—your sigh is clearer than any sing-song or small drums.
The proximity is addicting to say the least—and he hasn't even chugged down on any beers all of you managed to steal from the Mr. D's stack. The hands of yours flies to the back of his hair, tugging at your roots before you move closer. Chest to chest, lips just a breath away. And he's inclined to wash that gap away...
Until you pull away.
To say you weren't affected would be a lie, a full on bullshit. Even when you force a smile and joke around to your friends, even in the midst of the glaring vulnerability of something more—you lock eyes with him, across from the crowd. He's always been easy to spot.
Or maybe you just notice everything about him?
... Maybe you should take up his advice and find a guy for a quick fuck.
The street buzzes in choirs of klaxon, raging old men, and fast paced pedestrian as you rush through the city lights. Besides the sea of fast moving people, your phone lights up inside the car's far speed room. A message pops up on the lock screen, one that caught the brunette boy beside you.
"Can't wait to see u!" 20.50
That's enough for Leo to bring up the lucky messenger once again. "You really gonna continue a deal with a guy from dating app?" his eyes paints a lighter streak to his brown eyes, almost like the luminance of sunset—even when the night city lights are the only thing hovering above them right now. You'd get lost in them, if both of your lives aren't at stake the moment, you'd take your eyes off the road for a second.
"So what?" an air blows out of your lips, both indicating nonchalance and exasperation. Because he's been acting kind of moody ever since he picked her up. Maybe he was testing some theories and it didn't work out. Maybe he was pranked by the Stoll Brothers before he came with his modified car, nobody knows.
Leo scoffs, "For starters," his back leans onto the chair, his arms crossing as he peeks another glance to your phone when it beeps. "It's just not like you to ask me to lend you my car and drive up to date some guy you barely even know." he runs a hand through his curls, just simply to distract himself from what's really bothering his mind. "Especially if the guy will probably turn out to be a serial killer. You know that happens in thriller flicks." then his mouth stumbles out a sour laughter.
"I already told you." a streak of frown creases between your brows, and you choose to steady your focus on the popping lights on the road ahead instead of him. "And you encouraged me to take the chance, mind you."
"That's before I knew you were gonna meet up with a guy you barely know." he echoes his previous argument, light crackles flick out of his fingertips—to which it didn't pass your attention. "I thought it's gonna be someone we both know, someone from camp, or maybe NRU!" he doesn't say the real reason. He doesn't say that he wishes it was him you're meeting up with.
He really should stop being a hypocrite and decease this hoping once and for all, he knows that. He knows that he's being a complete prick right now. But Leo is as stubborn as the hoard of cars suddenly lining up in front of you.
"Shit." you mutter under your breath, rising up from your slump to view the congestion ahead of you.
"And great," his hands claps to his thighs, a roll from his eyes as he grunts. "Just exactly what we needed in this fucking night."
"No need to swear because of me." you shoots him a look, because—hey! What kind of person doesn't take offense to that?
"No!" the word rolls out of his panicked tongue the same time a car honks in front of you. "I don't—" crackle of weak flames spurts out of his curls, probably reflecting both the annoyance and sour taste sitting in his brain. "Shit, I mean—" his eyes are a tad bit wide, mouth stuttering up staggered syllables before he surrenders completely. Suddenly dropping his back to the car seat, palms rubbing his face. "You know that's not what I meant..."
"You still said it." you murmur.
"Look—" he braces himself to speak up, even behind his guarding hands. To which he beckons a gap between his fingers so he could take a peek at you. You responded just the same, eyes flicking to him while car drags to a full pause. The city lights are shining brighter than ever when cars are piled up in the road. Yet, somehow—it doesn't seem more aggravating than the boy next to you.
"Let's just get this over with." he sighs. "You date whoever you want and I'll date whoever I want." It feels like he's coughing out expired ambrosia, because he doesn't feel like anything his mouth is saying. He'll care for you than he could ever care for himself, he's sure of that.
"Which is exactly what I've been saying since thirty minutes ago!" you cheerfully exclaim, a smile as sharp as a stygian iron pulling up on your lips. The irony is clear on your tongue. "You're the one who gets riled up by my own date for no reason!" your voice drives high pitched.
"And now you're the one who's telling me to mind my own business?" everything about him is infectious; his adorably disgusting smile, his incredibly horrifying laughter, his amazingly terrible sense of humor, even now his perfectly frustrating mood-swing is getting to you too. Everything about him is mixed feelings!
"Right, right," his hands lift up in surrender, the glowing warmth from the upper lamps are echoed in his eyes. "Don't worry, you're not gonna hear any bullshit from me again, princessa." Leo is not the type to lose easily in an argument. But this is you who's his debating enemy right now.
You, we're talking about here. You, who's existence is a voice that echoes in his head over and over again like a god's calling (maybe he should get on his knees). You, you, you, who undoes everything that he is.
"Oh, silent treatment, huh?" your forced smile draws even wider—not out of the blushing joy he always made you in—but out of disbelief at his gnawing attitude. "Real fucking mature, Valdez. Just keep on acting like you don't care and maybe it will actually happen. Go on, pretend like I don't exist."
Leo stays silent with his words, choosing to face the window instead.
Fucking great, you think.
The time counts for eight minutes before the congestion cracks up and cars moves like a bird free from its cage. Though, begrudgingly, your attention is more prolonged on the boy who's definitely not sulking on the passenger seat. In your defense, the way the city lights reflects on his face is distracting you more than you realize. Annoyance stems in your heart, which is a weird thing. Because why would your heart flutter for the second time?
A car honks up behind you. Signaling your frozen car when the others has already moves ahead of you.
"Maláka." you curse under your breath, momentarily imagining a moment where you scold yourself for being so stupid before you gas up the pedal. The car now moves in a speed much different than before. A stark contrast to the slow traffic earlier, now it's gliding under the moonlight.
And you force your mind to think about the mall, the same place where you're supposed to meet up with some unknown man and watch a movie with him. Probably fuck with him later on, that's your whole objective anyway.
Finally, your car enters the main gate of the destination. Wasting no time to search for a parking space when you slide down to the basement.
You beckon the car to a turn, and when an empty box lights up like heaven's pearl, you drive the car to fulfill that spot. Beeps of signal echoes in the car room, you face backward, focusing on whether you parked it correctly or not.
You finally stop.
Leo is still silent.
During this time, if he weren't in such a bad mood—you'd probably seek his advice. Just because you read inappropriate stuffs doesn't mean you're as experienced as someone who probably has done it. You know the first thing to approach a guy, you just don't know the first to actually keep the lust going.
Especially when he's only a stranger.
You're internally screaming in your head.
"Thanks," you force yourself to mutter, reluctantly turning your attention to him. "For letting me borrow your car."
"No problem." he replies simply.
That doesn't sound like him at all. He'll usually ramble up some mouthy wits before actually saying a respond as common as sentences in basic english books.
So you once again, stops just when your hand is at the door handle.
"Leo." you call out.
"Yeah?" he replies, and that unusually low voice out of his throat is tingling something familiar in your heart.
Thousands of confession lies like melting ice above your tongue. Each one worse than before, each one making your heart race in something definitely not because of the adrenaline from the fight earlier.
"... Nothing." the door flaunts open when you said the single contradiction. A sound is made from it, an echo of troubled tension between you as the fire crackles between blue and vivid orange. Your feet plants on the ground—ready to take another step further, yet you hear a voice from behind.
"Have fun with him. You deserve it after the assignment." in your understood translation of Leo's guard melting, this one means, don't let your day get ruined because of me.
Your breath hitches.
And your heart suddenly feels heavy—like something is anchoring you back to him.
You turn back.
"Alright," you burst in the car suddenly. Shooting your hands to block his way and pin him to his own seat. And Leo with his wide eyes doe look definitely did not expect the surprise at all. His jaw drops, mimicking his shock—and he was about to object if it weren't for your fast tongue. "We're not gonna act like we haven't talked about sex positions in a casual movie night at a random Thursday." maybe that's a terrible sentence even for someone like Leo Valdez, but hey! At least the hook catches his interest.
"What the—"
"I never fucked anyone." you could hear an explosion blowing up inside his brain simply through the immediate flame jolting out of his curls. "Never been fucked, and never been fucking. Ever. Not once in my lifetime. Even when my opinion about woman on top is better than your shitty doggy preference." there you said it, every lies you made him believe. It's not that dramatic, but the way his eyes dilates even more made you feel so.
"... Congratulations?" he blinks.
"Really?" you facepalm, your arm going stiff beside his head.
"Oh, no, no, no," Leo immediately cuts you off, and his tone is going hazard as if the explosion quite actually happened in his head. "I mean, I thought you've already done it before with the way you talked!" sure enough, actual flames combusts on top of his curls like they're forming a crown—if it was made by a snobby prince and not a proper blacksmith. Red rush heats up in his cheeks, painting his face in a flustered look that you can't help but acknowledge the butterflies in your stomach.
"But," contrast to his sulking face before, that heat in his curls now shifts to draw a grin from his lips. His eyes darts between your pinning hand and to your gaze, "That means all this time you're actually just an innocent princessa? No experience besides probably playing with yourself?"
"That," you swallow a hard lump, "I haven't done that too." you can't help but notice how a gleam passes in his light oak gaze. How that previously doe eyed shocked eyes are now lidded to one that basically reads as... recognition? Desire? Hope?
"Mierda," his grin shifts to something you'd never expect from him in this abnormally ridiculous situation. It's genuine. Purely joyful realization that coaxes a faint dimple from his cheek you never notice until now. It's barely there yet it's making your heart race. "He estado esperando toda mi vida por esto." he breathes out, shakily.
You tilt your head, confusion written on your face.
Noticing your expression, he quickly composes himself with a clear of his throat. The rosy cheeks still remain, though the wide smile shifts into something unbelievably serious. "... There's something I need to know." he voices out, light honey eyes burning into yours. "And I need you to be honest with me."
His hand glides to your own that rests beside your hip, slowly crawling in his fingers to interlock with yours—until you accept him fully. "Are you okay with me touching you?"
Something in the way his skin boosts warmer when your hand holds his is telling you that he's not simply talking about basic touch.
Gods, you want him to do more than touch.
You nod, any semblance of voice being stuck in your dry throat.
"I need to hear you say it." his hand tightens a brief strength in yours. A scrunch of brows heightening the crackle that hides behind his brown sight. "You know you've got a smart mouth, and I'm not gonna do anything until I hear your decision loud and clear."
You could feel a rush of blood running below your abdomen. And you wonder if the erratic pulse is a rhythm out of your heart or the sensitivity between your legs.
"Yeah," you stumble your voice. "Yeah, yeah," an inhale sucks into your mouth, "A thousand times yes, Leo." the tension is an erratic wire in the air between you, alive and burning.
Fumes of accidental explosions springs out of his curls in warm smoke.
"Santo dios, bebè." he gasps, and you notice how his pupils dilates like he's just seeing the world for the first time. "I'm gonna die. Right here, right now." and a smile conjures up like sugar has been hiding in his lips all the time, slow and in relief. Maybe he's already imagining the prospect of dying under sheer joy because you share the same feelings. "And now, you have the responsibility to bring me back to life too."
A sulk forms on your lips. "Don't be dramatic." you rolls your eyes playfully, your walls melting when his hand drifts from your own and slides down across your skin. He eventually settles on your waist, thumb caressing your partially side abdomen above your shirt.
"So," your gaze slips briefly to his mouth. "What do I do now?"
"You know," his nose scrunches, brows wiggling to hint at something seductive in his tone. "How about," without further ado, Leo sneaks in another to hand your other waist—and with your shudder, he successfully brings you on top of his lap. The car door shuts with a low clap as you seek steadiness by holding onto his shoulders.
"You test me that theory we've been fighting over?" his smile curves wider when he looks up at you.
"The one where you're jealous with my date?"
Leo blows an air out of his lips, a dry chuckle escaping his throat. "Well, that's a small part of it," then his eyes lights up, "But that's not what I'm talking about and you know it!"
"You have a smart mouth," tactfully, a teasing smile appears like you've been waiting to use something against him. "Don't you think you should put it to good use, hm?"
"Oh, gods." Leo cracks, actually cracks when a burst of laughter flings out of his throat. The sound is like honey carved out from its own nest, sweet and adorable. You wonder how he could bring out any sort of emotions out of you, at least back then you contemplate so. But now you know, you're just that into him, the same way he is to you.
"No puedo creer que te tenga a todos para mí." His fangs flashes out when his grins curls wider. The words are more of a murmur for his own erratic heart, each beat still has god's calling that basically spells out your name in his mind. He's creative like that. "I'm talking about you," he winks. "Arguing about positions, and you're really stubborn on liking to be on top." his head tilts a slight.
"Right." your voice cracks, gaze drifting rapidly from his face to the sight of you sitting on top of his thighs. "Well, maybe," your voice shifts lower, almost a whisper. "I need someone to teach me first?"
"You, asking for my advice?" he lifts a single brow, hand dangerously caressing closer to your hip. "Is the world ending any sooner? Is the earth flat? Is the sun blowing up any second?"
"Don't be dramatic!" you scoffs with a much higher pitch, eyes narrowing when all he does is stifle a laugh at your irritation. When you do tighten your hands around his shoulder, and he wince in mock pain—does he clear his throat and bury his laughter deep and deep.
"First," Leo drags his fingertips from the tail of your spine to upwards, slowly—like he's testing the waters to see what will made you crack. "You gotta relax. No need to overthink your pretty head around this thing."
"Second," his hand is now caressing its palm on your upper back, before bringing you closer to him in this intimate position. Until the only thing separating you both is one strand of breath away. His freckles are easier to count in this close angle, and his eyes are like glinting dew of warmth that's mixing up with a want that widens his pupil.
The slope of his nose brushes against yours, and his other hand reaches for yours. Just so he could drag your palm to his shuddering chest, the feel of his rushing heartbeat filling your senses. "All you have to do is sit still and make some pretty noises for me, m'kay?"
You scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. "Do you always start it out like this?"
"Always?" Leo blinks, once and twice before a nervous laughter staggers out. "Bebè, I haven't even done this with anyone before."
You frown. "So we're blind leading the blind? And here I thought you'd be more experienced than me."
"I am!" Leo grasps to clutch at the front of his chest—only that it's your hand that's gripping it as he guides you. "It's just..." he clicks tongue, the sound echoing inside the cramped space while he glances sideways. Deciding that the view of the parking space is more intriguing than you on top of his lap. There's a crack in his tone that suggests something more than simply sex. Something painful. "It's a bit complicated, and I don't want make this moment about me."
He lets go of your hand, bracing himself with an inhale before sliding his warm palm to your cheek.
"It's all about you, princessa." his gaze softens, lips parted like he wants to say more, though only a soft inhale is heard from his mouth.
"Then at least," you interrogate, eyes narrowing in search of any hidden meaning in his gesture. "Have you actually tried putting it in yet?"
He pulls a lopsided smile. "Well, I know the first thing to loosen it up, that's for sure." suddenly, his thumb and one finger moves to pinch your cheek. Wiggling it as if he's playing with mochi as your head shakes slightly from his hold.
You grumble, though you make no effort on swatting off his offensive hand. You know it's just a body language response so he could lighten up the mood, hence you let him—just this once. "And if someone sees? The mall's pretty crowded today, who knows we're gonna get interrupted while we're at it."
"You thought I don't put full black frames for the windows?" he raises a brow, though his pinch on your cheek fractions more before he finally gives mercy to you. Choosing to slip his hand behind your nape.
"Now," his breath fans against your mouth, his head pushes off slightly from leaning to the chair—wanting to lean towards you, instead. The scent of him is filling your mind till all you can think about are cinnamons and bitter honeydew aroma. Till all you can think about is him.
Both of your lips brushes against one another.
Leo's eyes fleets to yours, drawn stars swimming in those brown irises as he looks at you in half lidded shape.
You understood the message.
Hence, you surrender to the overwhelming surge of flame, bursting off in tiny sparks inside your veins when you smash his lips to yours. Your teeth clashing against one another which makes your groan against his mouth, Leo takes the hint easily. His hand behind your waist brings you closer to him, practically pressing chest to chest.
Your lips are inexperienced, that's for sure. But enthusiasm burns brighter as you shift on his lap—your hands crawling to slip around his face, then to hold his curls. Just lightly.
Leo gasps.
Both of your salivas are basically swapped to one another's mouth, you're merciless, to say the least. So, Leo, like any other good teacher would do—tugs at your hair instead. Collecting the strands in his palm before he forces it to pull back. Successfully separating your lips in apparent exhales and messy connected line of spit.
"If I didn't know any better," a breathless laughter fills in the space between you, his smile widening to a messy grin as his gaze darts between your eyes and your mouth. "I think you should be the teacher here. Seems like you move a lot for a first timer, hm?"
You were too busy catching your breath to respond at his teasing. The heat is unbearable, or maybe you're just that affected by him. You want nothing more than to wipe that grin and kiss him senseless. Throwing logic off the window and just let him steal every breath you'd inhale or exhale. Just let him steal your lungs.
"... Shut up."
And your lips crashes into his like a tidal released from the deep restrained trenches. If the previous one was more battling and experimenting—this one's definitely the result. His tongue tied into yours, his hand unbearably warm against your lower back, and his nails clawing at your roots when you whine into his mouth.
The effect is immediate. Leo snaps by digging his fangs on your bottom lip, turning your shy exhales to a full on groan when the sharp of your teeth caught on the pout of his lower lip. Tugging hard enough to pull a strangled sound from the depths of his throat that seemed to surprise both of you.
"So good," he breathes away from yours, just to take no second on plunging in once more. His curls brushing against your forehead while his nose nudges into yours, a testament of how close you are in just a span of minute. "You're too fucking good, princessa," then finally, need of air interrupts between the both of you.
"I don't—" you attempt to speak, but your words shifted into a low mewl when his mouth moves to your jawline instead. The position makes you jolt slightly on his lap, to which you notice—something is poking you from down below.
"What? You don't taste good?" Leo rasps out, attention too focused on peppering your neck with kisses it deserves. And when your neck tilts to give him better access, you could practically feel his grin against your fragile skin. "You can't say that when I'm losing mind over you here."
A breathless laugh flows out of you. Feeling Leo's teeth nibbling your skin, to the point you could imagine light hickeys on your neck is making your head spin. And you wonder, why haven't you done this since ages ago? "You're babbling again, Leo."
"Of course I am," he bites on a specific skin pulsing against his lips, then darting out his tongue to soothe the ache. "Why should I shut up when I could use my mouth," he inhales, dragging his tongue along the slope of your throat. "To make you wet," he makes a point by grinding his hips against yours. "And tell you how pretty you look doing this to me?"
"Oh, now you blame me?" you huff, chest heaving up and down as your eyes are lidded shut—just to relish in his touch fully. You're not even doing anything to him! If anything, he's the one doing things to you.
"Yeah, you." along with his tongue, his teeth is no less ferocious. He moves to your collarbone now; nipping, suckling, and licking at every hickey he carved onto you. His breath is a hot exhale when he speaks, "You're the one fucking me up, that's for sure."
You sigh.
Leo chuckles, voice somehow shifting lower than it should be. "See? That," his hand slides from your waist to your abdomen, fondling against the hem of your top, seeking your body beyond the fabric. "That one sound is already making me hard, bebè."
"I know that since five minutes ago," because yeah, that prominent bulge is hard to dismiss when it's brushing against your heat with every movement in this cramped space. "It's kind of hard to ignore." and you melt into his warmth when his calloused palm slips in your shirt, grazing against your bare skin.
"Kind of?" his laugh is a sweet smoke against your flustered skin, which's beaming in red from every heat he spread onto you. You find that only his affection is infectious, but his naturally warm body is too. "You think it's not hard enough for you?" he finally pulls away from your close cradle, just to take the chance to shoot that aggravating grin of his when he squeezes the underside of your breast.
You can only groan in disbelief.
He has the audacity to spout that sassy words and twisting your mouth while dangerously going to the touch the one spot you never thought anyone would touch? Bastard. Yet he only kisses your anger away when his lips molds into yours, his thumb brushing against your bra's surface before he murmurs. "Take it off."
You pull away and look at him like he just asked a thousand drachmae's from you.
"I mean," he clears his throat, hands freezing under your shirt. "If you want to, of course. We could do it with clothes on. You know, there's this preference—" and he goes on and on with his tongue.
It's no use to fight him with words, you know that since he started rambling about quantum mechanics when you first entered his bunker. Not that you minded it, though.
So you reach for the hem of your top, and pulls it upwards with your arms crossed. And you definitely noticed how his words fades to a pathetic stumble as his jaw dramatically drops. Which goes the same for your shirt, which is now lying on the empty driver seat.
The cold air is a sensitive pleasure against your warm skin.
A flame sparks up in Leo's hair.
"Holy shit—" your mouth falls.
"Okay, OKAY!" Leo's hands frantically throws upwards, desperate to usher off the smoke and combusting fire stirring up a flambé on his head. His face is the same color as the element too, red and panicked. He can't believe he just spiraled in front of you, when you're looking all perfect and he's a complete disaster! "First of all, all of this is just—" a new of burst flame tickles off. "You never saw this! And I never acted like a total loser when you expect me to be all suave and flirty and attractive," pause, "Which I am, but—!"
A finger presses onto his lips, effectively shutting him up with a shush out of you. He notices, that laughter that seems to bloom armies of peonies, flowing in the space between them with such eagerness and joy. "C'mon, teach," you wiggle your brows, lips pulled wide as a series of giggle still flies out naturally. "Are you gonna touch me already or do I have to make the move?"
"No need." it's almost comedic worthy—how fast he immediately composes himself with that serious look when sparks of fire still jumps from his curls. He adjustes his collar as if tidying an imaginary tie, light honey eyes darkening with the invitation of your half bared form. "That was just a moment of weakness."
"I like your weakness when it involves me." your arms circles around his neck now, fingers playing with his curls.
"That means you like all of me, then," his mouth trails from your collarbone to the pad of your bra. Huffing a heavy inhale to the scent of you driving him insane. "I'm always weak," his mouth closes around the fabric—which surprises you a little bit considering he hasn't even took it off yet. The slope of his grazes your skin as he juts his tongue and circle it around the small area of the pad. The area where your nipple should be behind it. "And you're always on my mind."
He bites on the fabric, tugging your bud of nerves through it.
Your head jolts back, back arching a slight while you tug at his curls tighter. It feels dizzying, yet your mind has never been any clearer. His tongue and lips are like sweet nothings carved into your skin. Making you sigh and mewl.
It takes approximately fifteen seconds before he finishes making out with your bra (long story short). Not to mention how his other palm squeezes against your perky flesh, the heat spiking up further in your veins. There's a damp of saliva on the surface when he pulls away, eyes slowly dragging to peek at you from his lashes, pupils nearly swallowing his brown irises.
The sight makes you swallow.
His hand glides, tracing the waistline of your bra before plucking off the strap, with such ease too. The fabric loosens slightly, and Leo halts—eyes burning into yours like he's still asking for your permission, after all that suspense.
Words has never been good between the two of you, so you take things into your own matters—you tug the fabric past your arms, before throwing it to the next seat.
Leo throws himself in the crook of your neck.
"Oh gods, mierda, oh my fucking gods," he whines, full of embarrassment and shameful need—which is ironic because the word shame and Leo Valdez is like two things on the opposite. His hands don't ever dare to go anywhere near your skin, and you notice how they tremble in the air. "I'm actually going to die, this is elysium, yeah, I don't deserve this—"
"Leo," you pull him out of his hiding place, cupping his cheeks on your palm as you force him to meet your gaze head on. "I want you to touch me," his breath hitches, "I want you to fuck me," you could feel immense uprise of temperature blowing like a steam out of his skin, "Is that so hard to believe?" and your thumb caresses against his cheek gently, prompting his eyes to flutter close.
"But I don't want to fuck you," his head shakes under your hold, eyes still closed for a brief second before he blinds them open, "I want to love you," he wants reassurance, because as much as he is spontaneous and careless—he's weak for you, just a boy wanting to be loved without being left behind. "Is that so hard to believe?"
His eyes gleams in what closely resembles the sun dimmed down, vulnerable and desperate. And when he nuzzles against your palm? That's when you melt in the spot. Even more so when he lands a kiss on the center.
You shift much closer, pressing your bare chest against his thin shirt—the sensation is a tickling arousal to your brain. But you want to focus on him fully for a second, and you flies a small kiss on the corner of his eye—the intimate moment feels heartwarming in their shared desire, "Then," you mutter, "Teach me how love's supposed to feel like."
A shudder crawls toward Leo's spine.
In a span of seconds, his head dunks down. His hand finally gathers the courage to collect the back of your hair in his palm, slowly guiding it upwards as his moth drifts low. Lower than before. Low enough to catch one of your mound right into his mouth. You gasp, arching your spine before he gives a light suck on the nipple.
"O-Oh, gods," you mewl out of breath, closing your arms against his neck with a lot more force when he eagerly sucks on that bundle that makes you whine under his touch. You knew with the way he's biting your neck that his would be relentless, but your chest is more sensitive with his natural heat, and you could feel it harden as he licks and circles his tongue around it.
"Leo, that feels so..." you couldn't finish your words. Not when he latches off your breast only to go on another round to your other one. Eager with mouth with its nipple hard—you don't even know how it went like that. All you know is how good his mouth feels and the erratic thump of your heat is spreading hot rush to your cheeks. You want more, easily more. Hence your hips whine against him, grinding just on top of his bulge to feel anything of relief to your ache.
"Keep doing that," he groans against your perked up mound, making your skin feel hot all over with his heavy breaths. This time, a hand surges upwards to fondle with your untended one as he continues to suck, kiss, and bite at your sensitive hard nub. While the finger does just the same to your sloppy one, flicking it then pinching it playfully, "Mierda, ngh—hahh, yeah, bebè, that feels so good, doesn't it?"
"L-Leo," your head throws back, lips falling apart when another gasp echoes right out of them. You can't stop saying his name, it's like every bite he does onto you is seducing out that sound of your chest. Rasp and full of need. It's no surprise that you responded with another roll of your hips, making him suckle a bit rougher on your aching bud.
"Can't get enough of this," he breathes out, ravishing your breast like someone starved off any drink or food for days. "A-Ah, that's right," it's hard to think of anything concrete even when he's supposed to be teacher in this moment, he just can't keep control, especially when it comes to you, "Just like that, you're moving your hips so good—" and a small whimper is ripped out of him the moment your shift and grind against him.
"Oh, f-fuck—!" you feel it pulsing and crying below when he bites onto the hard nub outrightly, leaving draws of hickeys all over your skin not like a claim—but a mold of your body together. How much you trust each other to the point of doing this. It becomes more proven as your spine arches and your body automatically jolts at this point. Seeking friction to soothe the cry that your pussy wails down below. It hurts, and you need him to do more—to burn you more.
That is when you realize, you feel his tent becoming more wet and embarrassing, more so than before.
And the snap of his head to the chair's rest, his mouth falling open, sweat gathering in forehead while he curses in a series of spanish syllables is driving your body to grind against him harder. To the point of your wet pussy folds imprinting against your useless panties, to the point you could feel every heat and rough presses of his bulge against your clit.
"Haaah—!" you're not sure if that loud moan toppled off the car came out of his throat or yours, but nothing seems to matter except the ecstasy you imprinted on each other. How he came in absolute ease, and how you succumb to his warmth like you need him all the time. The wet tent below you feels painful even to you, and you don't even register you own actions when you hand slides into the hem of his shirt.
"Oh, quieres que me quite la ropa? Oh, está bien, joder, está bien—" you know he's practically running off his mouth with boundless and mindless babbles that you could never comprehend in the rising heat between you. Both of you doesn't waste your time on getting him out of his top, which is a red sweater that you definitely didn't notice it peeking out his happy trail when he arches his back to the chair... nope, definitely not!
Now, all that meets your heady gaze is the span of his bare torso. All dribbled in sweat that you shamelessly begin to be turned on by it, tan skin graced with light muscles dripped down to his abdomen, and a faint brush of brunette tricks spreading out from his pants. The sight making you hump against his wet tent just to hear him whimper once more.
Only then does Leo comprehends the very possibility that you might not like his body. "Mira, sé que parece—" and only then too he realizes that his tongue is still working on full spanish mode. "Shit, I'm sorry," he babbles on, eyes blown wide and cheeks inflammable red. "I know I don't look that good or strong or hot or—"
"What d'you mean?" you reach a hand to pinch at his biceps, which tenses and got a lot more prominent under your touch. "You look just fine to me, pretty boy." and Leo mewls at that nickname, body shifting against yours in search of pleasure.
"You are insane." he breathes shakily, hips jolting up against yours in weak humps, considering he just released after the first one. "You are evil and you're going to kill me in this car and the police is gonna find my body and I'll end up in a true crime podcast by some stranger who doesn't even know that I died because of this insanely hot and beautiful angel!"
Told you he babbles.
"But seriously," you near your mouth to his ear, using the knowledge of every platonic sex talks you guys both had in previous times. You know that his ears are sensitive, and you used that to your advantage.
"You look as good as I am naked." your teeth nibbles on his earlobe, looting out a trembling sigh out of him. "And besides, it's not fair if I'm the only one bare, that feels spiritually misogynistic." and you babble on too.
"Right," he nods almost eagerly, head bobbing up and down before he swallows a lump through his adam's apple. "Right, but—"
"No buts," you teasingly nudge a light bite on the side of his neck, like a small ant's carve. But maybe he feels a big one instead, because he trashes under your body—one hand fisting your hair to a tight grip while the other holds your waist even stronger.
"Fuck, that's what I'm talking about." he tilts his head as his eyes closes for a brief moment. Letting you litter his body in sweet and sloppy kisses that he never knew he could have it ever in his life. You feel like a miracle to him, an angel sent to torment him specifically as his hips suddenly raises when you digs your fangs into his shoulder.
"I'm just copying what you did to me." because even with your bravery, you're still picking up on his cues on how to do this whole sex thing, it's a bit confusing, but as long as you followed him, it'll be okay, right?
Another mewl falls from his parted lips. "Bring it down," he breathes in harsh staggers, swiftly grabbing your hand and trace it along the slope of his chest, then to his faint abs, then to rest at the surface of his wet pants. "Touch me there, pretty."
And you do follow his words, just with a twist of your own tease. Your tongue glides on the sweat glistening his chest like drops of paint all over his body. Leo shudders, bringing his arm to hover above his fluttering eyes as he arches more and more to the seat. Littered kisses, soft sighs, and quiet praises flows out of your mouth like waterfall, and you're not sure if you're cooling down his heated body or intensifying it.
"That's it," his words are a trembling inhale when you nuzzle your face against the hot linens of his abs, though that's not what earned a yelp from him next. Your arms extends to reach your hand for the seat adjuster, suddenly springing the chair to drop backwards to beckon him for a lying position.
"Ah, oh, you want me to—" Leo blinks out of his daze, seeing how you begin to lower yourself on his lap, "Shit, uhh, you sure you can take it?"
You peer at him briefly, "You think I can't handle it?"
"Not that!" his hands wave uselessly, a frantic look on his face before he rises with the help of his elbows, "You sure you're not gonna..." he coughs, "Look at me weird after you see it or something? I mean, I don't want to gross you—"
"Are you like big down there or something?" you take the opportunity to ghostly brush your tongue against the peeking trails above his pants.
"M-Mierda—" he arches his spine, a breathless gasp breaking out of him, "You are a terrible student. Really, I should give you a hard D or maybe throw you out or maybe—" his ramblings are cut off when your mouth closes on his belt's strap. Suddenly all that echoes in his brain is how cute you look kneeled down like this, your tongue uselessly flinging at the iron handles before your hand lifts to open it instead.
And suddenly, his belt is tugged off by your own mouth, like you were too impatient for him. It clangs against the car's door, while you drag down his zipper line by your teeth.
"Hold on," since you're a newcomer at this, he should be a good teacher, after all. So with a gulp down his adam's apple, he drags his pants to his knee, and slowly pulls down his underwear.
You're astonished, to say the least.
It's true, he is big. If you do the math, he's approximately 6 inches, or less so. It's slight curved and has that blushing warmth coupling in his bulbous tip that you could already imagine it hitting the back of your throat—
"Do you like it?" Leo asks much quieter, like an exhale mixed with a whisper. His eyes are keen on your face, taking note of every reaction written on it. He feels hot and bothered, but he still wants to know if you're as eager as him.
You are.
"Well, now I know," you brush your palm to the underside of his cock, and you could feel the girthy veins around it tense to your brief touch. "Where all that height went to." your tongue juts out to lick at your upper lip, a grin pulling on your face.
"Excuse me?" he attempts to argue, but his spine stiffens against the seat, a loud whimper breaking out of him, "Did you just—" fire crackles on his fingertips, his voice tuning high pitched while he tries with his whole strength not to buck against your hand. "Did you just call me short while—" another whine interrupt his words, just when you brush your palm deliberately along his shaft.
"Mhm," you nod, eyelashes flicking up to him, "Got a problem with that?"
Leo catches on that look on your face, and he swear—he could come just by staring at that eyes of yours.
"Yeah, I got a problem with that," he gathers his previous composure, sliding his hand to your hair, "I got a problem when you're not using that smart mouth for something useful," there it is, that familiar cocky Leo Valdez that always bullies you for any inconvenience you made.
"Come on," he licks his lips, voice shifting lower, "I'll guide you, pretty girl."
With the fingers collecting your locks in his palm, Leo slowly pushes you forward—a muffled whimper tumbling out when you leave a kiss on his aching tip. Then, still with your hands under his shaft, you start to widen your mouth and take him partly in. It's a bit hard to adapt to his girth, but you managed, with each reassuring coos he whispered to you.
"That's it," he huffs, "That's a good start," he couldn't take his attention off of yours. With your eyes fluttered shut, mouth partly full of his cock, and hair collected up in his hand. And when you grazes your tongue along the veins, he melts like a poodle.
"A-Ah, told you you've got a smart mouth—" it's addicting, to hear his sweet nothings when you explore his shaft like a popsicle. His slick liquids are coating the surface, and you suckle on every leftovers of release you could taste on him. It's sour, but it doesn't bother you much. Instead, you double down. Gliding your hands to his tight balls before squeezing them.
"Mmm—haah—!" instead of buckling against your mouth, he arches his back against the seat. Head thrown to the back while his mouth continues to sputter more heated whimpers.
"Fuck, yeah, just like that, bebè," his tug on your hair strengthens a slight, just so he could push you down on his cock fully. Just so he could hear you gag and whine below him, his pre-cum mixed with your drool dripping down your chin. "Atta girl." he murmurs in low bass, and suddenly—you feel his fat tip slamming against the roof of your mouth when your eyes widen.
Repeatedly, his tip snugs between the tightness of your throat, hard enough for him to feel every swallow you took— it's almost surreal, no one could explain the emotions he was going through as he lolls his head back, jaw parted, mewling your name as you glide your fingernails along his thighs, playing with him, stroking his length and suckling tight.
"You're—ah—too good at this, you know that right?" his words are a string of blurred rambles and deep whimpers. The sight of your head bobbing up and down till you take him all in, and at this point, he fully lost all control of his power. Flame crackles in the air, and he didn't know some of his high temperature also flows down to the blood gathering in his cock before you muffle and gag against him.
"Mhmm," you could feel your tears brimming in your lashes when he suddenly tastes too hot around your tongue. Yet you don't waste your effort, instead you suck him off violently now, twisting your tongue over the twitching veins as he cries and moan, the flesh of him is searing against your tastebud, but you swallow every hot cum he spurts out. Every buck of his hips against yours like he too had surrendered fully to the lust.
"Shit, I'm gonna, I'm gonna—" he gasps a loud one, right before bitting his lip harshly to stifle a cry down. He knows he's probably burning up your mouth now, but he just can't seem to control it. Not when you're so pliant and accepting of him. Not when he slaps the back of your throat and your eyes rolls back because of it. He's sure you're seeing stars right now.
"Dios, I'm gonna come—" he staggers in his breath. But you don't stop, if anything—you swallow him much deeper and faster. Being the one responsible for the cries escaping his mouth and the rising temperature in the cramped room. Your tongue swirls and your mouth sucks, and he's on the edge already.
"F-Fuck, a-ah—!" that over rush of pleasure happens when you redirect your hands to squeeze at his runny and tight balls—the effect is as you expected, maybe even better. Harsh and hot sprays of cum shoots into your throat, milking down your tongue. And you release your mouth with a wet slop! echoing in the room, saliva and thick whites glistening your lips. You thought it'd be over by now.
Well, maybe a giving a small peck at his tip is a fault. Because suddenly, sprays of warm whites shoots into your face. Directly. Painting some parts of your cheeks and your lashes before you blink in surprise.
Huh?
"Shit—lo siento, lo siento, dioses, estoy muerto," and Leo seems to realize that too with his babbling mouthful curses. Suddenly, he springs up from his laid position, leaning down to catch your messy face in his hands. "I'm sorry—" he wipes some of the dripping pleasure on your lashes, a frantic look adorning his face with that blushing cheeks and wide eyes. "A-Are you okay?"
Did he just came so hard that he literally painted your face with cum?
"Cariño, I swear, you can be mad at me—" all words are burned to ashes the moment you smash your lips in a mindless kiss. More like eating each other's faces as you surge your tongue deep in his cavern, ripping out a startled moan out of his pouting lips. The drops of cum on your face rubs partly on his nose, and the view is just a hot mess of pleasure.
"Ngh—mhm," his mouth falls and closes with every flick of your tongue, he could taste his own pleasure—and the sensation is like a mindfuck all over his concentration. Leo brings you upwards, tightening his hold on your cheeks while you mewled against his mouth. Your knees feel sore, not used to being on the ground for ten? Fifteen minutes straight? You don't know.
All you know is how good his groan vibrates into you when you palm his painfully tight cock once more. Rubbing it up and down as you slather his liquids all over his flesh, some on his thighs, some on his abdomen, it's just a mess at this point.
Leo bucks into you, "Mierda, ni siquiera sabía que podías ser así..." he inhales your exhale, taking your breath away before he bites on your bottom lip and twist your tongue too easily.
Your hand handles him with erratic speed now, eager to bring another release of pleasure. Another break of his walls. And when you finally sit fully on top of his lap, you can't help but direct the tip to your weak folds transparent to your damp panties. Even when your skirt is not that short, you must be so driven by your desire to start humping against his bare cock.
"O-Oh, gods, oh mamî—" Leo's cries are high pitched when you swallow the rasping gasps whole. His nails are digging a slight into your hair when he moves them, guiding your head to the side while he leans forward to steal more of each moans ridden out of you. You could feel the strain between his brows, his curls ticklish against your forehead before he pushes you to the seat's board. It's a faint slam, but nonetheless startles you while Leo continues to shorten every chance of breath you could have.
In retolt, your palm squeezes around his shaft—a rough and tight one, enough for him to dig his fangs into your bottom lip till you're sure it probably bled a hint of ache. Another spark of cum escapes his veins, ruining the skin of your chest with hot slicks spread like the ones on both of your faces. It's a real fucking mess, and you don't think anything could be better than this.
Leo pulls away with a tug on your bottom lip, which are now sore and red from his ravish. You couldn't even inhale when the air is too hot around you, your head swimming in flames while you feel like every touch of him is searing a mark into you. Sure, your eyes are still closed when he already opened his, and for a second, no exhale flowed out of you.
Leo's pupils dilates, because yeah—even he can lost his breath after that intense make out. His eyes tracked over your chest heaving up and down, and to his spots of release slicked on the surface of your beautiful and perfect skin. He just loves everything about you. So with a dart of his tongue, Leo leans in. Suckling on the traces of his pleasure on you, licking every mark clean with occasional nibbles on it. Making you arch and trash around under his cradle.
"A-Aaahn—!"
"Mhm, you're lucky I made the car soundproof." he groans a muffled one. Mouth far too focused on ravishing and drawing hickeys to your chest. While your back is against the board, Leo makes sure to keep your lower one upright, occasionally tracing small circles against your hip as if it could soothe you from moaning out loud.
"Leo, I wanna—" you know what should happens next, and you want it so badly for him to focus on your lower ache too. "Please—I wanna..."
"I don't hear her begging yet." Leo murmurs, eyes glazing upwards to yours in swirls of darkness engulfing his irises. It feels like he's consuming you, body and soul.
"Her?" you blink, tears from before dimming your eyes to glassy ones.
"Her." in span of fire eating up oak, Leo's fingers found your sensitive wetness underneath your skirt. Pressing to your squelching folds in spite of your undies, in fact, he relishes on that. Playing with your cute clit like he's fixing something in those automatons he has. Everything feels ten times more sensitive, especially with the warmth on his hand being borderline on injecting a flame.
"S-Shit, oh—" you blinds your eyes shut, drop of tears trailing down your cheeks. "Not there—ngh-aaah!" his middle finger teases your cavern, nudging it against your excited hole through the transparent fabric. Even with him not fully in you, it sucks him the moment he got too close and threatens to plunge his finger right there. With your sweet panties on.
He lost his mind, you see.
Leo clicks his tongue, lifting his head so he can tip his words right to your ear. "All I hear," he pinches the clit till your head throws against the board backward, seeing stars in your peripheral. "Is 'Leo, yeah, right there,'" his tone is deep, not because it's low bass or anything. But deep in a way that is full hoarse and invokes lust all through your veins, stemming in your heart with burning roots. "'Fuck me right there.'" he bites gently on your earlobe, and you feel it electrifies your body the same way he rubs his finger pad along your wanton slit.
"I think that's what she's telling me." his fangs are peeked out when he grins against you, it's a whole contrast. You, crying and moaning—while he's being all cocky and domineering. He has that complications, acting all nervous then suddenly bullying you through every shameless pleasure you're having.
"Please," you buckle against his searing hand, your slick coating his calloused digits in a way that makes you want rip your panties already.
"Leo, right there." your lashes flutters to focus on him, thousands of words stuck in your throat, and you hoped he could read them through your tears. "Fuck me right there, Leo."
... Crap.
Your body leaps forward, and you yelp and fall immediately—if it weren't for him handling you to sit properly on his lap. Leo is laid on the chair again, dark curls showered in sweat against the seat's head. Yet, all he focuses is on the harsh slide of your clad pussy against his bare cock, the shaft running along the slit as he suckles a fang on his bottom lip. Trying to resist and keep things in control.
He opens a drawer nearby, just at the center of the car's board before hoarding through it. You raised an eyebrow at his action, wondering why he's plunging his hand into the drawer instead of inside you.
Oops...?
It became clear to you once a small packet of protection is caught between his fingers. Swiftly, he tore the package's end with his teeth, right before pulling out the clad stretch and he catches it on his hand. The gesture is almost hypnotizing, you're very much aware of how wet you're suddenly becoming with your liquid now dripping on his lap.
"Last chance to back out." he says, but he knows you won't. Not with your impatient pussy beating its pulse against his abdomen, and your eyes glassy with desire and arousal. Still, he wants one last consent from you.
You open your mouth, attempting to string a response. Instead all that comes out are staggering breaths and muffled cries. So when your throat is locked, you move with your hand. Which is now resting against his shoulder. Slowly, like that one time he taught you, your finger taps against him.
"Yes." a morse code.
Leo sighs a long one.
"Tell me if it's too much." he mutters, eyes desperate and gentle when he tangles in yours. "Or," he smiles, surprisingly less cocky and more genuine, "If it's not enough."
Gently, so careful, he lifts you up by the hips. Pulling your panties down and guiding you upwards a slight to position you while you hold onto his shoulders. The tip creams out come slicks that falls underneath the condom's stretch. "Breathe with me, m'kay?" his voice is so soft, and you follow. Inhaling the same moment as he does when you feel the bulbous head sears in your folds. "Take it in."
Ticklish sting signals your entire body to a fight or flight mode. But you stay and bite your lip, focusing on his words to take it easy. To take him easy. "And out." he exhales, dragging you downwards through the flesh in slow motion. You need time to adapt and get used to all of this. Though it's proven difficult when pain mixes in with pleasure in your lungs.
"Hey, hey, focus on me." he assures, drawing small circles of comfort to your hips that crackles some seconds. It's not that hot arousing one you feel him mark onto you earlier, this one is plain warm—like the fireplace in cold winter.
"Let's go through this again, okay, cariño?" his words feels like a kiss to your sting, and you nod, your gaze speaking a secret language only he could understand.
"Alright," he mumbles, "In," you take a deep inhale, blinding your eyes shut just so you can focus on him and not the mix of emotions indescribable to your heat. It's only halfway now, you know by how his girth became more obvious against your clad walls.
"And out," finally, you're sat fully on top of him with his cock warming up and snuggling in your pussy muscles. It's breathtaking, but so fucking relieving. Like all the problems steamed off your back and flies to whatever hell it should be.
"See?" he coos, "It doesn't hurt at all, right?" you shake your head, and he lifts his head just to peck a fleeting kiss to your outer wrist.
Then he rolls his hips—just enough to make you gasp again—but keep it shallow and teasing.
"I’ll go as slow as you need," he whispers, "Or… we can stop."
"But if we keep going? I’m gonna love you so deep you forget your own name." He kisses once again at your wrist. "Promise."
You take opportunity at his moment to relax your muscles, to blink your eyes open and simply appreciate how wrecked he looks right now. You know you're no better though. Still, it gives you a heartwarming assurance, that all of this is mutual. That the love is mutual.
He knows you're strong—goddamn fierce, actually—but right now? You're allowed to be slow. Allowed to be soft. Allowed to need.
And if you needs him quiet? He’ll stay silent.
If you needs words? He’s got a thousand lined up just for moments like this. But mostly? He just wants you present. With him. Not running off in that pretty head of yours.
Just here.
With his name on your lips and his body part of yours for the first time ever.
"Can I," you mutter. "Can I move? I'm not gonna go too fast though, I'm... still getting used to this." a small laugh escapes you.
"Whatever you want, princessa." he smiles, faint dimples forming on his apple cheeks.
With the knowledge of a regular erotic reader and a complete virgin, you shift with his cock inside you a bit terribly. But it's not you if you don't learn quickly along the way. Slowly, you get the hang of it.
"Like that, exactly like that, bebè," he guides you too by helping you circle your hips and lines them up and down vertically. "Gods, you can jump on it and kill me and I still would think you can do no wrong." he nuzzles against your palm that has moved to caress his cheek, right before placing a small kiss on your hand.
Then he opens one eye just to wink at you, "Best way to go."
"Really?" it's not you if you dismiss a challenge as tempting as that one. So with a streak of tease curving your lips upwards, you grip your shoulder a lot stronger and let your hips do the talking.
You push a long smooth forward, falling a gasp when you feel him carve his nails on your hips as you grind against him. Testing the waters by taking notes of every strangled whimpers and groans breaking out of him. And you feel a bloom of satisfaction when he throws his head back.
"Holy fuck—" he curses out, trying his damn hardest not to dig at your hips and bounce you up and down his fat cock like he wanted to. Your body's whine is like a waterfall of elixir blessed to cure all his broken parts, yet his words are half sin when he darts out a tongue to gleam his grin, "This soon, bebè? Are you trying to prove me wrong or her wrong?"
At the exact moment, a squeal of pure filth rasps from the needy lips between your thighs. And with every attempted bounce you ride on him, an electric surge of lewdness strikes a slam to your clawing walls. Like your pussy is trying to suck the life out of him and lock him inside forever, like your bodies feel natural to be one.
Leaks of pre-cum trickles from your pussy lips, basking his brunette trails in covers of it. Even more so when your clit and slight traces of yours grinds against the travels. You curse out, your head tilting backwards as your eyes flutters meekly. "Aahn—ngh—Leo—"
"Come on," seeing your ass echo up and down with every slam is doing something to him, something crackling and dangerous. While he lets you take control of the cardio, Leo's hands are restless. It glides like a man starved to your breasts, pinching your nipples just to mock at the weary moan you induced. Then down so quickly to your puckering lips, slipping half his digits inside and collect your clit teasingly. It swells and tears up, turning red with the blood gathering in it making you weak and stumble above him.
"L-Leo—!"
"Mmnh, say my name again." he has the audacity to crack a laugh under you, the sound a melodious torture whispering naughts and searing flames to your skin. He takes his thumb and his finger to ripe apart your swollen folds, licking his lip at every spurt of slick crying out of them as his gaze is transfixed to it. It's addicting, even better than any projects or engines he worked on 24/7. Maybe he should replace you as his specialty now.
"Leo, gods—!" a muffled groan tumbles out of you, and you feel your inner muscles gathering up blood in them. Making you weak and pliant above him.
"Y-Yeah, gorgeous, fuck—you're squeezing me so hard," he rasps a long moan, his voice raw and broken as her walls clamp down around him—tight, hot, perfect.
He freezes for a second—fingers clenching the side of your hips—because if he doesn’t, he’s going to come right then and there. And no way in hell is that happening. Not when you're just starting to unravel.
So he counts backward from ten in Spanish. (Diez... nueve... ocho…)
And when he can trusts himself again?
He moves.
Slow at first—a long, deep glide that makes you sob into the heated air—but then faster. Not rough, never rough with you, but sure. Confident. Like every stroke is a promise: 'I'm here. You're safe. I’ve got you.'
"My princessa," his hand slides from your tearful clit to press onto the bulge evident against your abdomen. And the squeeze of your walls becomes tighter when he nudges a palm against your pubic bone.
You cry out his name in a loud whimper. Not only for the intense crash of his cock imprinted to your cervix, but also for the sudden faint but startling burn you felt when he presses a palm onto you.
"My perfect girl, my everything, my goddess—fuck," his head throws back, thrusting up too abruptly as his bulbous cock hit the sticky muscles surrounding your cervix, the tip bulging hot when he buckles up a sharp slam. "I'm gonna make you feel so good—I'm gonna—s-shit, ngh—o-oh—!"
"Leo, Leo, Leo..." you mumble out series of gullible wordings on his name, head far too blown out to think of anything clearly. Your nails etches in his shoulder blades, making him arch under you before you lift a bounce on him, "I don't think I can—" you feel a surge of stars clouding your sight, blurry in tears of your mixed pain and pleasure.
"I know, bebè, I know," he shudders, obvious warmth forming into hue of flames on his curls. His calloused fingers keeps your body to not fall on him, bobbing your hips up and down to his hard cock, "But you can take it, just a bit longer."
"N-No," you stagger a breath, sniffling a cry brimming in your nose, "That's not—f-fuck—!" and that repeated slam of his cock is starting to burn your throat, the echo of skin to skin slapping is becoming a hazy sound in your ears. Yet, you're still able to comprehend one thing.
"Leo," you managed to say, although hoarse with his heat flowing inside you to the brim. "I think the condom broke."
"Oh." he blinks a thousand times.
"Oh." his eyes widens.
"Mierda," he rubs his hands on his face, as if he could wipe the embarrassment off, "Leo Valdez, eres un pervertido estúpido y vergonzoso." he curses under his low breath, hips surrendering to the seat. His cock warming halts inside you, unsure to succumb for release or pull out safely.
"You have another one, right?"
Leo smiles nervously.
You pick up your weight with his hands helping you lift, and the view below you is nothing short of a crumbling mess, one that arouses you even more if that's possible. The protection sure is leaking, burnt off on the top, and the tip stutters out heated slicks that shoots weakly.
So he broke it by setting the condom on fire?
Huh...
"I'll take over this time." you flick off the useless stretch of fabric, throwing it somewhere you wouldn't care where it dangles.
"Oh, dios," his breath runs shakily, eyes dilating even more when you settle above his red and bulging cock, repressed with straight up hotness in the tip. Then, with your slow movement that seems to irk him, he huffs a stagger when you sink down on him. Your nails clawing in deeper in his shoulders, and your moan bellowing deeper while you arches.
The thought of you taking him raw is already a heart arrest to his dreams, and now it's actually happening?
He can just come right on the spot immediately.
"You—aah—are so unserious." your eyes flaps close for a brief second, soaking in the warmth he infects you by filling your entire walls—you're sure it moves differently now that this is the second time. More easy to slither in since your muscles probably shapes the way his cock does. "How many chances are there in the world for a condom to get burnt?"
"Not many, for sure." he knows you're probably a bit pissed off at him currently. So he attempts to goad you by his usual charming smile, pearly whites peeking through his cheer. "But, there's also minimal chances in the world to get fucked by my best friend."
At that, you stutter in your pace—though you're quick enough to hide it by rolling your hips then jolting above him. Making him wither and whine under you.
"Leo," you call out, voice glinting low while you track the sweat and occasional sparks of pyro jumping from his skin. The linen of his abs are burning and prominent, in a way has drawn the details of each mole and hue instead of the muscle. "You sure as hell ruined a lot of things today."
Step number one on breaking down Leo Valdez's walls: challenge him to admit his own greatest fears.
"W-Wha—" his voice is cut off when another slap of skins echo in the cramped room. His lips falls apart, unable to say any noise before he registers your nudge. "No! What do you—aah-ngh—" you are cruel. Far too cruel to test him on 'what are we?' questions and confrontations about the cross they've discarded now. Far too cruel when he can't even speak the next cue when you simply take his breath away. His cock twitching and smashing against your cervix, and you—somehow—looks like you can stay calm through it all while he's an absolute pathetic mess.
"First, you ruin our friendship," you hoarse out, leaning down to reach his level and near your lips to his ear. "And you acted like a self righteous bastard earlier," he gasp to the crook of your neck, gliding his hands to grasp at your torso—cradling till your chests are mushing against one another. "You can't even control yourself not to cum like a dog in heat." you chuckle a breathless one.
Sure enough, your prediction is correct. He always burn his hair off and have his skin rise up abnormally in temperature, even his cock is searing hot in your sticky pussy—that's the reason why he broke the protection after all. And he lets out that little broken whine, "I'm gonna, I'm gonna, fuck—mhm—gonna—"
His light brown eyes shoots wide.
And you lift your hips just in time when both of you resides in that sweet fulfilling pleasure, washing you in immense warmth that weakens your spine and drops your jaw. Even you can't help but whine and yield out a moan, resulting from the chaotic yet perfect sex both of you will probably only had once in a lifetime. With him. With you.
"Lo siento—" suddenly, through your blurry peripherals and ringing ears, a crackle of his pyro tendencies acts up out of control. You'd thought that maybe he did it on the air, on the seat, or maybe even your skin.
The radio right on the center of the headboard? It's news telling voice for a music channel blurts out in the car. The loud boom startles you till you glance at the device from your laid position—fully on top of him. You were about to ask him how the tech device operates on its own without a brain-ware, but Leo only spouts another, "Lo siento—"
Right before the radio static churns off. And works of pyro-manship blurts out of the screen, burning off the screen till it's having a seizure of green screen then turning off fully.
... Seriously, is your pussy that special or something to the point he broke a condom and the frickin' radio in span of five minutes?!
"Cariño, I'm—" but another thing came up to your attention, something more urgent. He may be able to suppress it at first, but after the whole degrading and bullying you did on him—it turns him into a weak pathetic disaster. Weak enough to come like a dog in heat and pathetic enough to sob into your shoulder, just like each words you spitted at him. "Gods, shit, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I just..."
Leo finally cracks, "I wanted you for so long, needed you ever since I see you laugh at my awful puns, dreamed of you ever since you argued with me and you actually made great points at that—" he whimpers, tightening his hold around the rib housing your frantic heart. "I was a dick, a coward for acting like I don't care about you. Like I don't think about your wellbeing more than mine. Shit, mamî, I'm just so—"
He pulls away from your neck, glassy eyes meeting your intense ones.
"I thought," he murmurs, trying every breath he has to steady his voice while you blink at him, not in confusion—but something borderline on reverent. "I could just ignore my heart and listen to my brain. Logic's always gonna keep you alive, so I tried to support you with your crushes, try not to think of what we could be if you can just—" he inhales full of trembles, "Notice me."
"So, yeah," his palm, no longer abnormally till it imprints to your skin like before. It slips to your cheek like comforting warmth, like what Leo had always been to you. "I ruined our friendship," his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, but his eyes are a gentle anchor on meeting yours. "Because when you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody. You want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."
He exhales, having finished releasing all the weights trampled deep within his heart. Given now that you notice how it starts to slow down. Like this moment doesn't need to be dramatic or full of fireworks, it can be peaceful and calming. Especially with the previous heat now shifting into gentle warmth blanketing as how a cocoon would around you.
In finalization, you decide for yourself. For the hidden waves of beats that always seem synchronize with his own pulse. For how it only gets to slow down right at this moment, with him too.
"Come on up and get dressed." you rise up from you position. Breaking off the silence, not out spite for the comfort or the resting chance. But for something you always wanted to say to him.
"Uh... for what?" he stutters, and you definitely dumbed down this man for now.
Your lips curves up a smile, as easy and genuine as the new understanding you connected in your synchronized pulses. You already finished wearing your bra properly while he's still wide eyed like a deer in headlights. "I'm taking you out on a date."
A/N: Many in the fandom noticed that Pale, Pale Moon is werewolf coded, so I threw my hat in the ring, and made these Sinners AU headcanons, where Pearline is a werewolf. I have more AU headcanons planned for spooky season with other characters. This is my first time doing something like this, so it may not be my best.
CW: 18+, Implications and references to body horror, cannibalism, and gore.
Werewolf!Pearline Headcanons
“I wanna howl to the moon.”
🌕On the surface, Pearline is a beautiful, composed and stylish woman. She’s a hardworking sharecropper by day, and spends her time dancing, singing, and performing in Juke Joints by night, all the while being cursed with a mysterious affliction. When the full moon shines in the night sky, she transforms and embodies red nature tooth and claw.
🌕The closer it gets to a full moon, the more her hunger and desire become intertwined. Her longing for sex, freedom, novelty, increases tenfold, but she also craves something pure and raw. Sometimes, after a performance, when she takes Sammie into a room in the back of a Juke Joint, she has to resist sinking her teeth into her sweet little Preacher boy.
🌕On nights of the full moon, when it’s time, she makes her way into the woodlands of the Delta, strips and bathes her bare skin in moonlight. She remembers every aching part of the transformation. Every crack of her joint, stretch of her limbs and flesh, is pure agony. Her only solace from pain is that she lets her mind succumb to sweet darkness.
🌕Sometimes, she wakes up naked, covered in blood and viscera, with the faint aftertaste of blood and flesh lingering in her mouth. She doesn’t remember her time as a werewolf, but the memories of mauling, feasting and killing, come back to her like remnants of a bloody, violent nightmare.
🌕After several gruesome discoveries of bodies mauled, half-eaten, or meat devoured clean from the bone. Terror began growing around Mississippi, there was a werewolf in the Delta.
🌕As Hysteria spread, some people were foolish enough to go looking for her with pitchforks and torches. Most never returned or were found, and if they were found, they were torn limb from limb.
🌕Pearline is not completely invulnerable, she has her weaknesses, she has scars on her body from more savvy hunters, nicked by a silver weapon here and there. Luckily, she hasn’t encountered any arrows dipped in Wolfsbane, that’s fatal.
🌕When the people along the Mississippi Delta look up at the full moon, they know the echoes of an eerie howl are soon to follow.
