Pairing: Greens
Notes: Anyway based sometime during MTH/ TEF verse. This is so self-indulgent, it's not even funny.
Song you should probably listen to: Prisoner - The Weeknd, Lana Del Rey

"Fuck it," she loosed a sigh and she gripped him by his hair and pulled him to her.

The air around them exploded.

Their lips pressed together roughly. He released a groan as he fisted the cloth at her waist and yanked her closer. Her tongue slipped between his lips— one that had plagued his thoughts. He'd thought of her tongue more than enough times after she showed him that trick. And after the cherry stems.

He'd thought of what it could do if they did eventually get here. How it'd curl around his own— twisting, pressing. How she'd moan and turn her head, creating a different angle for him to taste her. How girlish and flushed her face would look as they pulled away, her lips slightly parted, that sliver of pink still visible. He'd unapologetically allowed his mind to venture to what it could do afterwards.

Their hips were pressed much, much too close to each other now, both bodies pulsing with a craving, a need. As they both noted the very evident way their bodies reacted to each other, their ferocity increased. She actually did end up angling her head, and he kissed her harder. He caught her lower lip between his teeth and pulled his head back just a little bit. She then made a sound—

He pushed her back against the wall, roughly, ripping her jacket off with no amount of gentleness, and let it fall to the ground. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and roughly pulled in over his head. Her shirt followed— leaving her in a black bra. Her hands were low on his waist, moving to his shoulders and digging her nails in them. Only thing that could be heard was their labored breaths. His hands slid down…

God.

He gripped her legs, bringing them up, up, up. Her body slid up against the wall as he wrapped them around him. He pulled away— to get a good look at her.

God.

This view didn't match what he'd imagined before by a long fucking shot.

Her eyes were only slightly open, just a bit of her striking green eyes visible between her low lids— like she was in a daze. Her cheeks were faintly flushed. Her mouth was partially open, her breaths coming out in hazed sighs— not ragged breaths, they were even. Her chest brushed his every time she breathed, and all he could do was stare and stare and stare.

God.

It wasn't long before he dove back in, claiming her mouth in another open kiss. She moaned this time, one of her hands moving up by his ear— her pinky curling around his lobe. Her tongue continued to twist in such exquisite ways against his.

He bitterly thought where the hell she could have learned to do things like that. His hands on her hips tightened. Their bodies squished closer together, both of them letting out sounds in unison at the even closer contact.

In the back of their minds— most of their minds remaining very focused on each other— there was a wonder of what they were going to do about this

Her hands slid down to his belt as his fingers curved around the hem of her jeans. She moved so her forehead rested on his shoulder— to better see her hands unclasping his belt. He only breathed against her hair, not needing to see the buttons on her jeans to undo them.

"Move, move—" she shoved her hands and hips against his body, causing them both to topple to the floor. His hands moved into the back of her jeans, sliding them off of her. She groaned into his mouth. He smirked.

Everything moved faster after that.

First it was his hands— over her, in her.

Her hands were on him, around him.

Then it was his mouth, his tongue.

Her lips, her tongue—

A frequent thought was in the back of their minds, but they proceeded regardless— no regrets, no guilt.

What the fuck are we going to do about this?