#and PLEASE. LET. THEM. JUST INTERACT AND TALK WITH EACH OTHER. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

levanterhaze · 5 months ago

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gameboy ― bangchan

♡ ― 󠀬󠀬[ minors do not interact! ] fratboy!bangchan x f!reader . unprotected sex, oral sex (f. receiving), overstimulation, graphic sex details, if you don't feel comfortable, don't read! fingering (f. receiving), just pure smut.

♡ synopsis ― Bangchan is the campus playboy—charming, cocky, and infuriatingly irresistible. One reckless, drunken night leads to a secret you swore you'd never have. Now, hating him is harder than keeping him your dirty little secret.

[ 5.7k words ]♡― i wrote this in one night, i think i was inspired or something. it's been a while since i've written, but i found this one interesting. i'm still thinking about doing a second part!

♡― THE PLAYLIST.

♡―[part 2]

The music was a bit too loud, but that's just the vibe, right?

Eunji was super focused on her school skirt she had borrowed from Sohee, working hard to recreate Britney Spears' iconic style. The theme was Y2K, and the fraternity was buzzing with Cher Horowitz, Paris Hilton, and Beyoncé energy.

You took a refreshing sip of your drink while your friends spread out to mingle. Sohee was caught up in the moment, and she and Minho, her boyfriend, shared a lovey-dovey moment. Eunji was telling someone how tired college was making her, that she barely had time to go to a spa, which, for Eunji, was total nonsense.

You were sharing a room with the two of them, which was very fortunate as they were both top-notch people. You scanned the place, looking for something or someone. It was a bad habit, you knew. Going to frat parties meant sharing the same square metre as your nemesis – or nearly so.

Your friends were aware of your mutual dislike of each other, but as you couldn't seem to avoid going to parties or socializing with your friends, you made a conscious effort to be the bigger person and not let his presence upset you. That said, it wasn't always easy.

Bangchan got what he wanted most of the time. He was arrogant and overbearing, which drove you crazy. As a woman who fought hard against all kinds of ignorance, it was gross to see him bragging around campus as if he were the last man in the world.

What was even more annoying was that all the girls fell for his bullshit.

Sohee, who was the most blunt of the three, said this was "suppressed horniness" and that the moment you and Bangchan were alone, all this animosity would turn into libido and it would all be sorted in one good fuck. But that was far from happening if it was up to you. "Now we're talking," Hyunjin appeared in your line of sight. With his long black hair slicked back, he looked like a slightly slutty version of Patrick Bateman, with fake blood on his jaw and chest. "You look good.

With your hands on your waist, you turned around to show how much effort you'd put into your costume.

As someone deeply involved in theatre, you are always fully committed to any challenge. Whether it's a play or a fraternity party, you commit wholeheartedly. After much thought, you decided that you would be Suki. The lilac blouse was small and suited your upper body perfectly. The pink leather pants were almost identical, ending just below your bottom and with garters that went down to your thighs, exposing your skin by just a few inches. Suki is a sexy and iconic character, which is a perfect fit for you.

"You know it's not Halloween, right?" you shouted over loud music. Hyunjin gave a casual shrug and smiled, showing his teeth.

"There's always an excuse to dress up as Patrick Bateman."

There was a DJ at the party, apparently Minho's friend Jisung. He cranked up the music, and everyone gravitated towards the centre of the room, where most people were dancing. It was reggaeton and all the girls were rolling around and gettin down on the floor. Sohee was dancing with her boyfriend, whose hands were on her waist and whose face was close to hers, looking very pleased.

Eunji put her back to yours, glass in hand, and you danced together. As the alcohol took over your bodies, it was hard to hold back.

The beat was infectious and the energy was almost impossible to control. You danced together for three more songs until the alcohol had worn off and you desperately needed to find a toilet.

"Wait for me!" you shouted as you climbed the wooden stairs to the second floor access. It wasn't your first time in this dorm, but the drink had clouded your mind and all the doors simply looked the same.

You played a quick round of eenie, meenie, miney, mo, your finger landing on one of the many identical doors. Without hesitation, you turned the handle and pushed it open, expecting to find a bathroom. What you found instead stopped you dead in your tracks.

It wasn’t the bathroom. Not even close.

A girl was kneeling in the corner of the room, her blonde hair held by thick hands and enlarged veins. Your first impulse was to close the door, but for some odd reason you didn't. Standing there, eyes downcast and lips hanging open, was Bangchan.

You would never have believed it if you'd seen it.

The girl was working really hard, loudly moaning as she put it in her mouth. You stood there watching and thinking about what you saw. Bangchan had his dark hair covering his face, but then he lifted his head and you could see the thick veins on his neck.

Maybe the alcohol was having an effect. You tripped over yourself, making him look at you.

Your eyes went wide and you spun on your heels, running in the opposite direction.

"Oh no, oh shit."

At that moment, a girl came out of the bathroom, and you thanked God for finally finding a place where you could lock yourself in. Your cheeks were flushed and your skin prickled. Oh my god. That was too embarrassing. It wasn't something you should have seen, and even worse, it wasn't something you should have enjoyed witnessing.

After using the bathroom and washing your face with cold water, you went back into the living room and pretended that nothing had happened. If you drank enough, the sight of Bangchan groaning would quickly fade from your mind.

"You won't believe this," Eunji shouted, laughter spilling out with every word. "Some guy just stripped down to nothing but a cowboy hat and is now giving everyone his best Magic Mike impression."

Sure enough, there he was—a member of the basketball team, stark naked save for the cowboy hat perched jauntily on his head, gyrating in the middle of the dance floor like he was auditioning for Vegas.

"That's... dedication," you muttered, unable to tear your eyes away from the chaotic spectacle.

"That's fucking insane," Felix chimed in, suddenly materializing beside Hyunjin. He was dressed as a somewhat disheveled Romeo, complete with a feathered cap that looked suspiciously askew. His grin was as bright as the party lights.

"Is it?" Hyunjin asked dryly, eyeing the cowboy dancer like he was trying to calculate how much alcohol it would take to get someone to that point. "Seems on-brand for him."

"You know that guy?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Hyunjin shrugged. "Not well enough to explain this."

Felix laughed, holding up a drink. "I don't know, kind of feels like art to me. Pure, unfiltered expression."

"Expression, my ass," Eunji snorted. "I give him five more minutes before campus security steps in."

Something caught your eye from across the room. Like a moth lured by a flame, your eyes found him. Bangchan was coming down the stairs with a girl in a Christina Aguilera costume. Her breasts barely tucked into her low-cut top, while he was now shirtless, wearing only an open sweatshirt over his abs.

Fucking ridiculous.

"Hyunjin!" you shouted, needing to get away from there as quickly as possible so that he wouldn't see you. You could picture the teasing or judgy looks he would give you. "Do you want to go with me to get a drink?" your voice came out sounding a bit desperate.

He was making his way through the crowd.

"The table's just over there, go get yourself," Hyunjin grumbled, but you rolled your eyes and took him by the hand.

"I'm asking you to come with me. Shut up and move."

The boy couldn't avoid it because you were pulling him through the crowd.

When you got to the table, you filled a cup with beer and drank it all in one go. Hyunjin raised an eyebrow, shocked at how determined you were. The second time, you were about to put the beer straight to your lips, but your friend was quicker and took it out of your hands.

"Okay. I think you've had enough."

You looked at your friends, and saw that Bangchan was looking at you and Hyunjin. There was something unusual in his gaze, something you couldn't and didn't want to understand. But something was causing you to feel uneasy. Especially in your panties.

You noticed the strange movement because in a second he was nowhere to be found. In the crowd, you saw Bangchan coming towards you.

“Hyun. Kiss me.”

Hyunjin froze, his brow arching high enough to vanish beneath his dark fringe. “Wait, what did you just say?”

“I need you to kiss me,” you repeated, your voice steady but your eyes darting toward the crowd. “Like, now.”

His hand stalled mid-motion, the glass he’d been holding clinking softly as he set it on the table. “What’s going on with you today?” he asked, studying you like you’d just sprouted another head. “Is this some kind of joke?”

“Hyunjin, seriously,” you hissed, stepping closer, lowering your voice so only he could hear. “Just act. I need you to do this for me. Now. Please.”

He blinked at you, clearly taken aback, before his gaze narrowed slightly. “This better not be a setup for something ridiculous,” he muttered, the corners of his mouth twitching. “But fine. If it’s that important...”

The boy shrugged. He was surprised by the situation, but he would never refuse a demand for a kiss, even if it was a fake one. Hyunjin grabbed your face and pulled you into a solid kiss. There was no tongue, and there wasn't much feeling either. There was no excitement or the usual growing heat between you. But that didn't mean your friend wasn't a good kisser.

You kept going for a few seconds, until you needed to catch your breath and pushed him away by squeezing his shoulder a little. Hyunjin raised his eyebrows and shrugged. A girl walked past you, looking surprised. One of Hyunjin's friends called out to him, and then he left.

You hadn't a clue what you were doing. The idea after executing it seemed like a disaster. Kissing your friend to throw Bangchan off sounded better in your head.

"You sure love being the center of attention, don’t you?"

The voice that followed caught you off guard, smooth and laced with confidence. It sent a shiver down your spine, but you quickly shrugged it off.

"Funny, coming from you," you shot back, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm. He couldn’t see your face, but the eye-roll in your voice was impossible to miss.

And to be honest with himself, he could imagine a bunch of other things, too.

Receiving a blowjob from a student in his room was nice, but what made him come was having you watching. All this mutual hate made him more excited. It was like a competition, and every day he got closer to scoring.

He couldn't ignore your figure as you walked by, the way your pants clung to the curves of your body. Seeing you there, watching, made him think about doing all sorts of things, but none of them involved those pants.

"Kissing my friends in front of me? Bold move." He laughed at the look of disgust on your face. “If you wanted to join in, sweetheart, you could’ve just said so." His voice dropped, low and smooth, as he leaned closer. You could feel the dampness of his plump lips on your skin.

Frustrated by the interaction, you spun around and averted his gaze.

"You’re so full of yourself, it’s gross" But it didn't matter. The more you talked, the more he enjoyed himself. "And you're a disgusting, perverted..."

"If I'm all that, then why didn't you close the door, hmm?" He shot back, his smirk widening.

You were at a loss for words, your mind scrambling to form a coherent thought. Bold didn’t even begin to describe him. Bangchan wiped his lips with an infuriating nonchalance, stepping closer until the air between you was practically charged.

“Admit it,” he murmured, his voice low and dangerously smooth. “You wanted to be her, didn’t you?” Your eyes widened. "I know you did. Yeah. You watched 'cause you liked what you saw. You wanted it to be your lips wrapped around my cock.”

"You're..."

“Save it,” he interrupted with a cocky smirk, tilting his head slightly. “Don’t waste your breath. If you really want to find out, meet me there.”

He turned and walked away, leaving you standing there, your pulse pounding in your ears. The sight of his broad shoulders and that silver chain resting against his toned abdomen only made things worse.

This was insane. Your head spun, and it wasn’t from the booze. His words, his presence, everything about him was too much—and yet, your body betrayed you.

Did you want to find out?

The whispers from theater rehearsals echoed in your mind. The girls who couldn’t stop talking about him, the things he supposedly did, the way he made them feel. Was he really that good? Was he as intoxicating as he seemed when you caught that glimpse earlier?

If none of that made sense, then why did your body tell you otherwise?

So you walked among a crowd of people. The noise of your thoughts overwhelmed the music. With each step, you found a reason to quit. Your friends were having fun, and they probably wouldn't miss you for a few minutes, right? What was wrong with you?

How could you even think about having sex with Bangchan?

Three doors were closed, but the same one was open. You closed your eyes, believing you had time to give up. But your body didn't cooperate. You had to feed the heat coursing through your body, otherwise you'd burn up — and you couldn't let that happen.

The room was dark when you pushed open the door. Your eyes scanned the darkness until you found him sitting on the edge of the bed. Bangchan's gaze conveyed surprise. It was a shot in the dark. He didn't think you would come.

For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a charged silence that seemed louder than words. The dim light made everything sharper—the way his chest rose and fell, the way his eyes darkened as they lingered on you.

Your heart hammered in your chest, indecision clawing at you. Turning on your heel, you made a move to leave, but before you could take a full step, Bangchan’s hand wrapped around your wrist, firm yet electrifying.

“This is a dumb decision.”

"But here you are." Bangchan hesitated. The sight of your soft, cherry-painted lips looked so tempting that he could think of only one thing: devouring you. "Fuck it."

He reached back and clicked the door shut, the sound echoing in the heavy silence. You noticed the way his forearm flexed but quickly looked away, catching something else in his eyes instead—something raw, something dangerous.

“So,” he murmured, stepping closer, his intense gaze locking onto yours. “You know what?”

You swallowed hard, retreating step by step until your back hit the desk, the cool surface grounding you against the heat of his presence.

“What?” you asked, your voice barely steady. Holding his gaze felt impossible, especially when every nerve in your body screamed at you to close the gap.

But you didn’t move—not yet. Even though all you wanted was to tear down the distance and let the fire between you consume everything.

Bangchan’s hand found your stomach, his thumb brushing over the bare skin with maddening precision, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a ripple of heat through your body that settled low in your core.

Before you knew it, you were perched on the edge of the table, legs parted just enough to let him step between them. His presence filled the space around you, his confidence suffocating in the most infuriating way.

He took his time, gently touching your skin with his knuckles, brushing them over your arms, until he leaned forward and placed his lips on your jaw. The tingling sensation of his lips on your skin was like taking an opiate. You felt nothing and everything at the same time.

His breath fanned your skin as he kissed the spot just below your ear, drawing a soft gasp from you. He paused, his lips trailing to your jawline, and his voice, low and rough, broke the silence. "I wished it was you. With your pretty little mouth around me. Thinking about you made me come. So fucking hard."

A sob escaped your lips. The words were painful for your sore body. His tongue crawled over your chin. Bangchan held your face with one hand, making you stare into his eyes. Naked and raw. "You like that, hmm? D’ya like knowing that I think ‘bout you?” You wanted to fight back. You didn't want to let him dominate you.

“You're fucking ridiculous.”

Bangchan’s lips curled into that infuriatingly cocky smile, the one that set your nerves on fire.

That's his girl. With a clever mouth.

“Yeah, is that so?” He sucked on your lip, pulling you to him in painstaking haste.

“Yes.” You moaned copiously. You hissed, though the conviction in your voice wavered as his hand slid up your thigh, slow and measured. His knuckles brushed the soft skin there, and the ache he left in your wake was unbearable. With his other hand, he circled your inner thigh, climbing achingly up to your cunt.

“I want you to say that again when I make you cum. Mmm, what ya say?” He murmured, his lips brushing your ear as his other hand settled firmly on your hip. A low laugh rumbled in his chest as a shaky moan slipped from yours, unbidden but impossible to hold back.

His hand inched higher, and you fought to keep your composure, though the heat pooling low in your stomach made it a losing battle.

“I fuckin' hate you.” you spat, though your breathless tone robbed it of any real venom.

“We'll see about that.”

His words were a promise, cocky and assured, and without leaving room for an answer, he devoured your mouth with devotion. Both bodies undulated against each other, desperate for friction, for warmth. Bangchan spread your thighs, pushing you backwards. It was so intense that your back was arching over, the two of you battling for control.

It wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claim. His hands moved with purpose, gripping your thigh and pulling you closer as his body pressed into yours, the heat between you like a live wire. The table groaned beneath you as he guided you back, his palm sliding up to part your legs further, making room for him to settle between them.

Your back arched against the cool surface, the contrast of heat and cold heightening every sensation. His lips left yours only to trail down your jaw, his breath hot and uneven as it ghosted over your skin. The tension in the air was suffocating, an unspoken challenge lingering between each frantic touch.

It was a fight neither of you was willing to lose, and yet, the way his hands moved, the way his lips devoured, it was clear he wasn’t about to let you win.

Your hands reached for the sweatshirt on his broad, muscular shoulders and tossed it to the floor. The gap between kisses was long enough for you to lift your own top and rip it off eagerly. You could have sworn you heard an almost beastly growl emanating from Bangchan, something completely charged with lust.

A large, calloused hand grabbed your throat, making you choke. His finger pressed against your lip, which you licked religiously, giving him a taste of what was coming. Bangchan pressed your body until you collided with the wall and your hands clung to the rim of the table. And in due time he nibbled your tit, snaking his tongue around it, savoring the tenderness of your skin.

You bit your lip down and held back a moan. Your gut rippled like the ocean waves as the intoxicating rush grew in your belly, down your legs, and scorched your toes.

You felt his hand come close to your wet core and your whole body went on alert. Bangchan bit your nipple and looked at you only to see the girl with her lips wide open, eyes bright and flushed cheeks.

This sight could kill him.

Just as he was about to come to your lips again, a knock sounded at the door. You instinctively ducked behind him, your heart hammering in your chest "Oops, sorry man!" The boy's voice echoed through the room, and with a snap, the door slammed shut.

A rush of adrenaline surged through you—not from what was happening, but the brief panic of being caught. It was ridiculous, but the sensation gripped you harder than you’d like to admit.

"Shit, I’ll lock it."

Biting your lip at the image of the man walking to the door and then to you. His lips swollen from kissing your body, the marks of nails on his chest, his messy hair, it was a perfect match.

"You know what, I'm rethinking the whole pant thing. Maybe I'll fuck you in 'em." Before he could finish, you cupped his face in both hands, stopping him in his tracks. His eyebrow quirked in interest, a silent question hanging in the air.

“I just remembered,” you said with a mischievous glint in your eyes. “A few minutes ago, you were, well... y'know. Right there.”

You both glanced toward the corner of the room, the absurdity of the situation hitting you at the same time. And, with a shared moment of clarity, laughter bubbled out of you, the tension briefly breaking.

"Right.'" He captured your mouth. Bangchan said, that familiar cocky smirk now full force. “I can fuck you anywhere,” he kissed you again, and then you lost your breath. "the backseat of my car," Again a kiss. "Any fucking place. But we can start here."

In a daze, you clung to each other like two animals. Every second you begged for air, he devoured your mouth more and more. His nimble hands fought against your pants. He wanted to touch you, to feel you.

Growling, he added. "Lift your hips for me."

You, overtaken by lust, quickly bent down on the table so that he could unbutton your pants and pull them all the way down, past your boots, which also reached down to the other side of the bedroom.

Bangchan held the back of your knees and marveled at the sight of your bare body. It was like a damn mirage. The skimpy pink panties were nothing, showing all your dampness. There was no trace of embarrassment on your face, just an unbridled urge to be taken by him.

Absorbed to your body, Bangchan held your neck with both of his hands, this time tilting your body backwards. With his own body, he splayed your legs with his free hand. Your intimacies were bare, your body bathed in the dim light streaming through the nearby window.

He captured your mouth and ran his fingers over the cloth. He squeezed his fingertips against your clit, making your clenched teeth grind together. Feeling his hand around your nape of the neck, the lack of oxygen in your lungs and the short circuit from the friction of his hand down there was electrical.

Bangchan wriggled over the fabric in slow, painful circular motions. He was excruciatingly hard inside the sweatpants. He wanted to take off and make a mess of you, but first he wanted to relish every second and push you to the limit.

"My God." Words slipped from your lips, preaching to the divine, as you felt yourself being ravished.

Bangchan stretched the fabric and stroked the core with his fingers, wetting them without caring. How he looked at you, how he looked at your tight pussy was erotic. The noises you made when he slid his fingers through your labia and then threatened to push in two fingers at the one time. It was the sensation near death. You could feel an orgasm coming gradually, in heavy, lusty waves.

If he didn't stop teasing you, you'd come too fast.

"Hang in there, baby." He brushed a finger across your lips, sliding them into your warm, wet mouth. Everything was intensified by the endearing pet name. You got proof that the rumors were true. "Spread for me... Like that." You raised your legs and placed your feet on the table, giving him a full view of your body.

You could feel the wetness everywhere. Bangchan took two fingers in your mouth and let you suck them like a piece of candy. Without taking your eyes off him for a second, you went along with it.

"Good girl."

And with the same fingers, he delved into you. His fingers in the precise curl, in the precise place that made you cry out. And if the music hadn't been deafening, everyone at the party would have heard you moaning under his fingers.

By sucking on your lower lip, he began a unique rhythm. According to the rhythm of your body snaking around him, Chan went harder and faster. Your lips opened impulsively, flowing under his. Wide-eyed, your face froze into an ethereal feature, fogged with bliss.

You took hold of his wrist, the hand in which he was thrusting into you, and forced him to go faster. You desperately wanted - needed - to reach the body-rattling orgasm. It was already becoming impossible to hide the screams that tore from your throat. He was just very skilled at doing it and left you craving more.

“Bangchan...” A pitying look on your face made him break out into a maniacal smirk. To hear his own name coming from your mouth was like a narcotic being shot into his veins. He wanted better, he wanted you to realize what you had done to him.

Letting go of your throat, which until then had been under his grasp, Bangchan got down on his knees and dived into your pussy. You groped your hand to stop yourself from bawling. Your raw nerves were on edge and any more stimulation would make you burst. But he was relentless. With his savvy tongue, he outlined movements on your clit, leaving your moistness to rub through his lips and all over your core.

“Shit, shit, shit...” You purred. Suddenly, holding onto the dark strands of the boy in front of you, bringing your body closer, provoking more friction. Bangchan took advantage of every second, kissing and suckling your vulnerable flesh, swirling around your core and tongue teasing your insides.

You were rolling on his face. Sweat trickled down your spine and temples. Incoherent utterances came from your lips as muffled moans tore from Bangchan's deep throat. That pain was building, growing in your stomach. Your body was moving in an illogical way and Bangchan had to place his palm on your lower stomach to keep you from moving.

And that's when, with his mouth still on your cunt, he pinched your clit, making you seize up. The orgasm struck you hard, spewing electric waves throughout your body, leaving you sluggish and weak. Bangchan kept hold of your body as you fell apart, an disembodied vision.

You cried out his name as you came and he made you swallow every single moan.

“Mmm, you're so fucking hot when you cum for me.”

You sat on the edge again, spreading Chan's arm muscles. Looking down, you caught yourself wondering at the sight of his hard cock framing the edge of his pants like a carving, too beautiful to just look at.

Your hands went down to the edge of the white sweatpants he was still wearing - quite unfair, given that you were only wearing a pair of panties that were now barely fit for anything. A cocky smile hung on the man's lips. He enjoyed it with his hands on the table as you took it off, gawping at the size of it. The girth. The form. It was surreal.

Bangchan was holding back. He'd dreamt of having your hands and mouth around his cock for a very long time. And now, you were there, stroking him back and forth, in a slow, excruciating rhythm. He could let you have a taste and get on your knees to him. He'd fuck your mouth so relentlessly that you'd never have another smart-ass word for him. You'd always remember that one moment.

But he was overwhelmed by the mirage of your body and the sounds it caused in you.

“Oh, fuck.” A guttural moan broke from his lips. With his mouth open, he looked at where you were fucking him, your soft hand stroking his length. It was too much. He wasn't going to last. “I need you to stop.”

“Why?”

Chan squeezed your thighs together, hating himself for not feeling your touch where he needed it most.

“As much as I want you on your knees for me, I really need to fuck you.”

You chewed your lip, sensing the heat coming back to your face and your core. "Save that pretty little mouth for next time. Yeah?"

Next time. The phrase lingered in your head, leaving you with a queasy feeling in your gut.

With one hand, he spread your legs and held your leg up high enough for him to have the reach he needed to make you come a second time. That was his trick. He knew what he was doing too well, and you loathed him for it.

“Chan...” You whimpered. He grunted and brought your bodies together. He held the shaft of his own cock and stroked it for a few seconds before brushing the tip against your slit. You gasped for air at the feeling. "Please. Chan." You pleaded, searching his eyes. It was too much of a torture and you wouldn't be able to bear it if he wasn't fast.

“Fuck, don't do it like that...” He whined, still thrusting into your hole with his own cock. “Fucking Christ.” Your wetness made him slide between the clit and the slit. Your eyes went wide, collapsing. Meanwhile, Chan was glued to the point where you connected.

Slowly, he slipped in. A moan in unison reverberated almost in praise.

He knew it wouldn't last long. Being deep inside you was driving him insane. You were making him slip, making the movements clumsy but so delicious. Bangchan pressed down on your calf, pinning it to his chest. You leaned over, holding onto his shoulder. The sight was like a fucking movie scene.

You entwined as one.

Bangchan took his time to lengthen his movements, first because he could feel every inch of your pussy swallow him up. It was so fucking good. He nibbled his lip tightly, gliding in a little more, causing you to whimper.

“Faster.” Pleas burst from your ruined lips.

“Fuuuuck.” Bangchan upped the pace, a frantic and luscious back and forth. “You're fuckin' surreal.”

He could have been saying anything, but your brain was thawing, your body morphing. Being stuffed until his balls hit your skin was opulent. Their bodies met halfway, each moving as fast as possible to get themselves there. Bangchan had to hold onto the table to avoid a hole in the wall. The furniture kept bouncing in line with your bodies.

The rapturous feeling fills you and takes you to the edge. What was left of the room was a mess of panting and skin on skin. Your hips rode the width of him. He was falling to pieces little by little, feeling his body combust.

From the way his veins seemed more prominent and thicker, his neck stiff, his sweat accentuating his smooth skin, you could tell. You rocked your body vigorously back and forth, giving him deep, dry thrusts. Bangchan then reached a point set aside to take you to heaven.

When the groans dared escape your lips, he devoured them, one by one, eating up the pleas, his name coming out of your mouth like a holy prayer that only he would hear. That was enough time for your body to succumb to the fierce orgasm and for Bangchan to pull out, thrusting with his own hand and letting go on your sweat-damp stomach.

You were still hanging on to his shoulder, trying to find your feet. Both panting and with your eyes closed, you seemed to recover some consciousness. His eyes were still clouded with desire, in a hue you had never yet witnessed.

“Well,” you said between chuckles. “I think you've just proved your point.”

Bangchan laughed and then helped you up from the desk. Your clothes were scattered around the room, your boots under a stranger's bed. You cleaned up and dressed. Make-up was intact, but your hair was a tangled mess. He watched from the corner of his eye as he put on his own underwear.

After a brief fix in the mirror, you turned around a little awkwardly, as if he hadn't just given you the best sex of your entire life.

“So, I'm going out first... Just in case... You know, anyone sees me.”

In fairness, he was quite taken aback. He hadn’t expected what had just happened to mean anything to you, but there was a part of him—just a sliver—that hoped it might shift your perspective. The realization stung his pride, but he masked it, keeping the quiet frustration buried deep inside.

"Yeah. Whatever."

You shot him a glance, your expression unreadable. "All right. Well, I guess... that’s it. I’ll see you around."

Your smile was soft, but there was an undertone of something more—a knot in your chest that wouldn’t let go. He nodded, his face as impassive as ever, his eyes giving nothing away.

With a soft exhale, you closed the door behind you and leaned against it, eyes squeezed shut.

What the fuck had you just done?

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inactiveaccount-lovendeepsecrets · 5 months ago

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Domestic + Intimate Headcanons

*Minus Caleb only because his myth and cards aren't out yet, and I don't feel confident adding him when there's so much lore and little quirks we still don't know about him. I shall make a separate post for him if this goes well.

But Hi! This is my 1st hc so please go easy on me. I believe some of the bullet points on here are canon, but I can’t help talking abt how cute this all is 🫠 I'm not the best writer and I tried so hard to be impartial, but you can probably still tell where my bias lies LOL

As always these are just my opinions!!

tags: headcanon, fluff, mostly gender neutral, but these lean towards an afab + fem!reader, 18+

***MDNI; by choosing to interact with this content, you have consented to viewing something nsfw despite the warnings and will be BLOCKED***

Disclaimer: I personally think all of them like praise, body worship and are humungous eaters. If the specifications aren't noted under your fav LI, it's because I didn't want this too become too redundant!

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭✮ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ ❅ ❆ ❃ 𓆰· 𓆃

Rafayel

SFW

• Has definitely set up a date where you do that TikTok trend painting portraits of each other

• Hates the caricature you two posed for at the amusement park

• On more than one occasion you've (jokingly) threatened to frame said caricature at his gallery to shut him up during an argument

• Is an escape artist. He has a long history of being captured/on the run. It’s no wonder he could easily untie himself from your ropes

• I don't think we talk enough about how rich this man is, but I think he'd be quite into second hand fashion. Think runway archives, vintage designer pieces, custom couture, etc.

• Always drives over the speed limit

• Will never tease you during your art lessons with him

• THE best bf to take pictures of you for your social media accounts. He’d suggest different poses while contorting himself in odd positions on the ground just to get the perfect angle

• Sings you to sleep

• Surprisingly good at doing hair. If you need help dying, braiding, or putting your hair in rollers, he'd actually do a pretty good job.

• Created an entire album on his phone of candid photos he took when you weren't looking

• Also made a scrapbook of polaroids from all your scenic dates and vacations together, most of them are of you

NSFW

• He’s a mermaid. He is the motion of the ocean. The hip movements? Stamina? Best (and prettiest) dick game goes to him, I’m sorry.

• LOUD, noisy, and talkative. Starts to ramble when he’s close

• Wax play? [in the submissive]

• Nipple play [in the submissive]

• Edging + Milking

• I think his open vulnerability makes people think he’s more sub leaning, but some of it’s for show

• Because of your bond, he’ll submit; but he’ll do it in such a way that you’re right where he wants you to effectively make the switch

• Make no mistake, he doesn’t mind subbing from time to time. He loves seeing you on top of him, using his body. He feels a sense of accomplishment being a vessel for your pleasure

• There was a tweet that explained how Raf would be a bit of a bully as a dom, but in the best way (recommended read)

• Chuckles and coos at you after each of your orgasms

• Isn’t into watersports, but gets a massive ego boost if you squ*rt

• Is sometimes overly arrogant about toys, but is also so obsessed with you, that he made you get molds of each other on the rare occasions you’re apart for too long

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚ 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓇼 ⋆｡˚ 𓆝⋆｡˚

Sylus

SFW

• Has asked his private chef for a one on one culinary lesson to impress you with a home cooked meal

• A patron and secret lover of the arts. Dabbles in the opera, theatre and certain musicals

• He’s*slightly* better at drawing and singing than he lets on, but loves taking the piss

• This man is so funny, but his life and profession is all too serious, making the small moments of banter more precious for the both of you

• Will also hum to lull you to sleep

• Secret polyglot

• His way of ending petty arguments with you is by throwing you over his shoulder and going to bed

• Retail therapy connoisseur

• Surprisingly handy

• He of course, only likes visiting Linkon to see you, but also likes your apartment. While it’s microscopic in his eyes, he slowly understands what small things make a home feel cozy and tries to replicate that at his

• He’s intrigued by your self care sessions and will often indulge, joining in with the sheet masks, aromatherapy, massages and waxing (he likes the heat of the wax lol). He’ll put on a brave face and deny the pain, boasting about his high tolerance

• Spoils you in general, but especially when you’re sick or on your period

• Will carry you around just cause -much like a typical cat owner who loves to randomly pick up and cuddle their cat LOL

• Would buy out a restaurant for the night and have the orchestra play a medley of some of your favourite songs you’ve discovered from his record collection

• There’s really no such thing as small gestures with him

NSFW

• Marking

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• Blindfolds

• Certified munch; almost loves it more than penetrative sex

• AND HE 10000% HOLDS YOUR HANDS WHILE GOING DOWN ON YOU— WHY ISNT THIS WRITTEN MORE IN FICS

• Pleasure dom. He’s not sadistic or a bully when it comes to overstimulation (unlike Raf), he’s the very definition of “will talk you through it”

• Absolutely the type to coo at the sounds and faces you make. You could not look more adorable in his eyes

• Likes watching you solo

• Your satisfaction is his priority, so he’s not intimidated by toys. That being said, he definitely owns a remote vibrator

• Phone sex. No question

• In addition to phone sex, he bought those long distance bluetooth couple’s toys that sync up with each other so it’ll react to both of your movements in real time

• In the submissive, he really loves to see you in control of your own pleasure. He’ll encourage you to use him (eg face sitting, leg humping, cowgirl, etc)

• Slight masochist; those cuffs, paddles and chains are for him 😭 he’s curious to see how far you’ll go. By the end of it all, he’ll use his evol to free himself of whatever restraint he’s under

•As far as a degradation kink, I don’t see it for him, sorry. He adores you too much to call his sweetie a “slut”, “whore”, “filthy,” and so on

• Not as rough as he appears. Really the only time he’s rougher than he realises, is when he’s biting you

• If you want it more aggressive, you’ll have to ask. Even then, he’ll be cautious not to overdo it. The last thing he wants is to hurt you

• It’s canon he loves praise. Giving and receiving

𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡ 𓆰· 𓆃 · 𓆩♡

Xavier

SFW

• Low-key likes to carry you around and his fav way is by piggyback ride (loves being physically close to you and the way you cling to him)

• Will fast all day just for Hotpot or Brazilian steakhouse

• Is much better at baking than cooking

• Leaves you Post-it note love letters in places like mirrors, cabinets, and drawers, before he leaves after spending the night

• Unintentional comedian. He's sometimes taken aback by your laughter, but it only encourages him to keep talking just to hear it again

• He honestly loves sharing things with you; food, books, (his) hoodies, etc. He just doesn’t like sharing YOU

• Would plan a scavenger hunt date

• Is always playing coy because he knows it triggers your cuteness aggression

• The pettiest of petty when he's upset or threatened (look up his affinity lvl 140 video call)

• Sometimes stricter than Zayne when it comes to your health & recovery. He hates to see you over-exerting yourself after an injury and has scolded you before about taking it easy

• Loves to get ready for bed with you at the same time. Showering together, doing skincare together, brushing teeth together; whatever you’re doing he’s either tagging along or sitting there watching you

• When he’s spending the night, he can't fall asleep without you playing with his hair and holding hands

• Learned your favourite flower and has been secretly sneaking into Jeremiah’s greenhouse planting and tending to a small bush of them to gift to you whenever

NSFW

• Thigh job

• Mating press

• Morning sex, specifically morning head (f receiving)

• While going down on you, he def seems like the type to keep going after you’ve climaxed, but he slows down his movements, giving languid kisses to your center to help ride out the wave of pleasure vs intentional overstimulation (though he isn’t against that either)

• It seems that the consensus on here is that he's the best eater of the LIs? I don't necessarily disagree; I'm just not completely sure if that title goes to him quite yet

• The most primal and rough of the LIs. Hair pulling, choking (safely), spanking, leashes

• Also likes it when you’re rough with him

[I know I said I wasn’t confident making any hcs abt Caleb yet, but I have a slight hunch he rivals Xavier for most primal]

• Goes feral when you say his name

• This man is a dom, don’t let the puppy eyes and bunny ears fool you 💀

• He's not as noisy as he is talkative, especially during foreplay

• BOSSY

• I don’t put it past him to feel like he’s in competition with vibrators. He’d rather him use one on you, but knows he’s being irrational

• While he’s not really into feet, he’d suck toes during missionary to see how you’d react

✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸ ✮ ✵ ✰ ✷ ✭ ✧ ✸

Zayne

SFW

• Alternatively to Sylus, this man is comprised of small gestures that snowball (hehe) over time. One more meaningful than the next

• While he respects and admires your independence, he needs you to need him. He’ll never vocalise it, but he feels most useful and accomplished when you ask for his help

• Won’t let you carry any bags when you’re out shopping, not even your purse

• Like Rafayel, he also has an album on his phone with pictures of mostly you. Though he feels odd taking your picture when you’re not looking, he’s snuck in a photo or two when you were looking particularly lively mingling with the people at his work event

• Knows your go-to orders at all of your fav restaurants by heart

• Stargazing dates. When either of you are out of town for a while and are catching up on the phone before bed, he’ll tell you to go outside and look at the moon

• After a long shift at work, he’ll kneel by your side of the couch waiting for you to embrace him, hugging and nuzzling your waist

• He also secretly loves being the little spoon

• Subscribed to a delivery service that sends you flowers on your birthday every year

• There’s something about Zayne that makes me think dogs absolutely LOVE him even though he’s not particularly fond of their energetic nature

• Spoils you rotten when you’re on your period. Full princess treatment; plushie heating pads, full body massages, raspberry tea, and hand feeding you snacks. Basically Dr Zayne turns into Nurse Zayne

• He’s more lenient with your cravings, letting you have a small portion of desserts or snacks only after you’ve finished your meal

• Loves your laugh but knows his dry wit won’t always work, so he’ll just tickle you if the joke doesn’t land

• Fell in love with you after the Drunken Intimacy card. It made him realise how much he likes holding you and tending to your needs

• Doesn’t even bother lecturing you about how bad high heels are for your joints and muscles anymore. He now keeps a pair of slippers in his car just in case you start to complain

• He can never resist the urge to kiss your cheek or forehead when he sees you’re fast asleep (Canon 🥹)

NSFW

• Has a weakness for lingerie, lace and stockings

• In the submissive, he’d be just like the kitty butler in his card -the goodest of good boys

• …Feet? I’m not sure if it’s anything freaky. Kudos to whoever clocked that for sub! Zayne months prior to the kitty butler quad banner

• Soft dom, but not as gentle as his voice lets on. He’s already a bit strict with you in your relationship, and he’s the same way in bed. How is he supposed to know what feels good if you don’t vocalise it?

• The only time he’s pretty rough with you is when you provoke him. But he checks in with you to make sure he isn’t being too hard

• Once he loses his control, he gets a tiny bit greedy too (“We’re not done here. Quitting halfway isn’t something I would do” —Silent Poem Secret Times)

• His methods of brat “taming” aren’t anything over the top or domineering. Though he enjoys spanking, he thinks there are better lessons he could teach you to combat your brattiness

• Has definitely gone down on you and stopped altogether right before you climax as a form of punishment

• Shibari + Hitachi -girl run!

• Ice play

• Nipple play (giving and receiving)

• The size of your chest doesn’t really matter to him, he just really likes to hold and massage them. It’s his favourite way to keep his hands warm

• This man is so good with his hands and in more ways than one. The placement and movement of his hands in the Nightly Rendezvous card sent me into orbit. The body worship he’d do is insane

• Needless to say he’s the best at fingering

• You’re irresistible to him. He breathes you into every kiss, deepening as your bodies continue to merge. There’s no sex without passion, even the “quickies”

• Quickies usually only happen when you’ve teased or provoked him too far during (or on your way to) an event. Otherwise, he likes taking his time with you

• He knows your body like the back of his hand. He’s memorised what triggers the sounds, faces, and jolts your body makes

• Much like Xavier, he loves to hear you cry out his name

❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆ ❃ ❊ ❉ ❅ ❆

#my headcanons #Soft Dom Sylus girlies RISE #love and deepspace #zayne x reader #rafayel x reader #sylus x reader #xavier x reader #lads x reader #sylus fluff #xavier fluff #zayne fluff #rafayel fluff #18+ mdni #l&ds smut #sylus love and deepspace #zayne love and deepspace

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hearts4pbaz · 27 days ago

Text

I'll Fold You

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

Words: 5.3K

Warnings: sexual content‼️

Synopsis: Girlfriends, teammates, and now rivals in a very intense bet. When their teammates tease that they can’t go a week without sex, Paige and Azzi make a bet: whoever physically initiates sex first loses.

Notes: i really like how this turned out. this was my first time writing smut, so lmk how it is. your comments or much appreciated

It started on a random Thursday night, like most stupid ideas do. The mood in the shared Bueckers-El Alfy-Ziebell apartment was lazy—empty take-out boxes and snacks strewn around the living room—Ice and KK having come over nearly two hours ago. Azzi, too, if basically living there, still counts as coming over. She was now cuddled up to Paige, the older girl’s hand resting on the caramel skin hidden under Azzi’s hoodie.

“Bro, y’all are disgusting,” Jana said, mouth full of Takis, wagging a red-stained finger at the couple. “Why Paige always got her hand in your hoodie, Azzi? You cold or she just feel up them titties?”

Paige smirked and didn’t move her hand. “Can’t a girl cuddle her girl in peace?”

“No, Jana’s right, y’all act like you ain’t seen each other in years and not five minutes,” Ice added, chuckling from the floor. “I bet y’all can’t go 24 hours without makin’ out.”

Azzi blushed but didn’t back down. “Jealousy isn’t a good color on you Ice,” she quipped.

“Oh, please,” KK chimed in. “Y’all so wrapped up in each other, if one of you leaves the room for longer than five minutes, the other one gets withdrawal symptoms. It’s sick.”

Jana leaned forward, dramatically. “Nah, forreal. Y’all wouldn’t last a week without touching. Without sex? Pfft. Two days. Max.”

Paige looked at Azzi. Azzi looked at Paige. A beat passed.

“You tryna bet?” Paige raised a brow, already grinning like she won.

Azzi narrowed her eyes. “On what?”

“Whoever goes the longest without physically initiating sex wins. First one to cave—loses.”

Jana’s eyes widened. “Ooooh, this is about to be good.”

Azzi held out her hand. Paige shook it firmly. “Deal. Winner gets to have the loser do whatever they want.”

The first 24 hours were fine. Surprisingly easy, even. They’d gone a day without having sex. It was just what being a DI athlete entailed. They kept their usual routine—classes, workouts, film, naps. No biggie. They still slept in the same bed, on the logic that nothing can happen while they’re sleeping, and, sure, their backs were turned like enemies, but they were good. They were fine.

By day two, though? The bet turned into a different beast.

Azzi tugged her practice jersey off and tried not to look over. Paige was two lockers down, shirtless, abs glistening slightly from sweat, talking with KK about a drill from earlier.

Azzi swallowed hard and focused on unlacing her shoes.

“You good, Az?” Ice asked.

“Fine,” she said, a little too quickly.

Paige caught that.

“Oh, by the way, Az,” she said casually. “You left your sports bra in my laundry again. Wanna come get it later? Or should I bring it to your room… still warm.”

Azzi didn’t even flinch. “You touchin’ my laundry now? Sounds like an invite to me.”

“Someone’s hopeful,” Paige grinned. “But, nah, not an invite, just tryin’ to be helpful.”

Azzi leaned in close, whispering just loud enough. “Tryin’ to be slick.”

Ice, a witness to the interaction, quickly made her way out of the locker room. Mutter something along the lines of, “Y’all still nasty, even when you’re not fucking.”

Later that afternoon, Paige limped into the training room and let out a long, dramatic groan. “Yo, my quads feel like I got tackled by a bus.”

“You always complainin',” KK said, already halfway into the ice bath.

Azzi, already in one of the tubs across the room, raised a brow. “You coming in or just gonna monologue from the door?”

Paige stripped down to her sports bra and compression shorts and slid in with a hiss. “God, this is the worst good idea ever.”

Azzi smirked. “Should I come help you relax?”

Paige turned to her with narrowed eyes. “Ma’am… that is sexual harassment.”

“Oh, now you care about boundaries?”

KK cackled from the corner. “Y’all are disgusting at every temperature.”

“Don’t be mad just ’cause no one wanna flirt with you in an ice tub,” Paige shot back.

Azzi leaned her arms on the edge of her tub, watching Paige with a lazy smile. “You need help warming up after this?”

“Yeah...I’m good,” Paige muttered, avoiding eye contact.

Dinner that night was meant to be chill—just the team and food, glued together by their newfound trauma over Coach’s new conditioning routine. But of course, Paige and Azzi couldn’t help themselves. They sat across from each other, tension thick between them even as they passed around breadsticks.

“You know,” Paige said, stabbing her salad with her fork. “I read somewhere carbs make you more... affectionate.”

“Pretty sure you made that up,” Azzi replied without looking up from her pasta.

“Prove I didn’t.”

Azzi calmly reached for her water and took a slow sip. “Maybe I will. Later.”

KK slams her fork down. “Can y’all stop talking like y’all in a Netflix romcom with a TV-14 rating? Damn.”

Jana nodded. “Y’all got the whole table third-wheeling.”

Ice pushed her plate away. “I can’t eat when Paige is out here tryin’ to seduce a girl over linguine.”

“I’m just vibin’,” Paige said with a shrug, eyes locked on Azzi. “I ain’t doin’ nothin’.”

Azzi smirked. “You ain’t slick, Bueckers.”

“Neither are you, Fudd.”

Later that night in Paige’s room, they went through their normal bedtime routine—brushing teeth, skincare, scrolling TikTok side by side. Like normal. Totally normal.

Paige flopped onto her bed in an oversized tee, pulling the blanket up to her chin like she needed protection. Azzi turned off the main light and climbed into bed with her, placing a pillow between them, humming something soft under her breath.

After a few minutes of silence, Paige peeked over.

“You cold?”

“Nope.”

“...I could warm you up.”

Azzi turned, grinning in the dark. “Is that you initiating?”

“I’m offering... services,” Paige replied. “Like a heated blanket. No strings.”

Azzi laughed quietly. “Nice try.”

They both lay in silence, tension practically crackling in the air.

Paige groaned into her pillow. “This is hell.”

Azzi rolled over. “Goodnight, Paige.”

“Night, Azzi.”

A beat.

“I still hate you.”

“Sure you do.”

The next day, Azzi put Paige to the test.

“You guys have to stop using me as your free Uber driver whenever you want to go out,” Paige chided, dragging her feet through the parking lot.

“And yet you agree every time we ask,” KK said. “Also, we gotta see how long you and Azzi can go without jumpin’ each other in public.”

Azzi smirked as they walked into Aritzia, already plotting.

After twenty minutes of half-hearted browsing, Azzi walked into a fitting room, form-fitting, satin dress in hand.

A few minutes later, she poked her head out of the fitting room, eyes flitting to Paige sitting with KK and Ice on one of the couches, “I need you,” she said innocently. “It won’t zip.”

KK’s jaw dropped. “Oh, she dirty.”

“Yo, that’s a trap,” Ice whispered.

Paige stood up off the couch like a moth to a flame anyway.

Inside the tiny fitting room, Azzi, back to Paige, had the dress on, the zipper halfway up.

“Can you—?” she said, looking over her shoulder to meet Paige’s eyes.

Paige gulped. The curve of Azzi’s back was criminal, too muscular for its own good, if you ask Paige.

“Y’know I ain’t losin’ to you,” Paige muttered as she slowly zipped it up, fingers grazing skin like it didn’t matter.

Azzi sucked in, face close. “Then don’t.”

They stared at each other for one long, loaded second.

“Y’all good in there?” Jana called out.

Both jumped like the walls were wired.

After the fitting room debacle, the group made their way out of Aritzia and started strolling through the mall, half window shopping, half people watching.

Ice spotted a Build-A-Bear and dragged KK toward it with an excited “Broooo we makin’ twins.”

Paige and Azzi trailed behind, walking just a little too close.

They stepped onto the escalator, Paige in front, Azzi behind her.

It started innocently. Then Azzi leaned forward, breath just brushing Paige’s ear.

“I didn’t even ask if you liked the dress.”

Paige gripped the rail tightly. “You tryin’ to kill me in public?”

Azzi smirked. “Just wanted your opinion. You were... quiet in there.”

“That was survival silence.”

“Mmhmm.”

As they reached the top, Paige muttered, “Next time I’m zipping you up blindfolded.”

Azzi leaned back, satisfied. “You’d miss.”

Paige looked like she wanted to respond, but decided living was more important.

The girls regrouped at the food court. KK and Ice were hyped about their new stuffed bears, one of which wore a UConn jersey made of cut-up socks. (“Look at the drip,” KK said. “Bear’s better dressed than Ice.”)

Meanwhile, Paige and Azzi stood in line for pretzels, doing their best to act normal, which was getting harder by the hour.

“You want cinnamon or regular?” Paige asked, staring straight ahead.

“Cinnamon,” Azzi said. “You always eat mine anyway.”

Paige snorted. “Lies.”

“You literally stole the last bite last time and said it was ‘your prize for being the better shooter.’”

“That was a fair tax.”

They got their pretzels and sat with the others, chewing in tense silence. Paige took a bite, turned to say something smart, and locked eyes with Azzi, who already had her finger in her mouth, licking cinnamon sugar off it like she didn’t know what she was doing.

Paige dropped her pretzel.

“Y’all see that?” Ice said, eyes wide. “Paige blinked like three times in a row. She glitchin’.”

Azzi looked innocent. “Something wrong?”

Paige looked down at the table as if it had personally offended her. “Nope. Just... hot pretzel.”

KK leans over to Ice. “These two gon’ combust before day five, I’m callin’ it now.”

On the drive back, Paige took the aux cord. She had one rule: vibe control.

But Azzi, sitting up front now, leaned over and subtly skipped every song Paige played after thirty seconds.

“What are you doing?” Paige asked, narrowing her eyes.

“I’m curating the mood.”

Paige scoffed. “You tryin’ to sabotage the mood.”

“Oh, I’m setting one. You just don’t like not being in charge.”

Paige turned down the volume. “Keep it up, Fudd. I’ll put on Baby Shark and blast it.”

“I dare you.”

“You think I won’t ruin everybody’s night with children’s YouTube core?”

“I hope you do,” Azzi said with a smirk. “Because that’s when I’ll know I’ve won.”

KK groaned from the backseat. “Ayo. I don’t care who wins. Just don’t punish us.”

Ice added, “Y’all’s sexual tension got GPS rerouting us to hell.”

Paige cracked a smile, then hit play on “Love Language” by SZA.

Azzi just leaned her head against the window, humming along with the lyrics.

And Paige gripped the steering wheel like it was a flotation device.

Tomorrow was going to be hell.

The fourth day starts at 6 a.m. sharp with team conditioning. Spirits were low. Knees were sore. The gym smelled like effort and regret. Azzi walked in late, hair up in a messy bun, rocking the tightest pair of leggings Paige had ever seen.

Paige tripped over a foam roller.

“Damn, P,” KK said, laughing. “What, the floor attack you?”

“She good?” Ice asked.

“I’m fine,” Paige grunted, shooting Azzi a glare.

Azzi just gave a polite, confused smile like she didn’t know her whole outfit was a psychological assault.

During suicides, Paige caught herself watching the way Azzi moved two steps ahead. After the third glance, she slapped herself in the face.

Ice, jogging beside her, side-eyed. “Yo… what is wrong with you?”

“Shin splints.”

“That’s your face.”

“Mind yo business.”

Later that afternoon in the weight room, the girls were spotting each other for bench press. Azzi sat on the nearby bench, sipping from her water bottle and watching Paige push through a heavy set.

“You good?” she asked sweetly. “You look like you’re struggling.”

“I’m not struggling,” Paige grunted, arms shaking. “I’m dominating.”

Azzi stood up and walked over, a towel over her shoulder. “Need a spot?”

“Nope,” Paige said through clenched teeth.

“You sure? I’m great with my hands.”

KK, at the squat rack, nearly choked on her protein shake.

Azzi backed off with a smirk and returned to her bench. Paige stared up at the ceiling like she needed divine strength.

That evening before the movie night, they all met in the study lounge for mandatory study hall. Paige sat at a table, headphones in, trying to finish an essay. Azzi slid into the seat beside her, placed her laptop down… and then kicked her shoes off.

Paige noticed. Paige definitely noticed.

Then Azzi did the unthinkable—stretched her leg out, bare foot sliding juuust close enough under the table that Paige flinched.

“You got somethin’ to say?” Azzi asked innocently.

“Why are you like this?”

“I’m studying. You’re the one looking at my feet.”

“You put ‘em in my zone.”

“This your foot territory now?”

Paige stood up so fast her chair squeaked.

“Going to the bathroom,” she muttered, walking off.

Jana, across the room, didn’t even look up from her notebook. “Y’all weird.”

And lo and behold, on the fourth day, Azzi showed up to Paige’s room in Paige’s UConn hoodie and no pants.

“Seriously?” Paige asked, eyeing her bare thighs.

“I was cold,” Azzi said, settling on the couch beside her. “Thought maybe we could cuddle.”

Paige sat as far away as the couch would allow. “Then maybe try putting on some pants. You really tryna win, huh?”

Azzi just smiled sweetly. “I’m not doing anything,” climbing into Paige’s bed.

They watched Love & Basketball in tense silence. Paige kept stealing glances. Azzi definitely noticed.

Halfway through, Azzi stretched like a cat, her leg brushing Paige’s.

“You good?” Paige asked, voice hoarse.

“Great,” Azzi said, all innocence. “Just comfy.”

The pair fell asleep before the movie was over, still careful not to be touching.

Paige woke up warm. Too warm.

Sunlight crept through her blinds, and her brain was just starting to come online when she realized:

Azzi. Was. Cuddling. Her.

Correction—they were cuddling. Tangled. Entwined. Azzi’s leg was hooked over her thigh, an arm slung across her stomach like it belonged there, face tucked into Paige’s neck. The pillow that once separated them discarded at the foot of the bed.

Paige didn’t move at first. Her brain was short-circuiting. Warning sirens were going off internally, screaming DANGER and WEAKNESS DETECTED.

Azzi stirred against her, nuzzling in with a sleepy sigh. “Mmm... comfy.”

Paige flinched like the word physically hit her.

“Az,” she said, hoarse. “You’re cheating.”

Azzi didn’t open her eyes. “I’m sleeping.”

“You came in here pantless. You knew what you were doing.”

Azzi cracked one eye open and looked up, voice barely a whisper. “I can leave.”

She moved slightly, just enough that her thigh grazed between Paige’s legs.

Paige actually whimpered. God. Five days no sex was really starting to get to her physically.

“Nope,” she blurted, arm tightening instinctively. “Stay.”

Azzi’s grin was slow, smug, and victorious. “Mmhm. That’s what I thought.”

By some miracle, Paige had made it through the day without spontaneously combusting. Barely.

Classes. Study hall. A team meeting that dragged on forever. Paige buried herself in busy work, headphones in, hoodie up, eyes down. Anything to stay out of Azzi’s gravitational pull.

But Azzi didn’t make it easy.

In the locker room after their lift, Paige spotted her out of the corner of her eye—in just a sports bra and shorts, fresh from the shower, moisture still clinging to her abs. She looked like she belonged in a body wash commercial and a fever dream at the same time.

Paige audibly gulped.

“You okay?” Ice asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m fine,” Paige snapped.

Ice leaned in. “She walk by again?”

Paige didn’t say anything. Which was its own answer.

That night, the team had a little game night. Azzi showed up to kill—this time in tiny sleep shorts and that same damn hoodie Paige always let her borrow.

KK clocked it immediately. “She tryna finish the job,” she whispered to Ice. “That’s the closer fit.”

Paige tried not to look. Tried.

They played Uno. Azzi sat across from her with her legs stretched out, bare thigh brushing Paige’s shin under the table every time she “accidentally” shifted.

“You’re cheating,” Paige muttered when Azzi drew four and placed her card down with a smirk.

Azzi batted her lashes. “I’m playing to win.”

“I meant the game. And life. And this damn bet.”

Azzi gave a knowing shrug, sipping her Gatorade like it was tea. “Maybe you should’ve folded yesterday.”

Later that night, Paige walked into her room and immediately stopped in the doorway.

Azzi was already there. Sitting in her bed. Scrolling on her phone like she owned the place. Lights low. A candle lit on the desk. Hoodie still on. No pants in sight.

Paige closed the door slowly. “You’re not even pretending anymore.”

Azzi looked up. “It’s your bed.”

“And you’re in it.”

“I figured we made it through the day. Thought I’d stay over like usual.”

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Like usual? Az, we’re at war.”

Azzi patted the blanket beside her. “Truce for the night?”

Paige hovered. “This is how you kill me.”

Azzi shrugged. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You are something.”

That made Azzi smirk. “You gonna sleep on the floor?”

Paige stared at the ceiling. Then exhaled hard like she was being dragged to her doom. “No. I’m gonna regret this in five minutes.”

She slid under the covers, keeping a respectable distance.

Azzi didn’t say anything. Just turned, facing her. Quiet. Calm. A killer in disguise.

Minutes passed. Paige pretended to scroll. Azzi yawned.

Then… Azzi scooted just an inch closer. Their legs touched. Bare skin against bare skin.

Paige flinched. “Az.”

“Hm?”

“You know what you’re doing.”

Azzi blinked, the picture of innocence. “I’m cold.”

“Lie better.”

“I could take the hoodie off instead.”

“Please don’t.”

Another beat of silence.

Then Azzi whispered, “You still holding on?”

Paige was breathing heavier now, eyes on the ceiling like it could save her.

“Barely.”

Azzi leaned in, lips just barely avoiding Paige’s jaw.

“You don’t have to.”

Paige snapped her head to face her.

And that was it.

Paige kissed her. Hard. Five days of tension—five days of wanting—five days of holding back finally spilling out. Her hands came up, cupping Azzi’s jaw as she nibbled down on the older girl’s bottom lip, swiping her tongue over it.

Azzi let out a noise low in her throat. And it made Paige feel like she’d been lit on fire. Paige’s lips moved down to Azzi’s jaw and neck as she threw one leg over Azzi’s hips, straddling her, laying them both down on the bed.

Paige’s hands were just about to slide under Azzi’s hoodie when she spoke up, Paige freezing above her, “Ah, not so fast. I won, which means I get to have you do anything I want.”

“And that is…?” Paige questioned breathlessly, clearly not understanding the implications of Azzi’s current power.

Wrapping her arms around Paige’s neck, lifting herself to meet her ear, Azzi whispered, “All you have to do is behave. Just listen to what I tell you to do while I’m fucking you with the strap.”

Azzi’s comment made Paige sit up, “Azzi, no. No way am I being fucked by you.”

“A bet’s a bet, Paigey,” she leaned in closer, lowering her voice again, “I promise I’ll be gentle.”

Paige sighed, “Fine, it’s in the closet, the orange Nike shoe box.”

Azzi smiled, leaning down to plant a peck on Paige’s lips before jumping off the bed, making her way over to the closet.

Paige flopped down on her back, staring at the ceiling, a twinge of something bordering excitement settling low in her stomach.

Azzi returned, tossing the toy on the bed, moving to straddle her legs on top of Paige. She looks down at the older girl, fingers coming to fiddle with Paige's hoodie strings, “I’ll only do this if you're actually okay with it, and you say the word and I’ll stop,” she hums.

Paige didn’t say anything at first, she just looked up at Azzi, eyes wide, and then lifted her head to plant a peck on the brunette’s lips, “Okay,” she says softly.

A small smile played on Azzi’s lips,” Great,” she chimed before connecting both their lips. The kiss was tender and soft, letting the heat build between them naturally. Azzi’s hands travelled down to the hem of Pagie’s hoodie, pulling her up to sitting, tugging it over her head, then tossing it to the floor beside her. Paige’s sports bra quickly followed, leaving her only in the sweatpants hanging low on her hips and the pair of boxers peaking out of the waistband of her sweats.

Paige lay back down, her blonde hair splayed out on the pillow as Azzi adjusted herself on top of her. Azzi began to trail kisses downward, stopping at the junction of Paige’s neck sucking the spot above her collarbone, before running her tongue along the area, continuing her minstrations further south.

Her mouth then came to Paige’s breasts, lips closing around one nipple, one hand moving to cup the other. She dragged her tongue and thumb over the pebbled buds, making Paige inhale sharply, throwing her head back.

Azzi then travelled over to the valley between Paige’s breasts, resting her chin there momentarily, looking up at the blonde, she whispered, “You’re so pretty like this, all laid out f’me.”

Paige didn’t respond, instead, she threw an arm over her face in an attempt to hide the blush creeping onto her cheeks. Warmth pooled low in her stomach.

Azzi’s mouth moved lower, eventually coming to the patch of skin directly below Paige’s navel and directly above the waistband of her sweatpants. Azzi looked up at Paige, silently looking for permission to take off the last of the blonde’s clothing.

Paige met Azzi’s eyes, her own pleading and glassy, and nodded her head, “Please,” she breathed.

With that, Azzi wasted no time, quickly tugging the offending article away from Paige’s legs, discarding it in the same way she did with her hoodie and sports bra. Pants now off, Paige was left in just a pair of light blue boxers, which had a very visible wet patch growing at their center.

“God, you’re soaked already, baby, and I haven’t even touched you yet,” Azzi purred, breath ghosting over the damp fabric.

Paige shivered, “Azzi, please, I need you,” she whined.

“What did you want, pretty? My fingers? My mouth? Use your words.”

“F–fingers. I want your fingers,” Paige stuttered out.

“Okay,” Azzi said softly, running her fingers up over the dark patch of Paige’s underwear to the waistband. Paige squirmed, hissing out a breath. Then, Azzi hooked her fingers under the elastic, pulling them down, leaving Paige fully exposed.

Now having Paige completely bare, Azzi moved back upward to make eye contact with the older girl, holding herself above her with her left arm as her right reached down. With one finger, she dragged through Paige’s folds, collecting warm slick on her finger.

A small gasp slipped from Paige’s lips, closing her eyes, she tipped her head back.

Just then, Azzi’s hand came up from Paige’s core to her chin, tugging her head back, “I want you to look at me. Don’t close your eyes.”

Azzi dragged her hand back down to Paige’s center, doing as she had before. Collecting more of Paige’s arousal on her finger, dragging upward to coat Paige’e clit. Her finger stayed there for a beat, pressing down on the bud, moving it in firm, tight circles. Paige gasped, gripping the sheets, as she struggled to keep eye contact with Azzi.

Slowly—tantalizingly so—Azzi’s finger moved to Paige’s entrance, resting there, moving a millimeter at a time before Azzi finally pushed the digit into Paige without much resistance. At first, Azzi didn't pull her finger out any, she just curled the very tip of it into Paige’s sweet spot repeatedly, until she felt Paige’s breath pick up, that’s when she started to thrust her finger in and out of the older girl, still curling her finger to hit the spongy spot inside the blonde.

“Ah—fuck! Az, I—need more,” Paige choked out frustratedly. And wordlessly, Azzi added another finger, picking up her pace, as she leaned down to capture Paige’s lips in a kiss, tongue pushing into her mouth.

As Azzi continued her precise movements, Paige’s excess slick started to pool at the base of Azzi’s fingers, dripping down into her palm. Adjusting the position of her arm, Azzi pushed the heel of her palm into Paige’s clit. Paige ground down in response, a noise—something resembling a moan—only more guttural escaped from her throat.

“You like that, don’t you?” Azzi hummed.

“Fuck, Az. Don’t stop—I’m close,” Paige replied, as both hands clutched a fistful of sheet.

Azzi could feel Paige’s walls tightening as she neared the edge, and with one firm, well-timed thrust, Paige tipped over it. Thighs clamping around Azzi’s hand, mouth open, moan lost on her lips. Azzi fingered her through it until Paige pushed her hand away, “Shit, too much, too much Az,”

Azzi pulled her fingers out of Paige slowly, “I’m sorry, baby,” she said as she climbed off the bed, grabbing the strap she’d set aside earlier. “You think you got one more for me?”

Paige let out a breathy laugh, “Yeah, if you give me a minute.”

After peeling off all her clothes, leaving her clad in just a black Nike sports bra, Azzi began to put on the strap. She had seen and or helped Paige put it on enough times for her to have little trouble adjusting the harness to her hips. Coming to straddle Paige again, Azzi brought her still-wet fingers to the other girl’s mouth, “Open,” Azzi said. Paige hesitated but obliged, taking the fingers into her mouth sucking her own juices off her girlfriend’s fingers. Azzi removed her fingers from Paige’s mouth, bringing them down to glide along the length of the toy, effectively lubricating it. “You ready now?” Azzi asked the older girl. Paige nodded.

Azzi repositioned herself on top of Paige, she gripped the base of the toy with her dominant hand, the other coming to spread Paige’s wet folds as she dragged the tip of the toy through them.

Azzi placed a kiss on Paige’s lips before she lined herself up with Paige’s center, slowly pushing the strap into her. As Azzi’s bottomed out, Paige let out a low groan. What surprised Azzi, however, was that as she pushed the toy in, she could feel the base of it pressing against her. Before, she’d always thought Paige was being dramatic when she’d say things like ‘You feel so good.’ Now, she understood what Paige had meant, but alas, she kept a poker face.

Hovering above Paige, Azzi began to move. She started with slow, tender thrusts, getting used to the feeling of controlling the toy with her hips. As she became more confident, she picked up her pace just slightly. Azzi moved closer to Paige, dropping down onto her forearms, Paige’s head bracketed by Azzi’s biceps.

Azzi continued at her pace, listening to the sounds she was able to force out of her girlfriend when it happened. A particularly firm thrust that sent the base of the strap into Azzi’s core harder than she’d anticipated, her rhythm faltered. She sucked in a sharp breath, quickly trying to return to the original tempo she’d set.

But it was too late, Paige had noticed and was arpearently, not fucked out enough to speak up about it, “You can feel it can’t you?” she whispered into Azzi’s ear. “It’s okay if you don’t last much longer, that’s typical for a first timer.”

And apparently Paige’s comment had flipped a switch in Azzi’s brain, because all of a sudden, she pulled out, climbing off Paige and off the bed.

“Ah—what the–”

“Stand up,” Azzi said firmly.

“Why?” Paige questioned.

“I said, stand up.”

Paige followed without any further questions, stood up off the bed to face Azzi. Then, with concerning ease, Azzi grabbed Paige’s hips, spun her around, and pushed her upper half onto the bed. Still gripping Paige’s hips, Azzi leaned down to her ear and whispered, “I think you must’ve forgotten who’s in control here. You’re gonna listen to me until we’re done. ‘Kay?”

With the side of her face, the better part of her upper half pressed into the mattress, hips in the air, Paige nodded frantically.

“Great,” Azzi said pointedly. Lining herself back up with Paige’s core. This time, she didn’t stall; instead, she snapped her hips forward, sending the length of the toy into Paige, quickly finding a faster rhythm than before.

“Agh—fuck!” Paige yelled as the strap was thrust into her harder than she anticipated.

The sounds now filling the room were obscene, skin slapping, mixed with the sound of Paige’s slick center and both girls’ moans. Azzi, by some miracle, was able to keep her pace. And as Paige’s legs began to shake, she felt herself reaching her own climax. It didn’t take long before her rhythm became sloppier. She bent down to litter kisses across the back of Paige’s neck, while her hand reached around to circle Paige’s clit. With that, Paige let out a sound that indicated she’d abandoned any attempt to remain quiet for her roommates’ sake. And that sound was what did it, sending both girls tumbling over the edge. Azzi tried her best to keep fucking Paige through her orgasm, until—right as she thought Paige was coming down from her high and she could slow down, she felt a gush of warm liquid coat her thighs and the pair froze.

Pushing herself back to standing, Azzi looked down to see droplets running down Paige’s thighs. “Oh. My. God. Did you just—”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paige replied, muffled, face buried in the bedding wishing it would just swallow her whole.

Azzi takes it as her cue to undo the strap, letting it drop to the floor to deal with later as she makes her way to the bathroom to get a warm wash cloth.

When she returned, she found Paige lying on the bed, face covered by her hands. Azzi climbs onto the bed with her, removing Paige’s hands, covering her face with kisses instead. Azzi then moved down to wipe between Paige’s legs with the cloth, doing the same for herself after. She sets the cloth aside, moving to tuck both of them in under the covers. Paige snuggled into Azzi’s side, head buried in the crook of Azzi’s neck. “Just so you know, that was like the hottest thing ever. I might have to try and get you to squirt every time we have sex now,” Azzi teased.

Paige turned her head, looked up at Azzi, her eyes glassy, looking quite frankly destroyed . Before turning her head back into Azzi’s neck and muttering, “Die.”

Azzi just laughed, about to join Paige in sleep, when she heard Paige’s phone buzz. She reached over to grab it, checking who the message was from. It was Jana, the message read:

Jana: you guys are nasty fucking freaks. i hate living here

Opening the camera, Azzi snapped a photo, her tongue out to the camera, Paige still nuzzled in her neck. She sends it with the message: guess who won the bet?

#paige x azzi #pazzi fics #paige bueckers #pazzi #azzi fudd #paige bueckers x azzi fudd #paige bueckers fic #pazzi smut #azzi fudd fic

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fading-event-608 · 9 months ago

Text

Let's talk.

I update Falastin's campaign daily and there's an alarming trend. I collect data each day because I'm that kind of guy, and what I've noticed is that while we get more daily interactions (notes) on my and Falastin's posts here on tumblr, the daily donations have dropped significantly even with me and other people updating it every 4 hours.

You can clearly see it on this chart from the past two weeks. AND in the last week Falastin got some donations from Instagram so it's even worse look for you guys. AND I know it's not just this campaign, it's been an awful month for basically all fundraisers so you can't say that it's all my fault or Falastin's.

I don't do updates to receive notes, I do them to keep you updated on the state of fundraiser and to encourage donations. In fact, I would be happy to go back to not posting anything like I did before.

This campaign provides for 24 people and received only 86 dollars since my last post [here]. At this point you all should know that 86 dollars per day is not enough for people in Gaza because of how high prices are for everything, including food and water. They also need medicine for her 73 y.o. mother and waterproof materials for their tent (see rain damage [here]).

No one will donate in your stead. No one will boost in your stead. Please do your part.

Keep in mind CONVERSION RATES:

10$ = 101 SEK

25$ = 253 SEK

50$ = 506 SEK

100$ = 1,012 SEK

Vetting info: #282 in El-Shab-Hussein and Nabulsi's spreadsheet [here], #957 in the Butterfly Project spreadsheet [here]

I do regular art updates (last one [here]) and accept commissions for donations, info [here].

#free palestine #gaza #palestine #from the river to the sea #signal boost #gofundme #verified gfm #gfm #please share

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moonstruckme · 6 months ago

Note

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men.

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it.

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour.

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back.

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts.

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.”

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest.

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?”

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.”

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye.

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips.

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly.

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.”

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief.

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?”

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.”

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.”

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face.

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you.

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant.

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man’s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.”

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face.

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?”

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you.

“You fucking cunt!”

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.”

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea.

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?”

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head.

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?”

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?”

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club.

You turn to James. “Where is he going?”

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically.

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?”

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much.

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully.

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door.

“I didn’t mean to.”

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.”

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.”

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?”

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow.

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!”

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news.

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?”

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?”

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly.

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?”

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted.

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?”

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car.

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.”

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.”

“Me neither,” you sigh.

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man.

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light.

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.”

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye.

“It was rather impressive,” he says, also smiling.

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?”

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.”

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.”

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…”

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.”

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car.

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…”

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly.

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist? Show me.”

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

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luckystay · 7 months ago

Text

𝙞𝙣 𝙗𝙚𝙩𝙬𝙚𝙚𝙣

words count: 7k

Relationships: bsf!bangchan x fem!reader x bsf!hyunjin

Synopsis: after years of friendship, you're shocked to learn your best friends aren’t gay, and are in-fact attracted to you.

Warnings: smut with plot, mutual pining, threesome (mfm), unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), heavy sexual tension, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, light manhandling, praise kink, mild jealousy, mentions of insecurity, alcohol consumption, and swearing.

(Minors, please do not interact!)

A/N: again did not proofread, also i'm having so many issues writing smut any advice can help.

Chan was the first person I spoke to on my first day at university. I still remember the way he approached me—this energetic, smiling guy who exuded confidence, a kind of confidence I couldn’t even imagine having.

At first, I thought maybe he was just being polite, trying to make the nervous girl feel more at ease. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that wasn’t the case. Chan wasn’t just friendly—he had this way about him that made you feel like you were the most important person in the room. It wasn’t something he tried to do; it just came naturally. We clicked immediately, and by the end of our conversation, I found myself laughing at his jokes, sharing stories, and feeling a sense of comfort I hadn’t expected.

After that, I didn’t really have to make any more friends. Chan took care of it. He introduced me to his friends, and just like that, I found myself a part of a whole new group. Felix, with his sweet nature and infectious laugh, Jisung, who always seemed to know how to make me laugh no matter how exhausted I was, and then there was chan’s roommate Hyunjin.

Hyunjin was different. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t intimidated at first. He was... well, he was hot—too hot, actually. Tall, effortlessly cool, with an air of quiet intensity that seemed to draw people in. Honestly, I thought he was out of my league. Every time I tried to talk to him, I’d stumble over my words, my face flushing under his steady gaze. I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious whenever he was around, like his confidence only highlighted how awkward I felt.

But all that changed when I started spending more time with them. Chan, being my main friend, and Hyunjin, being his roommate, meant I was bound to be around him a lot.

To my surprise, I started to see a different side of Hyunjin. The intimidating vibe? It wasn’t really who he was. He had a sense of humor—quirky, odd even, but adorable. Once he felt comfortable around me, he let his guard down, and I found myself enjoying his company more and more. He wasn’t the aloof, untouchable guy I’d once thought he was. He was just Hyunjin—relatable, funny, and incredibly easy to talk to.

All throughout university their dorm room became my unofficial home. i’d spend hours there—study sessions that turned into late-night talks, long gaming marathons, and movie nights that always ended with one of us falling asleep in some awkward position on the couch.

We became this inseparable trio. We went through heartbreaks together, laughed over drunk nights, celebrated wins, and comforted each other through the lows

Slowly but surely, my feelings for Hyunjin evolved. He wasn’t some crush anymore—he was my best friend. Over time, I stopped thinking about him in that way entirely.

I knew both Hyunjin and Chan were hooking up with people now and then, but we had this unspoken rule in our friendship: unless it was serious, we didn’t talk about it. That part of our lives stayed private, and I was okay with that. It wasn’t something we needed to discuss, but in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder sometimes.

Eventually, though, I settled on an assumption that made everything easier. The way Hyunjin and Chan were with each other, so effortlessly close and affectionate—it just made sense. They had to be gay, right? That explained the mystery, the privacy, everything. And honestly, it was fine with me. I wasn’t interested in either of them like that, and they didn’t seem interested in me. Our bond worked perfectly the way it was.

Or so I thought.

Now fresh out of uni, we found ourselves navigating adulthood together. Jobs, bills, responsibilities—it was a new world, but at least we had each other. Moving in together felt like a natural extension of our bond. Splitting rent made financial sense, but beyond that, we weren’t ready to let go of the dynamic we’d built.

The house wasn’t huge, but it had just enough space for the three of us to feel at home. It was chaotic at times, sure—Hyunjin’s half-finished art projects scattered across the living room, Chan’s endless work-from-home setup that seemed to expand every week, and my collection of books and mismatched mugs taking over the kitchen. But it worked. It always did with us.

living together now was... different. They weren’t just my friends anymore; they were men. And men like Chan and Hyunjin? They were impossible to ignore.

Physically, the changes were obvious. Chan’s broad shoulders and steady presence commanded a room effortlessly, while Hyunjin’s sharp jawline and lean, athletic build seemed designed to draw attention. They moved with purpose now, their every gesture confident and deliberate. But it wasn’t just how they looked—it was how they treated me.

In university, we were a chaotic trio, all equals in the chaos of growing up. But now? Now, they treated me like I was something precious.

Chan, always the dependable one, had become a protector in ways that felt heavier, more deliberate. He’d steady me with a hand on my lower back when we crossed busy streets, or hold open doors without a second thought. When we walked home late at night, he’d position himself closest to the curb, glancing over his shoulder every so often to make sure I was okay.

Hyunjin, for all his teasing, had a subtle gentleness that made my breath hitch. He’d help me carry groceries without being asked, his hand brushing against mine as he took the heavier bags. When I complained about how sore my shoulders were after work, he didn’t hesitate—just walked up behind me, warm hands massaging out the tension.

their touches were what really undid me.

It wasn’t like before, when their hands would land on my shoulder or ruffle my hair in passing. Now, every touch lingered. Chan’s hand on my waist as he guided me through a crowded room felt possessive in a way that sent shivers down my spine. Hyunjin’s fingers brushing a stray hair out of my face felt more intimate than it should have been.

And it wasn’t just the touches—it was how easily they did it, how natural it seemed for them to manhandle me in small ways. Chan would reach over me without warning, his chest brushing my back as he grabbed something off the top shelf. Hyunjin would wrap an arm around my shoulders, pulling me closer on the couch as he teased me about some show we were watching.

It was maddening. I’d tell myself it didn’t mean anything, that we were just friends. But the truth was; having two ridiculously attractive men treating me like this? Protecting me, touching me, looking at me the way they did? It was impossible to ignore the heat that simmered beneath the surface.

And the worst part? They didn’t even seem to notice what they were doing to me. To them, it was all so casual, so natural. But to me, it was intoxicating. Every brush of their hands, every low chuckle, every whispered “you okay?” left me more confused and yearning than ever.

Tonight, I’d slipped into a cream-colored sweater, paired with a black mini skirt that showed off a teasing amount of leg. It wasn’t like I’d dressed up for any particular reason; Felix and Jisung were coming over for dinner, and I wanted to look nice. Simple as that.

At least, that’s what I told myself.

The kitchen was filled with the rich scent of garlic, onions, and herbs. hyunjin stirring something on the stove. His broad shoulders filled out the fitted black shirt he was wearing, and the veins in his forearms flexed as he moved the spoon in lazy circles. When I entered, the sound of my footsteps seemed to grab his attention. His eyes flicked up, scanning me from head to toe before settling on my face. It was quick, but it wasn’t subtle. There was no hiding the way his gaze dropped, the look lingering just a moment too long on my legs before lifting back up. His lips curled into a smirk, just a little, and I felt my heart race.

“You look nice,” he said, his voice smooth, almost too casual.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck as I shrugged. “It’s just dinner.”

I crossed the space between us, standing close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body. His broad frame cast a shadow over me, and I instinctively tilted my head back to look up at him. He was taller than I remembered—taller, broader. The way his body seemed to fill the space made it hard to breathe for a moment.

“Thought I’d see if you needed help,” I said, trying to sound casual, but my voice was a little shakier than I wanted. I knew I had no idea how to cook, but standing this close to him made my mind scramble for anything to say.

“Help?” he repeated, his smirk deepening, his voice almost teasing. “You don’t even know where we keep the knives.”

“Not the point,” I shot back, hoping my words sounded more confident than I felt. My hands were already a little clammy, and my stomach twisted in knots.

Before I could say anything else, I felt a warmth at my back, and the unmistakable presence of Chan, who had entered quietly. His hand brushed lightly against the small of my back, his fingers just barely grazing my skin, and I froze.

Chan was wearing his usual jeans and a fitted t-shirt that clung to his chest in ways that made it hard to look away.

“Stealing her already?” Chan’s voice was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something else, something I couldn’t quite place. His fingers lingered for a second longer, just enough to make me painfully aware of how close he was. I felt my breath hitch in my throat.

“Wasn’t stealing,” Hyunjin responded, still holding my gaze, his voice casual but there was that underlying heat again, like he knew exactly what was going on. “She just knows I’m the best cook.”

I shifted slightly, crossing my legs without thinking, trying to hide the sudden flutter of heat I felt coursing through me. Chan’s hand didn’t leave my back, his touch light but somehow heavy all at once. I tried to focus on the conversation, on the joke they were making, but it felt almost impossible. The tension in the room was thick, and it felt like both of them were acutely aware of how close we were, of the way my body responded to them.

“Don’t steal her for yourself just yet,” Chan teased, a playful glint in his eyes. “We still need her to taste-test.”

I managed to force out a laugh, but it felt weak compared to the way my body was reacting to their proximity. The casual banter, the touches, the way their eyes lingered—everything felt too intimate. It was as if the friendship we’d built over the years was beginning to blur, and I didn’t know how to pull away from it.

This is not how friends should feel towards each other right?

Dinner was lively, filled with laughter and chatter as always, you were seated between Hyunjin and Felix, with Chan directly across from you, you couldn’t escape the charged atmosphere no matter how hard you tried.

The first real jolt came when you reached across the table for the salt shaker. It had been sitting just out of reach, and without thinking, you leaned forward to grab it. Before you could touch it, two hands moved toward it simultaneously—Chan’s from across the table, and Hyunjin’s from beside you.

Hyunjin’s arm brushed your shoulder as he leaned over, the scent of his cologne filling the space between you. He reached it first, but the motion brought him close—too close. You were painfully aware of the way his body crowded yours, his broad shoulders blocking out the rest of the table for a moment.

“Got it,” Hyunjin said softly, his voice carrying an almost teasing edge as he passed the shaker to you. His fingers lingered just a second too long against yours, and when you looked up, you were met with his dark, unreadable gaze.

Chan cleared his throat, drawing your attention. You glanced across the table to see him watching the exchange with an expression that was... difficult to place. There was no annoyance there, just something thoughtful, like he was curious.

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly adjusting in your seat and trying to shake the warmth creeping up your neck.

As the meal continued, the little moments piled on. Hyunjin’s knee brushing yours under the table, his hand casually resting on the back of your chair when he leaned over to speak to Felix. Chan’s gaze, heavy and unwavering, each time you glanced up from your plate. Even Felix, with his sweet, innocent charm, seemed to sense the tension in the air, his eyes darting between the three of you like he was trying to solve a puzzle.

Finally, Felix leaned in closer, nudging your shoulder gently. “Hey,” he said, his voice low. “Do you still have that cream? The one for sore muscles? My neck’s been killing me.”

The request caught you off guard, but you nodded quickly, grateful for an excuse to escape. “Yeah, I think it’s in my room. Come on, I’ll grab it for you.”

You pushed your chair back, standing up and smoothing your skirt. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught the way Chan’s gaze followed you, lingering just a beat too long. Hyunjin’s head tilted slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to read something in your movements.

The moment you stepped into your room and closed the door, Felix turned to you with an expression you didn’t entirely expect. His usual warm smile was replaced with something sharper, something knowing.

“Alright,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall. “Spill.”

You frowned, genuinely confused. “Spill what?”

Felix arched a brow, his lips quirking into a slight smirk. “Don’t play dumb. What’s going on with you three?”

Your stomach flipped, but you tried to keep your voice steady. “Nothing’s going on. What are you even talking about?”

Felix’s smirk faded slightly, replaced by a look of gentle concern. “You really don’t see it, do you?”

“See what?” you asked, pulling open a drawer to search for the cream.

Felix sighed, stepping closer. “The way they look at you. The way they act around you. It’s like... it’s so obvious. I don’t know how you’re so clueless.”

You froze, your hand hovering over the drawer’s contents. “Felix, they’re… you know. They’re gay.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then Felix let out a low, incredulous laugh, shaking his head as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. “Oh, sweetheart,” he said, stepping closer. “you’re so far off.”

Your brow furrowed as you turned to face him fully. “What do you mean? They’re gay. I’ve known them for years, Lix. They’ve never once mentioned being into girls. Not once. And the way they are with each other…” You trailed off, your voice losing conviction under Felix’s knowing stare.

“They’re not gay,” Felix said gently, his tone almost pitying. “Bisexual? Yeah, sure. But gay? Not even close.”

The words felt like they didn’t compute, like Felix had just told you the sky was green. “No way,” you said, shaking your head. “You’re messing with me.”

“I’m not,” Felix said, his voice soft but firm. “Look, I’ve known them longer than you have. And trust me, if you paid even a little attention, you’d notice the way they look at you.”

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, your chest tightening. “They don’t look at me any differently than they look at anyone else.”

Felix’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Are you serious right now? They’re constantly looking at you like you hung the moon. Hyunjin can’t go two seconds without finding some excuse to touch you, and Chan? The way he watches you when you’re not looking? It’s... intense.”

You felt heat rush to your face, your heart racing as you tried to process what he was saying. “That’s just how they are. They’re affectionate guys. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Felix tilted his head, giving you a look that was both skeptical and amused. “Affectionate, sure. But this? This is different you cant convince me otherwise. I’m not saying they’re in love with you or anything—” he paused, reconsidering. “Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if they were.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to sit down on the edge of your bed. “Felix, this is insane. They’ve never said anything. Never even hinted at anything.”

Felix sighed and crouched down in front of you, his hands resting lightly on your knees. “They’re careful, okay? They don’t want to scare you off. But as someone who’s been watching this dynamic for years, I’m telling you—you’re not seeing the whole picture.”

You stared at him, your thoughts spinning. The years of friendship, the countless nights spent together, the laughter, the teasing touches, the moments you’d brushed off as nothing more than camaraderie. Could he be right? Had you really been that oblivious?

Felix straightened up, offering you a small, encouraging smile. “Look, I’m not saying you have to do anything about it. But maybe... don’t dismiss it so quickly. Pay attention. You might be surprised.”

After the guys left, I had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours, Felix’s words looping endlessly in my head. They’re not gay. His voice echoed with conviction, and I felt ridiculous for letting it get to me. But I couldn’t stop replaying every touch, every look, every little thing that now felt heavier with meaning.

A soft knock on my door made me jump.

“Hey,” Chan’s voice came through, quiet but warm. “We’re hanging out in the living room. You coming?”

I hesitated before swinging my legs off the bed. “Yeah, give me a sec.”

When I padded into the living room, both of them looked up, Chan holding a beer, Hyunjin sprawled out on the couch, his sweatpants riding low on his hips. He’d swapped his shirt for a tank top, and the sharp lines of his collarbone and shoulders caught my attention for a second too long.

“Finally decided to join us, huh?” Chan teased, patting the spot next to him on the couch.

I sank down between them, their bodies close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off them.

“Sorry, I wasn’t much help earlier,” I murmured, picking at the hem of my sweater.

Hyunjin waved it off, his lips quirking into a small smile. “Don’t worry about it. But... you okay? You seemed distracted.”

“I’m fine,” I lied, glancing between them. The weight of their gazes felt different tonight—intense and questioning, like they were trying to read me.

Chan leaned back, resting his arm along the back of the couch behind me, his fingertips brushing my shoulder as his thumb started absentmindedly tracing small circles against my sweater.

“Sure doesn’t seem like it,” Hyunjin added, leaning forward, his elbows resting on his knees. His hair, still slightly damp from a shower, fell into his eyes as he tilted his head to look at me.

My cheeks burned. “I guess I’m just tired.”

“Tired, huh?” Chan’s voice was teasing, but his hand dropped lower, grazing my upper arm now. “Or did Felix say something?”

I froze, my pulse quickening. “Why would you think that?”

Hyunjin sat back, a slow smirk spreading across his face. “You tell us. He had you alone for a while, didn’t he?”

“He didn’t say anything,” I rushed out, but my voice betrayed me, shaky and uncertain.

Chan’s hand stilled against my arm, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. “Liar,” he said softly, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

Hyunjin leaned closer, his knee brushing against mine. “If something’s on your mind, you can tell us, you know.” His voice was low, smooth, and impossibly distracting.

I could feel the tension thickening in the room, their presence overwhelming. Chan’s touch lingered, Hyunjin’s closeness making it hard to think straight. They weren’t pushing, not exactly, but the way they looked at me—like they knew I was holding something back—made it impossible to escape the weight of Felix’s words.

They’re not gay. The thought sent a shiver down my spine, one I prayed they couldn’t see.

“I think…” I started, my voice quieter than I intended, “I think you two are… not what I thought you were.”

Hyunjin leaned in a little, and I could feel the weight of his gaze as it bore into me. “What do you mean?” His voice was still low, that calm authority I’d come to recognize from him.

I swallowed hard, forcing myself to meet their eyes. My chest tightened, heart pounding in my ears. “I thought… I thought you guys were just… you know, gay.” The words rushed out before I could stop them, leaving me exposed.

The silence between us stretched, thick and heavy, suffocating. Chan’s gaze flickered to Hyunjin for just a moment, his expression unreadable, before it landed back on me. He spoke, his voice low but steady. “Is that really what you think?” His tone was calm, but there was an edge to it, like he was searching for something.

“Yeah,” I blurted out, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks. “I’ve seen the way you two act around each other, and… I figured I, or any girl, must’ve been the last thing on your mind.”

Hyunjin’s eyes softened, the intensity of his usual gaze replaced by something else. He glanced at Chan again, who responded with a slight twitch of his lips—barely noticeable, but enough to make me feel like I’d just said something monumental.

“That’s what Felix told you, huh?” Hyunjin’s voice was calm, like he was probing for more. “What else did he say?”

I felt my voice tremble as I tried to process what was happening. “He said… you weren’t gay. And that… you were both into me”

The room was quiet for a moment, thick with anticipation. Hyunjin’s lips parted, and this time, he did speak. His voice was low, smooth, and tantalizingly close as he leaned in just enough for me to feel his breath ghosting across my skin, I had to let out a sharp exhale.

“Felix was right,” he said, his words slow, almost deliberate. “But I think he missed a few details.”

Chan didn’t move, his hand still resting on my arm. His gaze flickered down to my lips for a brief moment before meeting my eyes again, that made my breath catch.

“You’re not wrong,” he said softly, his voice low and deliberate. “But maybe you’re looking at us the wrong way.”

Before I could respond, Hyunjin’s hand brushed against my thigh, light but deliberate, sending a jolt of heat through me. “You think we don’t notice how you look at us?” he murmured, his voice low and smooth, almost a whisper. “How you press your pretty thighs together every time we get close?”

I couldn’t speak. The silence between us was thick with tension, the heat from their bodies so close to mine almost suffocating, but I couldn’t pull away. Not when their eyes were on me like that, not when their words were making everything inside me ache with anticipation.

Chan smiled, but it was different this time. There was no teasing, no joking. It was raw, and real, and it made my heart race even faster. “You thought we didn’t notice, didn’t you?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper. “But we’ve just been waiting for you to say something.”

The silence stretched, heavy and electric. My breath caught in my throat as Chan's gaze dropped to my lips, his fingers still brushing against my cheek. I didn’t move, couldn’t move, pinned by the sheer intensity of his eyes.

“Can I?” Chan asked softly, his voice rougher now.

I nodded, barely able to form a coherent thought.

And then his lips were on mine—warm, soft, and so much gentler than I expected. The kiss sent a jolt through my entire body. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, his touch firm but careful, as if testing the boundaries.

Before I could even process the sensation, I felt Hyunjin move. His hand left my thigh, but only so he could tilt my face toward him, his fingers light under my chin. My lips barely parted from Chan’s when Hyunjin leaned in, claiming my mouth with a kiss that was deeper, more urgent, but just as intoxicating.

My heart pounded against my ribcage, every nerve ending on fire. They moved with practiced ease, like this was something they’d thought about—planned, even. Chan’s hand stayed at the nape of my neck while Hyunjin’s fingers traced the curve of my jaw, grounding me in the surreal, overwhelming moment.

When they finally pulled back, I was left breathless, caught between them, my head spinning.

“You have no idea how long we’ve been waiting for this,” Chan murmured, his voice low and rough, his forehead resting lightly against mine.

Hyunjin smirked, his thumb grazing the corner of my lips. “And we’re just getting started.”

The tension in the room was heavy, and then suddenly, it snapped. Hyunjin stood abruptly, his dark eyes flashing with something unreadable. Without a word, he walked out, heading toward his room.

Chan lingered for a moment, his gaze flicking back to me as I sat there, frozen and flustered. His lips twitched into the faintest smirk, the kind that made my stomach flip.

“feel free to join,” he said simply, his voice low and smooth, before turning to follow Hyunjin.

My breath hitched, my heart racing as I sat there for what felt like an eternity, debating whether or not to move. The warmth of their touches, their words, lingered on my skin, pulling me out of my daze.

I stood on shaky legs, hesitating for only a second before following them down the dimly lit hallway. The air felt charged with anticipation, every step amplifying the pounding in my chest.

When I reached Hyunjin’s room, the door was ajar, and the sight that greeted me knocked the air out of my lungs. Hyunjin was already sprawled on his bed, shirtless, the soft light casting shadows over the sharp lines of his chest and arms. His gaze was fixed on me, intense and unwavering, his dark hair falling messily across his forehead.

Chan leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. “You’re not going to stand there all night, are you?” he teased, his voice a mixture of warmth and challenge.

I swallowed hard, stepping inside, my movements hesitant but drawn by a force I couldn’t fight.

Hyunjin shifted, patting the space beside him on the bed, his lips curving into a lazy grin. “Come here,” he said, his voice soft but commanding, and I felt my legs move before I could think.

Chan shut the door behind me, the soft click echoing in the quiet room as he joined us.

As I crossed the room, my steps unsteady, Hyunjin’s gaze never left mine. When I reached the bed, his hand stretched out, fingers brushing lightly against mine before he tugged me closer.

“Sit,” he murmured, his voice deep and low, and I obeyed, settling on the edge of the bed. The warmth of his skin seemed to radiate toward me, and the proximity made my heart pound harder.

Chan moved to stand nearby, his presence commanding as always. His shirt had ridden up slightly, revealing a sliver of toned skin that distracted me for just a moment too long. He noticed, of course, because Chan noticed everything, and the small smirk tugging at his lips told me he wasn’t going to let it slide.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said casually, his tone laced with amusement, “I think you’re making her nervous.”

Hyunjin’s hand trailed deliberately under the hem of my skirt, the warm press of his fingertips against my thigh making my breath hitch. His touch wasn’t rushed; it was languid, teasing.

“Am I?” he murmured, his voice low and muffled as he buried his face into the curve of my neck. The warmth of his breath and the slight scrape of his nose against my skin sent a shiver down my spine. My body betrayed me, leaning into his touch despite the overwhelming heat flooding my chest.

“Hyunjin,” Chan said again, though this time there was a warning in his tone, his amusement still evident. He stepped closer, standing beside the bed where I sat perched on the edge, barely holding myself together.

Hyunjin only chuckled against my neck, his lips grazing my skin briefly as his fingers traced small circles against my inner thigh. “What? She doesn’t seem to mind.” His voice was pure velvet, laced with mischief.

my eyes darted to Chan, his steady gaze locking with mine. There was something magnetic in the way he looked at me, something that made my stomach tighten. Without a word, he reached out, tilting my chin so I was forced to hold his gaze.

“Is that true?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing against my jaw. “You don’t mind?”

“I…” My words faltered, a soft moan slipping out before I could stop it. Hyunjin’s lips had found the sensitive spot just below my ear, his teeth grazing the delicate skin in a way that sent a jolt of heat straight through me. The combination of his warm breath and the light nip made my head tilt involuntarily, giving him more access.

“Hmm,” Hyunjin hummed against my neck, the vibration of his voice making my breath hitch.

Chan’s hand on my face tightened slightly, drawing my attention back to him. His dark eyes searched mine, his thumb brushing over my cheek as if to steady me—or maybe to steady himself. “Look at me,” he commanded softly, and I obeyed, despite the chaos Hyunjin was causing on my neck.

I didn’t trust myself to speak, so I shook my head, though the flutter in my chest betrayed the truth.

Chan stepped closer, towering over me as he leaned down, his hand brushing a strand of hair away from my face. “use your words princess,” he said softly, his voice dropping an octave.

Uncomfortable? That was the last thing I felt.

“You’re not,” I managed to whisper, my voice barely audible, and Hyunjin’s fingers squeezed my thigh just slightly in response.

Chan chuckled, the sound low and rich as he took a seat beside me. Now I was between them, their warmth encasing me, their attention so focused that it felt like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

“You’re shaking,” Hyunjin observed, his tone softer now, a stark contrast to the heat in his eyes.

“I’m not—” I started, but the slight quiver in my voice betrayed me again.

Chan leaned in closer, his hand joining Hyunjin’s on my other thigh. “really?,” he said gently, his touch steadying me even as it sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through me.

Hyunjin captured my lips in his with a fervor that made my breath hitch, his hand tightening on my waist as he pulled me flush against him. The kiss was hungry, every movement sending sparks through my body as his fingers trailed along my side.

Before I could process it, Chan was there too, his hand sliding up to cup my jaw as his lips found the curve of my neck. He moved slowly, deliberately, his breath hot against my skin as he kissed a path to my collarbone.

Hyunjin’s hands roamed, one gripping my thigh while the other cradled the back of my neck, angling my head so he could deepen the kiss. Chan’s hand brushed over Hyunjin’s on my leg, their touches overlapping, leaving me trembling under their attention.

“Perfect,” Chan murmured against my neck, his voice low and full of approval as he pulled back just enough to look at me. “You’re perfect.”

Hyunjin’s lips left mine, his dark eyes meeting Chan’s for a brief, heated exchange before he leaned in close; his teeth grazed the shell of my ear, sending a jolt of pleasure through me.

Chan’s lips were on mine then, softer but no less intense, his hand slipping beneath my sweater to rest on my breasts, his thumb brushing my nipples. Every touch, every kiss, felt like I was being unraveled piece by piece, leaving me entirely at their mercy.

Hyunjin’s hand slid further up my thigh, his fingers toying with the hem of my underwear as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against my cheek. “You’re so quiet,” he teased, his voice low and teasing. “Not like you at all.”

Chan chuckled softly against my lips, his hands steady as he lifted me effortlessly, setting me down in the middle of Hyunjin’s bed. The new position had my skirt riding up higher, and I could feel the intensity of their gazes as they both stood looking at me.

Hyunjin knelt in front of me, his hands spreading over my legs as he pushed them apart slightly, his gaze flicking to Chan before meeting mine. “You’re still holding back,” he murmured, leaning forward to press a kiss to the inside of my thigh, the gentleness of it making me shiver.

Chan moved behind me, his hands sliding around my waist, pulling me back against him. His lips found my neck again, pressing open-mouthed kisses along my skin.

The heat between us was almost unbearable. Hyunjin’s fingers finally pushed aside my underwear and started stroking where I wanted him the most, and I let out a soft gasp as his lips followed.

Chan’s grip on my waist tightened, his lips brushing against my ear as he whispered, “Let go. Let us take care of you.”

My hands found their way into Hyunjin’s hair, tugging slightly as his mouth worked magic on me. The sound of his quiet chuckle against my skin sent a fresh wave of heat through me, and I felt Chan’s lips curve into a smile against my shoulder; as he pushed hyunjin’s hand off my clit and replaced it with his own.

I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak—the way their touches overlapped, how their breaths mingled with mine, left me utterly undone. Hyunjin glanced up, his dark eyes meeting mine, a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knew exactly what he was doing to me.

“Look at you,” Hyunjin murmured, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan’s free hand slid under my shirt, his fingers picking at my nipples. “She’s sensitive,” Chan murmured, almost to himself, his voice carrying a note of awe that made my heart race even faster.

My head tipped back against Chan’s shoulder, a soft moan escaping my lips as Hyunjin’s tongue and chan’s fingers were making me see heaven.

Chan’s lips pressed against my neck, his teeth grazing my skin before he soothed the spot with his tongue, leaving a burning trail of sensation in his wake.

My body arched, every nerve igniting as waves of pleasure coursed through me, sharp and all-consuming. My nails dug into Hyunjin’s scalp, and his name left my lips in a breathless cry. His grip on my hips tightened, grounding me in the overwhelming sensation as his dark eyes bore into mine, filled with pride and hunger.

“That’s it,” chan murmured, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “cum for us princess.”

And I did, my breath came in soft gasps, my body still trembling as the rush of pleasure faded into a warm hum.

Chan’s hand slid up to my cheek, turning my face toward him. His eyes were heavy-lidded but soft, his thumb brushing my jaw as he whispered, “You’re so beautiful like this.” He leaned in, capturing my lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, his lips exploring mine as though he had all the time in the world.

Hyunjin pulled back finally, licking his lips like a hungry man. “Don’t think we’re done,” he said with a teasing lilt in his voice. His dark eyes roamed over me, taking in the sight of me flushed and breathless. “this was just the begining.”

“lie down, baby” chan demands, as he moved from behind me.

As I did, the guys started taking off their clothes urgently. And I couldn’t help but stare; they were gorgeous and they knew it.

Chan immediately layed on top of me, trapping me between his arms, his body hovering over me, and I realised just how big he actually was, from the corner of my eye I saw hyunjin get next to me in bed his grin was sharp, his fingers brushing over my calf with deliberate slowness as he settled beside me. “You’re in for it now,” he teased, his voice dripping with heat.

Chan didn’t waste a second. His lips were on mine, his cock pressing down on me, heavy and unyielding, I needed him so bad. His kiss was hungry, claiming, and I couldn’t stop the soft sound that escaped my lips as he deepened it.

Beside me, Hyunjin’s hand roamed my body, his touch electrifying against my skin. He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “You sound so sweet,” he muttered, his lips brushing the sensitive spot just below my ear.

Chan pulled back slightly, just enough for me to catch my breath before he entered me without a warning, as I let out a gasp. I felt utterly full of him.

Hyunjin’s mouth followed a slow, teasing path down my neck, his fingers now splayed possessively against my tits. His tongue darted out, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and I couldn’t stop the arch of my back as the tension built between us.

Chan’s thrusts, were precise and passionate. “You drive us insane, you know that?” he growled against my lips before capturing them again.

Hyunjin chuckled low. “oh she knows exactly what she’s doing,” he murmured, his voice like silk, his touch anything but gentle as he made his intentions clear.

They weren’t taking their time anymore—they were claiming me, and I was powerless to resist.

each thrust was sending waves of pleasure through me, making my thoughts scatter. Chan’s breath was hot against my lips as he muttered, “You feel better than I ever imagined.”

Hyunjin’s hands were everywhere, his fingers tracing fire over my skin. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispered, “You like this, don’t you? Both of us making you our own?” His voice was low, teasing, and it only heightened the ache pooling in my core.

I couldn’t respond, my voice caught in my throat as Chan’s pace quickened, his grip on my thighs firm and possessive. Hyunjin smirked at my lack of words, his hand cupping my face, forcing me to meet his gaze. “we spent years thinking about fucking you like this, you’re ours now” he murmured before his lips captured mine in a kiss that was just as consuming as Chan’s touch.

The build was maddening, chan’s relentless rhythm pushing was me to the edge. My hands gripped his shoulders tightly, my nails digging into his skin as I felt the tension coil tighter and tighter in my core. “Chan,” I gasped, his name spilling from my lips like a plea, my body trembling beneath him.

“Let go, baby,” he murmured against my ear, his voice rough with need. “I’ve got you.”

The release hit me like a tidal wave, my body arching as pleasure flooded every nerve. My cries filled the room, and Chan followed soon after, a guttural groan escaping him as his own climax overtook him. He pressed his forehead against mine, our breaths mingling, his weight grounding me as I came down from the high.

Before I could fully catch my breath, I felt Hyunjin’s hand slide up my leg, his touch firm yet tantalizing. “Don’t think I’m letting you off that easily,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He was on me in an instant, his lips finding mine in a searing kiss that reignited the fire in my veins.

“Turn over,” he commanded softly, his voice holding an edge of authority that made me shiver. Chan shifted, moving to the side to make space as Hyunjin positioned himself behind me, his hands gripping my hips. The anticipation was electric, and when he finally pushed into me, it was slow and deliberate, drawing out a moan that left no question about how much I wanted this.

“You’re stunning like this,” Hyunjin rasped, his movements starting to quicken, each one sending fresh sparks through my body. “I’ve been dying to have you like this.”

Chan, still close, leaned down to kiss me, his hand brushing the hair from my face as Hyunjin took control. I’m drooling at this point, and my legs were shaking due to the overstimulation.

the room was filled with my moans and hyunjin’s grunts, who was trying his best to last as long as possible.

“You’re so tight, baby” he groaned, the pressure on his cock making him go completely insane.

Eventually, he gave up, letting himself cum at the same time as me.

"Fuck," he breathed out, pulling out of me. He layed between me and chan.

"You did well, love," hyunjin whispered, making me smile despite how tired I was.

#bang chan imagines #bangchan smut #kpop smut #skz fanfic #skz imagines #skz smut #stray kids fanfic #stray kids hard hours #stray kids hard thoughts #hyunjin smut #hyunjin scenarios #kpop fic #bang chan hard hours #stray kids drabbles

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chaconnewon · 8 days ago

Text

심 재윤 ! ; you would do anything to see your bestfriend happy.

warnings: sub!jake x switch f!reader, begging, masturbation (m.), slight of praise kink, cum tasting, reader talks a lot, both of them are whipped, whiny jake, mdni ! ——

wc: 2k(2.227)

a/n: i came back from the death— proofread but since english is not my first language there could be mistakes !!! please, let me know and enjoy it(im thinking about a part two¿?)

you and jake have been friends for a while now. and if you were 100% sure about one thing about him was that he was shy around girls.

you could tell by how his hands trembled a little when female students approached him with any lame excuse to talk to him. his cheeks and ears were always red, almost burning. his puppy-like eyes were always searching for you like calling for help. and you found it cute, how can you not? jake wasn’t interested in them by any chance. sure he would talk to them and be polite because his mama raised a good boy but nothing further than a casual conversation.

it was late in the afternoon when jake dropped by your house, a handbag full of your favourite snacks. you two found a comfy spot in your bed as both of you took turns to update your day. he was first. you always wanted to hear him talk first. the way jake was expressive while talking about his interests made you feel kinda attracted. like a feeling you couldn’t quite tell. it didn’t mind you since it was pretty obvious jake was a good looking man with unique charisma. maybe way too much. you thought being kind of attracted to your best friend was the most normal thing on earth.

or you simply didn’t want to dig in too deep.

“. . . i’m telling you, they won't leave me alone.”

“what can I say? you’re very popular among the other students.”

jake furrowed his brows before answering.

“i only talk to you and the rest of the boys. every single day i find myself meeting people i’ve never seen in my life!”

“that’s how making friends works!” you replied, your voice laced with humor. “ what if you find the love of your life? you’re gonna miss it because of… shyness?”

“you’re right but—“

“also, there are sooo many pretty girls to kiss, no attachment, just enjoying the moment.”

the last sentence left him thinking. all these girls were interested in kissing him? like a whole make out and all? but most importantly, was he looking out for it? sometimes all that attention on jake made him uncomfortable, just wishing to avoid interactions with strangers just to get to you or his friends. jake never thought about kissing anyone.

at least not anyone that he didn’t know.

“but, uh… you kiss people for fun?”

“i think that's a part of kissing someone… you find someone you’re attracted to, or just someone who's pretty. what would you do then?”

“but isn’t it strange?”

you went silent for a couple minutes. his eyes seemed to shake with subtle agitation. his questions were avoiding answering you but you weren’t dumb, and soon you knew something what’s up.

before answering, you took time to meet his gaze. the way he was chewing his lip, fingers fidgeting with each other in some attempt to calm his nervousness. it wasn’t working though.

“jake… if you ever kissed someone, you would know how that’s not strange.” silence. his eyes dropped to his lap, evading your curious yet surprised look. “I'm assuming by your lack of response that, in fact, you haven't kissed anyone yet.”

“please don’t laugh at me.”

“why would i? it’s not a bad thing. you just didn't find that someone and that's alright. people have different concepts about the first kiss and—“

“i found her but i’m afraid because i dont know if i can do it right or not.” also she talks so fucking much he would’ve added.

“but it’s something normal, natural. you just aren't born knowing everything in life. you have to learn, to understand.”

jake parted his lips to say something but not a single noise went through his mouth. you were right and that made him feel at ease. but still his heart pounded fiercely inside his chest by simply thinking about kissing.

but not anyone.

kissing you.

the red-ish shade painting his cheeks was still there, and your gaze was still analyzing every movement or reaction by him. you’ve kissed people, sometimes for fun, sometimes blinded by desire but this time… the urge to smash your lips against your best friend's one was bigger. like something you couldn’t control.

“maybe… maybe we can try— if you want, of course. starting with some pecks, slow. there’s no rush.”

jake’s mouth hung open a little, processing what you just told him. you wanted to? you wanted to kiss him? his eyes were more than sparkling, trying to contain his hype, his need to scream because fuck, he couldn’t even imagine you would offer something like that to him.

“y–yeah, i mean. we can try.”

you giggled a little. jake used to be confident and funny around you but now was shuddering. like his confidence vanished the moment you suggested kissing each other would be a good idea.

“relax, okay? we are gonna start with something simple. you can always tell me to stop and I will, no questions. alright?”

he nodded, impossible for him to say anything out loud.

“i need you to speak, jake. say it with your words, it’s okay.”

your hand flew to his knee, caressing it slowly with your thumb.

“all right, it’s okay with me.”

you smiled at him, squeezing his leg a little.

next thing you did was to place the snacks aside, and crawl to be close to him. your knees were barely brushing his as you repositioned yourself closer. jake accommodated himself too, straightening his back and waiting for you to do something. you smiled, softly. you could read his mind at this point. jake was unsure what to do so he was waiting for you to take the lead.

after all, you were the one with way more experience than him.

your body leaned closer to him, your hands against the mattress to hold your weight as you finally pressed your lips against his.

the kiss stayed like that for a few seconds. no movements, no tongue, no nothing. just a gentle pressing against his plump, soft lips. jake’s heart beat faster, pounding hard into his ribcage and suddenly he felt so stupid for being this nervous by a simple peck. but in reality the kiss wasn’t the reason to be that nervous–it was you. the fact that he was kissing you was making his whole body tremble with anticipation.

after a few seconds you pulled back.

‘’was it okay?’’ you asked in a whisper, and you watched him nod.

before you can suggest anything more, his lips crashed onto your one again. started like before, a gentle press between both lips but he felt courage building inside him and took a step forward. his lips, unsure, started to move against yours. despite the intention his moves were clumsy but you found it adorable. you didn’t try to set a pace, you just matched his, making him familiar with that new emotion.

within minutes he seemed to understand what the whole kissing thing was about. his lips captured yours, pulling them slightly and then taking them again. slowly the tension between both of you started to feel heavy, and your hands found a place cupping his head, your left hand sinking in his fluffy hair, caressing it.

you moved away from the kiss to catch her breath, looking at his state. reddish lips a bit swollen, a darker shade of red more prominent on his cheeks. the image in front of you was impossible to not look at. now again you leaned close and attached your lips into his neck, kissing it with open-mouth kisses that left some trail of your own saliva, sucking gently whenever you had a chance.

jake’s hands gripped the sheets beneath him. all the new emotions he was feeling were starting to be too hard to handle, soft gasps leaving his lips. you took it as a green light, not stopping your commitment which was making him feel good. just where his pulse was beating rapidly, you sinked your teeth.

‘’y-y/n wait. . .’’

you stopped, you face contoured in concern. maybe you were pushing too hard for a first time. last thing you wanted was to make him uncomfortable.

jake struggled a bit seeking for words and you patiently waited, taking a peek of how rosy his cheeks were, or how shaky his hands were as well. you felt like he was avoiding your gaze and in fact, he was. you looked down, searching for something that told you what was crossing his mind.

until you noticed it.

a big, notorious bulge under his pants.

none of you said anything. it was normal, a natural reaction from the human body. if he was enjoying it that much, it made sense he was that hard. and to be honest, seeing how he grew an erection from a kiss, a simple kiss and a few touches on his neck, made you wet.

‘’jake.’’

he shook his head, embarrassed. you took his chin, tilting his head back a bit to make him look at you. jake chewed his lower lip nervously. what would you think about him? getting so hard for a kiss, almost so close to come… was embarrassing for him.

‘’i’m sorry i–’’

‘’hey, it’s okay, yeah? it’s a common reaction. do you want to stop?’’

he shook his head again, earning a smirk from you.

‘’does it hurt, mh? your crotch looks so tight…’’

jake swallowed hard at your words, eyes widening slightly but nodded anyway. fuck yeah it hurted, a lot. his hard dick was pressed against the uncomfortable clothes and them started to feel a bit damp. he needed a bit of relief.

your free hand traveled across his chest, fingers ghosting over. you could feel his muscles tensing. taking your time, your hand landed on top of his clothed boner, massaging it slowly. quickly jake shut his eyes down, his breath trembling. despites him being silent, he thrusts against your hand, asking wordlessly for more friction.

you unbuttoned his pants, taking him over his underwear. jake whimpered, eyes locked on your face now. his face was red, hot. along with his neck. you started to pump him slowly, with deliberate strokes, and it didn’t take long before soft moans escaped his lips. breathy. you continued until you felt him hard enough to free his dick from the remaining clothes. his cock twitched slightly by the sudden air hitting it directly, earning a soft hiss from him. jakes length was standing proud, a bit curved at the and his tip wet with some pre-cum. the view was amazing, and his shy attitude made it ten times better.

‘’show me how you make yourself good.’’ you whispered.

he hesitated for a moment, processing your words. you wanted him to jerk off in front of you? that scenario felt like a dream. even though his shaky hand reached his base, your tender yet firm demeanour made him feel, somehow, bold. jake started to slide his hand along his length, slow at first, feeling every mover, every squeeze. took a few minutes for him to gain a bit of confidence and start to pump faster, using his pre release as lube.

you watched him with hunger in your eyes, eyes glued at his hand. the heat between your legs was uncomfortable, your sticky panties pressed against your core. but tonight was for him, only for him. for his pleasure and adventure to explore what made him feel good. what he liked or not. and with that thought in mind, you placed your hand above his, setting a faster pace.

at that point, jake was a whiny mess. his chest raising and falling heavily, trying to stead his breathing but unable to. his lips puffy, red and wet by all the biting and licking he submitted them to.

‘’y/n shit– feels so good…’’

‘’does it?’’ he nodded, eagerly. ‘’look at you, all you body trembling, all your cheeks rosy… you look like a goddamn painting.’’

your words made him moan, arching his back. so, he was into a little praise? you wanted to test a bit further.

‘’did you like that? you like how pretty i tell you you look right now? how good are you taking our hands?’’ he whined, his legs starting to tremble anytime you opened your pretty yet filthy mouth.

‘’are you close?’’

‘’y–yes! so close…. keep going please—’’

he let go his hand, giving you full permission to masturbate him. and you did, fast and heavy. the wet noises filling the silent room. he gripped his sheets again and arched his back to you, feeling so, so close to cum.

‘’fuckfuckfuck– i’m cumming… please, can I?’’

as soon as you nodded, giving the permission he needed, warm sticky ropes of cum spurt off him, landing into your hand and his clothes. his body was shivering, moan after moan slipping through his lips until he couldn't anymore.

you lowered yourself as soon as he rode his orgasm, his soft dick sticky in your hand and you took your tongue off to lick a stripe of it, tasting him. he hissed, wide eyes looking at you.

‘’couldn't help it, jake.’’ you smiled, patting his hair with your free hand as his breath came to normality again. ‘’but we are not done yet.’’

#enhypen #enha x reader #enhypen hard hours #enhypen jake #jake x reader #jake smut #drabble #enhypen hard thoughts #chaconnewon

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nakedinthetrees · 7 months ago

Text

Patterns of Your Love

Neteyam x Human!Reader

✨Friendly Disclaimer: The content of this story contains aged-up characters! If this is something that makes you uncomfortable, please feel free to click or scroll away. The last thing I want is for anyone to read something they are uncomfortable with, however if you decide to interact with any negativity, you will be blocked from my blog as a result.

WARNINGS: 🔞MINORS DNI🔞, SMUT including fingering,thigh riding, p in v/m&f intercourse, dirty talk, pet names, size difference, interspecies relationship, alien genitalia

Word count~4340 Art work created by @zeroseydorum

The heat of the Pandoran sun radiated through the thick branches of the trees above where you and Neteyam laid in the plush grass of the forest. Neteyam’s eyes were closed, muscles relaxed as he allowed your small form to lay across his chest, his comparably large hand supporting your waist, caressing your side gently with a thumb. You were propped up on your forearms staring down at him intently, counting each of his calming breaths, noting the small occasional hums he would let slip as he exhaled. Your eyes drifted to his long braids, splayed out in the grass around his head like separate coinciding streams of water. A sliver of sunlight painted in a diagonal line across his face. Everything about him seemed so perfect. One of the things that had immediately caught your eyes about him was his stripes. They seemed thicker in comparison to the other na’vi. Decorating his body so beautifully. Every stripe seemed purposeful. Your eyes lingered on the angled pattern on his forehead, following their flow of movement across his face. With careful fingers you raise your hand, gently gliding the tips of your fingers along his cheekbone, tracing the stripe toward the center of his face until it trails off before moving your hand up toward his forehead. Stretching your index and middle fingers apart, you place them at his hairline then slowly move them down, following the slanted lines of his stripes, progressively closing your fingers as you reach the place in the center of his brow bone. A low hum rumbled in Neteyam’s throat as your fingers repeated the action, your own mind transfixed on him, ”That feels nice…” his voice breaks the silence in a smooth whisper, a relaxed smile growing on his lips, “Does it?” you whisper back, reflecting his own smile. Your question is met with a satisfied hum in response, prompting you to repeat the action a few more times, watching Neteyam relax further under your touch. Your hand drifts down toward his chest, fingers immediately caressing the thick stripes along his pectoral, noting the brief hitch in Neteyam’s breathing as your feathery touches move across his skin.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a slight chuckle in his voice, finally opening his eyes to look down at you. Your eyes meet his for a brief moment, returning his smile before glancing back down at the pattern on his skin, “Your stripes are so pretty” you reply, trailing your fingers down the center of his chest, noticing how his muscles tense slightly at your actions causing you to quirk a curious brow, “Is my big, mighty warrior sensitive?” You chuckle with a playful smirk. Neteyam moves his hand to caress your jaw carefully, shifting your gaze back to his own, his thumb wanting to press over your lips, mentally cursing the oxygen mask that guarded your face, “Do not tease me, little one” Neteyam scolds you with his own playful smile, “Besides… You know full well what you do to me.”. Your gaze fell from his face to his body once more, admiring his azure skin with your finger tips. As his chest faltered a bit from his shaky breath, a new idea formed in your mind. You shifted your gaze to the side of his head, where his nearly bunny-like ears flicked absentmindedly. Carefully you shift your weight forward, just enough to place your hands by the sides of his head without having to strain. Just as carefully you allow your hands to gently cup the Na’vi’s long ears, which flick a bit in response at the touch. “My yawne…” Neteyam warns in a low purr, his eyes now watching you closely in attempts to perhaps read your mind on whatever scheme you had conjured, “What are you thinking, little one?”, “Just… testing a quick theory” you whisper semi focused as you try to hide your smirk. The moment your thumb and index fingers shift to lightly pinch his ears, you get a reaction you would never expect from him; a shaky gasp sounds in the air, his muscles tighten beneath you just as his hands move to encompass your backside, holding you impossibly close to him. His ears now hot beneath the pads of your fingers.

Your lips loosen as you finally allow a giggle to break through them, giving another brush of your thumbs along his ears that sends shivers down Neteyam’s spine, delight painting your features while watching his eyes roll and flutter shut, only briefly. Although there is nothing particularly erotic about the rubbing of his ears, the expression and now sudden shift in the rising and falling of his chest, has your mind wandering elsewhere. Swinging a leg over his slim waist and placing your palms on his chest to steady yourself, you peer down at him with a feline smirk, “So the big tough kitty really is sensitive.”. When Neteyam’s eyes meet yours, his pupils are dilated, glazed with a softness you only ever see him give you and yet… you could swear part of that look held some sort of primal challenge. It’s when his large hands snake up your thighs that you understand the meaning of that look, “Perhaps… although aren’t humans more sensitive than na’vi?” He hums, purposely drawing out the words as his fingers purposefully caress your thighs as they make their way up to your hips, his thumbs massaging the divots there with the type of predatory gentleness that makes your pulse quicken.

“Your skin is much softer… your bodies are squishier…” Neteyam purrs, perhaps more to himself as his amber eyes follow the trailing of his hands whilst they give your hips a gentle squeeze before slowly moving upward, pushing beneath the fabric of your shirt to run his thumbs along your ribs, just under your breasts. His ears perk when the sound of your exo-pack mask enhances the sound of your staggered breathing, pulling the edge of his lips into a smirk, “See?”. You pull back out of his reach crossing your are over your chest defiantly, “What? You expect me not to react when you’re…” Neteyam cocks his head to the side, that same predatory look gleaming in his eyes. You blow out a hot breath in a fleeting attempt to slow your heart rate, momentarily fogging the glass of your mask, “Stop looking at me like that.”.

Neteyam chuckles, shifting his weight to anchor himself onto his elbows, simultaneously causing you to adjust your own weight as well to stop you from slipping down his abs. The position mimicking that of a lion getting ready to pounce, “And how, tawtute, am I looking at you?”, “Like a cat toying with its meal before devouring it.” You huff out a nervous laugh, noting the way he leans to one side to allow one of his arms free to cup your lower back, his thumb trailing along your spine, his face coming ever so slightly closer to yours, “Is that what my sky dancer wishes? To be devoured?” Not ‘sky person’, but ‘dancer’ because you were not a human fueled by greed or destruction. You were soft, gentle, free spirited, and his.

Yet as you stammer trying to find the words, Neteyam leans closer until his lips meet with the column of your throat, extinguishing your tongue of any protest or comeback you would’ve conjured and leaving it with only the ability to sigh, leaning into his touch, your fingers instinctually weaving through his braids. His hold on your lower back remains firm as he carefully shifts into a sitting position, his other hand holding the side of your face, to which you have zero hesitation in leaning into the warmth of his palm, presenting more of your neck to him. A low sultry purr answers your gesture in thanks as his lips begin leaving kiss after wet kiss along your throat while his hand at your lower back drifts up your torso, proceeding his conquest in teasing the underside of your breast. Your breath catches for a moment and Neteyam’s lips ascend to your ear, his exhale against it causing you to shiver, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth, “Shall we see what noises I can squeeze out of you?” Neteyam whispers, his hand making the shift to finally touch your aching breast, his fingers tracing along its peak before giving it an experimental squeeze to emphasize his words.

Your lips part as the warmth of his palm encompasses your mound, his calluses pulling at the sensitive skin of your peaked nipple with the motion in a way that has you immediately biting your lip again. A thud sounds from behind Neteyam at the impatient bat of his tail against the ground. While he was no stranger to this song and dance of trying to coax the most delicious sounds from you, it still made him somewhat annoyed when he didn’t get immediate results for his excursions. “How my sky dancer loves to play…” Neteyam murmurs against the skin of your neck, dragging his lips down to the peak of your collarbone, “Play as you like, yawne. I will have you singing soon enough.” he purrs, giving your breast in his hand a more assertive squeeze as his tongue glides back up the column of your throat, the fangs of his bottom jaw dragging slightly, in a way that has your body arching into him in response, finally drawing a sweet, lust coated whimper from your lips. You can feel Neteyam's satisfied smirk against your neck, as well as that same satisfaction forming into a firmness that is now pressing into you as you sit on his lap, “Miklor…”(beautiful sounding). Fuck if hearing him speak his mother tongue didn't instantly turn you into a puddle, then the clenching of your core would definitely do the trick. The growing need to have him impossibly closer, touching every inch of you, filling you, ebbed at the corners of your mind, beckoning desire to the forefront that had you squirming against the hardness that pressed against your clothed ass. The seam of your shorts grinding so deliciously against the thin fabric of his loincloth had Neteyam huffing out a ragged breath that sent a chill down your spine. Neteyam's hand pressed at your lower back, held you firmly against him, whilst the middle finger of his hand that remained under your shirt stroked tight, lazy circles around the perked bud of your breast, his mouth busy with adorning your neck in love bites for you to return to the lab with later, all of it dousing your body in heat, you wouldn't be surprised if the blood in your veins had become molten lava, “Teyam…” you coo, fisting your hands in his braids, a low purr rumbling in his chest at the sound, before using your hold on his braids to urge him back and off your neck, “No more playing,” you whisper breathlessly, wining your hips against him for emphasis, “please.”. He needed no further explanation of your wants, yet his eyes took in your body, possibilities of how this could go painting a string of pictures in his mind, by the hungry look in them. “Stand for me, ma'yawntu. Strip.” The command coming out gentle on his tongue as you watched you rise, his hand drifting behind himself to untie the knot of his loincloth, the minute your skin left his, his eyes never leaving your own for a moment, even as he tossed the flimsy garment to the side, perching to sit on his knees as he gave himself a long and slow stroke.

You swallowed the excess saliva that had manifested in your mouth at the sight as your hands moved to first remove your top, then your shoes, moving slowly in an effort to give him a good show. As you moved to remove your panties along with your shorts, Neteyam’s “No,” halted your movments, “Leave those for me.”. You obliged him, stepping out of your shorts and walking between his parted knees, Neteyam's hands instinctively reaching up to guide you, resting on your hips, pulling you closer until his lips met with your soft stomach. His thumbs slide over the band of your panties whilst he continue to leave kisses along your belly, his eyes lifting toward your own for only a moment, before his fingers delicately looping around the top of your panties, before pulling them gently down your legs. The scent of your bare arousal was enough to send a shiver through Neteyam’s spine, making his body go rigid, as his eyes rolled back before closing, his teeth nipping lovingly at your stomach that despite his restraint, had you yelping with slight surprise. “You complain a lot about my own playing, when you can't even seem to stop, yourself.” you protest, shifting your hips to avert his attention from your stomach down to the aching between your thighs. You hadn't even registered that one of Neteyam's hands had drifted down your leg, until you felt his calloused fingertips smoothing over your inner thigh, traveling higher and higher until two of them glide through your wet folds, just enough to part them.

Your pulse immediately jumps, your hands anchoring on his shoulders to steady yourself, “Mmn, but it is so fun to watch you squirm, yawne. It delights me to see my mate act so needy for me.” Neteyam purrs, dragging the lubricated fingers over your clit, slowly circling it whilst your hips buck at the touch, the nerves in your thighs demanding to close, which takes nearly every muscle in your body not to obey; to let Neteyam swirl your bundle of nerves and whined the forming knot in your stomach tighter, the mental leash you had on your vocal cords long forgotten, relinquishing sweet music for Neteyam's ears. “Awe, my sweet mate makes such pretty noises… tell me how good it feels, yawne.”. Your mind seems full of static, only being able to process the feeling of his fingers, the tightening in your core, your only response being to chase his fingers by swaying your hips along with him. “Uh- uh… use that pretty voice, love.” he urges, poking at your entrance with his fingertips for extra motivation. You swallow thickly, trying to steady your breathing as to try to make your voice as clear as possible, yet to no avail as your words come out nearly trembling, “It feels so good Teyam, I…I can hardly keep standing like this.”, “Oh?” and with that his fingers submerge themselves into your soaked cunt, scissoring twice to help with the stretch. The sound that breaks from you is like a song from the great mother herself, your fingernails digging into the blue muscles of his shoulder as your hips instinctively move against his hand, “More… more…”, “You want more, yawne? I've hardly started… so greedy.” Neteyam hums not sounding at all upset as his fingers curl against the spongy bit inside of you. “My greedy little sky dancer… I want to watch you dance for me…” he whispers, hot breath fanning against your ear and much to your dismay, Neteyam removes his fingers from within you, a whine that wasn't completely voluntary, following it from your throat.

Your growing pout causes Neteyam to chuckle as he shifts his weight slightly, still resting on his knees, but now sitting on his heels, the back of his hand now placed purposefully atop his thigh, his fingers still glistening with your juices now pointing skyward, “Sit.”. The command was simple enough, but you couldn’t stop the drifting of your eyes to the place between his thighs, where his cock twitched in eagerly. “That is for later, for now…” He curled his fingers in a sort of beckoning motion, “sit.”. You didn't recall how many steps it took until you were straddling Neteyam's thigh and you couldn't find it in you to care at the tips of his fingers brush your folds, his thumb gently swiping over your clit as you lowered yourself onto him, sinking his fingers back home. “Ahh~...” You moan as you sit completely on his thigh, with Neteyam now knuckle deep in your sex. “Mmnh you’re so warm inside, yawne.. so tight. Let us get you ready for more, hm? Dance…” he cooed sweetly, his fingers repeating that beckoning motion inside of you that serves as enough to jumpstart your movements. You grind your hips into his palm, your juices squelching below you with the motion. For a moment you see Neteyam's eyelids flutter, his lips curl back in the slightest of snarls, before settling for a look so heavy with lust it had you swearing under your breath, you nearly thought you'd combust at the sight alone. Sparing a glance between his legs once again, you witnessed the evidence of that look. His cock nearly red at the tip, twitching with each sway of your hips, as if he were imagining it inside of you instead of his fingers. You knew if you were his size, a na'vi, he wouldn't have wasted a second before burying himself in you, but alas, you were a fragile human. A small delicate thing that, despite whatever protests you could throw his way, you know that Neteyam would always take his time with you. “Eyes on me, yawne.” Neteyam says in more of a growl, as if just the sight of you looking at his was shredding his self control, yet before you could so much as lift your gaze- “Haah! Tey-.” he began bouncing his leg, thus you along with it, sending you up and down on his fingers at his will. Your fingernails nearly broke skin as you bounced atop his legs, moaning uncontrollably as he fucked you on his fingers.

Neteyam's gaze seemed to devour you like a piece of art; watching the each bounce of your breasts, the juices painting his palm and thigh, thrust after thrust how they pooled on his blue skin. It was almost to much, his cock was aching to the point of pain- and then he felt your touch on it's head, not even processing when or how your hand had gone from gripping his shoulder, to rolling his cock head in your palm and… fuck did it feel good. Too good. It was almost too easy to imagine pinning you on the forest floor, lining himself with your cunt and- No, you needed to finish first before he could have you. He needed to be sure you were ready for him. Your body trembled as Neteyam began curling his fingers repeatedly as he continued to bounce his leg, the mixed sensation throwing you into the merciful arms of release as you writhed and shook, mewling out in a hitched voice as you came undone. He continued, slowly the bouncing of his thigh and shifting his curling fingers in the massaging motion, letting you ride out your high. Neteyam huffed a small laugh as your forehead leaned against his chest for support, your breathing heavy and uneven. “You… you play too much, Teyam.”, this prompted another laugh as Neteyam lowered his knee, his free hand snaking from your hip to around your backside, as he carefully lowered you onto the plush grass. Once your back was flush against the ground, Neteyam now leaning over you, he withdrew his fingers, bringing them below pelvis to smear your lingering juices along his shaft, letting out a sigh at the contact, a sound that had your chest tightening. He had been so patient, so gentle, and now you would reward him for his efforts.

Slowly you spread your legs wide, bringing your knees to your chest, watching as Neteyam continued to give himself a few more pumps to ease the hurt. When his eyes finally lifted to see you spread before him, the sound that came from him was nothing, but primal need. He ran his tongue over his lips to moisten them as he carefully leaned down, bringing your face closer to his own until his forehead rested against yours. Despite the hunger, his amber eyes swam with so much Earth shattering love that you felt you could weep and perhaps it showed in your face, because Neteyam cooed your name so softly and sincerely you almost didn't hear it, before he raised his lips to kiss your hairline, once again mentally cursing the obstruction of your mask that kept him from kissing your lips. When he pulled away, it was only enough to weave a hand between you to guide his cock closer to where you both longed for him to be. At the feel of his tip prodding at your entrance, Neteyam leaned down to place a gentle kiss at your ear, whispering sweet praises as inch by delicious, suffocating, filling inch he pushed into you. The shudder that rippled down his back muscles as your tightness took hold of him, as if it would never let go. “Siltsan, ma’ syulang…” (Well done, my flower). As Neteyam looked up to take in your expression, he found your eyes closed, brows scrunched, but not in pain as you breathed, “I don't think I'll ever get used to that first thrust… thank Eywa.”.

Neteyam couldn't help, but chuckle before leaning down to bite your earlobe, “Such a dirty mouth on my mate…” he cooed, yet as you were about to retort, Neteyam pulled out slightly before plunging back in, his muscles flexing at the motion. “Ohh…shit…”, the curse natural on his tongue as again he thrusted slowly into you. The fifth time his tip pressed kissed your cervix, Neteyam had to bite back a growl. He was desperate, but he wouldn’t allow himself to throw caution to the wind, not just for your safety, but to savor this feeling for as long as he could. He maneuvered enough to set your legs over his shoulders, his knees spreading wider through the grass as he scooped an arm beneath your shoulders, pressing your front flush against his own seamlessly, like he was trying to get as close to you as possible- to force your bodies to become one and when he rolled his hips again, you rolled yours with him. Neteyam's ears pressed flat against the sides of his head and he let out a soft whimper, he was content to stay like this forever. “Teyam, please…” You begged, rolling your hips before he could move again, giving his cock a loving squeeze with a clench of your inner walls and with it, an invisible tether had broken loose. Neteyam reeled his hips back at the same steady pace he had, but when he drove back in, your body bucked with his. “Fuck! yes… like that… please.” and he did, again and again, faster, harder, until it was all he could do to bring your hips down onto each of his thrusts, driving your back into the grass each time. His lips were in a frenzy on your ears, neck and chest; wherever he could reach, you decorated your skin in wet kisses, nips, and licks and you couldn't find it within you to give a shit about how many marks he was leaving, not when it meant he was putting his claim on you in the most intimate way he could, Your body writhed and bucked beneath him, your legs that had been barking for being in the same position too long, had become an after thought as one ograsm began as another ended.

Only when Neteyam pulled away, wrapping your legs around his slim waist did you suddenly remember they needed relief, yet the euphoria of it was short lived as you were hauled into his lap, both arms wrapping around you as he somehow drove himself deeper at the new angle. Neteyam buried his face between your neck and shoulder, his grunts and moans lingering in your ear. He was close, the breathless whines that new fell from his lips indicated as much. So close you could feel the restraint in his thrusts, where one moment he pistoned into you, filling the space around you with wet slapping, the next he held your pelvis flush against his own as he ground himself into you. Your brows furrowed through your mask as his whines became more pitched, desperate you realized, like the finish line was nearly there, yet somehow out of reach. So you did what you could, clinging to him and whispering in his ear between moans, “I love you.”, “I love you.”, “My mate.”, “Mine.”, it was the last two words that clanged through him like a burst of energy as Neteyam gave a few rough thrusts, bringing your body to meet them each time, that he finally went over the edge, spilling as much of his seed as he could into you before it began to spill where you were still connected.

The moment he stilled inside of you, you both let out a sigh in unison, your bodies drenched with sweat, skin hot and sticky to the touch. It was when you each pulled back to look at each other that Neteyam’s eyes widened, taking in your body before him. “What? What's wrong?” You immediately ask, following his gaze, but that was all the proof you needed. From what you could see, your chest was littered with redish-purple spots, which you could only assume were on your neck as well, and then the embarrassment of having to walk into the lab like this hit. Neteyam merely laughed, trying as gentle as possible to lay you back down on the grass, withdrawing himself from you before laying on his side beside you. “You say my stripes are pretty, but I must say… I do find spots to be a good look on you.” then you laughed with him only after feining disapproval at his joke, giving his shoulder a playful shove before snuggling into his warmth.

Even rereading this story I'm super proud with how it turned out. I hope it holds up to everyone who read it previously and that new readers enjoy it as well.♡

Tag list: @luvv4j4ybe11, @sullybothersmate ,@yourfavwh0r3 @Awiltedpeony @xylianasblog @pandoraslxna @blue-slxt @hotdsworld @itchaboi-itchyboy @erenjaegerwifee

If you would like to be added or removed from a specific taglist, just let me know!

#avatar #avatar the way of water #Atwow #atwow fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #avatar smut #Neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #neteyam sully #neteyam smut #aged up characters #aged up au #neteyam x reader #Neteyam x y/n #neteyam x human reader

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togament · 1 year ago

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𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄.

sakura, ume, suo, kaji, kiryu, endo, togame.

"ever imagined how it'd be like to be in the mood with them but damn it. You're separated by distance? Mhm. I got just the thing for you."

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: PHONE SEGGS UH OH!, language language swearing swearing, AFAB!reader, ume switchy :o, endo's a fucking menace :((((, TOGAMMMMEEEEEEE *howls!!!!! barks foaming at the mouth*, toy usage, your man straight up “jorking it” and by it haha well lets justr say his peanits, degradation on endo's part--general seggsy time stuff and needy boyfriends, NSFW STUFF MINORS DON’T INTERACT PLS.

𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐑𝐀.

✦ gotta guide him through it. At first, he didn’t really see the appeal of it. Why do it over the phone when you could meet up instead. ✦ but OH once he’s in the zone though, ONCE HE UNDERSTANDS? SEES THE LIGHT????? I’m wishing your pussy good luck because you’re doing it often. ✦ your phone rings sometimes at 2 am and you’re met with a panting Sakura. He sounds so apologetic too — he’s fought against calling you and just handling it himself. But he couldn’t help it. He has to call you. To hear you. ✦ “Strokin’ my cock right now. F-fuck m’sorry but can ya touch yourself for me too? Couldn’t get ya outta my head and I—ngh.. Need t’cum. Please, baby. It’ll be quick. Promise.” ✦ narrator’s voice: it was in fact, not quick at all. ✦ he likes sending over voicemails at night when he knows you're alone, when he's needy (which is often). ✦ it's mostly just of him panting into the receiver, recalling the events of the day and how each thing you did turned him on. You often end up sending each other voicemails to quench the thirst but god damn it. That doesn't come close to fucking.

𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐘𝐀.

✦ another one of the ":o I don't see the appeal of phone sex when we could just see each other instead?" gang. He sees the vision real quick when you dropped something while you were talking though. You bent down to pick it up and let out a soft grunt. He couldn't stop his mind from wandering. ✦ BIG ON PRAISE. GRUNTS AND SIGHS INTO THE RECIEVER LIKE HIS LIFE DEPENDS ON IT. LOVES DOING IT WHILE HE'S LAYING DOWN, PANTS HURRIEDLY UNBUCKLED AND MESSY, SHIRT HAPHAZARDLY THROWN TO THE SIDE. PHONE WEDGED IN BETWEEN HIS CHEEK AND SHOULDER WHILE HE STARTS STROKING WITH ONE HAND AND THE OTHER TANGLED IN HIS HAIR, GRIPPING IT LIKE YOU WOULD--(gets dragged off stage kicking and screaming) ✦ big switch. He's Umemiya, after all. He's the feared and respected leader of the Bofurin for a damn reason. Very sweet when he's just in the mood on a random day, chuckling in between because that's just how the both of you are. It's fun! But when he hasn't seen you for a couple of days? Oh FUCK. When his voice would normally grow soft and whiney, has morphed into growled responses with him fucking his fist desperately, trying to remember how your cunt would swallow him whole. ✦ "G-Good girl, my good fuckin' girl. Filling your pussy up with that dildo you bought? Not good enough, huh?" he adds, grunting as he's imagining you fucking yourself with the dildo, panting and unsatisfied, knowing full well you need him filling you up instead. "I really miss you, babe. You'd look so pretty-gh-! Underneath me right now. So pretty." ✦ cums hard every time you're on call, grunting and wheezing out your name so desperately you almost feel like he's trying to summon you somehow. ✦ Thanks you for it too. It's cute!!! Ends with both of you cleaning yourselves up, still on call. You both often fall asleep together with your phones still on.

𝐒𝐔𝐎.

✦ you both call often. He just loves hearing your voice! Thing is, you never know when he's in the mood. But he somehow can tell whenever you are. What gave it away? Was it the way your breathing stilled when he let out a sigh when he stretched? Was it the way you tripped over your words when he lowered his voice just a tad? Was it when you were left speechless when he praised you for finishing a task you were putting off? Was his teasing working on you? Whoopsies. ✦ INSTRUCTIONAL WITH IT. He’s so good at directing you what to do. ✦ “Want you to imagine my fingers, dove. Why don’t you ease just two in for me? That’s my girl. Now curl them up a little. Keep your mind on me." ✦ you want him to feel good too :(((((( so you ask for him to do the same as you. Of course, he lets you beg a little first. Little did you know he was already fucking his fist before you even started. ✦ has one of your clothes or panties close by because he loves smelling them. He loves your scent. It helps him get off. Hell, he gets horny in public when he takes a whiff of your perfume. ✦ he gets more vocal when he cums and that’s when you KNOW for sure he’s jacking off while listening to you. String of expletives and grunts escape his lips while he spills onto his hand, dribbling down his knuckles while you’re riding out your high.

𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐅𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓.

𝐊𝐀𝐉𝐈.

✦ FILTHY. FILTHY. FILTHY. ✦ doesn't have much toys but he has a tenga flip and uses it whenever he calls you. Can’t just go full hand and lube. (Probably has a warmer for it too. Mhm. Yeah.) ✦ another "clothes stealer". Has stolen your panties and shirts a couple of times. ✦ you can hear the wet squelching through the phone whenever he thrusts. Whether it’s lube or his cum, you could never ever tell. ✦ AGAIN, FILTHY. SO SO SO SO FILTHY. ✦ “y’getting off to this, huh? Listening to me fuck my toy? Fuckin’ know you’re soaking wet for me now. Lemme hear it. Lemme hear my pussy.” ✦ “keep up with me. Don’t you fuckin’ cum until I say so.” He barks, but he ends up cumming before you. He’s still pumping his sensitive cock waaay after he’s released though. He wants to hear you fall apart. ✦ bites back his whimpers but when he cums? Jesus. He’s stuttering out your name, repeating it like a damn prayer.

𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐘𝐔.

✦ HAS SO MUCH TOYS HOLY FUCK. ✦ he sends over photos of them before he calls, wanting you (yes YOU, dear reader!) to pick the toy of the night!!! ✦ he’d much prefer doing your mutual masturbation over facetime but you suggested a voice call. Who is he to deny his princess? ✦ always opens with a syrupy sweet, “How’s my baby?” and eases you into it with him. He never starts without you or without your express approval. If you’re suddenly not in the mood, he gets it. It happens sometimes. You guys could just talk instead. ✦ praise praise praise. Whispers the raunchiest and sweetest things to you. Talks you through it, guides you. HE’S WAY TOO GOOD. ✦ “Need my pretty princess right now. Need ya to sit on my face—taste so good. Fuck… Your pretty little moans too. I’m addicted.” ✦ “Remember when I did that thing you liked with my tongue? Yeah? Want you to do that on your clit with your fingers. Circle around it f’me, princess. Mhm.. Oh? Not good enough? Need my piercing on it? Naughty.” ✦ PORNOGRAPHIC MOANS. SO FUCKING PRETTY??? You’ve asked for his permission to record some of them. Of course he lets you. ✦ sends photos of the aftermath if you want him to. His cum on his still clenched abs, his trimmed happy trail, over his belly button piercing. Yum. ✦ HAS DEFINITELY POSTED ON GWA YOU CANNOT CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE.(it’s JOI too :(((( he’s secretly dedicated some audios for you. May or may not have accidentally whispered your name in one of his jerk off with me audios too :(((((((( man I’m sobbing into my pillow. Nobody touch me.)

𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐎.

✦ you can’t look at this man and say he’s shit at phone sex. You can’t convince me otherwise. You just can’t. ✦ of course, he’s absolutely cracked at talking dirty to you. It’s always a mix of praise and degradation with him. ✦ he’d be happy if you just sent him nudes, really. But he’s over the moon once you suggested to do it over a call. Immediately is palming his hard on through his jeans while he’s waiting for you to pick up. Opens with a casual little, “hey, honey,” you wouldn’t know he’s practically going to town on his cock, hot to go. ✦ with how sweet he could be to you, he could be so, so fucking mean too. ✦ “My, my. That was such a pretty sound you just made. Wanna do that again for me? Wanna hear my pretty little cockslut begging for me while I fuck my fist. Yeaaah, just like that. Louder.” ✦ the type to send in voicemails at random times of the day. You know they’re exclusively for you since he’s practically chanting out your name while he fucks himself. You’ve made the mistake (plenty of times) of listening to some of them in public. Thank god your phone wasn’t on full volume but people definitely heard your boyfriend fucking his fist. ✦ you put him in his place when you get home by tying him down to the bed and edging him to hell and back and back again and back again and back again and—

𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄.

✦ THIS MANNN…. He knows how to use his voice. He KNOWS HOW TO USE HIS VOICE SOMEONE HOLD ME THE FUCK BACK— ✦ he really doesn't like texting. So you both often call each other at the end of the day when you're apart. You're often apart too, with work and with it taking you to different cities. He's home alone at your apartment with your pets, with your clothes beside him on the couch. See where this is going? :-)) ✦ "Miss ya. Fuck, I really miss ya. Even the cats miss yer constant yappin'-" he teases and he's palming his cock through his gray sweatpants when he hears you shoot a clever quip at him. "Mhh-doll, I really do fuckin' miss ya. Especially when we wake up in the mornin'? Yeah. When ya press yer ass up against me, miss how ya know how to touch me just right-" "Jo, are you touching yourself right now?" he has the gall to chuckle. "Wanna see?" He was so ready to switch to facetime, to show you how he's lazily dragging his fingers up and down his throbbing cock, gray sweatpants pulled down just enough to pull it out. But you wanna stay on the call. You're rushing to your bed, hand in your shorts as soon as you lay down. ✦ likes dirty talking. LOVES when you talk dirty to him back. He's whispering phrases like, "mhm, yeah?", "what do ya want me t'do to ya when you get back?", "what else, angel?" prodding you on, urging you to express your deepest desires to him because he's NEEDY NEEDY NEEDY. (He knows you're as eager as he is too) ✦ wants to cum with you so he edges himself until you say you're almost there. Wants to match your pace and tries to by listening to your breathing, the rhythm of your moans. Never fails to tell you he loves you after he cums. ✦ promises a huge surprise for you when you get back :-)

a/n: THESE WERE SO FUCKING FUN TO DO RRRRAAAAAHHHHHHHHHRHRHR!!!!!!!!!!!!! *insert werewolf ripping clothes open meme here* I hope you guys like it. The brainworms are wriggling mighty strong.

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vibelladonna · 3 months ago

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✑ 𝒿𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝜗𝜚 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒸𝒽𝑜𝒾𝒸𝑒! 𝓈𝑜𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝑔𝑒𝑜

𝓈𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: Oh boy… the two most possessive men in the whole damn game? Jealous!Sol & Jealous!Geo x Reader? Buckle up because this isn’t just a love triangle—it’s a full-on battlefield.

However, can't blame you for just messing around, testing the waters, seeing who got more jealous… and playing with fire gets you burned. You’re stuck in the middle, questioning every life choice that led you here.

What could possibly go wrong? (Spoiler: everything.)

𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: 18+ NO KIDS (Adults Only) This content contains mature themes unsuitable for children. Please respect the creator's intentions.

𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉: Anonymous! if you don't mind writing it, but jealous geo and sol, please??😭 Like they both like readers and are just silently jealous of one another? I am in desperate need of more fics of them interacting 🤧

Honestly, apologies in advance—I don’t sugarcoat things. A lot of my writing is rooted in realism and what I’m comfortable exploring. Soooo, if you were hoping for a lighthearted take… no chance.

[ 𝓂𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ]

Jelly.

By definition, jelly is something sweet. A glossy, semisolid spread made from fruit juice and sugar, boiled to a thick consistency. Some people like sweets. Some don’t. But jelly can also mean jealousy. That gnawing feeling of wanting something—someone—that belongs to someone else.

And in this case? That something was you.

Not a thing, not an object, but damn if it didn’t feel like you were the prize in some unspoken battle. A war waged in subtle glances, clenched fists, and an underlying tension so thick it could choke the air out of a room.

And the worst part? You never asked for this.

Okay, maybe you did lie—just a little. But you sure as hell didn’t expect the weight of two unreadable stares pinning you down like prey, like you were something to be fought over.

Not the way Sol’s fiery red-orange eyes would zero in whenever some random guy so much as breathed in your direction, his expression eerily blank, but his fingers twitching like he was already mapping out a murder scene in his head.

And definitely not the way Geo, with his usual I-don’t-give-a-fuck aquamarine gaze, would suddenly become conveniently absent the moment on the same random guy—only for poor bastard to show up the next day with a busted nose and now suddenly doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.

Okay, maybe you like this…

Because—let’s be real—having two tall, hot men practically fighting for your attention? Yeah… yeah, that was kinda hot. And a little pathetic. But were you about to stop them?

Absolutely not.

So far, Sol and Geo hadn’t actually thrown hands at each other yet, probably because they still wanted to stay on your good side. But whenever you were with one of them, the other just happened to be around, watching, lingering, acting like your personal shadow.

Meanwhile, some poor random guy so much as breathes in your direction, and suddenly, it’s a whole different story. If there was one thing you could count on, it was that Sol and Geo had very different ways of dealing with people who dared to show interest in you.

Sol? Oh, he didn’t just get jealous—he lived in it. Stewed in it. Let it simmer under his skin like a slow-burning fire, always one spark away from an explosion. It didn’t matter how harmless the situation was. Some poor, clueless guy so much as breathed in your direction, and suddenly, the whole atmosphere shifted.

Like earlier, when you were just trying to study in the library.

“Who was that?” Sol asked, voice eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that told you he was already two seconds away from tracking the guy down.

You didn’t even look up from your notes. “Don’t know. Just some guy.” That was, of course, the wrong answer.

Sol leaned in slightly, red-orange eyes narrowing. “He called you pretty.”

You finally looked up, raising a brow. “And? I am pretty, the hell.”

He didn’t laugh. Didn’t even crack a smirk. Just drummed his fingers on the table, his gaze locked onto the exit like he was memorizing the dude’s last known location.

You had no doubt that if you gave him a name, he’d find some way to make sure the guy never spoke to you again.

Geo, on the other hand? Possessive, sure. But jealous? Not really. If anything, his reaction was less ‘Who the fuck does this guy think he is?’ and more ‘Why the hell are you entertaining this bullshit?’

Like when you went to watch him practice archery after class. You’d barely been there ten minutes before some guy strolled up, all confidence and cologne, asking for your number like Geo wasn’t literally holding a weapon in his hands. You were scared for him.

You were about to respond—probably to reject the guy, but you had been taking your sweet time with it—when a sharp thunk split the air.

The guy flinched, eyes wide as he turned to see an arrow buried into the tree right next to his head.

Geo, standing a few feet away, barely spared him a glance as he reached for another arrow. “Oops,” he said, deadpan. “Must been the wind...”

The guy was gone instantly, practically tripping over himself as he made his escape.

You turned to Geo, unimpressed. “Seriously?”

He finally looked at you, one brow raised. “What? I didn’t do anything.” Yeah. Sure.

At this point you was probably wondering, ‘Oh my, oh my, if Sol and Geo are on good terms with you, do they ever have beef like you said? Or do they just straight-up ignore each other?’

Well… kinda.

It’s less of a mutual rivalry and more of a Sol has serious, undying beef with Geo, while Geo, in true Geo fashion, just casually ignores Sol’s entire existence.

Of course, you’d never hang out with them at the same time. That would be a death wish. You like your life drama-filled but intact, thank you very much. So, you very intentionally avoid situations where they’d have to be in the same room for longer than five seconds.

You keep your time with them separate—Sol on one day, Geo on another. Sol is more of your side friend group situation, hanging out with Hyugo, doing whatever chaotic shit they get into.

Meanwhile, Geo? He’s part of your main friend group—the one you’re actually seen with most of the time, which includes Brittany, Jericho, Jess, and Daryl.

However these been some days you’ll hang out with them along, just you and whoever. And because of this, there are definitely moments where you’ve caught Sol and Geo being jealous of each other.

Like the time you mentioned hanging out with Geo over the weekend, and Sol immediately went all dark and broody, arms crossed, staring at you like you’d just told him you were getting married and moving across the country.

“You spend a lot of time with him,” he muttered, voice low.

You blinked. “Yeah? And?”

“And I don’t like it.” Well... At least he was honest.

Geo, on the other hand, had a way of casually throwing shade when he wanted to. Like when you showed up to hang out with the main group after spending time with Sol.

“Didn’t think we’d see you today,” Geo remarked, arching a brow. “Figured you were off cutting your wrist with him.” I’m sooo sorry if this offensive to anyone.

You snorted awkwardly. “We were just hanging out.”

“Mhm. Sure.” He sipped his drink, giving you the most judgmental side-eye.

At the end of the day, you could ignore their little jealousy fits, but one thing was clear—Sol definitely had beef, and Geo just enjoyed playing unbothered while lowkey stirring the pot.

Then, so let’s talk about territory.

And let’s start with Sol.

Why Sol? Oh, I don’t know—he was fucking obvious.

He wasn’t subtle, and he didn’t care to be. You’d always catch his hand slipping around your shoulders, fingers ghosting over your waist—especially when Geo or your main group of friends were around. He didn’t just exist near you; he occupied your space, like some territorial cat refusing to let anyone else so much as breathe in your direction.

His touch? Not soft. Not casual. Possessive. Like he was making a statement without saying a single damn word.

It didn’t matter where you were—hallways, lunch, walking to class—Sol made sure everyone within a ten-foot radius knew exactly where you stood. And, more importantly, where he stood.

Right. Next. To. You.

Then there was Geo. He didn’t need all that. Where Sol was all hands-on, in-your-face, look-at-me-touching-you, Geo was smooth. Subtle. Calculated. Too composed for his own good, always watching, always analyzing.

He didn’t hover. He didn’t grab. He didn’t need to.

His presence alone was enough to send the message. The way he carried himself across campus—untouchable, like the world bent around him. When it came to you, he had his own ways of making sure people knew.

For example: the damn hoodie situation.

You didn’t even ask for his hoodie, but that didn’t stop him from throwing it on your face like you barely caught it. Cold? Hoodie. Raining? Hoodie. Forgot your jacket? Guess what? Hoodie. And it wasn’t just about keeping you warm—no, no. This was branding. Because that hoodie was his. And when people saw his deep-ass purple hoodie on you, it was like a silent warning: Don’t even try it.

And let’s not pretend like Geo didn’t notice when Sol was all over you. This man has SHARP EYES. But he’d play it cool, act like he didn’t care, keep his distance. But you knew he saw it. You could feel his eyes, sharp and assessing, calculating like he was taking inventory of every single move Sol made.

Now, if Sol ever really overstepped?

Oh, Geo would totally make his move. Not in front of you, though—he was way too clever for that. He didn’t need to start a scene. He didn’t need to flex his dominance in public.

Like for example, you’d start hearing rumors. Some random dude who tried to shoot his shot with you mysteriously walking around with a black eye or a swollen nose. The whispers would be everywhere. “Who the hell messed his ass up?”

And you’d know It was Geo. Handled quietly. Efficiently. Discreetly.

And if, by chance, you happened to notice the faint bruises on Geo’s knuckles the next day? Well. That was just something you didn’t bring up. Ever.

So, again, after everything, how do you feel about being possessed over by two men?

Like, at the end of the day, you were trapped—trapped between their heated stares, their possessiveness, their absolute refusal to let you exist without them staking their claim.

And you?

Oh, you were loving it, all in honesty.

What? If they were gonna play this game, you might as well play along. Hell, you held all the cards. You were the one pulling the strings, keeping them both on their toes, watching as they silently (and not-so-silently) battled for dominance over you.

Geo wanted to act all calm and cool?

Like he was above all of this? Fine. Let him pretend. You knew exactly what buttons to push to make him show his hand. A little too much laughter when another guy paid you a compliment. Casually mentioning how Sol was so protective over you. Flashing him that innocent, knowing smile whenever he tried to act like he wasn’t watching your every move.

And Sol? Sol was easy.

If he wanted to claim you with his rough touches, his dark glares, the way his arm would tighten around your waist just a little too much whenever another guy so much as looked at you—then you’d let him. But only just enough to keep things interesting.

Because you weren’t about to make this easy for either of them.

You’d walk into the room wearing Geo’s hoodie—just to watch Sol’s jaw clench. You’d let Sol touch you in front of Geo—just to catch the way his fingers twitched, his lips pressing into a thin line. You’d let their possessiveness fuel the game, and oh, was it a fun game to play.

Because at the end of the day, again...

You were the prize. And you knew it.

And what better way to start than with Geo?

Again, Geo was the kind of guy who never had to try too hard. Everything about him exuded effortless control—his tailored clothes, his rich upbringing, the way his hair was always just right like he walked straight out of some high-end fashion editorial.

Bilingual, top of his class, a sharp mind that dissected everything in the room before anyone even realized they were being watched.

Now, you wouldn’t call him perfect, but he was definitely a step above the average man. And that, in itself, was dangerous. Because Geo wasn’t just good at handling himself.

He was good at handling you. PFFF, I love this man.

And it was funny, really. He liked to act like he didn’t care—like he wasn’t watching your every move, like he wasn’t quietly attuned to your habits. But that was the biggest lie of all.

Geo noticed everything.

He knew when you were irritated before you even sighed. Knew you were hungry before you even glanced at the menu. Knew what to say to make you laugh, even when you swore you weren’t in the mood. He was calculated—never too distant, but never too obvious.

You knew exactly how to use Geo’s attentiveness to your advantage. He was clever, a little too clever sometimes, but that made him so much more fun to tease. So, when you casually invited him to hang out during one of your long gaps between classes—just the two of you—you made sure Sol was close enough to overhear.

You didn't even have to try hard.

Sol always seemed to be near where you were. Always.

He had this uncanny ability to be in the right spot at the right time. You'd find him lingering in the background, sometimes in doorways, sometimes leaning against walls like he was just passing by, yet always managing to stay just out of sight, barely making his presence known. The look in his eyes, though? You couldn’t miss it.

You watched as his gaze snapped to you the second you leaned in closer to Geo. His fingers twitched like he was holding back some kind of primal urge to pull you away from Geo. But he stayed still, just watching, quietly simmering with frustration.

When Geo agreed, his voice casual and smooth, "Sure, I got nothing better to do," you could almost feel the storm brewing behind you.

And you loved it.

You chose the place carefully. A small bakery, nestled just off-campus. It was cozy, and intimate, yet open enough that no one could barge in without causing a scene.

You knew Sol wouldn’t come in unless he had a reason—he wasn’t stupid, after all. It was one of those rare moments when you actually wanted some peace, to be able to enjoy your time with Geo without the constant interruption of Sol’s overbearing presence.

Geo sat across from you, his posture impeccable, legs crossed and back straight as if he was molded into the seat. His hands rested lightly on the table, fingers tapping softly, the rhythmic sound of it mingling with the soft hum of campus life around you.

Students typed away on their laptops, murmured conversations floated around you, and the occasional professor huddled in the corner grading papers. The place felt like the calm center of a storm—a comfortable space for both of you.

He looked at you, curiosity flashing in his eyes. "Why'd you pick here?" he asked, voice low, yet that sharp edge still noticeable beneath his calm facade. He propped his chin in his hand, elbow on the table, his fingers tapping idly against his cheek.

You shrugged, playing it cool. “I don’t know. The only place I can think of.”

Geo’s lips twitched then sighed, "Okay." His tone was amused, but there was an undeniable hint of intrigue there.

You both sat there for a moment, letting the tension simmer. Then, as if by instinct, Geo stood, his movements graceful and effortless. "You want anything? I'll pay" he asked, already moving toward the counter before you could even respond. See, what a man, he's paying already AND YOU DIDN'T EVEN HAVE TO ASKKK.

Minutes later, he returned, sliding your usual drink toward you—no questions asked. It was like he had memorized your preferences by heart. He placed a small plate beside it too, something extra—probably dessert, because he knew you liked sweets, and his attention to detail was uncanny.

You reached for it, your fingers brushing his in the process. It wasn’t intentional, but that fleeting touch sent a ripple through you. For a moment, neither of you pulled away.

Geo’s gaze flickered to your hand again, sharp and perceptive.

"Your hand," he murmured softly, his voice taking on that subtle edge of concern. His eyes dropped to the small scrape, and for a second, you felt like it was more than just a casual observation—like he was searching for something beneath the surface.

You blinked, unsure how to respond. "You can see that?"

You had almost forgotten about the scrape, honestly. It had happened the day before when you’d tripped going up the stairs—nothing serious, just a small misstep as you were rushing between classes. You remembered cursing under your breath as you caught yourself on the railing, but the scrape was just a small inconvenience, easily forgotten in the chaos of your day.

Geo didn’t answer immediately. His fingers reached out, slow and measured, brushing across the skin of your palm where the scrape had left a thin red line. His touch was light at first, just skimming over the wound, but then it became more deliberate, more intentional as if he was examining it for signs you couldn’t even see.

His fingers tilted your hand gently, his touch soft but firm, the warmth of his skin sending a shiver up your arm. The way he lingered, taking his time to inspect the scrape, felt almost… protective.

It wasn’t just the act of touching you—it was the focus, the way he seemed to memorize the small details, the way your skin felt against his. Holy shit.

"What happened?" He asked. Then, when his eyes lifted to meet yours again, the intensity in his gaze made your heart skip a beat. There was something more than concern there—something deeper, something soft that you couldn’t quite place.

"Why are you looking at me like that? The fuck," he asked his face now in disbelief, voice very much audible. His tone was almost conversational, but there was an edge to it, an unspoken command.

It was your face. And I MEAN YOUR FACE, eyes were shocked, and lips were barely open, still showing teeth. You hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the question. For some reason, you felt like you were being tested—like he wasn’t just asking about the scrape, but about you.

"It's nothing." You said, looking away, rather annoyed. Like damn, he always messes up moments like this. "To answer your question, I tripped going up the stairs yesterday," you said, your voice soft, trying to make it sound casual. "Nothing serious. I just lost my balance, and scraped my hand a little on the railing."

Geo didn’t respond right away. He just continued to watch you with that unreadable look in his eyes, like he was trying to figure out something you hadn’t said. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles again, slow and deliberate, and you felt the heat of his touch linger long after he pulled his hand away.

“I’m fine, really,” you murmured, trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze made it feel like there was more to this—more to him—than just a simple question about a scrape.

“Okay, if you say so,” he said, his voice low, his thumb lingering a moment longer as though he was reluctant to let go. The space between you seemed to shrink with every passing second, and you felt an undeniable pull, a magnetism that you weren’t sure you could escape.

And as he finally pulled back, letting your hand slip from his, you couldn’t help but feel that odd, electric tension still hanging in the air. If your heart skipped a beat at the lingering warmth from Geo’s touch, well… that was between you and him.

The next day, you were sitting next to Sol, his usual spot on the college roof where he always claimed the corner near the ledge, as his friend Hyugo went to town on the packed lunch Sol had made for him.

You could feel the tension in the air, thick and suffocating. Sol was pissed—furious, to be exact—but he wasn’t going to tell you that. Not directly. Oh no, that wasn’t his style. He wouldn’t admit to stalking you hanging out with Geo, not even in the vaguest sense. So, you had to work for it.

You hadn’t even taken a full bite of your food before Sol was already speaking. "You made lunch today?" he asked, his voice far too casual. But you could hear the undercurrent of something. Was it jealousy? Possessiveness?

You paused, spoon halfway to your mouth, and gave him a look so casually, "No, Geo made it for me," you answered nonchalantly, barely glancing at him.

That stopped Sol cold. You saw his grip on his water bottle tighten, his expression faltering for just a moment.

Hyugo, who had been enthusiastically chewing his food, even slowed down to glance at the both of you, like 'bitch what?'. "My little brother??" He blinked, the surprise in his voice unmistakable.

"Yeah," you said with a shrug, pushing your hair back out of your face. "We went out to a bakery yesterday. We had leftovers, so Geo made this for me and added his own cooking. Claim he had too much but I know he's lying,"

You made a show of taking a bite of that food, GEO's FOOD. Trying to act casual, but you could tell Sol was barely holding it together. His face remained unreadable, but you could practically feel the simmering irritation in the air.

"H-Have fun?" Sol’s voice suddenly went tight—too tight. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his gaze flickered between you and Hyugo as if he were struggling to hold back something.

You grinned, knowing exactly what was happening. "Yup."

Sol’s grip on his water bottle tightened even more, the plastic creaking under his fingers. "Really?" His voice was lower now, tinged with something darker. The possessiveness was unmistakable.

You leaned back slightly, savoring the moment. "Mhm. Geo’s actually pretty great company, you know."

And that was it. That was the exact moment you saw something snap in Sol’s expression. His jaw tightened, muscles twitching with barely contained rage. His gaze darkened to something dangerous, something you didn’t quite recognize but felt all the way down your spine. His hand, which had been resting on the ledge beside you, clenched into a fist, almost as if he were physically fighting the urge to pull you closer.

You could practically feel the heat radiating off him, the raw jealousy simmering beneath his calm exterior.

Next was Sol, of course.

You see, Sol was on the opposite end of the spectrum in terms of lifestyle compared to Geo. Dyed hair, dark clothes, the entire emo aesthetic. But damn, despite all that edge, Sol never failed to make your jaw drop with the simplest actions.

The way he carried himself, that intense gaze, the way his presence seemed to swallow the air around him. He was a walking contradiction—grungy yet perfectly composed, dangerous yet captivating.

You watched him for a moment, letting the silence stretch between you. Then, leaning slightly toward him, you tilted your head, voice light as you broke the tension. "So, Sol... what are you doing tonight?"

He glanced at you quickly, but then his eyes slid back toward the ground, pretending to be nonchalant. "Nothing, why?" His voice was cool, but you could tell he was listening, waiting for your next words with that quiet intensity of his.

"How about we do something together?" you asked casually, making sure to catch his gaze, letting him know this wasn’t just an idle suggestion. "A little... escape from the usual?" For a split second, you saw the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes—he wasn’t sure if he should be pissed or if he was genuinely interested.

You leaned in a little closer, watching his every move, waiting for the shift. "Maybe the arcade? Or the rooftop bar downtown?" you continued, a playful grin tugging at your lips as you named the places that were always ‘off-limits’ in some way—places where neither Geo nor any of his calculated controlled habits would be there to shadow you.

You could feel Sol’s pulse race, his curiosity piqued, but you both knew he wasn’t going to admit it.

His lips pressed into a thin line, and for a moment, he didn’t speak. You waited, knowing Sol was contemplating the idea with that unreadable look on his face. Then, with a slight shift in posture, he leaned back, crossing his arms. "Why not both?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with that underlying tension.

You couldn’t help but smirk, a triumphant little rush sweeping over you. "Thought you’d say that."

He tilted his head at you, a challenging gleam in his eyes. "You’re lucky I’m in the mood for it."

But you knew the truth: he wasn’t just in the mood for it. Sol was making this choice for a reason. He was staking his claim, showing you exactly what you meant to him, even if he wasn’t saying it outright.

"Let’s go then," you said, pushing up from the ledge and grabbing your bag. "I’ll drive."

You and Sol ended up at the arcade bar, the dim lighting, neon signs, and the sounds of games and laughter buzzing in the background. The place was filled with the usual mix of drunk college kids, rowdy groups playing shooting games, and couples lost in the flashing lights. The air smelled faintly of beer and popcorn, and the low hum of music blended with the clinking and clattering of game machines.

You walked up to the claw game, your eyes immediately spotting a small plush sitting just out of reach, nestled between other stuffed animals. A mischievous grin tugged at your lips as you studied the claw’s movement.

"Can you get it for me, Sol?" you asked innocently, but there was a hint of playful challenge in your tone.

Sol raised an eyebrow at you, his lips twitching into that familiar, knowing smirk. "I’m not your personal claw machine expert, you know."

"Oh, come on. You’re good with your hands, aren’t you?" you teased, turning your head to meet his gaze, making sure he saw the way your fingers twitched at the machine's controls.

Sol didn’t reply right away, just watching you, a flicker of amusement in his dark eyes. His gaze followed your every move, always studying you like you were some kind of puzzle he couldn’t quite crack. You didn’t expect him to move just yet, though—because you had a plan.

The claw machine was already set up for failure in your favor. You purposefully timed your moves to keep missing the plush, missing the claw’s target by mere inches each time. It was an art at this point, a silent dance between you and the machine.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sol stepping up behind you. The warmth of his body pressed against yours for just a moment, the heat of him radiating even through the buzz of the arcade. His breath was warm against your ear, and you could feel his chest rise and fall just behind you as he watched, his body too close for comfort, too close to be innocent.

“You’re missing the timing," Sol’s voice was low, almost a growl, as he leaned down just enough for his nose to brush against the side of your hair. You could feel the weight of his presence behind you, feel the way his hands hovered just above yours, ready to step in if you let him. "You need to wait for the claw to line up perfectly before you move it. Let it hang for a second longer."

You shivered slightly, the sound of his voice in your ear making something inside you stir. The combination of his closeness and the tension from the game made your heart race, your hand still hovering over the joystick.

"Show me," you murmured, your voice a little more breathless than you intended, the excitement of the moment taking over.

Sol didn’t hesitate. His hand brushed over yours, his long fingers wrapping around your wrist as he guided your movements, his body pressing further into yours. The subtle brush of his chest against your back made your breath hitch in your throat.

He adjusted your grip on the joystick, his fingers briefly brushing your skin as he gently moved your hand to line up the claw with the black cat. His breath, warm and steady, ghosted against your ear as he spoke again, a soft command mixed with a hint of amusement. "Now, wait for it…"

You could feel his heart beating against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the growing tension in your chest. His thumb brushed over your wrist lightly as you waited, the seconds dragging on forever.

And then, in a move so precise, you almost didn’t see it, the claw dipped down, catching the plush perfectly. You both watched in silence as it rose, bringing the plush toy closer and closer and finally dropping it into the prize chute. "Got it," you said, the words almost a whisper but filled with a triumphant smile.

Sol stepped back, his body leaving a sudden chill in the space where he’d just been pressed against you. You turned to face him, only to see the satisfied, yet somehow unreadable expression on his face.

He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you as you picked up the plush, holding it in your hands like it was some kind of prize—not just the one you won from the claw game.

"You’re welcome," Sol muttered under his breath, but the way his gaze lingered on you, the way his lips barely twitched into something close to a smirk, told you everything you needed to know.

The next day, after classes, you found yourself lounging in the usual spot outside the campus café, the one with the low-sunk benches and worn-out cushions, perfect for chilling when the afternoon sun warmed everything just right.

Crowe and Geo were the only ones free—everyone else was busy with their own afternoon classes, leaving the three of you with some time to kill.

You’d already had your morning classes earlier, just like Crowe and Geo, getting the heavy lifting out of the way so you could enjoy the rest of the day without the looming shadow of assignments or exams. It was quiet, just the hum of conversations from other students and the occasional passing car.

Crowe casually leaned back in his seat, fiddling with his phone, but then his gaze landed on the plush you had won at the arcade bar last night. The small plush sat beside you, nestled in your arms. It was barely noticeable unless you were paying attention, but Crowe definitely noticed.

"You went to the arcade bar last night, huh?" he remarked casually, lifting an eyebrow as his eyes flicked over to the plush. "Looks like you had fun. You win that?" He pointed to the black cat in your lap, a teasing smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You smirked, leaning back against the seat as you shrugged. "Yeah, had a pretty good time." You could almost feel Crowe’s curiosity growing, but you didn’t give him too much to work with. You weren’t sure if you were ready to delve into the details of your night just yet.

But before you could say anything else, Geo, who’d been unusually quiet up until now, spoke up, his tone casual yet probing. "Did you go with Brittany?" he asked, his gaze flickering briefly toward you as he leaned forward slightly.

You tilted your head, giving him a sideways glance. "No," you replied with a small, knowing smile. "I went with Sol."

Crowe’s eyes widened slightly at that, his interest piqued. "Sol?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "The guy you partner up with in your art gen ed?"

You nodded, glancing at Geo from the corner of your eye. "Yeah. That's him."

For a moment, the conversation seemed to stall. Geo’s expression didn’t change, but you could feel his energy shift slightly, the subtle tension in the air thickening. His eyes remained cool, distant, like always—but there was something just beneath the surface. A flicker. A brief crack in his calm, and then it was gone, leaving you wondering if you’d imagined it.

Crowe, however, seemed much more openly intrigued. "Didn't know you two hung out like that," he said, still grinning. "Interesting."

You met Geo's eyes again, but this time, he was looking at the table, fingers tapping lightly against his cup. His face was as unreadable as ever, but the way he had asked about Brittany—so focused, so sharp—left you with a sense of unease. It was subtle, but there.

You couldn’t help but watch him for a beat longer than necessary, but Geo’s cool demeanor didn’t crack. If he was feeling anything, he wasn’t showing it.

"Yeah," you said again, your voice quieter now as you let the weight of your words sink in. "Sol’s... something."

Crowe raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Something, huh?" He leaned in a little closer, his playful teasing tone back. "Sounds like you're keeping some secrets from us."

You just shrugged again, keeping the mystery between you all. You didn’t need to explain yourself. Not yet, anyway.

The rest of the conversation drifted off, but you could feel Geo’s eyes flicking to you every so often like he was sizing something up. Whether it was the situation, you, or something else entirely, you couldn’t quite tell.

But for now, you weren’t going to push.

After all, this had been going on for months now—stretching into the current year. Geo and Sol—two men who had wormed their way into your thoughts in ways you couldn’t quite understand. It wasn’t just when you were around them.

No, their presence lingered even when they weren’t there, like an unshakable hum in the back of your mind. It circled you constantly, like an orbit you couldn’t escape, especially as you sat in bed late at night, trying to focus on your homework.

Every time you’d start to make progress, one of them would pop into your head, their images uninvited and persistent.

Sometimes, you'd find yourself imagining them both vying for your attention at once—Geo, with his cool, almost aloof demeanor, and Sol, burning with that raw, intense energy he always carried.

You’d picture them both charming you at the same time, competing for your affections in some twisted game. You’d have to smack your head with a pillow to shake the thought loose, as if physical force could snap you back into reality.

Geo: the silent, brooding menace who could make you feel like the only person in the room with just a glance.

And then there was Sol: the human equivalent of a forest fire—intense, consuming, and just a little bit unhinged.

Each of them pulled at your heart in a very different way, and frankly? It was ruining your life.

Class should’ve been simple, but nope. Your mind kept spiraling between the two of them like some shamelessdaydreamer. This was supposed to be a harmless little game—a fun flirtation. You weren’t supposed to actually catch feelings.

And yet, here you were, caught in a ridiculous mental tug-of-war. You knew you couldn’t have both. You weren’t thatkind of person. Right?

…Right?

But the thought just wouldn’t leave. It sat there. Mocking you.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. It’s not like you could just—

…Oh god.

You couldn’t have a threesome with them.

That was insane. Insane.

You let out a quiet, awkward laugh at the mere idea of it. Geo and Sol? Together? Working together? As if. Those two could barely exist in the same airspace without someone looking ready to throw hands.

They’d sooner kill each other than ever—

…

Unless…

Before you could delve deeper into that increasingly absurd—and wildly tempting—thought, a voice cut through your spiraling thoughts.

"Hey, you good?"

You blinked, snapping back to reality, your thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. There was Sol, standing over you, his pen set down on the table in front of you. His hand—big and warm—reached out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear with a simple, almost gentle touch.

It was something so small, so subtle, but it completely threw you off.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you had to cough to cover the sudden rush of heat flooding your chest.

Shit.

"You sure?" Sol’s voice was low and steady, but there was a note of concern in it that caught you off guard. His eyes lingered on you, studying your face, as if trying to decipher what was going on behind your cool exterior. "That look on your face says otherwise."

You quickly shook your head, trying to brush it off, though you knew it didn’t quite work. “I’m fine, really,” you said, though your voice had a slight edge to it—irritation creeping in. Why was he always so perceptive? It made you uncomfortable.

Sol didn’t buy it. Of course, he didn’t. He stood there, watching you with that intense gaze of his, making you feel like he could see right through you. Maybe you weren’t fine. Maybe the situation was more complicated than you'd like to admit, and maybe, just maybe, he was the one who could throw you off balance with just a touch.

But no, you wouldn’t let him know that. Not yet. You were fine.

You were just… fine. Right?

Fuck no.

Art class ended, and the moment the bell rang, you bolted out of the classroom, making a quick escape. You needed to get away—fast. The building seemed endless, but you were determined to make it out as you pushed the glass door open before you ran into anyone who would slow you down.

But as you rounded the corner, you collided with something—no, someone. Strong arms caught you before you could stumble back. You looked up to find Geo standing there, an unreadable expression on his face, clearly waiting for you.

“Watch where you’re going,” Geo said, his voice steady, though there was an edge to it as he held you firmly. “Could’ve fallen.”

You sighed, rolling your eyes, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat from the sudden closeness. “I know,” you muttered, pulling away from his grip. But as you tried to step back, you could feel his gaze on you, like he could read you better than anyone else.

Oh shit.

“Something wrong?” Geo asked, his tone softer, more probing now. He tilted his head slightly, studying your face.

You didn’t want to deal with this. Not here. Not with half the school walking by, eyes glued to the scene. You couldn’t bring yourself to make this anything public—not when the whole damn hallway was buzzing with life. You didn’t want to be an exhibit.

“Nothing,” you snapped, avoiding his gaze as you turned to walk away, trying to make your steps as quick and purposeful as possible.

But of course, Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide. You could feel the weight of his footsteps behind you, steady like he wasn’t planning to let you go that easily.

You kept walking, the distance between you and him narrowing as he caught up with you, his presence heavy in the air.

“Don’t think I’m letting this go,” he said, his voice low and knowing.

You almost wanted to tell him to drop it. To stop following you. But you couldn’t find the words. You’d rather deal with this alone in your studio apartment at your dorm building. Maybe just let the work pile up, let the hours drag on. You didn’t want to have this conversation—not now, not in front of everyone.

But as Geo walked behind you, you knew one thing for sure: he wasn’t going to let you hide from it.

You walked briskly toward your dorm, eager for the quiet refuge of your room. The noise of the campus buzzed around you, but you barely registered it. You needed a moment to think, to breathe, to escape the tension that had been building all day.

Just as you rounded the corner, ready to slip inside the safety of your dorm building, your luck completely betrayed you.

Sol stood in front of the door, arms crossed, his usual playful smirk replaced by something that looked almost like frustration. Behind you, you could feel Geo’s presence, steady and unyielding.

He’d caught up to you.

“Can I help you?” you muttered, not bothering to hide the irritation in your voice as you stopped short, staring at Sol’s casual stance.

Sol’s eyes flickered to Geo for a moment before focusing back on you. “So, what’s going on?” His voice was laced with amusement, but there was a clear edge to it, like he knew something you weren’t saying.

Geo didn’t speak at first, standing just behind you, as if guarding the space between you and Sol. He wasn’t making any moves to push past, but his presence was unmistakable, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

You took a deep breath, hoping the annoyance that flared in your chest didn’t spill out as you spoke. “Nothing’s going on,” you said with heavy sigh, “I’m just trying to get to my dorm.”

“Oh, you’re trying to get to your dorm?” Sol repeated, his eyebrows lifting slightly, a mock sweetness to his voice. “How convenient. He’s with you.”

Geo shifted slightly behind you, his gaze on Sol but saying nothing. His silence was suffocating, like the calm before a storm, but you didn’t want to deal with it.

Not now. Not here.

“Seriously,” you said, your voice tight, trying to push past the bubbling frustration. “I’m not in the mood for this, okay? I’m not doing whatever game you two are playing. I just want some space.”

Sol stepped forward, blocking your path. “But space from what? From me? Or from Him?” He said, more like in a worried tone.

Your heart skipped, and the tension in your chest built up again. You had no idea what either of them wanted—if they were trying to get under your skin, if they were genuinely concerned, or if they just liked messing with you.

Either way, you were getting frustrated.

Geo finally spoke, his voice low and even. “There’s right. If they want space, they should get it.”

Sol’s gaze shifted to him, then back to you. His lips pressed together in the way he did when he was trying to hold back. But the tension between them was palpable. You could feel the pull of it, both of them watching you, waiting for something. You weren’t sure what it was, but you knew you didn’t want to find out.

“So what’s it going to be?” Sol asked, his tone still light but sharper now, like a blade hidden under velvet.

You were fucked, weren’t you?

Stuck between two guys who couldn’t seem to let you be, two men who both knew how to get to you in different ways. And for once, you didn’t know how to escape it. You didn’t know how to get them both to leave you alone.

You had to choose your next words carefully, but for the first time in a long time, you weren’t sure what the right choice even was.

The silence hung thick between you, Sol and Geo, both of them locked in a battle of wills without saying much—yet it felt like everything was being said. You could feel the tension in the air, thick enough to suffocate.

Then, with the smallest crack in the quiet, it started.

“You can’t seriously be this fucking oblivious, can you?” Sol’s voice was sharp, a knife-edge cutting through the air. His eyes flared with a familiar anger, but there was something else there now—something that definitely screams jealousy.

Geo didn’t back down.

“What the hell are you talking about?” His voice, obviously sturdy just annoyed.

“Oh, you’re really gonna act like you don’t know now?” Sol snapped, taking a step forward, his gaze never leaving Geo. "You can clearly see they not some fucking toy for you to keep playing with. Can’t you see there’s already fucking exhausted from all of this? From you”

The words hit like a punch, but they weren’t aimed at you—not directly. Still, you could feel the weight of them, as if they were pulling you in, squeezing tighter and tighter.

You stood there, frozen.

Your thoughts swirled in your mind—fuck this, you can’t deal with this now.

You wanted to scream, to tell them to shut up and let you go, but the words never came. Instead, you just stared at the ground, feeling the pressure of the moment pressing down on you.

“Exhausted?” Geo’s scoff was low, almost bitter.

“They haven’t said a word to me about being tired of anything.” His eyes flicked to you, but for once, you didn’t meet his gaze.

You couldn’t. It would make it worse.

it wasn’t long that your name fell upon Geo lips, looking down at you, you refused to look before he for you face to look at you.

"You have something to tell me?” Geo asked.

Fuck. Things are definitely worse now because with that sudden touch oh Sol? Yeah, he’s not having it anymore.

“Hey get your hands off them” Sol’s voice was nearly a growl now, and you could feel the heat radiating off him like he was a flame ready to burn everything down.

"I’m not letting you have them.”

Geo’s response was immediate, and the words were like steel. “Oh, I don’t have to take anything from you. I’m not the one chasing them around pretending to be thier fucking savior.”

You winced at the word savior. It felt like everything was crumbling in on itself. The walls that you had spent so long trying to keep up—between them, between your feelings, between yourself—were crumbling into dust.

And you didn’t stop them. You didn’t say a word. The argument, as much as it was annoying you, felt easier than breaking the silence. It felt better than picking a side, better than making this worse.

Instead, you just stood there, eyes glued to the floor however listen with your heart racing as the fight between them escalated. Every word, every accusation, every harsh tone felt like a dagger.

This is your fault, isn’t it?

Playing a game between two possessive men...

Yeah, you definitely fucked things up.

Sol stepped closer, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. “I’m not their savior. I just wanna make sure that they’re okay, you’re the one that’s stressing them."

Geo took a step forward, closing the space between them. “And who exactly said that? Last time I checked, you do not speak for them. How long are you gonna act like they belong to you, delusional ass.”

You could feel your pulse quicken as the anger between them seemed to rise, boiling over, threatening to explode. You were caught in the middle, a bystander to a fight that you caused.

And still, you did nothing. You didn’t speak, didn’t intervene. You just stood there, your heart hammering in your chest, trying to fight back the suffocating wave of frustration, fear, and exhaustion.

“Stop it,” you finally whispered, so quietly that neither of them seemed to hear it at first. But they were both too deep in their argument to notice.

"Stop," you said louder this time, your voice shaking but firm. “Just stop. I don’t want this.”

Geo and Sol froze at the sound of your voice, both of them pausing mid-sentence, and for a moment, you thought that maybe—just maybe—they might listen. But then Geo’s gaze shifted to you, his eyes filled with something unreadable.

“Look, I don’t need your help, either of you. I’m just… I just need some fucking space,” you said, your words sharp and exhausted, finally breaking the dam of silence that had been holding you in place.

You didn’t want to explain yourself anymore. .

Geo and Sol exchanged a brief, tense glance, but neither of them moved.

Your voice cracked slightly as you took another step back. “Please. Go away…”

Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, the weight of their eyes on your back like a burning brand. The silence between you all lingered as you left them standing there, words unfinished in the air.

You didn't know what would come next, but for now, you needed to be alone.

You slammed the door behind you, leaning your forehead against the cool wood for a moment, just to collect yourself. The weight of it all hit you then—every little mistake, every decision that had led to this point. Slowly, you slid down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as if holding yourself together was the only thing left you could do.

You hated this.

Hated the mess you’d made.

Hated that you thought you could handle it, that you could juggle them both without consequences. The worst part? You didn’t even really know what you were hoping for—what you thought would happen. You had an idea, but now that you were here, it felt like you’d just stepped into your own trap.

You cared for both of them, deeply. And as much as that made your chest ache, you couldn’t forget that they were adults, just like you. They were capable of making their own decisions, and this mess? It was your doing. You let it spiral.

With a deep sigh, you finally pulled off your shoes and tossed them aside, already thinking about the shower you desperately needed. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be chill by the time you were done.

But, fuck, who were you kidding?

This was far from over.

Meanwhile, Geo exhaled sharply through his nose, the tension in his shoulders growing with every missed shot. The arrow barely scraped the target this time, and he clicked his tongue in frustration.

It wasn’t like him to miss. His hands were steady, his breathing controlled—but his mind? His mind was an absolute mess.

Because of you.

Five damn calls. Five times he let it ring, only to get nothing in return. He had half a mind to try again, but instead, he shoved his phone into his pocket and shot off a final text.

I’ll leave you alone.

And yet, the moment he sent it, he regretted it. He didn't want to leave you alone. That was the whole problem, wasn’t it?

Before he could dwell on it, a voice cut through the air.

“So, you think you’re funny, huh?”

Geo didn’t even flinch. He already knew who it was before he turned his head. Sol was standing in the archery room now, door shut behind him, posture loose but his eyes sharp.

Geo rolled his eyes, lowering his bow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, emo.”

That was the last straw.

In a blink, Sol had grabbed him by the collar, yanking him forward, their faces inches apart. Geo barely had time to process the shift before Sol’s voice came low and dark.

“Don’t start that ignorant bullshit,” Sol growled, fingers tightening in Geo’s shirt. “I know exactly what you’re doing. You’re trying to make me look like an ass.”

Geo let out a breath of laughter, cool and effortless, but there was an edge to it. “Me? I didn’t do anything.” His smirk deepened the glint in his eye anything but apologetic. “You do that enough as it is.”

Sol’s grip tightened, knuckles whitening. His eyes were burning, brimming with something dangerously close to fury.

Geo just sighed.

Sol’s jaw twitched, his fingers still tight in Geo’s collar as he narrowed his eyes. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" His voice was low, filled with jealousy. "You’re obsessed. You keep trying to prove you’re better than me—so much so that you’d stoop this low?"

Geo let out a quiet scoff, his expression unreadable. "Obsessed?" He tilted his head slightly, considering the word. "If I were obsessed, you wouldn't even be able to breathe near them." His voice was smooth, even. "I trust them. I respect them. That’s what this is. You? You just want control."

Sol's grip wavered for half a second before his teeth clenched. "That’s some bullshit ass-kissing if I’ve ever heard it."

Geo’s smirk barely faltered. "And yet, you’re the one constantly up their ass for attention." He leaned in just slightly, voice dropping lower, colder. "How about you try treating them like a normal person instead of acting like you own them?"

Sol's expression darkened, however Geo didn’t move, didn’t even blink.

Damn, he really don’t care nonchalant ass.

Then, with deliberate slowness, Geo reached up and pried Sol’s fingers off his collar, brushing himself off as if the whole thing had been a minor inconvenience.

"I’d say grow up," Geo muttered, turning away, "but we both know that’s never happening."

Sol let out a short, humorless laugh. "I have no problem settling this with my fists, you know." His tone was sharp, a direct challenge.

Geo rolled his eyes, unimpressed. "Right, because that’s always worked so well for you." He adjusted the strap on his archery gear, not even looking at Sol as he spoke. "You can threaten me all you want, but we both know neither of us would like where that road leads."

Sol’s fingers twitched. His patience was razor-thin. "Tch." His brows furrowed, annoyance flickering across his face. "You always got that smug, rich asshole act going, huh?" He tilted his head, eyes narrowing. "News flash, dude—just because you’ve got money and pretty looking doesn’t mean you're better than me."

Geo finally turned to face him, completely unfazed. "Never said I was." He packed up the rest of his things, moving with an infuriating amount of calm. Then, as he reached the door, he paused. Looking over his shoulder, he sighed.

"And?" His voice was light, almost teasing. "At least I’m not some crazy ‘yandere’ lover."

That was it. Sol’s jaw clenched, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

Oh, this wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. Neither of them were backing down.

Not until you choose.

You stepped outside, and the cold hit you first—a stark contrast to the warmth of your dorm, where you had been holed up for the past week. The wind carried the faint chatter of students, the distant sound of traffic blending with the occasional echo of laughter.

The familiar scent of freshly brewed coffee from the campus café lingered in the air, but even that didn’t soothe the tension coiling in your chest.

The campus felt the same, unchanged as if the world had continued spinning without you. And yet, to you, everything felt different. The space between each step felt heavier, your mind was unwilling the overthink thoughts.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, fingers clenching the fabric as you moved toward the main part of campus. It should’ve felt freeing, stepping out again, stretching your legs after days of isolation. But instead, a strange unease settled in your gut, an unshakable tension that refused to leave.

You sighed, pulling out your phone, and you flicked through your notifications.

Missed Calls: 15+

Messages Unread: 10+

Both are from Sol and Geo.

You sighed, rolling your eyes at yourself. You really should call them back.

But which one?

If you called Geo first, Sol would find out—one way or another. If you called Sol, Geo would know. Those two could be halfway across the world from each other, and they’d still figure it out.

Just your luck.

You stared at your phone, thumb hovering over the screen. A part of you thought about just ignoring them both for another day—but you already knew that wouldn’t last.

So...

Who first?

✑ 𝓈𝑜𝓁

You inhaled deeply, feeling the moment's weight settle over you as you stared at Sol’s contact on your phone screen. The decision to finally call him had been a long time coming, but now that it was here, your stomach churned with the uncertainty of what might follow.

You tapped the screen, watching the call ring, each second stretching longer than the last.

The phone barely rang twice before he picked up.

"You finally decided to call," he said, his voice lower than usual—quieter, almost softer, but there was an edge to it. Not anger. Not relief. But something else that you couldn’t quite place. The words hung in the air, a strange mixture of resignation and something else that made your chest tighten.

You hesitated, guilt gnawing at your insides. You’d kept your distance for so long. Too long. And now, hearing his voice—so calm, but threaded with an unmistakable undercurrent of tension—it felt almost like a punch to the gut. "Yeah. I figured it was about time," you said, your voice steady despite the roiling anxiety beneath the surface.

There was a long pause on the other end, just the faintest sound of him exhaling—a sigh of sorts. You could almost hear the weight of the silence before he spoke again.

"You okay?"

The simplicity of the question threw you off. You expected sarcasm, irritation—hell, even some passive-aggressive jabs would’ve been easier to handle. But this? It was genuine. A rawness in his tone that cut through everything else. He was asking, not because he wanted something, but because he actually cared. And that scared you.

You swallowed, fighting the lump in your throat, unsure of how to answer. "I—yeah. I just needed time," you said, the words coming out quieter than you intended.

"I get that now," he replied after a beat, the faint rasp in his voice betraying something deeper. "But I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t like it."

His honesty hit you harder than you expected. It wasn’t what you wanted to hear, but somehow, it felt like a relief. Sol wasn’t the type to mince words, and in this moment, you knew exactly where he stood. You weren’t sure what you were expecting from this conversation, but it was clear that what you’d put off for so long was finally catching up to both of you.

There was another long silence, the kind that settled heavy between you, and you could almost feel him on the other side of the phone, waiting, unsure of what you were going to say next.

"Can we talk?" you asked, the words leaving your mouth before you could second-guess them. The finality of it surprised you—this was it. The moment you’d both been dancing around for too long.

Sol was quiet for a second, the kind of silence that stretched just a little too long, leaving you hanging on the edge of the conversation, wondering if you’d pushed him too far. You held your breath, waiting. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, though still laced with that familiar edge of uncertainty.

"You sure?" he asked, the words carrying a subtle weight, as though he were wondering if this was something you both could handle.

"I wouldn’t be calling if I wasn’t," you replied, your voice firmer now. You weren’t going to back down. You needed to talk. You needed answers. And maybe, just maybe, you needed him.

There was a shift in his tone, like a decision had been made. A soft exhale followed by the sound of movement on his end, maybe him shifting in his seat, maybe running a hand through his hair. You could almost picture it—Sol, leaning back, thinking, processing everything that had happened.

"All right," he said finally. "Art classroom. After classes. The door’s open."

The way he said it made your heart skip. It wasn’t just an invitation—it was a call to meet, a place where things could be sorted. He wasn’t forcing it, but there was no mistaking the gravity in his words. He wanted to talk, too.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding. "Okay," you replied, the single word carrying more weight than anything else you could’ve said.

"Good," Sol responded, his tone softer now. "See you then."

The call ended with a click, and for a moment, you just stood there, holding the phone in your hand, staring at the screen. You didn’t know what would happen next, but you couldn’t keep running anymore. Whatever was between you and Sol—it was time to face it.

Whatever happened, you would figure it out.

With a heavy sigh, you set the phone down, bracing yourself for whatever this conversation would bring. You couldn’t avoid it any longer.

The air outside was crisp, the warmth of the midday sun barely cutting through the lingering chill of early spring. Students filtered across the courtyard in waves, either rushing to their next class or loitering in clusters, laughing and chatting like nothing in the world could touch them.

You wished you could feel that kind of ease right now. Instead, the weight of unfinished business pressed against your chest as you stepped out of the building, prepared to put as much distance between yourself and the past week's tension as possible.

Then you saw him.

Geo.

Leaning against a pillar near the main walkway, his phone in hand, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t looking at you—not directly—but you knew him well enough to recognize the way his posture shifted, the subtle tilt of his head.

He’d been waiting for you. Your stomach tightened. Great.

Your grip on your bag strap tightened as you debated walking right past him. Maybe he’d let you go. Maybe you could avoid whatever this conversation was going to be—at least for a little longer.

But you knew better.

Geo wasn’t the type to let things slide, not when something was clearly bothering him. And sure enough, just as you tried to step around him, his voice cut through the noise of passing students.

"Hey."

You exhaled sharply, stopping in your tracks. “Hey, Geo.”

Finally, he lifted his gaze. Sharp, assessing—searching.

For what? You weren’t sure.

Whatever he saw in your face made something in his expression tighten, but he didn’t press immediately. Instead, he pushed off the pillar with an easy, practiced motion, sliding his hands into his pockets as he fell into step beside you.

Like this was normal. It wasn’t.

The silence stretched between you both, thick and heavy. You weren’t sure what to say, and for once, Geo didn’t immediately break it with some casual comment.

Then, a familiar voice cut through the tension.

"Okay, this is getting awkward as hell."

You turned to see Crowe standing a few feet away, arms crossed, one brow arched in amusement.

Geo scoffed. "No one's talking to you, Jericho.”

"Yeah, well, someone's gotta say it," Crowe shot back, stepping closer. He looked between you and Geo before sighing. "All right, real talk? You two need to clear the air, 'cause this weird-ass tension? It's making everyone uncomfortable."

Your stomach twisted. You knew it. Of course, the group had noticed. Even if you had spent the past week avoiding everyone, the energy between you and Geo—between you, Geo, and Sol—had lingered like a stain.

You exhaled sharply. "Crowe, not now."

"Then when?" Crowe challenged. "You can’t keep dodging this forever. And I know damn well Geo won’t drop it."

You flicked a glance at Geo, and sure enough, he was watching you carefully. He hadn’t denied it.

You rolled your shoulders, trying to shake the weight pressing down on you. “I just—” You cut yourself off, sighing again.

Geo spoke then, low and even. "I just want to talk."

It was that simple. Yet, it wasn’t.

Crowe tilted his head, giving you a pointed look. "So?"

You hesitated. You had already agreed to see Sol later. Adding Geo into the mix now? It felt like asking for trouble.

But at the same time…

You swallowed. “Fine. Let’s talk.”

Geo nodded once, slipping his hands into his pockets. Crowe grinned like he had just won something.

"Good. Now, I’m gonna leave before I end up in the middle of some dramatic lovers' quarrel." He spun on his heel and walked off, muttering under his breath about “...people and their complicated ass relationships.”

You took a slow breath, turning to Geo. “Where do you wanna do this?”

He gestured ahead. “Walk with me.”

You nodded. And with that, you fell into step beside him, feeling the weight of everything unsaid press down on you. Geo's silence as you walked together was unnerving, but not unusual. You had known him long enough to recognize when he was working something out in his head, dissecting information and piecing together a bigger picture.

And then—

"You're going to see him, aren't you?"

You froze for half a second before narrowing your eyes at him.

“How do you—”

Geo sighed, but there was no amusement in his expression.

"You just gave yourself away."

Fuck.

You clenched your jaw, shifting your bag higher on your shoulder. “.....I have to talk to him,” you admitted, voice measured.

Geo hummed, as if considering something, then tilted his head. "Because you like him?"

That stopped you. You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. The words were there, pressing against your tongue, but they refused to come out.

Geo exhaled sharply, leaning his head back before looking at you again, his usual cool demeanor cracking just slightly. "You need to stay away from him." His voice was firm, but not commanding—like he was trying to warn you rather than control you.

"He’s not what you think he is."

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Oh, what, you’re jealous now?”

Geo didn’t react right away, just watching you with an unreadable expression. You turned to leave, deciding you were done with this conversation, but before you could take more than two steps, his hand caught yours.

Not forcefully. Not to restrain. Just… holding.

You hesitated, glancing back at him. His fingers were warm around yours, his grip firm but careful.

Geo clicked his tongue in irritation. "I'm serious." His voice lost its usual arrogance, dipping into something quieter, something almost… uncertain. His brows pulled together just slightly, frustration flickering in his expression before he masked it again. "Believe me."

You hesitated, caught off guard by the shift in his tone. Geo wasn’t the type to plead, not like this.

Your fingers twitched at your side before you sighed, shaking your head. “Geo.” Your voice carried a tired edge. “I’m gonna see him. Whether you like it or not.”

His jaw clenched. "Use that brain of yours, dumbass," he muttered, irritation bleeding into his words. His usual smugness was still there, but it was strained—forced. "You can see it, can't you? That emo-ass dude isn't a good person."

You met his gaze, expecting the usual annoyed expression, the knowing glint in his eye. But there was none of that. Just something kept inside, something restless.

Still, you shook your head, unwilling to back down.

"I’ll figure things out myself."

Geo scoffed, but it lacked its usual bite. "Fine. It's your funeral," He didn’t stop you. Just shoved his hands into his pockets, watching as you walked away—like he wanted to say more but didn’t know how.

The sun had already begun to set when you strolled to the art building, the cool evening air wrapping around you in a bracing hug. The campus was quieter than usual, the incessant buzz of student chatter silenced by the soft murmur of distant conversations and the occasional crackle of leaves.

You walked down the corridor, your footsteps rustling softly against the floors, and arrived at the door to the art studio.

You paused for a single second, your hand hovering over the doorknob, before turning it and entering. The room was little illuminated, the golden yellow tones of the dying sun seeping in through the high windows, lighting the lengthening shadows thrown across the scattered easels and unfinished works.

The smell of paint and graphite filled the air, a welcome familiarity. The soft rumble of a heater vibrated through the room, and the soft whisper of papers as someone shifted around was the only sound.

And there he was.

Sol was sitting on a stool in the center of the room, a sketchpad resting on his knees. His dark hair fell just a little too long over his eyes, his usual brooding expression eased in concentration. He didn't even notice you at first, completely absorbed in the pencil gliding across the paper.

You stood there for a moment, watching him, the way the soft light caught on his face, the tension in his posture, the slight frown of concentration as his hand glided with practiced ease.

It was like a moment frozen in time.

You almost didn’t want to interrupt him. But then, just as you made a move to step forward, Sol looked up. His eyes met yours with that piercing gaze of his, dark and unreadable for a brief second. He blinked, his pencil pausing mid-air, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other.

He stood up slowly, pushing the stool back with a faint scrape of metal against the floor. His movements were deliberate, almost hesitant, as though he hadn’t quite expected you to actually show up. He stepped toward you, and you could feel the weight of his gaze settle on you like a heavy cloud.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Sol said, his voice low and slightly rough, like he had been waiting for this moment for a while. He took a few steps closer, his hands shifting awkwardly, unsure of what to do with them.

You didn’t answer right away, still trying to calm the nervous flutter in your chest. The tension between you two was thick enough to cut with a knife, but you had come here for a reason, and you weren’t going to back out now.

“Sol…” you started, your voice almost too quiet against the stillness of the room. You cleared your throat, meeting his eyes. “We need to talk.”

His expression shifted, ever so slightly, but you could tell he understood what you meant. There was a moment of hesitation, his lips pressing together tightly, before he nodded once, slowly.

“Yeah,” he said, his voice steady but with an undercurrent of something unreadable. “We do.”

He didn’t say anything else, just stood there for a second, letting the silence stretch out between you both. The space between you was intimate in a way that was almost suffocating, but you didn’t back away.

“I guess…” Sol started, breaking the silence with a soft chuckle, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “It’s a good thing you came. I didn’t have anything better to do.” He paused, running a hand through his hair, his expression turning more serious.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?”

You chuckled softly, the sound almost a little hollow in the heavy atmosphere of the room. The absurdity of it all hit you then—how this had escalated, how you’d been caught between two men who seemed to be competing for your attention in ways you couldn’t quite understand or even fully control.

You couldn’t help but find it almost funny, the way both Geo and Sol had turned their jealousy into some kind of twisted competition, each trying to outdo the other. It had felt like a game at first, but now? Now, it was starting to weigh on you.

"You know," you said, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you finally broke the silence, "...it’s funny. The way you and Geo both get all... jealous. Like you both think it’s some sort of competition to see who can make me crack first."

Sol’s eyes narrowed slightly, a shift in his expression that you recognized. But you weren’t done yet.

"You both get under each other’s skin so easily, and it's... honestly kind of funny watching you two try to outdo each other," you continued, leaning against the edge of a nearby desk, arms folded. "But it’s exhausting too, don’t you think? Playing these mind games."

Sol stood there, jaw tight, his hands twitching by his sides as if he were trying to hold back whatever he wanted to say. His silence only fueled your need to vent more.

"Who’s more jealous?" you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you could even stop them. "You? Or Geo?"

Sol’s expression didn’t shift. He was standing there, his eyes scanning you, but you could see the flicker of frustration in them.

You could feel the tension rising, but you didn’t want to be here anymore—not like this.

The whole situation, the constant pull between them, was overwhelming, and it wasn’t just because they were being possessive. It was because you cared about both of them in ways you didn’t know how to explain.

You paused and shook your head, dropping your arms from your chest. “You know what? I can’t do this anymore.”

Sol’s gaze softened just a fraction as you spoke, and he stepped a little closer to you, though he was still keeping a distance. “Can’t do what?” he asked, his voice quieter, less biting now.

You sighed, your mind spinning. "I don’t want to be a part of this game anymore. The whole back and forth, the jealousy. I need peace." Your voice cracked slightly, and you hated how vulnerable it made you feel. "I don’t want to be the prize in some stupid contest."

Sol’s lips pressed into a thin line, his expression unreadable. There was a long, heavy pause as you stared at him, fighting the urge to turn away.

“You’re here to let me down, then?” he asked, his voice rougher now, a hint of something darker in it that sent a chill down your spine. He was looking at you like he didn’t know what to make of you anymore.

"No," you said, shaking your head quickly. "I’m not here to let you down." You took a breath, steadying yourself before continuing.

"I just… I like you. I do." You started.

"I like you more than I care to admit, and that’s the truth."

There. You said it. Happy?

Out loud, right in front of him. Sad?

You had to admit it at some point, and there was no better time than now. It felt like a weight lifted off your chest, though the air still felt thick with tension.

Yeah, you lowkey still cared for Geo, but when it came down to it, you realized it was Sol you were drawn to the most.

His intensity, the way he never seemed to need to explain himself, the way he got under your skin without even trying—it had all tangled together in your mind in ways you couldn't ignore anymore.

Sol stared at you for a long moment, his gaze softening just slightly, but still guarded. He didn’t speak right away, and the silence between you both felt suffocating. His eyes flickered between your face and your lips as if trying to read you, understand you, but it seemed like you had caught him off guard.

"I..." he started, then paused, like he was choosing his words carefully. "You don’t know how fucked up this is," he muttered under his breath, his voice low. "I didn’t think you’d actually come here and say that."

You could feel the weight of the moment pressing in, everything hanging between the two of you. But you didn't regret it. Not really.

“I needed to say it,” you whispered, your gaze meeting his with as much certainty as you could muster. "I’m done with the games, Sol."

He took a step closer to you, his hand reaching out, but he didn’t touch you—not yet. He was still watching you, trying to figure out where you stood, and where this would go next.

Then suddenness of Sol’s movement caught you completely off guard. One moment, he was standing in front of you, his expression guarded and intense, and the next, he had you in his arms, lifting you effortlessly off the ground.

Before you could react, he spun you around and placed you against the cold surface of one of the long tables in the empty art classroom. The sound of it echoed in the otherwise quiet room, but you couldn’t focus on that.

All you could focus on was him.

His body was pressed against yours, pinning you down, and you felt the heat radiating off him. The sharpness in his gaze was unmistakable, his red-orange eyes darker now, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but could feel in your bones—a hunger, a possessiveness. He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, and you froze, caught in the intensity of the moment.

"Sol," you whispered, your voice shaking with a mix of uncertainty and something else, something you couldn’t quite understand.

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, his hand grabbed your wrist, holding it down on the table beside you with a strength that left no room for resistance. You could feel the pressure of his grip, the way he was keeping you in place, making sure you didn’t move. His thumb brushed lightly over your pulse, sending a chill through you as his gaze lowered to your lips.

"I’ve been waiting for this," he murmured, his voice rough, as if it were a secret he’d been dying to share. "I should’ve made you mine sooner, pumpkin. Shouldn’t have let you slip away, should’ve known you were mine from the start."

Before you could respond, before you could even process the words, his lips crashed onto yours. It was fierce, desperate, and possessive, his kiss taking control immediately. His mouth was hot, demanding, and he pulled you closer, using his hold on your wrist to keep you trapped beneath him.

Your breath caught in your throat as his lips moved against yours, and the more you tried to breathe, the tighter he pulled you. His body felt like a weight on top of you, keeping you locked in place. You tried to pull away, to create some distance, but his grip on your wrist tightened, and he growled low in his throat, making it clear that escape was not an option.

Sol pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes burning with an intensity that made you shiver. His breath was coming in shallow gasps, his chest rising and falling as he stared down at you, his lips still slightly parted from the kiss.

"You’re mine now, pumpkin," he murmured, the words soft—too soft—but laced with something undeniable. Something that curled around you like chains, invisible but unbreakable. His fingers brushed against your skin, gently, but you knew better. There was nothing gentle about him, not when he looked at you like that.

His eyes, dark and unwavering, held yours captive. “I’ll keep you close. Not Geo, not anyone… Just me.”

The way he said it, sweet like a lover’s promise, yet suffocating in its certainty, sent a slow, creeping shiver down your spine. This wasn’t affection. It wasn’t even love. It was something else—something unshakable, something that left no room for escape.

His hold tightened, his lips ghosting over your ear as his breath fanned against your skin. “I’ll make sure you never forget that,” he whispered, the words sinking in like a vow, like a sentence.

Your breath hitched. The room felt smaller. His grip on your wrist, the weight of his presence—everything about him pulled you deeper into something you weren’t sure you’d ever get out of.

Sol wasn’t just the man you liked anymore. He was something more, something dangerous. And as much as you wanted to fight it, to pull away, the terrifying truth settled in the pit of your stomach.

You weren’t going anywhere.

Not unless he allowed it.

✑ 𝑔𝑒𝑜

He's longer; sorry, I’m biased.

You stared at your phone for a long moment, the weight of your decision pressing down on you. You had spent the last week cooped up in your dorm, tangled in your own thoughts, unable to find peace with yourself or with them.

Sol and Geo... the constant pull between them had turned everything into a confusing mess.

But now? You needed clarity. You needed someone who wouldn’t add more fuel to the fire, someone who would just listen without trying to one-up the other. Maybe you were kidding yourself—because this was Geo, after all. But you needed this.

Taking a deep breath, you hovered your fingers over the screen, glancing at the missed calls again. Your pulse was racing, the anxiety of the choice settling in your chest. The last thing you wanted was to face this alone—but you also didn’t want to avoid it.

After what felt like an eternity, you made the decision.

You called Geo.

It rang one time before his voice answered, and you immediately felt the coldness in his tone, like he doesn't care but he's been secretly been waiting for this call.

“Hey, you cool now?”

Yeah he's definitely upset but also quiet concern hidden beneath his brooding ass personality.

You rolled your eyes but also tried to steady your breath, the weight of everything crashing down on you all at once. You didn’t know how to explain it, so you didn’t try to. Instead, you just said what you needed to say.

“I... I need to talk to you. Can we meet somewhere?”

There was a pause on the other end, and for a moment, you wondered if he was thinking it over. But he didn’t push for more information. He simply agreed, his voice calm and understanding.

“Sure. Where do you want to meet?”

You bit your lip, a brief moment of indecision hitting you. But then it came to you. "Where you at?"

He paused for a beat before replying, “About to start classes, but later I have archery practice.”

“Bet,” you said, your voice steadying. “I’m coming when you have practice.”

Before he could say anything else, you hung up. The decision felt sudden like you were just throwing yourself into the unknown, but there was a strange sense of relief mixed with it.

Damn, that really overwhelmed you.

You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. The tension that had built up over the past few days began to loosen slightly—though you weren’t fooling yourself. There was still so much left unsaid.

The afternoon passed in a blur of lectures and assignments. Your mind kept wandering to your phone, to the call you had just made to Geo. Every time you tried to focus, the weight of everything from the past few weeks came crashing down on you again, clouding your thoughts. You hated the feeling of being so torn, but there was little you could do to change it now.

After your last class, you quickly went to the campus snack shop. You grabbed a bag of chips and a couple of candy bars, trying to grab a bit of comfort before meeting up with Sol and Hyugo for lunch. The campus was busy with students, the energy of their conversations filling the air, but you felt strangely detached from it all.

You reached the stairs leading to the roof, where you were supposed to meet them. The familiar sight of the door at the top of the stairs felt almost comforting, like a safe haven. But when you pushed the door open and stepped onto the roof, you only saw Sol.

You paused, momentarily confused.

The quiet hum of the city outside the campus walls mixed with the soft sound of wind brushing against the roof, creating a peaceful atmosphere that contrasted sharply with the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind.

But Sol?

He was there, leaning against the railing, his eyes fixed on the horizon. His usual sharp, confident demeanor softened in the warm sunlight, and there was a rare stillness about him, something you didn’t often get to see.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you quickly shook it off, determined not to let yourself be distracted. You needed to focus, to stay grounded, even though everything felt like it was slipping away.

“Hey,” you called out, your voice cutting through the quiet air.

Sol turned to face you, his eyes scanning you for a moment, his gaze lingering longer than usual. You noticed the faint shadows beneath his eyes, signs of something deeper—a weariness that didn't quite match his usual carefree attitude. He straightened up slowly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice carrying that familiar teasing edge, but something about it felt off.

You rolled your eyes, pulling out the snacks you’d bought and handing him a bag of chips before grabbing one for yourself. “I bought lunch. Where’s Hyugo?” you asked, looking around, expecting to see him somewhere nearby.

Sol’s smirk faltered, and he shifted his weight slightly, eyes briefly flicking away as if he were debating whether to say something. “He’s upset at me,” Sol said, his tone flat, almost defensive.

You blinked, caught off guard by the admission. “What? Why?”

Sol didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he leaned back against the railing, his eyes studying you for a moment as if he was weighing how much he wanted to reveal. “Doesn’t matter,” he muttered, but there was an edge to his voice now, something that made it clear there was more to the story.

You stared at him, wondering if you should press further, but before you could, Sol asked, “Are you meeting up with Geo today?”

The question caught you off guard, and you hesitated.

The look in his eyes was tried, searching. It was as if he already knew the answer, but he was waiting for you to say it. You felt a wave of unease wash over you. Should you lie? Should you be truthful? You knew that whatever you said, Sol would know eventually through, and yet, you didn’t want to push him further.

You swallowed, unsure how to respond. Finally, you gave a small, uncertain nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah...” you said, almost as though you were answering a question you hadn't been ready to face.

The silence hung heavy between you and Sol, the wind carrying a cool edge that seemed to make everything feel even colder. He hadn’t moved, hadn’t even flinched as you shifted uneasily beside him, and when he spoke again, his voice was more urgent than before, more desperate.

“Don’t meet with him,” Sol said, his tone low but intense, like a warning. He was staring straight ahead, hands gripping the railing a little too tightly.

You look at him, lost as hell, "What—" He cuts you off.

“He is from that rich society that happened to be kicked out of, and you know what that means."

You shrugged your shoulders and shook your head.

You didn't say anything. Ngl let's just hope he doesn't crash out.

"Long story short, you don’t belong in that world. It’s all fake, all about status and image. Why do you want to be with someone like that? Someone who looks at everything like it’s just a game for him?” His voice was laced with bitterness, the words tumbling out in a stream of disapproval, each one landing with a weight that made you feel suffocated.

You could feel his words digging into you, his frustration and anger clear, as though he had been holding this in for too long. The more he spoke, the more you could hear the layers of jealousy and resentment hidden beneath the surface.

“Why are you even considering him?” Sol went on, his eyes now locked on you, sharp and accusing. “You think he’s different, but trust me, he’s not. He’s nothing but a walking reflection of everything that’s wrong with that world. You’re just another thing to him, a new toy to play with before he gets bored. And you—”

Sol paused, his voice dipping, almost as if he was struggling to keep control of his emotions, “You’re smarter than that. You deserve better than to be some rich boy’s little distraction.”

Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, the frustration boiling inside you. You had been hearing this for days, and it was starting to feel like a broken record. His words kept echoing in your head, over and over, but with each passing second, it became harder to listen.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Are you good?” You finally blurted out, your voice sharp with irritation, cutting through his tirade. “Are you seriously obsessed with me or something?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them, the question hanging in the air between you two like a live wire.

Sol’s expression faltered for just a moment, his eyes flashing with something unreadable, something that was maybe a little too close to the truth. But then, without warning, his face hardened again, the smirk returning to his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Sol muttered, more to himself than to you, turning his attention back to the skyline. His posture became stiff again, his shoulders drawn tight like he was bracing for something.

“You’re better off without him. Trust me on this.”

You felt your chest tighten as his words hung in the air, the tension between you thickening. A part of you was almost shocked that he’d go this far, but at the same time, you could sense that this wasn’t the first time he’d crossed a line like this.

His possessiveness, his obsession, it was always there, lurking just beneath the surface.

You could feel it now, the weight of it pressing down on you.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the anger and frustration bubbled to the surface. "You're worthless," you spat out, the words sharp, like a knife cutting through the silence. "I don’t know what the hell you think this is, but I’m not yours. I’ll never be yours." Your voice trembled slightly, not from fear but from the sheer overwhelming weight of your emotions.

For a moment, Sol didn’t react.

He just stood there, his back turned to you, staring off into the distance, the wind tousling his hair. But you could feel the shift in the air, the subtle way the space between you seemed to shrink like he was about to snap.

And then he turned to face you, his eyes darker than before, something almost predatory in his gaze. He stepped forward, closing the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently, but firmly, take hold of your wrist. “Don’t say that,” he whispered, his voice low and almost dangerous, the words leaving a chill in the air.

“You’re supposed to be mine, Pumpkin.”

He looks at you deeply, "You just don’t know it yet.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. For a split second, you almost felt like you were suffocating, caught in the intensity of his gaze and the suffocating grip he had on your wrist.

A part of you wanted to pull away, to fight, but another part of you—perhaps the one that was tired, exhausted from all the confusion and the constant pull between him and Geo—like shit this was tiring.

But Sol wasn’t going to let you go that easily.

“I can't see him.” His voice was soft, but the underlying threat was unmistakable. “You belong with me. You know that, don’t you? You feel it, too. You can’t deny it, not with how you look at me.”

The words burned through you, and despite everything, you felt a sick sense of dread settle in your stomach. “Stop,” you said, your voice trembling, trying to pull away from him. “You’re insane. You don’t own me. I’m not your fucking possession.”

Sol didn’t let go. His grip tightened just enough to make you wince, “You think I’m crazy?” he asked, his lips curling into a twisted smirk. “You have no idea, do you? I’d burn the world down just to keep you. And you want to play these games with him?” He stepped back for a moment as if letting the words sink in.

“I thought I was so lucky you gave me a chance.”

There was a moment of silence, the weight of his words hanging between you, before he suddenly broke the fourth wall, his voice shifting slightly as if addressing something outside the moment, outside of reality itself.

“You think you can just walk away from this?” Sol’s voice was sharper now, more knowing, as if speaking directly to the reader, to the reality that existed beyond the world you were in. “Do you think you can make decisions like this without consequences? Without me getting involved?” His eyes gleamed with something unsettling.

“You can’t run from me, not anymore.”

You felt your heart pounding in your chest as if it might burst from the pressure building inside. The world around you seemed to warp and distort, the edges of reality blurring.

You were lost—completely and utterly lost.

You’d thought you understood what was happening, but now, with Sol so close, his words was filled with something sinful and desperate, it was all unraveling in a way you couldn’t make sense of.

The way he looked at you, the way he gripped your wrist like it was his lifeline, it was suffocating. His gaze held something twisted, an obsession that felt too intense, too real.

Why have you been dumb until now? This wasn’t just a simple crush or playful teasing. This wasn’t just a guy who wanted to be close.

No. Sol was obsessed.

And it scared you.

You tried to pull your wrist free, but his grip was tight. The words on your lips were desperate, but they felt so small against the weight of his presence. “This isn’t right,” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

Sol didn’t respond immediately. He only stared at you, his eyes darkening, as if weighing your every word, your every movement. “You don’t get it, do you?” His voice was low, but there was an edge to it. “I need you. I’ll always make you see. I'll be good, you can do whatever you want to me, use me, hurt me, please”

The words Sol had thrown at you hung in the air, thick and suffocating, making it hard to breathe.

"Pumpkin, please don't pick him." not like I can anyway in the game.

You felt paralyzed, trapped by the weight of his obsession and the raw, unhinged look in his eyes.

Was this really happening? Was this the mess you’d walked into, too blind to see the signs before?

Your thoughts spiraled, emotions crashing together like a storm you couldn’t outrun. But before you could sort anything out, the air shifted. The tension in the room grew thicker, a new presence making itself known.

Geo.

He appeared in the exit stair doorway, his posture rigid, like he was ready to explode at any second. But it was his eyes that caught your attention, locking onto Sol with a cold, seething intensity that matched the storm brewing between them.

“You’re really fucking crazy, huh?” Geo’s voice was sharp, his words cutting through the charged silence. His gaze never left Sol, as if daring him to say something back.

You tried to back away, finally pulling your wrist free from Sol’s grasp, but your legs were weak, your body trembling with the adrenaline coursing through you. You couldn’t think straight. You needed space; you needed air. But there was no time to escape.

Because Sol’s gaze never wavered, and Geo’s words had already ignited something in him.

“Stay the fuck out of this,” Sol growled, his voice low and dangerous. There was a flash of rage crossing his features, and you knew in that instant that things were about to escalate.

“You don’t get to come in here and play the knight.”

Geo didn’t flinch. If anything, he seemed even more determined. “You’ve already crossed every line. Just back off, she doesn't want you, peasant,” His voice was calm, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed the storm raging underneath.

“I won’t let you fuck with them any longer.”

And just like that, it was like the dam had broken. Crash out time!!

Sol lunged first, moving quickly, too quickly for you to process. He slammed into Geo with all his weight, pushing him against the nearby wall, and you couldn’t help but flinch at the sound of their bodies colliding.

Geo’s arm shot out, blocking the punch that Sol aimed for his face, and for a moment, they were locked in a brutal, silent struggle.

“Get the fuck off me,” Geo spat, trying to shove Sol away, but Sol was relentless, throwing punches with a viciousness that you didn’t know he had in him—no, no that's a lie, you been know just didn't question it AKA minding your business.

The rooftop felt like it was closing in around you—like no matter how open it can be, the sounds of their fight echoing in your ears as you stumbled backward, not sure whether to intervene or to run.

But you couldn’t move. You were stuck.

Sol was stronger than Geo in this moment, using the element of surprise and his sheer intensity to overpower him. Geo grunted as Sol’s fist connected with his ribs, however Geo wasn’t backing down either. He fought back with the same brutal force, each strike punctuated by curses and gritted teeth.

“You think you can just take them from me?” Sol snarled, his words slurring with anger. “I told you, they’re mine. I don’t care what you think, you don’t deserve them.”

“You don’t own them, Emo!” Geo shouted, his voice breaking with frustration. “Stop acting like you have some fucking right to control them. They’re their own person. You’re the one who needs to back the hell off.”

Geo’s fists collided with Sol with a brutal force that made your stomach churn. You watched in stunned silence as Geo moved with precision and anger, his strikes landing one after another.

Sol, once so confident, was now crumpled on the floor, his face swollen and bruising almost immediately. A deep purple and blue marred his features, his lip split and his cheek reddened from the force of the blows.

He tried to get up, and retaliate, however Geo’s rage was unstoppable. Sol was no match for him now, not when the fury in Geo’s eyes burned like a wildfire.

Geo didn’t even give him a moment to breathe. T-T

With each punch, the sound of their struggle echoed throughout the room. And when it was finally over, when Sol lay crumpled on the ground, barely able to move, Geo stood over him, chest heaving with the exertion of the fight. His fists were bloodied, but his gaze never wavered from Sol, whose body remained limp on the floor, groaning in pain.

Geo didn’t seem to care.

After a long, tense pause, Geo finally backed away, his hands shaking but his expression cold and controlled. He didn’t say a word, just took one last look at Sol—who was too beaten to even raise his head—and turned toward the door. He walked out with a calmness that betrayed the chaos that had just unfolded.

The fight had been fast, efficient, and brutal, and now it was over.

You stood there, frozen, trying to process the madness of the situation. The intensity of everything—Geo’s rage, Sol’s obsession, the violence—made your head spin. None of this was supposed to happen. This wasn’t the outcome you imagined when you first started this twisted game.

You just wanted to see how far it would go, how much each of them would fight for your attention, for your love—not actually fighting for real, for whatever the hell it was they were after. Oh yeah, you...

But like you had no idea it would spiral into this.

Now, you were sitting in a private room at the police station, the air thick with tension. The officers sat across from you and Geo, their eyes focused on the both of you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to speak. Your mouth felt dry, your thoughts a jumbled mess.

You didn’t know how to explain what had happened, how it all went wrong. It was too much.

Too fast.

You didn’t have the words.

The room was silent except for the low hum of fluorescent lights above, the officers waiting for some kind of answer, some kind of explanation. But you couldn’t give them that. You couldn’t even explain it to yourself. Your mind was racing, trying to make sense of everything.

The fact that it all started with some stupid game—a game to see which of the two would get jealous first—felt utterly ridiculous now. It was supposed to be harmless. You didn’t think it would turn into something this twisted.

But here you were, sitting next to Geo, whose face was unreadable. His expression was as cold and detached as ever, but you could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, too. His knuckles were bruised, his chest rising and fell with each deep breath. He didn’t regret what he’d done, and part of you couldn’t blame him.

Sol had crossed too many lines.

But it didn’t make it any easier to process.

You shifted in your seat, avoiding the officers' eyes, your mind spiraling out of control. You wanted to say something, wanted to explain it all, but the words wouldn’t come.

Everything felt so... out of place.

The fight between Geo and Sol had been violent and unnecessary, yet somehow, it felt inevitable.

This was what it had come to. You had pushed it, tested the boundaries, and now the damage was done.

The officers exchanged glances, their patience wearing thin just by looking at you. They know you were holding some information back, but you didn’t have the proper answers they were looking for.

How could you? Like its very much embarrassing to say, 'Hey I was two-timing these dudes and this led to them fighting,' that isn't the full truth but that's how they would sum it up in the file report.

Like you didn't expect things to get so out of hand. You didn't expect Geo to beat Sol into the fucking ground or why Sol had become so obsessed with you in the first place.

You were so over everything at this point.

“Please,” one of the officers finally spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Can you tell us what happened here? What led up to this?”

You hated how weak you felt, how lost. You couldn’t explain it.

You couldn’t even explain to yourself how you had allowed this to happen. The moment you’d let your curiosity get the better of you—this was the result.

You just shook your head, the overwhelming sense of regret and guilt crushing you. You didn’t have the answers.

No—you didn't want to answer.

And even if you could, they wouldn’t make this any easier to process.

Geo’s eyes remained fixed on you, his usual cold demeanor softened by something you couldn't quite place. It wasn’t pity—at least, not the kind of pity that made you feel small—but it was something else. He wasn’t angry. He wasn’t frustrated.

He was just... there.

When the officers started to ask more questions, Geo spoke up, his voice surprisingly calm as he interjected.

"Look he put his hands on them. And I just stepped in to stop him." His tone didn’t leave room for debate, his usual sharpness replaced by something quieter, more protective. "I don't have a clue why he's so... obsessed with them, but what's done is done. You have him arrested for assault, sexual harrsment and etc. What more do you?"

The officers froze at Geo's words, he didn't say much at the start—perhaps he could tell you were sitting at a police station for like three hours now and all you wanted was to leave.

"You have all the evidence. That enough. We'll leave now."

The officers exchanged a look, but they didn’t argue. They nodded, acknowledging Geo’s request, and you could hear the soft scrape of the chair as one of them stood up. As you left the station, the weight of everything that had happened crashed down on you like a flood.

It was all too much.

You didn’t speak on the way back to your dorm. The car ride was silent except for the faint hum of the engine, and every minute felt like it stretched on forever. You didn’t know what to say to Geo, didn’t know what to say to yourself.

You were lost—dazed, even. What had you done?

Everything had spiraled so far out of control that you couldn’t even find the starting point anymore.

When the car finally pulled up to your building, you didn’t even wait for Geo to open the door. You got out quickly, the silence between you both louder than anything. You didn’t even feel like you had the energy to say goodbye. You just wanted to retreat, to disappear.

You made your way up to your single studio apartment, the familiar surroundings almost too much. The kitchen passed in a blur as you shuffled into your small, cramped living space. You threw your bag on the floor with a dull thud before collapsing face-first onto your bed. You didn’t even bother pulling the covers over you.

You just lay there, unmoving.

Geo stood in the doorway—guessing that he followed you. Wait, you checked him in at the desk, right? Anyway, watching you. The door clicked shut behind him, but he didn’t approach.

He knew better than that. There was something almost resigned in the way he stood, his hands in his pockets as he regarded you.

"I ordered food for you," he said, his voice quiet, almost a whisper, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile silence that had settled between you. "...I'll stay. If you’re scared, like if that's what you need."

You didn’t respond.

The weight of everything felt like it was suffocating you, and you didn’t have the words to explain it—not to him, not to anyone.

You felt stuck like the ground beneath you had turned to quicksand. The guilt gnawed at you, but the numbness in your chest was worse. You wanted to feel something—anything—but all you could muster was a hollow emptiness that made your heartache.

You heard Geo’s quiet footsteps echo in the room as he carefully took off his shoes and placed them by the door. It was such a small thing, however the gesture felt oddly intimate like he was respecting some unspoken boundary.

He stood there for a moment, looking at you, before he made his way over to the edge of your bed. You watched him, feeling a strange mix of relief and discomfort, as he knelt in front of you, his back straight and his posture solid.

You clutched the pillow tighter, a weak shield against the confusion that was swirling inside your head. You didn’t know what you needed right now. You didn’t know if you wanted him to say something, or if you just needed the silence. You wanted so badly to scream at the chaos in your life, but the exhaustion had drained all the energy from your body.

Geo glanced down at your bed, then back at you, a slight frown pulling at his features. “I don’t want to sit on your bed,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I’ve been outside. You shouldn’t be either, you're covered in germs,”

Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation hit you.

The idea of Geo being so considerate after everything that had happened between you two made something inside you crack. You let out a small laugh, a soft chuckle that bubbled up from nowhere as the tension in your chest finally found a way to escape.

Geo froze, his brow furrowing in surprise as he processed the sound. “What...?” His voice trailed off, confused. He hadn’t expected it, clearly.

You shook your head, trying to stifle another laugh. “It’s just... you’re so serious sometimes,” you muttered, shaking your head again, trying to collect yourself. “Like, we’re in the middle of all this... shit, and you’re worried about sitting on my bed? It’s just funny.”

“Are you okay?” he asked, the question heavy with something more than just casual curiosity. He wasn’t asking to pry—he was asking. After all, he cared—in his own way, because he wanted to know if you were all right, even though everything around you was in pieces.

You hesitated, your chest tightening as you tried to push past the numbness, to find the words that would make sense of the chaos inside you. It wasn’t easy. You felt like you were wading through a thick fog, unable to see the shore, unable to find your way out.

You didn’t know what to say.

You didn’t even know what you wanted anymore.

“I don’t know anymore,” you whispered with a dry laugh, your voice barely audible as the weight of everything hit you all at once.

Geo sighed, and he stayed where he was, kneeling in front of you. He just watched you, waiting for you to find the words, letting you process everything at your own pace. The silence stretched on, thick and heavy, but somehow it was comforting.

You exhaled sharply, leaning back against the bed, clutching the pillow in your arms like it could somehow anchor you to the present.

“I don’t know when it all got so messy," you began, your voice unsteady, the words tumbling out in a rush like you were trying to explain something to yourself as much as to him. “It all started because… I wanted to see who was more jealous, you or Sol. It was stupid, I know. I thought I could handle it, keep it all under control. I thought I could play this game and walk away without getting caught up in it.”

You paused for a second, feeling your pulse quicken as you tried to make sense of everything, but the more you spoke, the harder it became to breathe. The confession felt like it was suffocating you, but you couldn’t stop.

“You know how it is. Just a stupid game. I thought I could just sit back, watch the both of you get all worked up, and have a laugh. But it... It didn’t go the way I expected. I didn’t expect to care. Not about him—not about Sol, I mean. And sure as hell not about you.”

You laughed bitterly, shaking your head as you glanced at Geo, unsure of what exactly you were trying to say. But the confusion, the mess in your head, only seemed to spill out more the longer you spoke.

"I was trying to keep control. You know, like always. But the more I played this game—god, the more it twisted everything around. I started getting feelings. First, it was just... Sol, and I thought I could push it aside. But then... it was you."

You stopped, your voice faltering. “I didn’t think I could get feelings for you, not after everything. You’ve got your own shit going on, and so do I, but here I am. And I’m not sure who’s worse. Me, for getting this deep, or you for dealing with me through all of it.”

Geo didn’t interrupt, though you could see the way his jaw tightened, the way his fingers curled into a fist for just a moment before he relaxed them. His eyes were on you, unwavering, and it only made the confession feel like it was digging a hole deeper inside your chest.

"You can judge me for it. I don’t blame you if you do. You always do," The words came out bitter, almost accusing, like you were daring him to reject you, to call you out for being weak.

"I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, Geo. I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to feel. This whole thing was supposed to be a game, a stupid little test to see who cared more, but here I am—lost. And I don’t know how to fix it."

Your throat felt tight as you swallowed down the question clawing its way up. But eventually, the words spilled out before you could stop them.

“Do you… do you hate me?”

For a moment, there was only silence. Thick. Heavy. Unforgiving.

You didn’t look at him—couldn’t. You were too afraid of what you’d see in his face. Fear? Disgust? Or something worse?

Geo didn’t answer right away. Instead, his gaze flickered away, shifting toward the floor, his jaw tightening just enough for you to notice. He wasn’t one to hesitate, wasn’t one to falter, and yet, here he was—pausing.

The silence stretched, each second pulling at your nerves like frayed threads.

Then, finally, he exhaled, slow and measured, before looking back at you. His expression wasn’t cold, but there was something guarded about it, something that made your chest ache.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, voice quieter than before. “If you’re asking whether I’m pissed? Yeah. That game you played was soo shitty and wrong. But If you’re asking if I regret meeting and talking to you...”

He sighed, looking away, "No. I don't."

Your breath caught by your lip, eyes widened as you lifted your body to look at him.

“Like hating you?” He shook his head, the faintest hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I couldn’t even if I tried. And trust me, I've tried.”

He shifted near you again, the weight of his presence steady, grounding. And despite everything—the chaos, the mistakes, the games you played—you found yourself leaning just a little closer.

Your lips parted, the question forming before you could stop it. “Then...”

He hummed, his gaze steady on you.

“Do you… like me?” The words left your mouth before you could second-guess them, before you could convince yourself to let it go. You already felt exposed enough, but if you were drowning, you weren’t going to do it alone.

Geo didn’t flinch, but you saw the way his jaw tensed ever so slightly. That careful mask of his wavered just for a fraction of a second. Then, like clockwork, his face turned slightly red—shocking…

“I like a lot of things,” he said smoothly, stretching his arms above his head, his voice full of deflection. “My time. Plants, archery...”

You narrowed your eyes, not amused. “Geo.”

He sighed through his nose, gaze flicking away for a brief moment before locking back onto you. “And maybe you talk too much.”

You let out a sharp breath, shaking your head. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re getting.”

You stared at him, frustration bubbling beneath your skin. He was doing this on purpose, keeping things just vague enough to avoid saying anything real. You wanted to pry it out of him, force him to admit it, but at the same time…

Geo wasn’t the kind of person you could force anything out of.

He’d say what he wanted when he wanted.

That was just who he was at this damn point.

You let out a sigh, something between acceptance and resignation. “Fine. Be stubborn.” You turned your body slightly, facing him fully. “But I don’t need to hear it. I already know.”

Then, before he could react, you jumped forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, and pulling him close in a tight embrace. Geo stiffened for a moment, caught off guard, but he didn’t push you away. Instead, you felt his arms slowly wrap around your waist, holding you steady, his warmth grounding you in ways you hadn’t expected.

Then, before you could stop yourself, you kissed him.

It was quick at first, just a light brush of your lips against his, testing the waters. But the second you felt him respond, his lips pressing against yours just as gently, something inside you caved.

The kiss deepened, slow and careful, neither of you rushing, just feeling. His hands stayed light on your waist, not pulling, not taking—just holding. Like he was afraid of breaking the moment, of breaking you.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Geo’s breath hitched slightly before he tilted his head, his lips moving against yours with more certainty now, but never rough, never greedy.

It was nothing like the game you had been playing before—nothing like what had happened with Sol. This wasn’t about control, about jealousy, about winning.

It was just real.

You pulled away first, your forehead resting against his, your breathing slightly uneven. Geo’s hands were still resting on your waist, his thumbs absently brushing against the fabric of your shirt.

For a moment, you just stared at each other, the room feeling quieter than it had before.

Then, suddenly, Geo pulled back, reaching into his pocket and checking his phone. He sighed dramatically. “Well, that was good timing.”

You blinked, still dazed. “What?”

He held up his phone, showing you the screen. “Food’s here.”

You let out a surprised laugh, shaking your head. “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” He stood up, stretching before glancing down at you. “Unless you wanna keep making out and let the delivery guy starve outside.”

You rolled your eyes, a small smile pulling at your lips despite everything. “Go get the damn food, Geo.”

He gave you one last look—something soft, unreadable—before turning toward the door. And even as he left, you could still feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the warmth of his touch lingering on your skin.

For once, you weren’t overthinking; he's yours.

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