#and now there are random words placed on random answers

[azzibueckers5]

take another drag (turn me to ashes)

synopsis: messy fwb pazzi, extremely unserious angst, alcohol usage, sexual content, situationship final bosses paige and azzi but they're like really really chill about it, um. the only hint that i'm giving in terms of the smut is possessiveness. enjoy!

wc: 6.5k (part 1/2)

a/n: title is from lana's diet mountain dew. you gay bitches won you get the first half tonight. enjoy the repercussions (sexual frustration). this was a tad rushed so i could get it out before the weekend so there's bound to be typos i am. Sorry. also roommate pairings are entirely made up #sorry

azzi tilts her head back against the couch cushions behind her and closes her eyes for a second, trying to assess what level of drunk she’s riding in their game of truth or drink in preparation for her next turn. 

her teammates are scattered precariously around the room, all twelve of them making themselves at home in evina, aubrey, and piath’s small living room, and the half full handle of titos sits in the middle of the lopsided circle like some sacrificial token, daring azzi to test it. 

she’s been spared from any truly invasive questions so far, only having to answer one about her first kiss (a random boy named carlos in the seventh grade after a movie date that had been nothing short of terrible) and what the most scandalous place she’d ever hooked up with someone was (she’d hesitated before answering this one, not because a hotel pool had been that embarrassing, but because her counterpart in that particular rendezvous was sitting directly next to her, fingers fidgeting in her lap and eyes refusing to make contact), so she hasn’t had to drink to avoid anything. 

this was a team bonding event though– and the last one before the season officially started– so naturally azzi had been coerced into doing two separate rounds of shots by nika, in addition to sipping on a drink with god knows how many more, and the buzz in her limbs was starting to make tipsy feel like a thing of the past. 

it was at least mildly reassuring that everyone around her also seemed to have reached that tipping point as well, and she could feel the atmosphere descending into that loose, rowdy environment that only happened on the rare nights when they didn’t have an early practice the next day.

amari is getting grilled about, like, her ex boyfriend’s dick size or something– azzi’s trying hard not to pay attention– which means azzi’s turn is next. she lifts her head up from the couch and ignores the slight dizziness that accompanies it, focusing instead on the feeling of paige’s hand repeatedly poking her thigh. 

she tilts her head towards the blonde lazily and sighs, exaggerating her exasperation, and catches paige's finger in her own, stilling her. 

“what.”

paige grins, crooked but blinding all the same, and azzi knows immediately that she is also hurtling towards drunk by the slightly dazed look on her face. she tries to smother the excitement that bubbles up at the idea of what usually happens when they get drunk together, and only halfway succeeds. 

“nothin,’” paige says, unashamedly fishing for attention. 

azzi rolls her eyes, and ignores the flutter in her chest when paige laces their fingers together instead of letting go. 

“you’re an attention whore,” she declares, trying to scrunch her face into something that resembles annoyance. 

“don’t act like you don’t love it,” paige drawls, and, yup. definitely a little drunk, because she’s slurring the end of her words a little, in a way that shouldn’t be endearing but always is anyways, and is flirting a little more brazenly than she otherwise would, especially in front of the team. 

azzi is spared from having to respond when dorka kicks her right leg that’s splayed out on the ground in front of her and informs her that it’s her turn. 

“you ready to drink, princess?”

she blinks away from paige’s face and scoffs, trying to catch up to the rest of the room. the last thing they need right now is for someone to accuse them of flirting again. 

she pulls her fingers out of paige’s with a squeeze and says, defiantly, “m’not drinking. hit me with your best, dorka.” 

the older girl smirks from across the circle, and anxiety pools in her stomach. she prays this question isn’t about her sex life. 

“last person you got with. out with it.” 

what a surprise. a sex question.

azzi internally sighs and tries to keep the panic off her face, tries to ignore the flash of memory at the question:

paige, kissing her in the dingy bathroom of ted’s, hands on the back of her thighs under her skirt; paige, dragging them stumbling back to azzi’s dorm, fingers tangled; paige, pressing azzi into her bedroom door, mouth moving down her neck; paige, fingers between her– she shoves the memory away, willing her face to stay unimpressed. 

her rescue comes in the form of paige herself, which is, admittedly, a little incriminating, but she’s grateful nonetheless. “ya’ll must be extra horny today. how bout you go get laid instead of interrogating all of us about our sex lives.”

azzi nudges their ankles together in thanks, just as christyn groans somewhere to her left and says “don’t be a loser paige. we tryna make it actually fun,” and piath throws a piece of popcorn at paige and says “of course paige is defending azzi.”

damn it. 

there’s a chorus of agreement from the girls around them, and azzi sighs, glaring at the glass handle in front of her and mentally prepping for the shot that’s going to curdle in her stomach. 

but then, evina, who’s already properly sloshed, calls out impatiently, “yeah, come on az, last guy you got with. not that hard,” and azzi smiles. 

blessed reprieve in the form of heteronormativity.  

before anyone can object to the question, she blurts out “last guy i got with was james,” and hopes everyone is too drunk to inquire further. 

got with is kind of an exaggeration– they’d kissed at the afterparty at prom and azzi had let it happen for approximately thirty seconds before his hands had started wandering and she’d broken away to run off and find her friends– but it's not her fault if people assume it was more than that. 

she knows paige is gonna be sulky about the mere mention of him anyways, but that’s her problem. they’ve agreed to stop the whole messy hook up thing, what with basketball really gearing up and the fear of making things complicated, and that includes getting jealous when other people are brought up. never mind the fact that they’ve been absolutely terrible at adhering to that new rule.  

christyn narrows her eyes suspiciously and asks “what do you mean by guy,” just as aaliyah says, rather shocked, “your prom date? as in not since may?” 

azzi takes a sip of her drink and smirks. she should probably be a little bit more careful at what she’s insinuating, but she’s giddy at getting away without having to take a shot for a third time and also definitely a little drunk.

“i haven’t hooked up with a guy since may. that’s what you asked. paige’s turn.”

but they aren't letting her off the hook so easy, and olivia’s voice rings out over the rest of them, loud and laced with disbelief. “you brought someone home last month after the bar. nika and i had to sleep with pillows over our heads.”

nika is one of the two other people in this room that knows that that had been paige. azzi expects her to help them out a little bit here. 

“yeah, azzi, what was that about?” she says instead, smarmy and annoying and so totally enjoying this. 

so much for assistance. 

dorka piles on with “liars have to take two shots to make up for it,” and azzi shoots a death glare at nika and sighs. 

“m’not lying. evina said who’s the last guy. i answered the question.” 

the room erupts again into shrieks of surprise and someone says “the princess is into women?”

azzi just takes a large gulp of her drink, pushes down the feeling of indignation at the thought that it's this shocking she’d be into women, and tries really hard not to look at paige. 

she fails. 

paige, for her part, is putting up a solidly mediocre performance on how to be nonchalant: lazy smirk, legs spread casually, and eyes refusing to look at azzi for too long. azzi knows her inside and out though, and can see the clench of her jaw and the shift of her fingers on the perimeter of her solo cup, the way her gaze is flitting around the room, cataloguing the different reactions to azzi’s sentence.

she pulls her eyes off paige’s silhouette before she gives them away and fixes her stare instead on aaliyah. “dunno why you assumed i’m straight, that’s your problem. somebody ask paige a question already. i answered mine.”

christyn makes a couple more attempts at getting azzi to spill on who this mystery woman is, but she refuses, and eventually the group moves on to start plotting on how to get paige to drink. 

tomorrow, azzi will worry about the consequences of inadvertently revealing that she’s into girls– both because it makes her rather intense friendship with paige that much more suspicious, and because coming out to some of her closest friends via a shitty question in truth or drink is a admittedly a little pathetic. she’s never exactly tried to hide her sexuality though, it just turned out that when you’d only ever kissed one girl and were also trying to keep the fact that you were kissing said girl a secret, things tended to stay under wraps. 

azzi breathes out a sigh of relief at her turn being over and shifts her thoughts to trying her best to prepare for paige’s interrogation, knowing that it’s fairly likely the question will pertain to her in some capacity, seeing as the team is hellbent on asking about sex escapades. 

honestly. you’d think they were at a sleepover with sixteen year olds.  

she hopes everyone around them is drunk enough to miss the tension in her shoulders, and the glances she keeps taking at paige’s face. she pointedly ignores caroline’s knowing gaze from the other across the circle, the only other one in the room besides nika who’s aware of the tangle of something more between them, and again, takes a rather large chug of her drink. 

the relief of being out of the hot seat does not last long. because somehow the question that’s almost unanimously decided upon for paige is, in azzi’s opinion, seventeen times worse.

“p, how many bodies you got by now?” calls aubrey from where she’s stretched out against the tv stand, glee evident in her voice, and azzi’s heart sinks into her stomach. 

she’s confident the answer is somewhere between three and five, but despite the fact that her and paige have never kept things from each other, azzi has made a point to actively avoid hearing about paige sleeping with other people. it was sort of an unspoken rule– they didn’t talk about the girls paige got with before azzi came to uconn, and they didn’t talk about the boys azzi had gotten with her senior year of high school. 

they had a lot of unspoken rules. 

they’d been each other's firsts (azzi stops herself from thinking too hard about the fact that she wants to be paige’s last, too), fumbling around in the dark of a hotel room (azzi reminds her self that that had meant more than any rushed hookup paige had sought out since), and though they’d maintained the conviction that the other was allowed to do whatever they wanted with whomever they wanted, they’d never been exactly good at sharing. 

as the group around her debates what, specifically, has to meet the requirements for a body when it comes to having sex with girls, azzi racks her brain and tries to remember the last time paige had hooked up with someone other than her. 

it had only been three weeks since she’d made one of her more terrible decisions to let the fear that paige had starting meaning more to her than basketball dictate the parameters of their relationship, and she’d initiated the rule that during basketball season (and the few weeks leading up to it), the two of them should halt the rather non-platonic aspects of their friendship for fear of making things too complicated. 

she’d been half expecting paige to push back, would have most likely caved with merely a few sentences and a makeout as a counter argument, but paige hadn’t argued whatsoever, and they’d since been mostly successful at pretending everything was fine. 

they’d only slipped up once since the implementation of the new rule– a rather heated makeout session in the locker room of all places when they’d been left alone post practice, sweaty and sports bra clad (they’d never stood a chance)– and they had somehow miraculously managed to spend just as much time together as they’d had before, so azzi doesn’t think paige has had time to add to her body count. 

(god help both of them if she had, because azzi’s crashout would probably cause world war three)

that left only the ones she’d accumulated over the course of her freshman year, because paige and azzi had been effectively inseparable (and effectively exclusive) since their arrival at summer session workouts in may. 

still, this doesn’t halt the twist in her stomach at the idea of paige with anyone else, and she fights the icky feeling in her stomach with a sip of her drink. 

but azzi can handle this, definitely, and she’s prepared for paige’s answer when she takes a lazy sip of her drink and drawls out “four.” 

what she’s not prepared for is the general disbelief that echoes around the circle, and the insufferable comments from various teammates about how “that can’t be true,” and “it’s gotta be more than that.”

azzi wants to hit someone. preferably all eleven other people in the room. 

and then, her irrational anger at the rest of the circle refocusses to just paige because she humors it, leaning back and smirking. “what can i say? i’m picky,” grinning at the comments about how much of a whore she was the pervious year. as if it’s funny. 

if azzi believed in things like auras and spiritual colors, hers would probably look like a christmas monstrosity right now– green for jealousy clashing with the crimson of her fury. 

she shifts over, removing her leg from where it had been subtly pressed up against paige’s, and tucks her glower into the rim of her cup, plotting several murders as the group around them howls with laughter and continues reminiscing on paige’s escapades like it was a hilarious, wonderful time, and not the root of many sleepless nights for azzi. 

she really has enough when evina giggles out something about how “paige needs to get back out there” and christyn agrees, slurring about how they miss “big daddy bueckers.” 

azzi coughs. hard. 

and then she finishes the rest of her drink in one swig, ignores paige’s searing gaze on the side of her face, and stands up rather aggressively to go fix herself another. if she subtly kicks paige’s foot on the way past, that’s nobody’s business but hers. she’s not doing a particularly terrific job of subtlety right now, but no one is sober enough to notice.

nika joins her in the kitchen, and bursts out laughing as soon as she sees the expression on azzi’s face, contorted into what is probably a rather hideous scowl. 

“someone’s jealous,” she taunts, as she watches azzi pour a healthy amount of vodka into her cup. 

“i’m not jealous,” azzi hisses. jealousy would imply azzi had a right to care about who paige gets with. which she does not. she adds another glug of tito’s for good measure.

nika eyes the amount of liquid in her cup and raises an eyebrow. “no?”

azzi glares. “nothing to be jealous over. paige can do whatever she wants.”

nika has the audacity to laugh at her. “ooookayy,” she drags out, hands raised beside her head like azzi is a feral animal. she sort of feels like it. “as someone who witnessed paige last year, it wasn’t nearly as crazy as they make it seem.”

azzi wishes this made her feel better, but in all honesty it’s information she already knows, which reminds her of how irrational she’s being, which in turn makes her more upset, at like, the world. 

she huffs. “that’s none of my business.” 

“uh huh. that’s why you were eye fucking eachother in the living room and are now pouring yourself a triple.”

nika muhl and her psychology degree can kick rocks. 

“we told you, we’re not doing that anymore,” azzi muttered, doing a terrifically bad job at keeping the contempt out of her voice. 

nika eyes her with exasperation. “and who’s fault is that.”

azzi’s frown somehow deepens at the accusation. “it’s no one’s fault. it’s just the right thing to do.”

nika blinks, disbelieving. “if you say so. when paige walks out of your room tomorrow morning with her hood up i’m going to say i told you so.” 

“not happening.” 

nika just raises her eyebrows. azzi decides she’d through with this conversation. 

drink made, she stalks back to the living room, nika following close behind with thinly veiled amusement. she’s officially been added to azzi’s shit list of the night, directly behind one paige bueckers. 

she plops back down next to the blonde, careful to keep the space between their bodies reasonable, and takes a sip of her drink, wincing at how strong she’d made it. 

paige looks inquisitively at her, and azzi tries to ignore it, but then her head tilts back against the base of the couch as she sideyes azzi, brows furrowed in an unspoken attempt at asking if she’s good, which exposes the long, pale, extremely biteable column of her throat, and azzi jerks her head away before she does something stupid like lick it in front of their entire team, and ignores her. 

she’s still mad at paige. not for having four bodies– that would be ridiculous. just for other, secret reasons. definitely. 

she listens intently as nika immediately gets interrogated about the football guy she’s down bad for instead– serves her right for accusing azzi of being jealous– and decides that if the next question she gets asked is about her sex life, she’s going to take the shot. paige doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of hearing an answer that’s probably about her. 

but then, when her turn rolls around and olivia’s nosy fucking question of “azzi who’s the best you’ve ever had and why” causes paige to smirk next to her, azzi decides that simply taking the shot would feed paige’s ego far too much. 

so, she lets a smirk of her own cross her face and slurs out a massive fucking lie: “this guy i got with last year- charlie- very talented with his tongue,” and lets the room erupt into madness. 

the look on paige’s face is delightful. 

paige is by far the best azzi’s ever had– by, like, a factor of ten– and charlie had only been a brief fling senior year to (unsuccessfully) distract azzi from paige. he’d been mediocre at best. by the look on the blonde’s, face she knows that too, so the offense and shock laced into the outrage of her expression is beautiful. her eyes bore into azzi’s, drunk and disbelieving and pissed, and azzi swallows at the intensity of her gaze.

serves her right. 

she’s forced to tear her eyes away when christyn calls out “i’m sorry, you got with a girl last month and you expect me to believe that the best you ever got was from a guy?”

azzi flushes, but she holds her gaz, shrugging, and then decides to pour metaphorical gasoline on the fire that is currently raging next to her. “wasn’t really impressed with her skills.”

paige honest to god chokes beside her, and the room erupts into hoots and hollers. 

azzi lets the drunk commotion roll off her back, and makes the mistake of turning back to paige, feeling heat pool in her belly at the intensity she finds. 

“i don’t believe you,” rasps the blonde into the admittedly small space between them, low enough that no one else can hear her over the chaos that’s taken over the room. 

azzi smiles sweetly. “too bad.”

paige scoffs, and opens her mouth to respond with something presumably filthy, but then it’s aubrey’s turn to throw popcorn at them, telling paige to “lock in” for her turn. 

paige’s anticipatory smile at aubrey is more of a pained grimace, and azzi lets satisfaction settle in her bones for now, knowing she’s gotten under her skin.

she knows better than to think this conversation is over. she’s rather excited about that fact. stupid stupid stupid alcohol. 

the older girls convene in front of them for a second whispering ideas, and then they all seemingly agree on one with a chorus of excited yeses and christyn spins back to the rest of the group and grins. 

azzi braces herself with a shaky inhale. 

“tell the class about your favorite sex position, paigey,” christyn singsongs, and azzi's mind goes blank for a second. 

she tries to stop herself from thinking about it, about what position paige might be thinking about, but fails miserably, and then a series of images are flashing through her brain:

perhaps how much paige loves to be between azzi’s thighs, used to beg the brunette to let paige go down on her, or even more so maybe how much she loves azzi between her legs, tongue tracing lines against her clit and fingers dancing inside, or maybe even that one time paige made azzi work herself back onto paige’s fingers, bent over the bed, and paige had come untouched just from watching her, or when they’d put the small bullet vibrator azzi had secretly bought between them, grinding on it and each other until they’d both fallen apart more than once, or when– jesus. 

she needs to chill the fuck out. 

azzi is not built for the sexually frustrated lifestyle. 

she takes a large, large chug of her drink, and tries to focus on the burn of vodka down her throat, and not her absolutely filthy thoughts, nor the flush that’s coursing through her veins and making her skin hot.

beside her, paige smirks– a daring, cocky thing that pulls at the inside of azzi’s stomach– and doesn’t even think about answering, instead pouring herself a hefty shot from the handle in front of them and ripping it back, clearly enjoying the group’s groans at her refusal to answer. 

azzi tries extremely hard to ignore the peek of her tongue as she licks the residual vodka off the rim of the shot glass, but her whole body feels hot anyways. she blames it on the mixture in her cup.

“bruh, you just wanted to take a shot,” accuses evina, off to the left, as everyone watches paige wince and grab for a chaser. 

when she collects herself, she rasps out “yeah, or maybe i just think some things should stay private.” 

she says it to the broader room, refusing to look at azzi, but she knows the words are meant just for her anyways, and as anger rolls off of the set of paige's shoulders and curls in the now much wider space between their bodies, azzi juts her chin out in defiance.

whatever– let paige be mad. that is not azzi’s problem. 

she sees amari eyeing them warily, and caroline and nika have switched seats, no doubt so they can giggle to themselves about the tension they apparently think is hilarious, and azzi decides she needs a break. 

when the group conversation derails a bit, partly due to the collective level of hammered and partly due to the boredom of the game they’ve been playing for an hour now, azzi decides a pee break is in order, both because she actually has to pee, and because the heated glares paige is sending her from beside her are fucking with her head. 

she stands up off the floor– very wobbly mind you, the head rush at her upright position reminding her of the abundance of liquor in her cup– and stumbles down the hallway to the bathroom, trying to ignore how positively sloshed she feels. 

the silence of the bathroom is a welcome reprieve from the chaos on the other side of the door, and azzi takes a deep breath as soon as she closes it, leaning back against it and cursing herself for letting paige get under her skin. 

she knows she’s being unreasonable– that getting mad about the fact that paige has hooked up with people other than her is entirely ridiculous, one because it's information she already knows, and more importantly, two, because they're allowed to see other people– but she just looked so smug bringing it up. and the team thought it was so funny. and azzi wants to hit someone.  

lying as payback had been fun– the look on paige’s face absolutely worth it– but now azzi feels like she’s going to crawl out of her own skin at the tension between them and the inability to do something about it. 

she paces the small space for a second (noting in that slightly hysteric, satirical way that only come from drunkenness that evina’s bath mat is a hideous shade of orange), reeling with entirely unwarranted jealousy and fury and trying to pretend that the copious amounts of alcohol have not hit her bloodstream. 

she stops short when she catches her own eye in the mirror. she’s flushed, the range of feelings that aren’t hers to have painted across her face, and she looks exactly like a movie character in a melodramatic shitty pg-13 romcom who’s realizing she’s too drunk and too sad in a party bathroom. 

stupid stupid stupid stupid.

she spins away from her reflection, remembering that she does actually have to pee pretty bad, and plops down on the toilet, content to wallow in sexual frustration and misery for the remainder of the night. 

but then, while she’s washing her hands– rather aggressively scrubbing as if she can wipe away the itch in then that yearns to be on paige’s skin– azzi’s peace and quiet is shattered by the arrival of the one person she’s currently trying to convince herself she doesn’t care the whereabouts of. 

because of course paige had followed her.  

she doesn’t even knock– the audacity– just barges right in like azzi’s not having a private moment to herself (a mental break).

“paige!” she huffs out indignantly, moving out of the way of the door and doing her very best to glare menacingly. “get out- i could’ve been peeing or something.” 

paige looks entirely unbothered by that prospect. she closes the door behind her gently without turning around, arms crossed and jaw tipped down.

she looks infuriatingly good. azzi wants to hit her. like. with her mouth. 

“nothin’ i ain’t seen before.”  she pairs this aggravatingly calm sentence with a step into azzi’s personal space, and it's outrageous how affected azzi is by simply being in close proximity to her in private. 

and how pretty she is. god damn it. 

even with the edges of her vision blurring from the liquor, and the fact that her feet feel rather unsteady on the hideous bathmat below her, azzi can tell that paige is mad. 

that type of focussed, heated anger that very rarely laces their interactions, not just simple annoyance. it unnerves her as much as it excites her, which is surely another sign that she’s going insane. 

she chooses not to respond to the insinuation that paige has seen her in every state of undress, for her own sake, and tries not to think about her and paige in states of undress at all. which is actually a supremely difficult task, particularly when, again, they’re in such close proximity. 

she’s starting to deeply regret that last chug of her drink. 

the silence hangs around them, tense, and she suddenly realizes that somehow paige has backed her up into the sink. which is odd. considering last time azzi checked they weren’t merely inches apart. so that’s. concerning. or exhilarating. who’s to say? not azzi. 

paige’s smirk is a little mean on her face, eyes wild, and she tilts her head, using the measly one inch she has on azzi to try and make her feel small. azzi refuses to let her. 

“charlie?” she says, voice unimpressed. her hands coming up to rest on either sides of azzi on the sink, caging her in. “really?” 

they’re not touching– not yet– but azzi feels the ghost of her hands anyways. 

“what about ��m,” she breathes. their faces are really close. and paige’s eyes are really blue. 

“you expect me to believe the best head you’ve ever received was from a guy named charlie?” the and not me is unspoken, but azzi hears it loud and clear. 

she scoffs, spurred on by the fire in paige’s eyes. she delights in this game. “why wouldn’t it be?”

paige’s eyes narrow. “i don’t know, maybe because last time i ate you out you came so hard you cried.” 

azzi’s blood gets impossibly hotter at the reminder, but she stays strong, lifting her chin even higher. “was faking it,” she breathes. “like i said earlier, i wasn’t impressed.”

“really,” is all paige drags out, low and dangerous, and azzi feels the tension crackle between them like a physical brand on her skin. they’re not even fucking touching yet, and she can already feel the lining of her underwear growing impossibly wet at paige’s anger. 

she refuses to contemplate the implications of that. 

she hums in agreement and doesn’t say anything else, and paige just looks at her, lets the weighted silence settle around them.

and. okay. azzi’s not proud of this necessarily, but paige is looking like that in front of her and her mouth is turned downwards because she’s jealous and trying to hide it, and her sweats are slung low enough on her hips for azzi to see the waistband of her boxers, and.

and then they’re kissing because azzi apparently has absolutely zero self control. 

her hands come up to grip paige’s shoulders, immediately opening for it, and though azzi was the one to close to gap between them, the one to tug paige down into a kiss, it’s paige that sets the pace, immediately rough and unforgiving, pining azzi hips against the counter with her own and nipping at her lips. 

and god is it good, and god has she missed this in the last few weeks. 

she’s vaguely aware of their new rules, that there are reasons they’re not supposed to be doing this whole kissing thing anymore, reasons she came up with, but she can’t for the life of her remember why she’s supposed to give a singular fuck about that right now when paige’s hands splay out across the skin of her sides underneath her shirt, and her hips are pressing into azzi’s, and her mouth is doing that delicious thing where she licks into azzi’s mouth and slide’s their tongues together, and. 

and azzi decides that this can be an exception. 

she groans into the kiss, tangling her fingers in paige’s hair, and lets her press closer, relishing in the feel of paige all over her for the first time in too long. 

the kiss is mean, claiming, and azzi knows without a doubt that paige is trying to remind her why she will always be the best azzi’s ever had. 

it makes liquid heat pool endlessly in her stomach, and she lets out a strangled cry when paige shifts to press her thigh between azzi’s legs, letting the taller girl swallow her sounds and somehow press impossibly closer. 

fuck. 

it’s always so, so good with paige. it almost makes azzi angrier, and she lets her hands tug at paige’s hair a little rougher, bites into the kiss a little meaner. 

paige must be aware that they’ve only got a few minutes before people get suspicious, because she’s sliding a hand under the waistband of azzi’s shorts and boxers after only a minute or two of making out. 

which makes the fact that azzi’s completely soaked all the more embarrassing. 

she breaks the kiss to gloat, rasping out “you get this wet for charlie?” against azzi’s lips, and. 

azzi’s completely forgotten about why he’s relevant. and then she’s yet again reminded of why paige is insufferable, because why did she have to bring that up. azzi figured the whole kissing furiously against a bathroom sink thing sort of implied charlie didn’t hold a candle. 

however. azzi would never be the one to back down from what was clearly some version of a competition, and despite the fact that, no, she’d gotten nowhere near close with him, azzi locks eyes and breathes “yeah, you’re not special.”

her voice gets choked up halfway through because paige decides to slide two fingers down and circle the entrance of her cunt, because she’s a smug bitch, and. jesus christ. azzi is criminally wet.

paige knows that they’re both aware of this. 

“is that right,” she taunts, the hand that’s not currently working lazy circles on azzi’s clit coming up to grip the base of the younger girls neck. 

self-assured prick. 

azzi only has the brain capacity to gasp out “uh huh” in response, and paige smiles at that, wicked and. pretty, actually, even though she’s an asshole. 

“want me to prove you wrong?” she pairs the question with the breach of a finger at azzi’s entrance, and. 

god help azzi. 

she whines out a “please,” before catching herself– this is a game, afterall– and adds “can’t hurt.”

somewhere in the back of azzi’s vodka-and-paige addled mind, it occurs to her that paige is being suspiciously forgiving, but she lets that thought go in favor of the approving kiss paige gives her, their mouths moving together in that delicious, all consuming way that quiets every part of her brain. 

she has half a mind to protest when paige pulls away, slipping her hand out of azzi’s shorts and tearing their mouths apart, but before she can, paige is sliding down her body to be eye level with the tops of azzi’s thighs, knees cushioned on that horrible bathmat.

god. 

azzi lets out a strangled whine when paige’s hands come up to the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. the vision of paige below her is too much, and she has to close her eyes for a second.

“you wan’ it?” she asks, looking up at azzi like a fucking siren, eyes wide and pleading like she wants it just as bad. 

and. azzi should say no, considering their entire team is on the other side of what is surely a very flimsy door, and getting eaten out on a bathroom sink that isn’t hers is probably a little distasteful. 

unfortunately for said teammates, azzi is despicably wet and paige is between her legs looking like she’ll die if azzi doesn’t say yes, and, most of all, azzi is too drunk to give a single shit if someone hears them. 

she chokes out a “yeah, need it” and is too focussed on paige’s answering grin to care about how desperate she sounds. 

instead of tugging down her basketball shorts, paige rucks up the material around one of her thighs, and latches onto the inner most sensitive part, sucking hard. she’s merely inches away from where azzi desperately needs her, and the feeling lights azzi on fire, head thumping back against the mirror behind her as pleasure takes over. 

paige works on the mark, intent on claiming, biting the sensitive flesh and then laving her tongue over it to soothe, and azzi feels drunk on not only the vodka but the pleasure too, whining quietly when paige presses a kiss to the darkened skin and pulling back with a smile. 

and fucking then. 

paige breathes “too bad,” matter of fact and smug, into the mark.

azzi’s confused as fuck at her words, has forgotten what they were saying, and then. and then paige just. stands up. 

“should call charlie to deal with that, hmm?” she pouts, fake pity lacing her words, and then she fucking pats azzi’s thigh in mock consolidation and walks out of the bathroom. 

azzi’s disoriented wail of “wait,” is too late, paige already out the door like she hadn’t been on her knees seconds prior, and azzi is suddenly alone with her muddled thoughts once more, breathing uneven, skin flushed, and rage bubbling up inside of her. 

along with, like. intense sexual frustration.  

what the actual fuck.

azzi should’ve known paige would be too petty to let that go, and she’s both furious at the blonde for setting a fucking trap, and herself for falling into it. but what an fucking self-inflated egotistical asshole.

god. 

azzi wants to march right out of the bathroom, knee paige in the stomach, pour the remainder of her drink on top of her stupidly perfect head, and then maybe possibly lick off said drink from the dip in her collarbone. and the line between her breasts. and perhaps her bellybutton. 

being mad at and being attracted to paige were two sides of the same coin on a good day, but on a drunk one? azzi wanted to solve their issues with bitemarks and bruises. which was entirely stupid and counterproductive and irrational, three qualities that seemed to follow azzi around almost as much as paige did. 

she inhales, several times, trying to clear the fog from her brain and calm the racing of her heart, and tries to push away the lingering disappointment that she won’t be coming apart at the hands of paige tonight, or anytime in the future really, seeing as– due to most of their roommates not knowing and the fact that azzi was far too prideful– she couldn’t exactly drag paige back to her room and have her way with her. 

this, coupled with the fact that it wasn't like she could just stroll in to paige’s room in two days time when they both inevitably got sick of the fight and wanted make-up sex because of the stupid fucking rules, meant that not only was azzi angry at paige for her little stunt, but she was also a little annoyed at her apparent disregard for their limited opportunities to have sex.

paige was wasting extremely precious time in which they were alone and drunk, guards lowered, and neither of them had had a singular orgasm.  

what a fucking stupid bitch. 

azzi checks her phone, happy to see that it was already past 11:30, meaning an acceptable time for her to feign exhaustion, and, with renewed anger, pushes herself off the edge of the sink and stalks out of the bathroom, intent on socializing for maximum ten more minutes before retreating to the solitude of her bedroom and getting herself off. 

to the thought of paige. 

which was something she’d unfortunately become quite familiar with ever since she’d had her awful, horrible, no good very bad idea to stop letting paige get azzi off instead, the much preferred but decidedly unavailable option. 

whatever. at least paige would probably also die of sexual frustration, and then they could rot in hell together.

a/n: sorry to edge you (paige and i will make it up to you <3) as always pleaseeee tell me if you liked it and i will die of happiness and probably kiss you <3 i hope to have the second part put early next week!

[seokmn]

EYES OFF OF YOU — CHAPTER TWENTY THREE

SYNOPSIS :: Seokmin was desperate to find the perfect model to pair up with his friend for his upcoming project, and he found you.

📝. word count: 3.6k words ‼️. warnings: slightly suggestive and mentions of sex and drugs (nothing explicit)

“Woah,” Seokmin scoffed as he looked around the place. “I left a crowded ass party to go to another crowded ass party.”

 “Dude, we’re talking about a Doyoung’s party, what did you expect?”

 “I don’t know, I thought it would be less crowded.”

 “Impossible,” Seungcheol shouted due to the blasting music and handed drinks to Seokmin and Mingyu. “Doyoung is known for his parties. I still don’t know how you and Jihoon didn’t know about him and his crazy ass parties.”

 “I usually don’t go to parties like this.”

 Seokmin’s lips found their way to the cup as he took a sip of the drink, cola with vodka.

 “Why not? Parties are cool.”

 As Seokmin was about to answer his friend, a random guy bumped into him. He glanced at the guy, who didn’t even apologize to him, and took a deep breath.

 “Because of things like this.”

 “Someone bumped into you, it’s the end of the world!” Seungcheol and Mingyu laughed. “Boo hoo, Seokmin. Boo. Hoo.”

 His friends kept talking, thinking that Seokmin was listening, but he had his attention on something else. Actually, on someone else.

 His eyes traveled through the expanded living room full of people, but it didn’t take too long for him to spot you with Seoyoung, Sujin, Joshua and Jeonghan. You were drinking and laughing along with your friends.

 The sight made Seokmin’s heartbeat race, but it also made his chest hurt with the thought of you enjoying the night and your life without caring about him.

 He could never wish you any type of bad thoughts or feelings, but deep down he wanted you to not be that happy without him by your side. He wanted you to feel as sad and as he was feeling those last days without you in his life.

 “Look, I have something to do. I’ll find you later.”

 Seokmin gave his cup to Mingyu and started to walk through the crowd, muttering excuse mes that not even him was capable of hearing them.

 “Looks like our lover boy already found his lost girl,” Seungcheol said to Mingyu. “Do you think they’re gonna make up?”

 “I don’t know. I don’t even know the reason why they’re so distant,” Mingyu sighed. “Y/N is a very nice girl, I can’t imagine her doing all this without a reason. But I also don’t think that Seokmin would do something so bad to the point of her feeling the need to ignore him, the guy is totally in love with her. She clearly has him on a leash.”

 Once Seokmin was right behind her, Joshua glanced at him, his laughter dying immediately, and tapped Jeonghan’s arm with his elbow. Jeonghan, who was laughing as well, looked at Joshua and then at Seokmin, and his laughter died just like Joshua’s and was replaced by an annoyed look.

 “What? You two were laughing at my joke just now! It wasn’t a bad joke if you were laughing that hard!”

 Sujin noticed Seokmin standing behind you as well. Her eyes flickered between your distracted figure, at Seokmin and at his hand that was almost touching your shoulder.

 You, unaware of Seokmin’s presence and of the reason why your friends stopped laughing, frowned. Was your joke so bad to the point of making the situation so tense that Jeonghan had to pull that annoyed look on his face?

 Sujin cleared her throat and secretly pointed at Seokmin. And when you looked at Sujin’s pointed direction, you knew that the tension was not because of your joke. However, you wish it was.

 Looking at Seokmin made the whole world slow down and the music become nothing but a background sound that seemed to be coming from miles away.

 You clearly weren’t ready to face him. You didn’t even imagine you’d see him around that party, but you should’ve known better. The thought of drinking for free was so captivating that you had forgotten completely about the fact that it was a famous party to the university’s students.

 “Hey,” Seokmin said and gave you an awkward smile while bringing his hand back to his side. “Listen, can we talk?”

 You just looked at him and fought the urge to hit him or to cry, you weren’t sure which one you wanted to do the most. You wanted to shout at him, to make him disappear from your face and your life, to tell him that he already hurt you enough and that you didn’t want to hear about his lies or empty apologies.

 “Look, dude,” Jeonghan stepped up and stood up beside you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and squeezing it in a comforting way. “I think you should enjoy your night somewhere else around the house. I don’t think any of us want to see your face right now.”

 Seokmin’s brows furrowed when he heard Jeonghan’s words and saw how he looked more than ready to discuss with him in case he insisted on trying to talk to you.

 He didn’t feel intimidated, though. He felt annoyed and even more confused. What did he do to you that it was so bad to the point that you couldn’t even speak for yourself and made your best friend act like he hit you or something like that?

 Seokmin glanced at Jeonghan and looked back at you, deciding to not let your best friend get between you two. He wanted to know what the hell was going on and he wouldn’t stop until he got the answers to what he wanted to know.

 “I just wanna talk, that’s all. Can we talk? Please?”

 “Didn’t you hear me? Do I need to speak louder so you can finally understand my words?” Jeonghan’s voice was indeed growing louder, catching attention from some people that were around you.

 Seokmin scoffed in response.

 “I heard you very clearly, but this is between me and Y/N, not between me and you. So I’ll leave if Y/N tells me to, but since she didn’t say anything, I won’t leave.”

 “You really have the nerves to get here and try to bullshit her after everything you did?” Jeonghan spat the words out and you looked at him a bit worried. He is not the kind of getting that kind of mad easily, and he was already getting pissed.

 “Jeonghan, let’s not…” You were interrupted by Seokmin’s scoff and irritated words. His facial expression wasn't the same gentle and sweet as usual, it was sharp and intimidating. It was your very first time seeing him like that.

 “Then tell me what the fuck you mean by everything I did, because all I’m trying to do is to talk to Y/N and find out what made her upset, apologize for it and talk through it!”

 When you heard his words, you became the most pissed person in the room. Find out what made you upset? Was he really still trying to play the good guy while being a total player underneath all that talk?

 “How ‘bout you playing with me and Kazuha, then? How ‘bout making me fall in love with you, only to find out that you are a total asshole who likes to play with girls’ feelings?”

 Seokmin’s expression slowly changed from angry and intimidating to hurt, confused and sad. He finally knew what was wrong, but wasn’t believing in what he was hearing. Did Kazuha say something to you? Was it Eunchae? Did you see Kazuha kissing him and got the wrong impression? Did someone else see them kissing and told you?

 Joshua, Sujin and Seoyoung looked at each other in shock. They were stunned to say the least. Seoyoung’s hand covered her wide opened mouth, Joshua clenched his fists and Sujin muttered curse words towards Seokmin.

 Meanwhile, Seokmin just stared at you, and you stared back at him. You were already frustrated, and when he kept silent, just looking at you, you found yourself getting even more frustrated.

 “Say something!”

 “I-I… I…” Seokmin stuttered and you laughed in disbelief.

 “Hey, guys! We were looking for you this entire time!” Yuki and Chan suddenly got closer to you, Seokmin and your friends. The couple seemed oblivious about the whole situation as Yuki took a look at your and Seokmin’s outfits. “Oh, you two are matching! That’s cute!”

 “I can explain, it’s not what you’re thinking. I swear.” Seokmin said without paying no attention to Yuki’s words and her, Chan’s or anyone’s presence but yours.

 “Explain what? How you were only talking to her and suddenly you were almost swallowing the girl by ‘accident’?! Fuck you!”

 You stormed off and Seokmin was ready to follow you, but Jeonghan pressed his hand on his chest, preventing him from following you.

 “Not so fast, you really think I’ll let you follow her? She doesn’t wanna talk to you, end of story.”

 “Let me go, I need to talk to her.”

 “No, you don’t,” Joshua spoke up. “If she left it’s because she doesn’t wanna see your face and you’re gonna respect that, do you understand? Or do I have to make you understand that?”

 “What the fuck is going on here?” Yuki’s voice was loud and full of confusion and annoyance.

 “Your little friend is a fucking asshole who likes to play with your friends’ feelings. Looks like he wanted Kazuha and Y/N at the same time and fucking went for it.”

 Seokmin clenched his fists, and that didn’t go unnoticed by Joshua, making your friend laugh.

 “What? Are you gonna punch me? I can take you down, dude, so don’t even try. Once I get my hands on you, I’ll only let go of you when  you black out or when the cops stop me.”

 “I’d like to see you try.”

 “Okay!” Yuki shouted before Joshua could get any closer to Seokmin. She took Jeonghan’s hand out of Seokmin’s chest and looked at Seokmin. “What happened?”

 “Y/N thinks I kissed Kazuha, but I didn’t. I swear on my life that that wasn’t what really happened. I didn’t kiss Kazuha and I’m not playing with them. I’m not playing with Y/N, I could never do that.”

 Yuki looked at Seokmin’s eyes intensely and she could see the distress, hurt and desperation in them. However, she didn’t need that to know that he was telling nothing but the truth.

 “I know,” she nodded. “It happened after the photoshoot, didn’t it?”

 Seokmin nodded and she looked at Joshua and Jeonghan. Joshua kept staring at Seokmin while Jeonghan’s eyes flickered between him and Yuki.

 “Yeah,” Jeonghan admitted. “She said she saw them kissing at the park.”

 “Seokmin’s telling the truth. He didn’t kiss Kazuha, it was the opposite.”

 “What?” Jeonghan asked.

 Joshua took a step back while Chan, Seoyoung and Sujin quietly observed the scene unwrapping in front of them.

 “Kazuha kissed him and confessed her love for him, but he rejected her. She talked to me about it.”

 “Why didn’t you say something before?!” Sujin asked, a little bit offended that her friend didn’t talk to her and her friends about that earlier. “Didn’t you know something happened between Y/N and Seokmin?”

 “I didn’t know! I mean, I noticed that they weren’t posting pictures together anymore, but I thought that they decided to stop posting about each other for a while so their posts wouldn’t reach Kazuha and hurt her feelings or something like that. Plus, I asked Y/N about Seokmin when I recorded her dance cover, but she told me they were fine, so I trusted her. How would I know? I’m finding out now that Y/N saw Kazuha kissing him and got the wrong impression!”

 “This is a mess…”

 “Seokmin,” Joshua placed his hand on his shoulder. His expression had softened and he had an apologetic look in his eyes. “Go find Y/N and talk to her.”

 Seokmin didn’t wait a second longer, he immediately walked through the crowd to find you and finally get over with that nightmare. He looked everywhere for you, asked random people if they saw you by describing what you were wearing and how you look, but no one said what he wanted to hear – that they knew where you were and your exact location.

 He went upstairs and started to open every door that wasn’t unlocked. But he was met only by couples having sex or doing other compromising things, he would only apologize for interrupting and would quickly shut the door once again.

 After trying three times already, he only had two more doors to open. Seokmin wrapped his hand around the doorknob and took a deep breath, mentally praying for the door to be unlocked and for finding you behind that door and not another couple having sex, people doing drugs or even worse.

 When he opened the door and saw your back facing him as you sat on the edge of the bed and looked down, he thanked God and let out a sigh in relief.

 “Y/N…”

 “Leave. Now.” Your voice sounded like you were crying and that killed Seokmin inside. It hurt him to know that you were crying because of him.

 “No,” he closed the door behind him and slowly made his way towards you. “I really have to talk to you, Y/N. You have to listen to me, please.”

 When you stayed in silence, he took that as a yes to listen to him. He stood in front of you, but you didn’t look up at him, so Seokmin got on his knees and you panicked at his sudden action.

 “What the hell are you doing?! Get up!”

 “You can either see this as me begging for your forgiveness or as me just trying to look at your face. Or maybe both, it’s whatever you decide,” he took a deep breath and tried to look into your eyes, but you looked away before he could make eye contact with you. “Look, I know that you're upset, and I’m really sorry for that. But what you think that happened isn’t what actually happened.”

 “Are you really trying to gaslight me right now…?” Your voice came out almost as a whisper. “I’m tired of this, Seokmin. It’s not like I heard someone talking about that, I saw that scene with my own fucking eyes.”

 “Y/N, I’m not trying to gaslight you. I would never do that to you. So, can you please listen to my explanation?”

 You took a deep breath and finally looked at him. Your eyes were red and puffy and your lips were slightly trembling. That sight broke Seokmin’s heart, and you could see that by the way he was clearly fighting back the tears that were filling his eyes.

 “I’m listening.”

 “Kazuha kissed me and confessed her feelings for me. I froze when she kissed me and maybe that’s why you thought that I was reciprocating the kiss, but I wasn’t,” He reached out for your hand, but you pulled it away. Seokmin sighed and wiped the tear that was rolling down his cheek with the back of his hand. “I rejected her. I told her that not only do I like someone else, but I’m in love with that person. And that person is you, Y/N.”

 “And how can I trust you? I’ve been through that before, and when I finally thought that I had met a nice guy, you do this to me,” your lips started to tremble even more and you couldn’t stop yourself from crying once again. “I thought you were different.”

 “I am different, Y/N. And if you don’t trust my words, then go ask Kazuha, Yuki or even Wonwoo about this. They will say the exact same thing I’m telling you right now,” he sighed and hesitantly cupped your cheek, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I’m so in love with you and my heart is so full of you that I can’t even say that it is actually mine. I would never do such a thing to you and I’m hating myself for making you cry… I’m deeply sorry for making you think that I was playing you, for even making you doubt my feelings for you.”

 You believed in his words, even though deep down you still had that tiny doubt. You were in love with him and it was very difficult to see him on his knees crying and trying to make you see the truth behind what you saw the other night, so you made a mental note to try to talk to Kazuha about the kissing situation in the future and let yourself melt in his touch and release all the bottled up feelings, your whole body trembling as you let out a sob and cried as hard as a kid who had their candy stolen from them. 

 Seokmin couldn’t bear seeing you breaking down like that. His tears started to flow down faster than before, and soon enough the two of you had turned into a sobbing mess.

 He hugged you tightly, pressing your chest against his and letting your tears soak his jacket and tank top, not even caring if you would dirty them with your makeup.

 “I’m sorry… I really am sorry,” Seokmin mumbled. “I love you, Y/N. Please, forgive me.”

 The only thing you could do was nod at his words and keep on crying until you calm yourself down. And that was exactly what you did.

 “It’s okay…” you whispered as you broke the hug and leaned back to look at him. Your brows furrowed when you saw the black spots on his jacket. He took a look on his shoulder and chuckled while his last tears rolled down his cheeks. “Sorry about that… I should’ve used waterproof mascara.”

 You tried to remove the black spots with your hand, but Seokmin stopped you from doing that by taking your hand in his. He flashed you a small smile – the smile you were dying to see again.

 “Don’t worry about it, okay?” He squeezed your hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of your hand before pressing it against his chest. “It’s just a jacket. Your feelings are what truly matters right now.”

 “I’m sorry for being a bitch to you in front of my friends… That wasn’t nice at all.”

 “Hey, you didn’t act like a bitch, you were upset. I can’t blame you, if I were you, I’d have acted the same way you did or even worse.”

 You just flashed him a small and quick smile.

 “So, does that mean I’m still your fling?”

 “My fling?” You chuckled and he chuckled as well while trying to wipe away the black stains on your cheeks gently. “I suppose so…”

 “You suppose so? Not quite the answer I wanted to hear, but I can work with it.”

 You felt your chest warming up and your heart melting. Seokmin was finally in your life again, and this time it was for good.

 “I’m so sorry for the way I treated you these last few days, for the way I talked to you when we were downstairs, and for my friends. They were just trying to protect me from getting hurt, especially Jeonghan.”

 “There’s no need to apologize. I just wished you could’ve talked to me about it instead of leaving me on radio silence, but it’s over now, right? And about your friends, I’m glad you have such loving friends that would do anything to protect you. Although Joshua was one of my biggest problems back there, not Jeonghan.”

 “Josha?” You laughed out loud and shook your head. “Joshua is a very calm guy, he means no harm.”

 “Oh, but we almost got into a fight and he said that once he got his hands on me, he would only let go of me when I blacked out or when the cops stopped him.”

 Your laughter died and you frowned. “What? He said that?”

 “Yes, he did. But it’s fine, nothing happened. He just wanted to protect you, and he looked at me with an apologetic expression when he and your friends found out the truth.”

 “I… I could never imagine that Joshua would say such a thing.”

 “Your friends seemed surprised as well, so I guess he was really pissed with the thought of you getting hurt. But can we stop talking about this and get back on talking about us?”

 “Can we just get out of here? I’m really not in the mood to be at this party anymore.”

 “I wanted to ask you the same thing,” he smiled. “Want to go to my dorm? We can talk in peace there, and then later we can watch a movie and cuddle. What do you think?”

 Seokmin's hand went to the back of your neck and his fingers brushed against your warm skin.

 “Just watch a movie and cuddle?” You raised your eyebrow. His words were gentle and meant nothing more than what he said, but his touch indicated otherwise.

 “I mean,” he smirked and shrugged his shoulders. “It’s not like I’d say no if you told me you wanted more than to watch a movie and cuddle. You see, I’m not gonna be that type of guy who suggests something more right after having you spending days thinking that I was a jerk who was playing you… I’m gonna be that guy who is more than ready to do something more if you suggest it.”

 “Okay then, let’s go to your dorm and see what happens. I just need to find my friends and tell them that I’m leaving with you.”

 “You’re in control, boss,” he pecked your lips and couldn’t hold back his smile and excitement, which led him to peck your lips once again before managing to keep his cool. “Let’s go.”

little note: visual representation of how seokmin looked like when he was on his knees Now imagine he's holding back his tears/crying. ur welcome.

MASTERLiST - PREViOUS - NEXT

🔔. tagging! :: @svtmaryeom, @wonkierideul, @noircheols, @mi9yuz, @u7140823, @paradiseoflosers, @tastyluvr, @starshuas, @kaekiiet, @supi-wupi, @starsunoo, @mimimiloomeelomi, @himewonu, @iamdkayyyyy, @lukeys-giggle, @imhereonlytoreadxoxo, @sumzysworld, @tkooooop, @chemiru, @kpopenthusiast143

[simandy]

I think my exams are AI generated. Can i die now

[megumi-fm]

.

[newtafterdark]

Is "Zug" really German for "train"? Because the orcs in World of Warcraft, when they respond to an order, they go "zug zug" (I think it means "understood"), and I think there's a joke in here somewhere, like, a train passes by and the orcs see it and say "zug zug, lol" or something idek.

Pfffft- honestly that would be adorable!

And yeah, "Zug" is German for "train". And the plural is "Züge"! :>

[shinoko-oshi]

Simon Noticed The Little Things

Simon noticed the little things.

Always had. Oversensitive to the details, the crumbs most people overlooked. He saw people, truly saw them. Heard them. Understood them. But no one had ever seen him back. He only knew what it felt like to observe, never to be observed.

Until you.

Until you handed him a pair of gloves on a random Wednesday, saying you noticed his were wearing thin. The exact same brand, same skeleton design, same size. Fit just right, snug over his hands— something he always struggled to find. A weird flutter settling in his stomach.

Until you got him a drink at the bar: no ice. Just the way he liked it. He’d never told you that, never mentioned how he hated when melted ice watered it down. You just knew. You just saw him.

Until you saved him a seat in the meeting room, the one facing the door. Knew he needed to see the exit, needed that small control over any space that eased him. Never asked why. Never judged. Just silently understood.

So Simon saw you, too.

That’s why he was standing in front of your door now, a bouquet of daisies in hand. Because he remembered the way your eyes had lit up on that mission, the way you plucked a few wild ones from the ground, bringing them to your nose with a happy little smile.

When you answered, he asked you on a date. And when you said yes, he took you to a Mexican restaurant. Because he saw the wrappers in your trash can from the busy days you opted for something fast.

And when you got back to your place that night, he knew exactly what to do to make you fall apart.

Watched the way your face twitched and turned when his fingers curled just right inside you, dragging against that spot that had your breath hitching. other hand working slow, deliberate circles against your clit, pushing you higher until your legs trembled from pleasure, your body melting under his touch.

Then he was shoving his cock inside you, his jeans long gone, his belt discarded somewhere on the floor. Each thrust deep, hitting every spot that made you gasp, made you cling to him, moaning his name until it came out all jumbled sounding like a foreign word.

By the third orgasm, you were wrecked, body pliant and shaking beneath him, and when he finally came, he wasted no time pulling you into his arms.

Tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, pressed a slow, grounding kiss to your forehead.

And the next morning, he made you chocolate pancakes.

Because before he ever touched you, before he ever kissed you, fucked you, and made you his.

He saw you. And you saw him.

[mywritersmind]

COOLDOWN - LN4&OP81

summary : Locked in a cooldown room with two teammates in orange is not how you expected to be celebrating your win. Definitely not expected, but welcomed.

listen up : smut!! taking abt threats. under lockdown, p in v. oral (m receiving), threesome, not proofread!!!!! i hope this is hot idk

words : 2547

⋆｡‧˚⋆

The three of you have been stuck for almost an hour. When the cameras cut out, so did the lights, then the doors locked and each of you got a million alerts to stay put.

Some threat was made, apparently a big one because the whole paddock is in lockdown just after the race ended. As scary as it sounds, you’re not worried.

The cooldown room is arguably the best place to be stuck. A backup light that drapes the room in a hazy yellow glow, No media, No fans, and two drivers in bright orange slumped in their chairs.

You can tell Lando is the most bored, stretching every five seconds and saying random things to try and start conversation.

Oscar is on the other side of you, his race suit matching Lando’s down the way they have it undone. His hair is a mess still, his hands behind his head and making you peak at his accentuated back.

The two men have been in your life for a year now, both too intrigued for their own good. “Have you guys ever had sex in a car?” Lando turns his head to both of you, getting to a certain point of insanity especially because how good you both look in his eyes.

“Us…?” Oscar says questionably.

Lando rolls his eyes, pulling off his cap and throwing it at his teammate, “No you muppet. Separately.” he smirks just as a rogue curl falls onto his forehead, “Unless…”

“Yeah.” Oscar answers quickly, hoping to shut him up, “Not with her.”

“Have you?” You can’t help but ask, crossing your arms over your chest and looking at the dark haired driver.

“I asked first.” he shoots back, something dancing in his eyes that tell you keep going, while everything inside you screams to stop.

“I crossed the finish line first.” You tilt your head, a slick reminder of why you’re sitting between the two.

They’d been in your rear view the whole race, swapping positions and fighting for that top step. They’d had a bad feeling just after lap one, as if they were in sync in realizing that you were not going to give either the chance to even try to fight you.

“Then cut me some slack, winner.”

Your eyes narrow, “I don’t like the idea of you knowing anything about my sex life.”

He just smirks, shrugging as if you’re the best of friends. “Seems great to me.”

You run your tongue over your teeth, giving in, more interested in his answer than yours. “Yes.”

“Damn.” He mumbles, “I feel left out.”

Oscar looks genuinely surprised at this, his brows furrowing as he leans forward in his chair, “You’ve never had sex in a car?”

You laugh, “That’s surprising.”

Lando’s jaw drops, letting out a scoff, “Why?”

You bite back a smile, eyeing Oscar who’s already looking at you. “You seem like the guy to christen a new car with an orgasm.” Oscar laughs at this, leaning back in his chair while Lando grins.

“Maybe I'll start.” He shrugs, moving his arms to drape over the back of the chair.

The younger of team Mclaren runs a hand over his face, “If we ever get out of here.”

“You offering, Piastri?” You can’t help but joke, the man eyeing you with no change in his expression except a quirk of his brow.

You stare at each other for one, weighted second, the silence being broken by Lando who’s seemingly taken the role of entertainer, “Where’s the craziest place you’ve had sex?”

“Are these all going to be related to sex?” Oscar pauses to ask his friend.

“Answer it, Osc.” Lando finds himself grinning now, looking at Oscar’s sudden shift in manner.

“It can’t be that crazy.” You say, shifting to the side and starting to get uncomfortable in the race suit.

“I don’t know… Oscar’s pretty freaky.” Lando says, looking directly at Oscar with a sneaky look in his eye.

You turn to him, raising a brow and not missing the way he smirks, “Speaking from experience?”

They both go quiet. Now this… you didn’t expect.

“Holy shit, have you guys fucked?” You laugh out loud. Wow, and you thought this day couldn’t get any better.

“No.” Oscar replies just as Lando shakes his head, “No way.”

You narrow your eyes at both of them, “But something has happened… right?” Lando shifts in his seat while Oscar just looks at the floor, “Don’t be shy. From what i’ve heard- it’s a common occurrence in teammates. Late nights… long meetings… hotel rooms…” They glance at each other. Oscar blushes. “I’m totally right, aren’t I?”

“So what, you’re fucking Verstappen then?”

You scoff, “I don’t do guys with children under twenty.” Lando is about to go back to your comment but you speak first, “Let me guess. Jacking eachother off? Or in the same room? Celebratory blow jobs? Don’t tell me you’ve shared a girl-”

“If we say yes will you stop?” Oscar has his head in his hands, his voice muffled and your smile growing.

“Which one?” You're pushing their limits but you don’t care.

Lando eyes you, “We’ve never shared a girl.” Oscar is shaking his head which still resides in his hands, the tips of his ears pink.

“You’ve done everything else?” Suddenly the room gets very hot- or maybe that’s just you. The thought of the two of them, desperate and needing each other, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

You hadn't realized that Oscar took his head out of his hands, his eyes blaring into you now and reading you like a fucking book.

“I had sex on a ferris wheel.” You say, desperate to change the subject suddenly.

“Jet ski. We flipped.” Lando says, looking at Oscar and tapping his foot.

“Principal's office.” He bites out, “Lost my virginity there.”

“I always knew I liked you.” You grin, tapping your nail on the armrest.

Lando cuts in, “How about another game? Truth or dare?”

You cross your legs and nod, “Truth.”

“Hottest guy on the grid.”

“It isn’t between you two… if that’s what you’re hoping.”

He shrugs, “Just hoping for truth.”

“Sainz.”

Lando scoffs, “He’s not even-”

“Hey! You asked for the truth.” Oscar laughs, making you look at him, “Something funny?”

“No, I agree.”

“What!?” Lando says soundly, “Hold on a second-”

“It’s the hair right!?”

He nods, “Body too.”

“I hate you both.”

“You’re a horrible liar, Lan.” Oscar says and it’s one of those moments when you remember how close the actually are.

Your mind goes straight back to them hooking up.

“So are you!” He argues, “Rivalry’s aren’t as hot as you think.”

“Truth or dare, Lando.” You say, an idea already in your head which is completely dependent on how reckless Lando is feeling today.

“…Dare.”

Oscar shakes his head, as if he knows what’s coming.

You just smirk. “Kiss Oscar.”

He doesn’t look worried, if anything, he looks pleased. Lando stands and as you motion Oscar to get up, he sends you an annoyed look. He’s not fooling either of you because as soon as Lando pulls him in for the kiss, Oscar definitely isn’t complaining.

You’re staring up at them. It’s probably the most insane thing you’ve ever seen, but then again, it seems so fitting. Lando holds the back of Oscar’s neck as if he’s done this a million times, he probably has.

Your mouth is slightly open, watching Oscar’s tongue meet Lando’s in a sensual and slow type of need.

Lando pulls away first, plopping down onto the floor and using his chair as a headrest, “Happy?”

“Horny?” Oscar coughs, looking directly at you when he does it. “Truth or dare, Y/n?”

The air is thick with tension, the faded light making both of them glow as they watch you. You say it confidently, “Dare.” but as soon as you see Lando’s smirk, your heart rate rises.

“Kiss one of us.”

It’s simple- it’s payback. It’s something that you can’t do. “No.”

“You’re chickening out?” Lando says.

“No, as in, I'm not choosing.” You shrug, unzipping your suit a bit more, “You pick.” They look at eachother, then you.

“Unfair.”

“Why? You both want me that bad?” You say it as a joke, carrying out the words with a laugh. They’re not laughing.

It’s Oscar who’s brave enough to say it, “Yeah,” he glances at Lando, “we do.”

“I-” none of the drivers have shown interest. Maybe it’s because of professionalism, maybe it’s because you’re too new and too female. This… is dangerous territory. “Arm wrestle.”

It seemed ridiculous at first, to them at least. But one end goal was always in your mind, and that is not having to choose one.

They’re up in a second, standing on either side of the table mounted to the wall’s corner. You stand, watching them lean over and join hands.

“We’re really doing this?” Oscar tilts his head at his teammate who purses his lips and nods towards you, theirs eyes still on eachother.

“Look at her.” When he does, every part of you feels it. Oscar Piastri never gives a meaningless look, that’s what worries you.

Lando’s hand is bigger than Oscar’s. Even though the three of you haven’t been close, it's something you’ve seen repeatedly either in real life or on social media. Maybe you’ve thought about it repeatedly too.

Both of their arms flex, fighting for dominance when you’re a bit distracted by their hands.

You roll your eyes when they take too long, sitting in Lando’s place on the floor and appraising the rest of them. Oscar’s taller, bigger… but Lando’s got the energy to overpower him even if he’s a brat.

Lando wins, locking his wrist and pinning his teammate's hand to the table, “Shit.” Oscar mumbles, stretching out his arm afterwards.

Lando scrambles to get next to you, waiting with puppy dog eyes and his face close to yours. You laugh, looking at Oscar who shrugs, sitting across from you both and nodding at you to kiss him.

God. That race now feels like fucking foreplay.

You kiss him soft, sweet. You kiss him like he’s the only thing in the world and the second his hand meets your waist, you stop. Lando pouts, a look that gets turned into confusion as you sit up and turn your attention to Oscar.

“I hate choosing.” Is all you say before crawling to the second man in orange and pulling him in. You can tell he’s trying to be soft, but you don’t want that for him. You grab his face and kiss him harder, feeling his hand on your ass and letting it stay there.

You hear Lando whine behind you as you straddle Oscar, hear Oscar groan as you grind into him.

Oscar’s lips meet your neck, allowing you the flexibility to look back at Lando. His hand is palming his underwear, his suit to his knees and his mouth slightly opened.

It’s so hot and so fucking dirty that you kiss Oscar again. “C’mon…” Lando whines, “I won the arm wrestling. I beat him in the race. I deserve it more.” he cuts right to the chase.

You pull away from Oscar who immediately works on pulling down your suit. “You’re a brat.”

Oscar pulls it off, only fireproofs and your pink lace thong left. They both groan.

You’re still on Oscars lap, his lips on your neck as you beckon Lando over. He comes right up to your face, trying to kiss you and getting rejected by a whispered, “You jealous?”

He nods, just nods.

Oscar cuts in now, “Of which one of us.”

Lando looks at you. Then Oscar. His eyes flicking between the two people who are responsible for his hard on. “Both.”

You kiss him then, hand going straight for his dick while simultaneously grinding on Oscars. “I think I dreamt about this once.” Lando mumbles into the kiss, making you and Oscar both laugh.

“Wanna check off that last thing on the list?” You ask, your mind consumed with the two men in front of you and how they would feel in you.

They both nod, Lando pulling off his fireproof as if it’s betraying him. Their lips meet in a strangled messy way, unconsciously moving your hips over Oscar again while Lando, fully distracted, tries to pull your top off.

“Want some help with that?” you say in a breathy voice, watching Lando twitch under his underwear.

“Thought that was my job.” Oscar says, smirking as Lando pulls out his dick, clearly not caring who helps. He’s standing in between you and with one wink, you and Oscar lick the sides of his cock.

He grabs your hair, Oscar’s shoulder, practically begging already. You take him fully in your mouth before Oscar can say anything about it. The feeling of rocking against a clothed, hard dick while having another one in your mouth is something you will never forget.

You feel your panties getting pushed aside, Oscar’s fingers, slim but mighty, slide into you with a choked groan. It’s a mess of wet and needy people wanting each other, Oscar taking over for Lando while still fingering you.

You pull Oscar’s dick out, too needy when his fingers leave you to meet Lando’s mouth. He’s hard as a rock, bigger than Lando but slimmer, making you practically scream when you sink down on him.

He moans on Lando’s dick, a sound so erotic that you could come right then and there. “Holy fuck.” Lando’s legs are shaking, his eyes meeting yours as he cums in Oscar's mouth.

Lando kneels again, kissing you hard and fast while Oscar, his mouth a bit sticky, throws his head back. Lando pulls your shirt up, kissing on your tits while you bounce up and down. You reach for his dick, it twitching and partially hard already.

“Take me so well…” Oscar groans, kissing you sloppily.

“So hot.” Lando groans, “I call next.” You don’t wait for you or Oscar to finish, rising up so the sudden feeling of him makes you feel empty.

You’ve got your sights set on Lando, ready to really see who can beat you in something, when someone bangs on the door.

You freeze. The lights are on. When did the lights come on?

“How are you three doing in there? Unlock the door. Situations over. Podiums still on.”

You all three swear. You get your clothes back on first, Lando and Oscar far slower and more obviously turned on.

“We can’t go out like this-” Oscar tries to readjust his hard and dripping dick.

“That’s what you’re worried about? You were inside of her and I was so close-” Oscar slaps the back of Lando’s head as he zips up his suit.

“That’s one way of letting the time pass.” You breathe out, brushing down your hair and smiling.

Lando groans, “Unfair- you look perfect. You’re fucking glowing! We’re fucking blue balled and a mess.”

“Have fun out there.” You drift your hand over Lando’s chin, fixing Oscar’s hair, “Drown me in champagne and pretend it’s cum.”

You unlock the door, practically skipping out and leaving them with their dicks hard, lips read, and jaws on the floor.

[rosemaryhoney27]

MisDialed Hearts

inspired by this Prompt

Link

Tim Drake was cornered—again.

It had been one of those evenings, the kind that made Tim question every life decision that led him to being a CEO and a vigilante. Another gala. Another crowd of sharks in designer suits. Another round of well-meaning Gotham socialites asking about his dating life with a glint in their eyes like they were just waiting to pounce.

He needed out.

That’s when it happened. His phone buzzed with an unknown number. An escape hatch from the universe. A gift from the chaotic gods of Gotham.

Without hesitating, Tim pressed Answer and raised the phone to his ear like it was a lifeline.

“Hey, babe,” he said smoothly, walking briskly toward the exit, waving apologetically to the board members mid-sentence. “You’re calling now? I told you I was gonna be late—don't be mad. I'm on my way.”

There was a long pause on the other end. Then a confused voice said, “Uh. I think I called the wrong number...?”

Tim’s eyes lit up. Jackpot.

“I’ll be there in just a moment to pick you up,” he replied warmly, as if this was a normal thing, as if he hadn’t just started weaving a lie that would need more patching than a Gotham street after Scarecrow blew up half the block.

“Wha–?! Wait—what do you mea—”

Click. Tim hung up with a satisfied smile. He could already feel Babs and Dick squinting suspiciously at him from across the ballroom, probably comparing this situation to “that time Tim faked an uncle for six months.”

He needed someone real to make this lie work. Even if it started with a wrong number.

And he had the number.

— Meanwhile…

Danny Fenton blinked at his phone. He was sitting cross-legged on his twin bed in his Gotham University dorm, textbooks open in front of him, a microwaved quesadilla cooling by his side.

He'd been trying to call his physics lab partner, but either she changed her number or—

Or some random dude just answered way too comfortably and now might be on his way to pick him up. For a date.

“…Gotham,” Danny muttered, flopping backwards and groaning into his pillow. “I’m too tired for this.”

He considered texting the guy back, but he’d barely locked his phone when a black car pulled up in front of his dorm building.

A tall figure stepped out. a sinfully attractive man in a sleek black suit, tossing his keys to a valet who wasn’t even there five seconds ago, like Gotham just conjured them from the shadows.

Tim Drake.

“Are you Danny?” he asked, walking toward him with a smile that said, just go with it, please, but in the most polite, billionaire way possible.

Danny blinked. “Yeah…?”

Tim opened the car door. “Perfect. Sorry I’m late.”

“…okay.” Danny got in. He was too tired to fight this. Also? Tim smelled like expensive cologne and decisions that made bad ideas sound good.

“Just so you know,” Danny said as they pulled into traffic, “I have no idea what’s going on.”

Tim gave him a sideways glance, smirk playing on his lips. “You called me. I just answered.”

“You said you were picking me up for a date.”

“And I’m a man of my word.”

Danny stared at him, dumbfounded. “Are you always like this?”

“Only when I’m being watched.”

Danny glanced behind them. Yep. That was definitely Nightwing in a very poorly concealed civilian outfit tailing their car. Robin was flying overhead. Batgirl’s silhouette was just visible on a rooftop.

“Oh my god,” Danny muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You dragged me into a Bat thing, didn’t you?”

Tim gave him an innocent look. “Do you want dinner? I know a place.”

Danny stared at him for another beat, then leaned back in the seat with a sigh.

“You know what? Fine. You’re hot, I’m tired, and I skipped lunch. Let’s go.”

Tim smirked again. “Excellent. Just don’t be surprised if someone tries to kill us. It’s Gotham, after all.”

Danny groaned. “That’s fine. I’m half-dead anyway.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Wait—what?”

Danny smirked this time. “You faked a boyfriend. I fake being alive sometimes. Let’s call it even.”

Tim laughed. “Oh, I like you.”

“I’m still charging you for gas money,” Danny deadpanned.

"But I'm the one driving"

"So."

They were a disaster already. Gotham might never recover.

[hoshigray]

𝐂𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐮𝐩𝐭 𝐌𝐞, 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 | gojō satoru

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: bully! Gojo x afab/fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! you + Gojo are college juniors - first kiss - fingering (f! receiving) - sqüiřtıng - virginity loss - corruption kink - missionary + deep impact positions - clitoral play - unprotected sex (psa: wrap the willy, you sillies!) - premature ejaculation - pet names (baby, crybaby, cutie, princess) - itty bitty possessiveness - mention of spit/drool and tears.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.6k

“Yo.”

“Yes, Satoru?”

“You never had your first kiss, huh?”

Gojo Satoru takes pleasure in being your bully — nothing in his third year of college gives him much joy than being your one source of torment. Sure, he’s got everything: being the campus’ grounds #1 heartthrob, a star player on the men’s basketball team, and an excellent scholar in all his courses despite being a dickhead. But, even if he possesses the things that put him at the top of the class body, his other fountain of entertainment comes from something - or someone - that playing ball or dormitory parties can’t produce the same level of internal enjoyment. 

You and he were alone in his apartment, umbrellaed under the instruction of working on an upcoming project this month. Of course, boredom is evident in the tall one’s heavy sighs as he looks through multiple articles on his laptop. Cerulean orbs wander away from the device’s screen and land on the other side of the couch; another figure glued to the armrest is concentrated on typing their keyboard to notice the prying survey. 

Gojo’s ennui begins to flicker out the moment he sees you, wanting nothing to do with this damn assignment and just to mess with his favorite pushover. This is precisely why he prompts himself to ask you a question, and judging by how quickly your fingers stop typing, now his attention is hooked onto a matter way more fascinating.

He spots your flattened lips. “…Wh–Where did that come from?”

“Just curious, a random thought that came to my head.” 

“Why was that the thought that—“

“Hey, aren’t ya gonna answer the question?”

You stammer. “What makes you think I never had my first kiss?!”

He lifts a brow; his round shades shine when he smirks. “So you did have a first kiss?” Your lips open with no voice, and both silver eyebrows rise from the silent answer you’re giving, only for you to close your mouth and avert your gaze elsewhere. Gotcha, he stifles a chuckle. “Thought so, you terrible liar. Embarrassed I called you out? Haha, hilarious.”

Your eyes may be on the words of your document on your laptop, but the heat on your cheeks and the uncomfortable knot in your gut kept brewing. You chew on your lips to focus on something other than the guy getting a kick out of your lack of experience — the guy you don’t hear close and place his computer on the coffee table.

“Hey,” the closeness of his voice takes you aback, and you’re surprised to see him sit closer enough to bring a hand to close your laptop. “Wanna kiss me?”

Mortified eyelids shoot wide. “Wanna—Wh-What!?!” What the fuck is going on?!? “Why would you ask me—“

A nonchalant shrug adds more weight to your shock. “Why not? It’s just you and me, alone in my apartment at 8 o’clock. Sounds like a perfect opportunity, doncha think?” 

“Yeah, to do work!” Your emphasis fails as Gojo takes your device to add to the table surface. “I-I didn’t come here for you to question me and ask to—“

“You got someone else you’re waiting for?” He uses a hand to cage you from escaping, a knee between your legs. He knows he has the upper hand, observing behind shielded sunglasses as he awaits your response. 

“I–W-Well,” God, what did I get myself into? “Not necessarily…”

“So, do you not trust me with your first kiss?”

“That’s…That’s not the point—“

“You’re deflecting!”

“Satoru,” the way you say his name — low and soft, a pleading whisper — makes something switch for Gojo, looking at your bashful expression with hesitant hands, barely pushing his chest. “We shouldn’t…Let’s get back to the assignment?”

That wasn’t working on him; he’d never want to stop teasing you, especially now when you look too cute. “Let me kiss you one time, ‘kay? Then, we’ll go straight back to work.” He can see the cogs work in your brain, deciphering whether he is genuine. Was he? He couldn’t tell; all he was thinking about was how your lips felt. “I promise, princess.”

You didn’t mean it to happen, but you scan from his shades to his lips; now, it’s all you can see. The bob of his Adam’s apple, when he gulps, has your breath hitch, and after a few silent seconds with no movement, he begins to descend his face lower, and your lids swiftly close. So does his as he gently places his pillowy lips onto your plump ones, and a hushed squeak doesn’t go neglected.

Cherry — that’s the flavor that Gojo can taste. It has to be from the lip gloss you plastered on your lips that made them inviting to gawk at, pretty lips that the tall other couldn’t stop peering occasionally. He licks the bottom, taking in more of the taste with a soft groan. You yelp, gaping your lips further to give the man above an idea, and chew on your bottom lip. More whimpers slide past your control, hands gripping his sweatshirt as he peppers you with soft kisses, latching onto yours for longer seconds from one after the other — so much for one kiss.

You’re the one to break it off, hesitantly backing away from him to breathe. Hot skin returns to the cold air, and intimate huffs fuel into the space. You open your eyes slowly, half-lidded with knitted brows and scorching ears. You examine Gojo’s neutral expression; orbs that were once filled with reluctance are now replaced with a...wonder.

An innocent wonder that nearly has Gojo shut down from seeing as your hands steadily ring around his neck. There it is again, another switch flipped. This time, a spark ignites his brain, curiosity coursed to a more indecent field after what it feels like taking your first kiss. Because the way you’re looking under him — entirely submitted to him and his touch — wasn’t something he expected to rock his core. And all he can think about now…

…Is what taking all of your firsts would be like.

“—Taaahhh, haah…! Satoru, w-wait a min—“

“Hey, baby, tell me, what’s it like having my fingers inside you?”

Gojo’s little experiment delved into different extremes; your first kiss was the starting point of the many thoughts that perturbed his thinking. He wanted to know more about your potential firsts. For example, such as right now, how you’d be if he were the first to touch your privates. 

The atmosphere around the living room became hotter; the tepid silence switched with the erotic sounds and squeals that exited your system. Your legs spread apart, Gojo in between your thighs as his big, calloused hand swims under your panties to shove away and meet the bareness of your cunt. You were so wet, your liquids effortlessly coating his fingertips with barely any push. An entire mess between your inner thighs and labia. And that made Gojo’s mind go wild.

“Holy shit,” he chuckles in a heavy sigh. “So fucking wet and tight…Heh, you’re all like this because of a kiss, huh? So adorably pathetic.”

Refutation is impossible as he curls his forefinger inside, scraping your upper wall in a manner you never envisaged. “Sator—Mmmph…!” He keeps pushing the digit to the knuckle, touching crevices of your inner channel you could never reach. “O-Ohhh, Jesus…”

“Mmmm, fuck, you're twitching like crazy,” and Gojo was loving every second of it. The taller junior then decides to test something and creeps his middle finger near your opening, smearing itself with your come as lube. 

You sense him push the finger in, nerves heightened. “W-Wait, Satoru, I can’t—“

“Oh, yes, you can.” He interrupts you with a cheeky sneer. “You’re practically asking for it with you twitching so much. Watch.” Gojo pushes the middle digit leisurely; your beseeching babbles become increasingly incoherent when he adds the whole thing with the other finger. Now, both of them have you shrilling from their intrepid fashion, grazing on your vaginal walls with every pull and shove until his knuckles smooch your labia.

Good God, the place is so hot, your face is hot, your body’s hot, your insides feel hot — everything is just too hot for you to handle! And your brain cannot hold itself together as the seconds go. You throw your head back, your eyes sewn shut, “OhGod, ahhck! Wait, stooop! Go slow, go slo—Ohhh!” Gojo does the exact opposite; the pace of his fingers surges to a tempo you find difficult to ride through. Your entire frame locks together, preparing for the inevitable to slip past your hold, and tremors course around you as your orgasm hits you like a train.

Simultaneously as Gojo continues to rut your soapy cunt, a clear liquid disperses out of your urethra and sprays outward. Sprinkling onto the skin of your thighs and drenching your underwear. Although you’re not the only one who gets caught, Gojo at the front gets a genuine display of you showering his forearm with your essence, damping his sweatshirt in the process, and even a bit on his sunglasses.

It happens the third time: something snaps inside Gojo once he sees your oddly beautiful teary face. It’s at that moment that something in his core breaks and permeates his entire body with a force that’s been itching to get out when he kissed you earlier. He swallows thickly because the next thing he does after this will eat him alive, a queerly anticipated feeling for the white-haired man.

Of course, Gojo is astonished at what transpired, the shock in his eyes concealed by the shades. “Did you…just squirt on me?” His ears pick up the sound of you sobbing, your hands covering your face as you whine.

Massive tears roll down your cheeks, “I—hic—I told you to wait…!” 

It’s a no-brainer that Gojo pulls you off the couch and leads you to throw on top of his bed, stripping himself off his pants and briefs to free his raging erection and crawling up on top of you after chucking his shades off. A gasp leaves puffy lips when his pink glans meet the folds of your vagina, burrowing between your labia to coat with your slick.

“Satoru, wait,” you voice. “D-Don’t you have a condom?”

“Sorry, ran out of them.” Lies. Gojo knows he has rubbers tucked in his nightstand. However, the intention to use them is nowhere to be found. Because tonight – knowing completely and damn well you’re still a virgin – he had to fuck you raw. The drive to do so sent shivers up his spine. “Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll promise to pull out.”

Yet again, another deception.

Gojo pushes the tip in as he counts your breaths, watching every wince and contortion of your expression as the cockhead ventures and seeks shelter inside your slit. Your body is squirming through every exhale, and Gojo’s coaxes to relax your rigidness are somewhat helpful as you intake air. Before you know it, your mouth goes to a permanent ‘o’ shape once the tip is inserted, the act of breathing stops, and your body recoils and tenses as he slowly forces the foreign limb to carve your tightness inch by inch.

Oh, fucking shit…!! Oh yeah, Gojo thanks himself for not putting on a rubber. The firm grasp of your walls around his length nearly has him lose balance, sinking into your warm wetness clenching onto him so deliciously. He bites his lip to composure, a futile attempt as he throws in a few slow thrusts, and the snug of you has him in a chokehold. Then, when he hits your cervix, you instinctively grip onto him tighter and wrap your legs around him, and Gojo almost chokes. 

“F-Fuuck, wait, wait..!” He curses, submitting to a release way too early; his hips tremble as his cock ejaculates into your vagina. Shocks rattle his brain, rolling his eyes to the ceiling at the sensation of pooling himself into you. “Shit, oh shiiiit…this fucking pussy is driving me crazy.”

It really does because Gojo, still keen from his climax, dials the cadence, rutting into you with purpose. The sudden movements have your shrieks bouncing across the bedroom walls, and hits to your womb are frequent and cause more tears to strike down without your comprehension. “Nnnmm! OhhhmyGod…! Mmoohh!!”

“Heh, look at you cryin’,” Gojo teases you from above, licking a tear before kissing your cheek and ear. “Guess that’s expected for your first time, huh…Hnnnm, God, you’re clenching my dick so much.”

“Th-That’s because you’re—“The curve of his shaft has the tip graze your walls in an angle that makes your back arch. “Ahhoooo!! I’m fuull; you’re making me fulll…!!”

“Awww, am I making you full, crybaby?” He mocks you in your ear, the snicker sounding too salacious to the drum. “You full with my dick that it got you whining and crying for me?”

I can’t do this! Your brain dissolves into mush, and your face is too hot to construct adequate consciousness. “I can feel it, I can feel…”

“What is it? I can’t hear you through all the sobbing,” Gojo unscrews your legs to maneuver one for him to straddle and the other to lie on his shoulder. The new position gave him a directed way to piston his pelvis into your aching cunt, your squeals turning into screams as pokes to your womb come with the feverish pacing. He’s hitting so deep you can’t catch up! “What, you think you’re about to cum?”

You nod hurriedly. “Yes, yesss!!”

“Oh, that’s what you want now?” The snow-headed man chortles before sneaking a hand to your vulva, where his fore and middle finger swipe on your clit. “Tell me, is that what my pathetic angel wants?” You nod again, so he pinches your bud. “Tell me properly~.”

“—Ahhnnn, ohh, Sa—‘Toruuu!!” You pan to him. “Pleaseee, please make me cum, I wanna cum…!!”

God, this was a picture worth savoring. The image of you being all desperate for release, wanting nothing but to succumb to your wanton desire. You looked so ruined, like a completely different person compared to the meek exterior Gojo used to. And it’s all because of him – his words, his touches, his lips, and his dick – that you’re like this. A fact that only propels him to hammer his hips into you harsher. 

“Good girl,” he bends down to close his face to yours. Surveying you make such erotic faces as he keeps playing with your clit is food for his soul. “Enjoy yourself, princess,” and he steals your lips once more for another kiss.

Your orgasm comes to you quicker than ever, thanks to the work of Gojo’s hips, the hits of your cervix, the pinches on your clitoris, and the sloppy makeout session. Your body freezes and lets the aftershocks jolt you to a rocky clarity, your head in a dense fog, and your vision just about blurry. Your legs quiver with heaving breaths, and Gojo keeps thrusting as you soon fall out of your euphoria. 

The cold air blankets both of you once tense muscles calm down and bring you two back to reality. Silence befriends the lack of words aside from the pants of breath, and Gojo sluggishly withdraws his cock out of your wet chasm, whistling at the sight of his load slowly protruding out of your essence.

“Hey,” your face forms into a helpless expression. “Bet you never tried anal before.”

Tonight was dedicated to conquering all of your firsts. And Gojo means that with every bone in his body!

© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ⊹ transparent edit made by me + dividers from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more.

[rafesangelita]

♡ it’s that time of year again, and kook!sweetheart!reader is here and ready to kiss for charity in her annual kissing booth! however, rafe is first in line.. and a peck on the cheek is not the only thing he’s interested in

warnings: s1!rafe, flirty banter, dirty talk, heavy petting, fingering, overstimulation, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgasms

a/n: now presenting… ‘KISSING BOOTH’ 🤍 i was so obsessed with this idea, i had came up with it last year but decided i should wait for valentine’s day to write it, so to say it’s been a long time coming is an understatement! i’m so excited for this valentine’s day celebration, i hope you all will love it <3

link: VALENTINE’S DAY CELEBRATION ໒꒰ྀི｡- ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

wc: 1.5k

“wow, it looks like cupid threw up in here.” you smiled at the familiar voice, your best friend rolling her eyes when she saw the way your cheeks heated at rafe’s teasing words. while she thought rafe was annoying and insufferable, you absolutely adored him, always laughing at his lame jokes and letting him hold you close at parties as if to let everyone know that you were off limits. “you don’t like the way i decorated the booth?” you pouted up at him as he leaned over the front counter, a smug grin gracing his features. “yeah, it’s cute..” he trailed off, “but are you really gonna kiss some random assholes for a fuckin’ dollar?”

you sighed, pointing towards the tip jar. “it’s for charity, rafe.. and i’m not really ‘kissing’ anyone, i’m barely grazing their cheek!” rafe scoffed before studying you for a moment. you were such a pretty thing, the idea of some losers waiting in line to get something as little as a peck from you made his blood boil. “how much money do you have to make today?” he was fishing in his pocket for his wallet before you even answered. “i would like to make at least three hundred dollars.” you watched him curiously as he managed to get some crisp bills out of the expensive leather.

“i’ll do you one better, and give you five hundred dollars to ditch this joint right now.” you blinked, a nervous laugh escaping your lips. “are you serious?” he dropped the money in the jar that you decorated with pink heart-shaped stickers and red rhinestones. “yeah, but i don’t just want a kiss..” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “i’d rather see those pretty, sparkly lips wrapped around my cock instead, yeah?” you felt butterflies flutter in your tummy, your needy gaze meeting his own. “come on, baby.” he took your hand in his, his thumb rubbing into your skin.

swallowing thickly, you glanced over at your bestie. “i can’t leave her to do this all by herself..” just as you were going to apologize and tell him maybe another time, she took the money out of the jar and placed it into an envelope. “i’m gonna go turn this money in to the charity organizers and close up shop, ‘looks like the boys of kildare will have to be kissed by someone else today.” you giggled, motioning for rafe to come inside once your friend left. he wasted no time, locking the wooden door shut as you closed the window, moving the silky red curtain over the glass.

rafe’s hands were palming the soft flesh of your ass in an instant, his large hands shamelessly flipping up your skirt to get a better grip on your skin. despite the small amount of pain he drew from squeezing you so hard, you still moaned blissfully when he took you in a sloppy kiss, his tongue wetting your bottom lip in the process. “you’re so sweet, y’know that? letting me have my way with you like this.” without warning, rafe took ahold of your thighs before hiking you up onto the counter. “i’ve been wanting to know how you taste for so long..” he groaned, both of you moaning as he rubbed you through your panties.

moving your hands to run down his chest, you and rafe shared a look before he slowly peeled back the pink lace. “all i gotta do is chat you up, and you’re already soaked like this?” he laughed incredulously, “fuck, you’re just dying for it.” you couldn’t help but whimper when he gathered the pool of slick between your folds, circling your clit slow and hard before popping his digits into his mouth. “rafe!” you’re shocked but so turned on at the same time, the look of pure disbelief on your face making him smile in amusement. “as much as i’d love to eat this sweet pussy, i need to feel you wrapped around me even more.”

fingertips hooking in the waistband of your panties, rafe slid the material down your legs before placing them in his pocket. “i’m keeping these for later, ‘that alright?” you nodded frantically, spreading your thighs open for him before he stroked your glossy slit. “m’gonna stretch you out just right..” you gasped, your eyebrows knitting together as he slowly inserted his middle finger. “shit, you’re so tight.” he smiled down at you, watching as you struggled to keep your eyes open. “if you think this is a stretch, just wait til’ i have my cock inside of you.”

rafe was knuckle deep at this point, your pretty moans giving him all the encouragement he needed to insert another finger. “oh, god!” your heel clad feet began shaking when his palm met your swollen clit, the pressure making you keen. rafe fisted your ponytail, pulling your head down so you could watch him curl his digits in order to hit that soft, gummy spot inside of you. your top was out of place, your tits threatening to spill out of your bra as rafe used his free hand to keep your chin pointed down. the closer you got to your orgasm, the more you tried to pull away from him, the intensity of your climax already coiling tight in your tummy.

rafe let go of your hair and pinned you down by your hip as he pushed you over the edge, the band in your stomach finally snapping as you came undone. you cried out, your nails raking down his forearm as he hissed at the stinging sensation. “you’re doing so fucking good, holy shit!” he cursed, the sound of your slick juices making your cheeks heat. you shook and writhed beneath him, your heart beating in your ears as you felt the pure unadulterated pleasure wrack through your system. surely, it couldn’t get better than this.. right?

wrong.

rafe wasn’t lying when he said the stretch from his fingers was nothing compared to the stretch of his cock, the tip of his length now kissing your poor cervix with each thrust. “t-too much! rafe, slow down!” he ignored your pleas, instead taking your arms and pinning them to your back so you couldn’t push against his abs anymore. you swore if it wasn’t for him holding your leg up, you would’ve fallen to the ground already. “ah, nah you got it, pretty girl.” he leaned down, pressing kisses to your shoulder. “this is all you, sweetheart, you’re sucking me in like a fucking vice.” he panted.

rafe was close, but he meant what he said earlier— he needed to see you on your knees for him, he needed to see those swollen lips wrapped around his cock just like how he’s imagined for so long. just when rafe felt like he was going to fill up your cunt, he pulled out, quickly pushing you to the floor so he could use your throat instead. you’ve given him complete control, and the power to throw you around as he got you on your knees, kicking your thighs apart so he could see the mess you made between your legs. rafe nearly came when he saw you open your mouth so willingly for him, almost like it was your instinct to take him whole.

taking the hem of his shirt between his teeth, rafe kept the cotton material out of the way as he slid between your lips with ease. you were so warm and so wet, and just so, so, so pretty with your mouth full, he took a breath before tugging at the roots of your hair. “make me fuckin’ cum,” your eyes widened slightly when he whimpered, the sound making you take him even further until your nose was nudging at his base, “oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—” he was done for as soon as you swallowed around him, your eyes watering with tears as you felt the warm ropes of his seed paint your throat.

rafe kept your head in place, his jaw slack as he emptied himself inside of you. it wasn’t until you tapped on his leg that he pulled you off, a strangled gasp leaving your lips as you finally sucked in a breath. he felt dazed, just the same way you did. “damn, sweetheart, should i bribe you more often?” you laughed, accepting the hand he held out for you. standing up on shaky legs, rafe got his shorts on, helping you readjust your clothing shortly after. “you don’t have to bribe me..” despite just doing the most filthiest things you’ve ever done, you still couldn’t help but feel shy underneath the intensity of his stare.

rafe kissed you, taking your hand in his before placing another kiss to your knuckles. “come on,” he poked his head out of the booth to make sure no one was around, “let’s get you back to my place, i need to get my head between those thighs like asap.”

[supernovafics]

𝐃𝐎 𝐌𝐄 𝐀 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.7k words

summary: in which you and steve randomly meet at a bar and realize that you two can help each other out with a similar problem

warnings: explicit language, mentions of alcohol/drinking, mentions of past bad relationships (very recent breakups), smut (18+), oral (f!receiving), protected p in v sex

author’s note: i genuinely can’t believe how long this ended up being lol hope yall enjoy though!<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“We could be the greatest wingwoman and wingman for you right now if you just let us, dingus.”

Steve rolled his eyes at Robin’s words. “I already let you guys drag me to this bar, isn’t that enough?”

Robin responded with a simple, “No, it’s not” before taking another sip of her drink, while Eddie said something about how if this were a year ago, they wouldn’t have had to force Steve to this bar because he would have suggested the idea himself. 

“Monica changed you for the worse, man,” Eddie continued, and Steve only frowned at him. 

Robin gave Eddie’s arm a quick whack. “Hey, we promised no Monica slander tonight. At least not right in front of him.”

Steve gave them both the most unamused look. “You guys really had to make a deal about that? To not talk shit about my ex?”

“Okay, don’t say it like that,” Robin told him. “It would actually be super warranted if we did wanna talk shit about her. She was super pretentious and she hated all of your friends; me and Eddie, especially.”

Steve couldn’t think of a rebuttal to that on the spot, so he ended up saying nothing. And then he reminded himself that Monica had brutally dumped him two weeks ago, so why should he even want to defend her to his best friends anymore?

“There’s seriously not one girl here right now that you could maybe be interested in?” Eddie asked, and Steve was grateful that the conversation was at least slightly shifting away from Monica.

But, he didn’t even take a quick look around the bar before answering Eddie’s question with an immediate “No” and hoping that the subject would change again.

Eddie groaned and then proceeded to finish what was left of his beer, and Robin sighed before saying, “If you at least talked to a random girl here, and just maybe flirted a little bit, don’t you think you’d feel a little less sad about the breakup?”

“I’m not sad about it, though,” Was Steve’s immediate response, and it was only kind of a lie. 

It really wasn’t Monica breaking up with him that made him sad; it was more about him spending almost a year of his life with someone that he knew he probably shouldn’t have been with in the first place because of how incompatible they were. That hard truth was what made him feel sad and a little stupid. Actually, scratch that, a lot stupid. But things with her had become so comfortable and routine that it eventually felt easier staying than leaving. 

Robin simply gave him a look before shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar. Last night I saw you watching that one National Geographic documentary that you only watch when you’re sad. Which I still find kinda weird, but you’re my best friend and I love you and all of your weird coping habits.”

“Wait, which documentary is it again?” Eddie asked, laughing a little. “The one about the whales or the one about the lions?”

“Whales,” Robin answered. “And it's like three hours long.”

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Steve abruptly said before Robin or Eddie could say anything else. 

He left his half-drunk beer with his friends and walked away from the high table they’d been occupying for the past hour and headed toward where the bathrooms were down a random hallway. 

“Don’t try to sneak out the back. We have your location and we will find you,” He heard Robin say from behind him. “And don’t turn it off now that I just mentioned it.”

Steve laughed as he held up his hand, giving her a quick thumbs-up in response. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

There was only so much waiting and hiding you could do, so you decided to ask the first guy that you saw exiting the bathroom. 

“Hey, are the two girls sitting at the end of the right side of the bar looking this way?” 

Surprisingly, this random guy didn’t question why you were asking him that, or why you couldn’t check that yourself, or even question why you were so obviously hiding in this slightly secluded hallway where the terrible bathrooms were. 

Instead, he stepped out of the hallway a little bit and took a peek around the corner for you, and then turned back to you after a second. “Yeah, I see two girls looking this way.”

“Shit.”

“Who are they?”

“My friends.”

The confused look he gave you was immediate. “Why are you trying to avoid your friends?”

You sighed as you leaned back against the wall behind you. “Because they’re trying to convince me that going home with a random guy tonight will help me get over my boyfriend who just broke up with me.”

The laugh he let out in response surprised you. It also made you feel equal parts offended and amused. 

“Is my devastating heartbreak funny to you?”

For the most part, you were exaggerating; your breakup with Elliott hadn’t actually been all too devastating— no outward lying or cheating, just a lot of miscommunications and bad timings— but you kind of wanted this random guy to feel at least a little bad for laughing at you. 

“Shit, no, sorry,” He said, and his cheeks reddened a bit in what you could only assume was embarrassment, and you suddenly felt kind of bad about getting so defensive. “I just laughed because my friends are trying to do the same thing for me, too.” 

“Oh, sorry,” You said, feeling slightly worse now that you knew that you two were in the same boat. “Sorry about your breakup.”

He shrugged like it was fine. “How long have you been standing here hiding from your friends?”

“Five minutes, maybe,” You answered as you pulled out your phone to quickly check the time. Seeing that it was a little after ten thirty let you know that you’d actually been standing here for closer to ten minutes, but you didn’t correct yourself. “My plan is to somehow find an opening to slip out the front door, and then I’ll send them a picture from my Uber telling them that I left.”

“Solid plan.”

“I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”

“Maybe a little bit,” He said, giving you a small smile, and it was then that you were realizing, or finally noticing, that this guy was cute; even in the shitty bar lighting you could tell that. 

Maybe it was because of his sweet smile, or maybe it was the denim jacket he was wearing over a plain white t-shirt that suited him really well. Or maybe it was his hair that looked as if he got out of bed and pushed a quick hand through it and then proceeded to leave his home, and you meant that in the best way possible.

Either way, this guy was really cute and so clearly your type— even though you felt like you were in no place to consider anything romantic with anyone, you could recognize his attractiveness— and you were suddenly being hit with an idea.

“Wait, you said that your friends are trying to set you up with someone here too, right?”

He let out a sigh. “Yeah, they are.”

“And I’m guessing by that sigh that you don’t wanna do that?” You asked, and when he shook his head in answer, you continued. “Okay, I think we maybe can help each other get out of here. This might sound a little insane since we literally don’t know each other at all, but let’s just pretend we really like each other in front of our friends— like, be super flirty and whatever. And then we’ll leave here together, letting them think that we’re gonna…” The thought of saying the word suddenly made you feel awkward, so you didn’t. “Do what they want us to do.”  

After taking a moment to process your sudden idea— you honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if the guy said no because it was pretty weird— he nodded. “That’s actually a really great idea.” 

“Thank you. I’m known for my great ideas, actually,” You said, smiling at him as you reached out to grab his hand and intertwine it with yours. 

If the thought of saying that you and this stranger were gonna have sex made you feel awkward, then abruptly holding his hand should’ve felt weird too, but surprisingly it didn’t. “Alright, let’s just act like we’re super into each other, I guess.” 

“I’m Steve, by the way,” He told you. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably important information to know,” You said and then proceeded to tell him your name too. 

You led the way to your friends and the small corner of the bar where they were lingering by. 

“Hey, guys, this is Steve,” You said and slapped on the happiest smile you could muster at the moment. 

“Steve,” Danielle was the first one to say something after noticing your and Steve’s interlocked hands. “What’s your last name?”

“Harrington.”

And then Amy was jumping in. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.” 

“What do you do?”

“I work at the record store down the street.”

“So, you’re a music guy?”

“Not really, I guess. My friend got me a job there.” 

You decided to stop the interrogation before Steve got scared away by this back and forth questioning Danielle and Amy were doing. “Okay, okay, that’s enough of the interview. His friends are gonna think he ditched them or something.”

“You guys should come over to the table we’re at,” Steve said and then pointed in the direction of where his friends were with his free hand. “There’s enough room.”

You nodded at his words. “That’s a great idea.” 

If Danielle or Amy were aware of this act you were putting on— how you were no longer rejecting their idea of you flirting with some guy to “get over” Elliott— they didn’t call you out on it. Instead, they agreed that going to the table with Steve’s friends was a good idea. 

Quick introductions were made, and then the group settled into typical small talk. However, you and Steve deliberately fell into your own kind of “flirty conversation” and played it up for your friends, all of whom tried to pretend that they weren’t intensely watching you two, but they failed miserably at hiding their staring, which was exactly what you both wanted. 

After a few minutes of exaggerated smiles and elated laughs, Steve leaned in close to your ear. “How long do you think we’re gonna have to do this?”

You softly giggled like he just whispered the sweetest thing to you and then leaned into his ear. “Follow my lead.”

You pulled back and then shifted so that you were standing closer to him, and he quickly took the hint and wrapped his arm around you. 

“Hey,” You said, grabbing the attention of your friends and his, which was easy because they had already been half-listening to you and Steve anyway. “We’re gonna head out of here, so we’ll see you guys later.”

There was a mix of confused and surprised looks that crossed all over their faces for the briefest moment, and then Amy was the one to first say something. “Really?”

“Yeah,” You nodded. “I want to take Steve to my place to show him something.”

“Since I’ve never seen the second Home Alone movie, we’re gonna watch that,” Steve added. Out of all of the movies he could’ve said, you weren’t sure why he was mentioning a Christmas one in September, but sure, you’d play along. 

“You’re gonna watch a movie?” Robin asked, somehow looking both skeptical and amused. 

Steve nodded. “Yeah.”

“Yup,” You agreed as you reached up to lace your fingers with his hand that was around your shoulders and used that to push yourself even closer to him. 

“Okay,” Eddie said, failing to bite back his grin. “Have fun watching a movie.”

“We will,” Steve told him and gave your hand a light squeeze. 

“I’ll text you guys later,” You said to Danielle and Amy, who were looking at you with equally surprised but happy looks. After so many years of friendship, it was pretty easy to read each other, but you hoped that they couldn’t see through what you were doing; you hoped you were faking all of this well enough.

Neither of them said anything, though, and they instead nodded and said different versions of “We’ll talk to you in the morning,” which let you know that they were just happy that you were actually following through with what they wanted you to do tonight. 

Steve pulled his arm from around you and just went to normally holding your hand, and you two said final goodbyes to your friends and then headed away from the table. You two stayed practically attached at the hip until you were out of the door. The cold hit you immediately, but it wasn’t too unbearable with your jacket on, although you still wished that you had opted for a better dress. You gave Steve a quick look as the bar door closed behind you both.   

“Nice idea with the movie thing, even though Home Alone 2 is so random,” You said with a laugh. “They all definitely think we’re about to go have sex in my apartment.”

“I’ve kinda used that movie line before,” Steve said. “It’s been a while, but Robin and Eddie still know what it means.” 

You gave him an amused smile. “Okay, so Home Alone 2 is code for ‘I’m about to go hook up with this random girl’?”

“No, I don’t use the same movie every time,” He laughed a little. “That one was just the first thing that came to my mind this time.”

You nodded as you slipped your hand from his and you reached into the pocket of your jacket to pull out your phone. You opened the Uber app and ordered a car so that you could finally go home. 

“So, what are your plans for the rest of the night?” Steve asked as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. 

“Head home and probably finish the bottle of wine that I had been drinking before my friends dragged me here, and then call my ex and leave very stupid voicemails.”

You didn’t mean to be so honest— if your friends had asked you that question, you would’ve lied and avoided any and all mentions of Elliott because you wanted to make it seem like you were dealing with the breakup just fine— but talking to Steve made you want to be truthful for some reason; maybe because you two were going through the same thing. 

“That doesn’t sound like the best idea.”

“It’s not,” You agreed, but didn’t say that you wouldn’t still be following through with it. 

Things became quiet as you two stood on this sidewalk, not at all as close as you two were when you were trying to play things up in front of your friends. There was actual space between you two for the first time in the last ten minutes, and you weren’t looking at him anymore, instead, you were focused on the quiet street. The faint sounds of all the noise coming from inside the bar managed to fill the silence, and you wondered if this was the part where you two were supposed to go your separate ways. Now that you helped each other get what you both wanted, what else was there to say or do? 

You were about to mumble something along the lines of “Thanks for your help tonight,” but Steve was speaking before you could. “My ex texted me earlier.”

Weirdly enough, you actually felt a little relieved that he was keeping the conversation going. You honestly didn’t mind talking to him. There was something about this entire conversation that felt so simple and easy, even though you were talking about kind of shitty things. 

You looked at him. “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“My friends would say bad. And a part of me knows it’s bad too, but I don’t know,” He shrugged. “It’s kinda tempting.”

You understood what he meant completely, but you still gave him advice that you probably wouldn’t have taken for yourself. “Okay, well, if my opinion matters at all in this, which I know it probably doesn’t, you shouldn’t text her back.”

“And then, in that case, you shouldn’t drunk call your ex,” He reminded you. 

“Why did you two break up?” You asked instead of outwardly agreeing with his words. 

“She did it two weeks ago over the phone,” Steve told you. “She said that things were feeling “off” between us and maybe they always had been.”

“Ouch,” That word felt like an understatement to represent just how shitty breaking up with someone over a phone call was, but it was all you could manage to say right then. 

He gave you a quick nod, breaking your gaze for a second, and then he threw the question your way. “What about you?”

“He wanted to move to California, and I wanted to stay here,” You answered. That was the short version of it; the easy version of it. 

“Okay, that sounds pretty amicable,” Steve responded. 

You almost simply agreed with him just to let this part of the conversation end, but it didn't feel right doing that. For reasons you couldn’t fully recognize just yet, you didn’t want to lie to Steve. 

“It wasn’t,” You admitted softly. “The moving thing came up months ago, and if we were smart, we would’ve just ended things then, but we didn’t. I told him I didn’t want to move, and he said that was fine, but it definitely wasn’t fine. He started pulling away and being a dick, and we both became really shitty toward each other by the end of it until he finally broke up with me and then moved like he wanted to.”

“Okay, nevermind. That sounds like it sucked.”

“And yours seems pretty bad too,” You said. “Doing it over the phone is such a fucked move. Did you see it coming?”

“No, but also yes, which probably doesn’t even make sense,” He answered, and in your eyes, it did make sense, but you didn’t interrupt him to tell him that. “There was something that always felt “off” about us, but in the moment, it never seemed like that big of a deal. Looking back now, though, it’s so obvious that we were never gonna work, and I guess it’s kinda good that she ended it.”

“But, she texted you today,” You reminded him. 

“Yeah,” He said and then sighed. 

“I still don’t think you should say anything back to her,” You told him. “Now, after hearing that she broke up with you over the phone, she definitely doesn’t deserve a text back.”

“If you don’t call your ex tonight, I won’t text mine back,” Steve said, giving you a look that you couldn’t fully decipher, but you were still nodding at his words. 

“Deal,” You said and then held out your hand for him to shake— because it felt like the obvious thing to do, even if the “deal” you two were making was a playful one— and he did. You didn’t understand how his hand was still warm after being out in the cold for the past few minutes, but it was nice all the same. 

As if on cue, a car pulled up in front of the bar with the all too familiar Uber sticker in its windshield. You looked at it for a quick second and then at your phone to make sure it was the right car. And then after that confirmation, you looked at Steve. 

“You coming?”

The confused look he gave you was immediate. “You want me to?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Yeah, how else are we gonna make sure we both follow through with the deal we just made?”

“Makes sense,” Steve said, nodding back with a small, amused smile on his face, and then he followed you to the car. 

You two sat on opposite ends in the backseat, and it was probably the first time all night that the silence between you two felt a little awkward.  

“Can I read the text she sent you?” You asked, halfway through the ten-minute ride. “Sorry, if that’s weird, I don’t know why I’m so curious.” 

“Not weird,” Steve told you as he tapped on his phone for a second and then handed it over to you. 

You took a brief look at the previous messages sent between them, which was a lot of simple stuff, and then you focused on the most recent one. 

I’ve been thinking about you a lot today. Maybe we can meet up soon and talk? Let me know when you’re free. 

It was hard not to roll your eyes at the message. It felt almost too painstakingly equivalent to something Elliott had said to you the day he moved out of your apartment. His one final attempt to get you to change your mind and move to California with him, as if all the damage to your relationship hadn’t already been done. 

You were about to hand Steve his phone back, but then you noticed something. 

“Steve,” You said, looking at him in the darkness of the car. “Why is there still a heart by her name?”

“I haven’t gotten around to changing it yet,” He answered, which didn’t sound like the best excuse to you because you thought about how promptly you had changed Elliott’s contact name to “Asshole” once he left the apartment for the final time. 

“Alright, let me do the honors for you,” You said as you deleted the red heart and then Monica’s name entirely and simply put “EX.” “Okay, here you go.”

You handed the phone back to him, and he looked at what you did and then laughed a little. “I don’t know why I thought you were gonna make it something a lot meaner.”

“It was tempting,” You started. “But, I don’t know her, so I don’t know what mean stuff would’ve been the most fitting.”

Steve nodded as he slipped his phone back in his pocket. “What’s your ex’s name?”

“Asshole in my contacts and Elliott in real life,” You answered and Steve laughed again and then said a quick, “Got it.”

You made it to your apartment building five minutes later and it took another five minutes, due to very shitty elevators, to make it to your actual apartment.  

“Welcome to my place,” You said to Steve as you flicked on the light and then pulled off your jacket and hung it on one of the hooks by the front door, and slipped off your shoes. 

“Did you just move in?” Steve asked, following suit and doing the same with his jacket, and then toeing off his shoes by the door as well. 

The half-emptiness of your apartment didn’t really faze you anymore, but you understood how unfinished the place looked to someone who was seeing it for the first time. 

“Oh, no, I’ve been here for almost three years now. When Elliott moved out, he took a lot of things, so it looks a little weird and half-decorated now,” You quickly explained, hoping that you successfully masked the sudden awkwardness in your voice because you now felt the tiniest bit embarrassed that you brought him here. “I’m still working on getting a new TV, so for now we can just watch something on my laptop if you want.”

Before Steve could say anything in response, you grabbed your laptop from where it sat on the small coffee table in your living room and then handed it over to him. “I’ll be right back; I need to get out of this dress. But you can put on whatever you want.” 

“Okay,” You heard him say as you headed toward your bedroom. 

It didn’t hit you how sort of insane this entire situation was until you closed your bedroom door behind you, and you were left alone for the first time since you met Steve near the bar bathrooms. Now, logical thinking was kicking in, and you considered just how much of a bad idea all of this was. 

There was a guy who you barely knew in your apartment, and you had no plans on having sex with him, so this wouldn’t end up being a one-night stand kind of thing. So, what would happen instead? You two would simply talk and genuinely watch a movie, and then what?

Although you had no idea what the answer to that question was, it actually didn’t completely scare you. Because yes, this was kind of an odd set of circumstances, but you and Steve were going through the same thing, and that somehow made everything feel different. You weren’t nervous around him, and you hadn’t been all night; instead, things had felt weirdly easy, you realized. And you decided to keep leaning into that easy feeling and not overthink whatever this was or would be.  

You slipped out of your dress and put on what was probably the most comfortable pair of pajama pants you owned and a simple t-shirt. When you stepped out of your bedroom and headed back into the living room, you saw Steve sitting on the couch, and a small, slightly amused smile tugged at your lips as you noticed what was playing on your laptop, which was opened up and back on the coffee table.

“Okay, I definitely didn’t expect you to put on a nature documentary,” You said as you sat down next to him, leaving a fair amount of space between you two. “I don’t know why I thought you’d put on something super boyish. Like, Die Hard or one of the million Fast and Furious movies.”

“Oh, I was planning on putting on Die Hard after this,” He said, and you immediately took notice of the playful tilt in his voice.

“An ocean documentary and Die Hard sounds like a solid double feature,” You joked back with a smile, and Steve laughed in response and then proceeded to tell you that this documentary was specifically about whales. 

A comfortable silence began to linger as you grabbed the throw blanket that was folded on the back of the couch and spread it over your lap and then offered some of it to Steve, which he accepted— it was long enough to fit you both comfortably even though you weren’t right next to each other. And then you focused on the documentary and the Australian narrator talking about the vastness of the ocean. 

“We can watch something else if you want,” Steve abruptly said about five minutes in. His words slightly surprised you because you had actually been finding the documentary pretty interesting so far and you hadn’t done anything to show otherwise. “My friends always hate when I put this on.”

You looked away from the laptop screen and at him. “How often do you watch this?”

“Whenever I’m not feeling great,” He answered, turning a little to look at you too. “Like, sick or sad.”

“Okay, and with your breakup, I guess this has been on repeat these past two weeks?” You asked, and the nod he gave you in response made you think that he was embarrassed by that answer, and you immediately wanted to make him not feel that way. “My personal sad go-to has been putting on this one reality show where people do dumb obstacle courses to win money. There’s like twenty seasons of that show and I’m halfway through it.”

“That’s what we should actually watch after this,” Steve said, giving you a playful smile. 

“Yeah, and we can wallow in our collective sadness,” You nodded in agreement, which made him laugh. “And this will probably sound weird or just not even make sense, but I’m not even sad about me and him breaking up, because I know that it definitely needed to happen. I’m sad about basically wasting the last two years of my life with someone who didn’t end up being “the one” or whatever. Thinking about that feels so much worse than the breakup itself.”

Steve gave you a look that you couldn’t decipher at all. It was probably the first time all night that you felt slightly self-conscious under his gaze. You got the urge to look away from him and focus back on the whales on screen, but you didn’t. 

Instead, your eyebrows furrowed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sorry, it’s just, I feel the exact same way pretty much,” He told you. “I’m not really that sad that Monica broke up with me, I just feel really stupid that we were even together in the first place. She didn’t really like my friends and would always make fun of my job.”

“Didn’t you say you work at a record store? What is there to make fun of about that?” 

“She would say a lot of stuff about how ‘it’s a job that’s going nowhere,’ but then play it off like she was just joking.” 

You were unable to hold back your grimace. “Wow, that sounds terrible.”

You noticed the embarrassed look cross his face and you felt the immediate need to change it.  

“Sorry, sorry, I’m not judging,” You quickly told him. “Elliott called me a lot of mean things by the end, and I still stayed with him, so I know all about making dumb decisions in a relationship.”

Steve frowned at your words. “How mean?”

“So mean that you’re actually the first person I’ve even mentioned that to. It still feels way too embarrassing to bring it up to my friends,” You admitted, and it was then that you had to finally look away from him. “I don’t really get why it’s so easy to talk to you.”

“Probably because we’re basically strangers,” Steve said, and after considering his words for a second, you nodded. “And fuck him, by the way, for whatever mean shit he said to you. That sounds pretty terrible too.”

“That’s why I wanted to call him tonight and leave equally as mean drunk voicemails, but you talked me out of it,” You said, finally meeting Steve’s eyes again. “You’re right, though, it would’ve been stupid to do that.”

Steve shook his head. “Oh, when you said that, I thought you meant that you wanted to leave the sappy kind of drunk voicemails where you talk about wanting to get back with him or something.” 

“Oh, no way. I was just gonna list off a bunch of bad things about him,” You responded. “Like, the kinds of things that when you’re dating the person, it just seems like a little quirk or bad habit that you can overlook, but in hindsight you’re like, why did I put up with any of that, y’know?”

Steve nodded understandingly. “Can I hear the list?” 

“You sure you wanna hear me rant about my ex?” You asked him with an amused smile, and Steve laughed a little and nodded again. “Okay, he would always forget to turn off stuff before he left the apartment; the TV, lights, anything really. He never did the dishes and would always get a little annoyed when I asked him to do it. Oh, and he hated whenever I would beat him at any kind of games.” 

“That’s a very solid list.”

“Also, he,” You started and then immediately cut yourself off, realizing that maybe you should have at least somewhat of a filter. “Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

Steve gave you a look. “Wait, now you have to say it.”

“He never…” You looked away from Steve’s curious gaze and instead focused on the blanket draped over your lap. You pulled at a random loose string as you said your next words. “He never went down on me.”

“Really?” He asked, and you simply nodded because it suddenly felt too hard to form words right then. “You were together for almost two years, and he didn’t do it once?”

You nodded again and then finally found your voice. “He said he wasn’t a “fan” of it. Meanwhile, he loved when I gave him a blowjob.” 

It was pretty obvious that your filter was completely gone at this point; if it had ever even really been there in the first place when it came to Steve. 

“Wow.”

You tilted your head at him. “I can’t tell what that wow means.”

“It means that he’s an idiot and you should’ve been the one dumping him, not the other way around, and also, once again, he’s definitely an idiot.”

You laughed a little. “Woah, who knew one word could mean so much?”

“Yeah, it has a ton of connotations to it,” Steve joked, smiling at you. 

You both went back to watching the documentary on your laptop, but there was something about this part of the conversation that didn’t feel over yet. You didn’t feel like you could just go back to watching this whale documentary as if you hadn’t just admitted the most embarrassing thing about your sex life.  

“Um, what about you, though?” You asked, and Steve looked at you again, a confused furrow to his eyebrows like he didn’t fully get what you meant by the question, so you elaborated. “What was shitty about your sex life?”

Steve was quiet at first, and for a second, you thought that maybe for the first time that night, you two had reached a question that was “too much,” or worse, there had been nothing bad about his sex life with his ex, so he had no answer to give you.  

“Um, she always wanted to do the same thing,” Steve finally answered after what felt like the longest stint of silence ever, and you were completely confused by that response. 

“What do you mean?”

“She only wanted to do missionary. Nothing else,” He explained. “And I know that it’s a classic, I get that completely, and it definitely is. But sometimes you just wanna change things up, y’know?”

You nodded instead of outwardly saying anything because you didn’t want to admit that aside from the lack of oral, your sex life with Elliott had been pretty good. 

“So, almost a year of just missionary?” You asked, and Steve gave you a nod that seemed equivalent to the one you’d given him when it was you answering this kind of question. “What would you do if you could choose?”

You noticed his cheeks turning the tiniest hint of pink as he considered the question. “Oh, um, girl on top, I think. That one’s pretty good.” 

You weren’t sure why you expected him to say something a little crazier, but you didn’t tell him that. 

“Good choice,” Was what you said instead. 

There was another lull in the conversation, and maybe that was where it should’ve finally ended, but there was something about it that still didn’t feel entirely over just yet. 

“I could—”

“We could—”

Your and Steve’s suddenly spoken words stumbled over each other and made you both stop abruptly.  

“What were you gonna say?” He asked.

You shook your head. “You can go first.”

“No, no, I’m a gentleman,” Steve told you, a small smile on his face. “So, ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes at him, but there was nothing serious behind it. “I was gonna say that maybe we could… Maybe we could help each other out. Like, show one another what the other was ‘missing out on’ while they were in their relationship.” You then rushed out your next words before Steve could respond to your previous ones. “What were you gonna say?”

“I was gonna say that I could do what your ex didn’t want to do for you.”

“Just me?” You asked, and he nodded. “Well, it wouldn’t be fair if you got nothing out of this.”

Steve gave you a quick shrug. “I wasn’t really thinking about me.”

You teasingly smiled at him. “Wow, you truly are a gentleman.”

He laughed. “I told you.”

“If we did actually do this, though,” You started. “I would also wanna do your thing too.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah. If you go down on me, I’ll happily ride you.” 

Finally outwardly saying the words made you laugh a little; you couldn’t help it. None of what was happening right then felt exactly weird, but it was definitely… surprising.  

“This is such an insane conversation,” Steve responded, laughing too. 

“Oh, yeah, it definitely is,” You said, looking away from him and focusing back on your laptop screen for a second. “We could just go back to watching the documentary and pretend this never happened.”

“Is that what you wanna do?”

“Not really, no,” You admitted. Logically, your answer probably should’ve been the opposite, but you honestly couldn’t imagine saying yes to his previous question and actually pretending that this conversation hadn’t happened. “Do you?”

Steve shook his head. “No.”

“Okay, so it’s settled then. Should we shake on this too?” You asked, mainly joking with your words. 

“Yes, definitely,” He said, playing along. “That’s the only way it will be real.”

You scooted a little closer to him, closing most of the space between you two on the couch, and then held out your hand. “So, deal?”

He grabbed your outstretched hand and shook it. “Deal.”

This was the second handshake shared between you two, but this one felt charged with something different than the one outside the bar. 

Steve’s hand was warm against yours, and you were also noticing how soft it was too. Your eyes stayed on his, and even though you didn’t really know him that well, if at all, you still felt as if you somehow understood what was going on in his head because it matched exactly what was happening in yours. 

With your hands still linked together, he pulled you closer, and then let go at the last second to find your cheek and slot his lips against yours. It was messy at first, a sudden clash of tongues and teeth, but it also felt really good, and it took only a second for you two to find your collective rhythm.  

Steve was a great kisser, which surprised you because first kisses with people were never this good, and they definitely never felt this right. There were always some sort of growing pains as you navigated what to do and figured out what the other wanted, but that somehow wasn’t the case for you and Steve. 

You definitely didn’t expect your first post-Elliott kiss to be damn near perfect, and you decided not to think too much about what exactly it meant that it was happening with Steve; a guy you’d barely known for two hours. 

“You’re really good at this,” You mumbled against his lips. 

“What? Kissing?” He whispered back in between each one. 

“Yeah.”

Steve pulled back to look at you, a small, amused smile playing on his lips. “Thanks. You’re really good too.”

You suddenly started feeling shy under his gaze, so you quickly leaned back in to get him to stop looking at you so sweetly. His hand still holding your cheek kept you steady and further warmed your already burning skin, and you let out the softest sound against his mouth when his free hand slipped beneath your shirt and found your waist, giving the bare skin a quick squeeze. 

You wanted to move out of this awkward side-by-side position and sit in his lap, but you also wanted to get off the couch completely, so you abruptly pulled away from him and stood up. Wordlessly, your hand found Steve’s again, and you led him to your bedroom. 

The second the door was closed behind you both, Steve’s mouth eagerly found yours again, which made you smile into the kiss, as he walked you back toward the bed. The second the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed, he gently pushed you down on top of it.  

Before he could even ask or say anything, you were pulling your t-shirt off and tossing it somewhere to the side, and then doing the same with your pajama pants. The look he gave you as you now lay on your bed, half naked with only your bra and underwear on, made something stir in your stomach. 

“You okay up there?” You asked after a moment, making your voice light and playful, and also trying to push away the feelings that were starting to make a home in your stomach. 

“Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… Fuck,” He let out a breath. “You’re really pretty.”

You had to turn your head and look away from him then, but you still couldn’t help but smile at his words as your cheek pressed into the blanket. 

This was just supposed to be another case of two people helping each other out. This wasn’t supposed to be so sweet and nice and serious, right? You weren’t sure, but you could inwardly admit that you liked hearing him call you pretty. 

You still weren’t looking, but you could feel Steve settle on top of you and lean in to press his lips to your exposed neck, making you let out a quiet moan. 

He sucked on your skin, a sensitive spot on the underside of your jaw that had you mewling for him, as his hand moved down toward your cunt. He pulled your underwear to the side and slowly pressed his middle finger into your slick folds. 

“Shit,” He mumbled against your neck. “You’re soaked.”

You let out a soft breath. “Like I said, you’re really good at this.”

He pulled away from your clit and out of your wetness completely and you let out a whine in protest, but then his fingers were hooking into the waistband of your underwear and dragging them down your legs. Your bra was next, and you sat up a bit so that he could unhook it and toss it to the side. 

“Fuck,” Steve said, leaning back to simply just look at you for a moment. “You look so perfect for me.”

You were completely naked now, and he was still fully clothed, but you didn’t even feel shy under his lust-filled gaze because you really liked the way he was looking at you in this moment.

Before you could make any move to grab at the ends of his t-shirt to at least pull that off of him, his mouth was on you once again, pressing a quick kiss to your lips and then moving to your neck and continuing lower and lower. 

Your eyes slipped shut, and you let out the softest sounds as he slowly trailed down your stomach and went to your hips and then to your inner thighs, teasingly pressing his mouth against your warm skin at every spot. You felt his hands hook around your thighs and pull you closer to him. 

“Hey,” Steve said to grab your attention, and your eyes met his. Looking at him with his head between your legs and his mouth so close to where you needed him to be was probably the hottest thing you’d ever seen. “Tell me if you want me to do anything differently, okay?”

You nodded before softly saying, “Okay.”

Your head fell back against the bed when his tongue ran a long slow stripe up your slit. He stopped at your clit, circling the bundle of nerves before latching his lips around it and giving it a quick suck. The gasp in pleasure and surprise you let out in response was immediate. 

After one too many rejections from Elliott, you told yourself that you didn’t like oral anyway, always reminding yourself of other times with past partners when it had been rushed and sloppy. But now you knew just how much you’d been lying to yourself because this felt fucking phenomenal. Steve’s mouth felt perfect on you, and there was nothing about this moment that felt rushed or half-baked, like he was just trying to quickly get to the next thing. 

He slipped two fingers inside of you, pushing in as deep as he could go and his mouth went to your clit again. Your fingers threaded through his hair as he lapped at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Steve could tell just how much you were enjoying yourself with every tug on his hair and the contented sounds you were making above him. 

His hand still on your thigh squeezed roughly as he started to suck hard on your clit, which pushed you closer and closer to the edge. It should’ve maybe felt a little embarrassing— how quickly he was about to make you come only from his mouth and fingers— but everything just felt so fucking good that you didn’t care how fast he was making the tight knot in your stomach feel as if it was going to explode. 

“Steve, I- I’m gonna… Fuck,” You trailed off with a loud moan. Words were alluding in this moment as Steve continued his ministrations against your dripping cunt; his mouth on the most sensitive part of you and his fingers deep inside you, curling against an almost too perfect spot.  

Your own fingers pulled a little harder at his dark locks, which made him moan against your clit and the vibrations from that abruptly sent you over the edge. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” The words fell from your lips in a sort of whispered chant as your back arched sharply off the bed and you saw stars behind your eyes. 

Steve continued exactly what he was doing as you came, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. He happily took and lapped at everything you gave him, absolutely loving the taste of you on his tongue. He continued to finger you and eat you out through your orgasm until he felt you become too overstimulated. 

“Fuck,” You squeaked out when his tongue did one final teasing lick against the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Fuck, that was really good.”

Steve pulled away, and he sat up a little, smiling as he watched you come down from your high. “I’m sorry you’ve had to miss out on that for the past two years.”

You let out a breath of a laugh. “Thank you for the condolences.” 

Your heart rate slowly returned to normal, and you turned to Steve, who was now sitting next to you, and you took notice of the obvious tint in his jeans. 

You reached out to palm his hard length. “Girl on top is what you wanted, right?”

He let out a low groan. “Mhm, yeah, but only if you want to do that.”

“Steve,” You said so his eyes would meet yours, and then you proceeded to give him the reassurance that it seemed so clear that he needed. “I really want to do that for you.”

He looked at you so sweetly, and this time you didn’t look away, you simply just smiled back at him as you crawled into his lap. 

Your fingers immediately grabbed the ends of his t-shirt to pull it up and off of him. “Let’s make things even, yeah?”

He nodded, and you shifted back a bit so that you could work on the button of his jeans. You then lifted your hips so that he could push his jeans and boxers down his legs and off him completely. 

Your eyes became glued to his hard cock. You didn’t really know what you were expecting, but he was huge and you could feel yourself becoming wetter at the thought of him filling you up. 

“You have such a pretty cock, Steve,” You whispered as you wrapped a hand around him and brushed your thumb over his slick tip. He groaned in pleasure, and one of his hands immediately found your hip in response, squeezing the bare skin. 

A part of you wanted him to be rougher; you honestly didn’t mind the thought of finding Steve-shaped bruises on your skin in the morning. However, you didn’t tell him that because this moment wasn’t about you.  

“Does that feel good?” You asked instead, voice soft and gentle, as if you couldn’t tell the answer to your question just by all the sounds Steve was making and by the way he was twitching in your hand. 

“Perfect,” He groaned out, eyes meeting yours just for a second before he was looking down and watching as you kept slowly stroking him from base to tip. “Fucking perfect.”

You smiled and wondered if this was how he felt when the roles were reversed and you were the one who was a mess below him. 

“Shit, I need,” Steve let out a strangled breath and his head fell back against the headboard with a soft thud. “Really need to be inside of you.”

You nodded, even though he wasn’t looking at you, and let go of him to reach over and grab a condom from your nightstand drawer.  

Steve watched as you tore open the foil packet and slipped the condom on his cock; it was probably one of the hottest things he’d ever seen. 

“Do you want me to turn around and take it that way, or like, how do you want this?” You asked, meeting his half lidded eyes as you went back to stroking his cock. After what he’d just done for you, you wanted this to be perfect for him. 

“No, I wanna see you,” He said, free hand coming up to gently stroke your cheek. 

You could feel your skin warm under his touch; somehow, that felt like the most intimate thing he’d done to you so far tonight. You nodded at his words instead of saying anything because you were pretty certain your words would’ve failed you anyway. 

You lifted your hips so that you could line him up with your slick entrance and then your eyes met his as you slowly lowered yourself onto him, completely taking his cock inside of you. 

Your and Steve’s collective moans filled the quiet air, and you were the one to break eye contact with him because your eyes were pinching shut. 

Both of his hands shot to your hips to keep you from moving, which was good because you needed a moment to adjust to the feeling of being so full of him.  

“Shit, I’m gonna fucking explode if you move right now,” Steve mumbled, looking down at how well you were taking him. 

“That’s okay,” You told him softly. Your hands rested on his shoulders for a quick moment, and then they tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. 

He let out a chuckle and met your gaze. “I want this to last more than two seconds.” One of his hands came up to find your breast. “And I also want you to come with me.”

You hummed at the feeling of his fingers squeezing your already hard nipple. “Still such a gentleman.”

Steve laughed again, and that sound turned into a low groan when you lifted your hips ever so slightly and then sank back down onto him. 

“God, you feel so good,” He rambled out. “Taking me so fucking well.”

His words sent a jolt of pleasure through your body. “‘M so full.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked teasingly, and you simply nodded, words failing you the moment he pushed up into you. 

Whatever control you had was lost. You were technically riding him, but he was doing most of the work, and it seemed as if that was exactly what he wanted. He had a near-bruising grip on your hips as he guided your movements and hit all of the right places with each thrust. 

Your face became buried in his neck when it all felt like too much. “Fuck, I’m so close.” 

Your words were whispered against his soft skin, and you could feel his nod in response. “Yeah, me too.”

He slipped a hand between your bodies so that he could find your clit and you sucked in a breath when his thumb started circling it.

“I wanna see you,” He groaned when he felt you clench around his cock, and at first all you could do was hum against his skin in response. “I wanna see you come for me.”

You pulled back and met his gaze, hands finding his bare shoulders to keep you steady. It was harder to do than you expected because of how much you wanted to let your eyes slip shut and simply just take everything Steve was giving you. 

“Hi,” You softly said to him instead of closing your eyes or letting your head fall back in pleasure due to his teasing strokes against your clit. 

“Hi,” He gave you a smile that made your stomach flutter and his hand on your hip pulled you harder against his cock. “You gonna come for me?”

You could only moan in response and give him a meek nod, forcing your eyes to stay on his. The knot in your stomach was tightening and tightening, almost ready to completely unravel. 

“Go ahead,” He said as he thrusted up into you. “Let go.”

“Ah,” You dug your nails into his shoulders the second your orgasm hit you. He looked at you so fondly, like he truly cared about making you feel good, and that only made you come harder, walls fluttering around his cock. 

You once again buried your face in the crook of his neck, sucking the skin and leaving red marks that would be there later. You landed on what you would later realize was an especially sensitive spot on his neck because the second your tongue grazed over it, Steve was letting out a loud moan and spilling into the condom. 

“Fuck,” He muttered as he came and his hands squeezed your hips to keep you firmly planted on his cock. 

You pulled away from his neck to watch him come apart beneath you. It was probably the prettiest thing you'd ever seen— his blown-out pupils, his mouth slightly parted in a moan, and a few locks of his messy hair falling against his forehead. 

Your and his movements slowed as you both came down from your highs. With his hands still on you, he shifted things so that you two were lying sideways on the bed. His softening cock slipped out of you in the process and you couldn’t help but quietly whine at the feeling. 

You two became a tangle of limbs and warm bodies, and your arms circled around his neck to push yourself even closer to him. 

“Was that good for you?” You asked, soft words hitting right against his ear. “You did like all of the work when it should’ve been the opposite.” 

His fingers began mindlessly stroking the bare skin of your back. “No, that was really good.” 

“Mm,” You hummed in response. “Okay, but it does slightly feel like I ended up getting a better outcome to the deal than you.” 

Steve let out a laugh at your playful words as he pulled away from you, and it took a lot of willpower to not protest his actions and keep him close to you. He pointed at a door, silently asking if that was where the bathroom was, and you nodded in response and he headed in.

You got up from your bed and started picking up the clothes that had been haphazardly thrown around the room. You slipped on your t-shirt and underwear, and when Steve emerged from the bathroom, you handed him his shirt and boxers.

It almost felt a little comical remembering that when you first let Steve into your apartment, you inwardly told yourself that you weren’t gonna have sex with him, and this wouldn’t turn into a one-night stand type of situation. 

And now here you two were. 

However, weirdly enough, the thought of this moment following the typical one-night stand rules— Steve leaving right now and you two never seeing each other again— didn’t sit right with you. 

“Have you really not seen Home Alone 2 before?” You asked Steve as he finished slipping on his t-shirt. The talk of that movie had been such a minor moment in the conversation at the bar earlier, but still, you remembered him mentioning it. 

“No, I haven’t,” He answered. 

“Me neither, actually,” You told him. Christmas movies had never really been your favorites. “Do you maybe wanna watch it now?”

You knew what your words meant— that you didn’t want him to leave yet, that you wanted him to stay a little longer— and he understood that too. 

He gave you a small smile and nodded. “Okay. And this is probably the best time to also admit that I’ve never seen the first one either.”

You let out a laugh as you headed into your living room, where your laptop was still playing the documentary from earlier, and Steve followed right behind you. “Okay, double feature it is, then.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know your thoughts<333

[kyeomofhearts]

Bed Wars | J.WW

+ summary: after spending countless hours building a house for your boyfriend... you're suddenly met with his bed placed right next to yours? what the hell man! + pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader + word count: 800~ + content: fluff, established relationship, they're just playing minecraft lol, reader likes to bicker.

[ᝰ.ᐟ] happy valentine's day!!! thought i would post something small to celebrate since i didn't post for last year's valentine's day. also i would like to (unfortunately) thank @cherry-zip for bullying me into posting this on time! hope you enjoy, thanks for reading! <3 (borders made by @enchanthings !)

"C’mon dude,” you groaned, staring at the sight in front of you. “I made you a house for a reason!”

Wonwoo’s response? Moving his bed right next to yours. 

“Well, I want to sleep here,” he stated simply.

You let out an annoyed sigh, arms crossed. “Like, seriously? The colors don’t even match!”

Wonwoo only giggled, enjoying your frustration with him. “What are you talking about? My purple bed goes perfectly with your pink one. Also, what if a creeper spawns in my house—how will you ever hear my cries for help?”

Your eye twitched at his insistence. God, he was so annoying. “Now, why would a creeper spawn in your house?” 

“You never know, I’ve seen it happen before.” 

“Fine. I’ll move out then,” you said, quickly destroying your bed and leaving the house. You weren’t even bothered enough to take anything from your chests.

The two of you continued playing in silence for a few minutes. It’s not like you were actually mad or anything… but it was fun to start a meaningless fight with Wonwoo. 

In the meantime, you explored the surrounding biomes in hopes of finding a suitable place to make a new house. Well, more like a camp. (Your house was way too pretty for you to simply abandon.)

After a few more minutes of silence, Wonwoo began to message you in the game.

[gam3bo1: where are you :(]

[gam3bo1: i miss youuuuu]

[gam3bo1: answer me!]

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, turning to look at you from his monitor, eyes filled with faux innocence.

You scoffed. “Oh, no. Not at all. I just love how you’re completely ignoring the fact that I built a whole house for you, and yet, you insist on staying in my house!”

Wonwoo let out a dramatic sigh. “Well, it's not my fault my house feels so… lonely.” 

You rolled your eyes as he spoke, but he didn’t stop there. Who would’ve known that he was going to be this pouty.

“Look, our babies miss you too.” He waved you down to look over at his screen.

To your disappointment, curiosity got the better of you. “This better be–” Your voice cut off at the sight of your pets. 

All of your in-game pets–the dogs, cats, and even the random parrot you found in a jungle biome a few weeks back–were all sitting obediently inside your home. Wonwoo had conveniently placed them all in front of his bed, having them turned to look at the empty space–where your bed used to be. 

You narrowed your eyes upon realizing the little stunt he was trying to pull on you. “You’re trying to manipulate me into going back home!”

Wonwoo gasped. “I would never do such a thing!”

After a few moments of pure laughter, you finally gave in. You could never stay mad at him for too long. 

“...Fine, I’ll come back.” You huffed out, finally turning back to your monitor and making your way back home.

As you neared your house, something new caught your eye.

Behind your house, was a small, heart-shaped garden. The ground was tiled in a red-and-pink checkered pattern, carefully placed block by block. Peonies and roses filled the garden’s corners, their colors nicely decorating the huge heart in the middle. In front of the heart sat a small seating area just for the two of you.

“Oh.”

“I made it while you were ignoring me,” Wonwoo said, his voice suddenly next to your ear.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard. It was… annoyingly cute.

You continued to move around, stepping onto the checkered flooring and admiring the little details he had placed all around. It was cute.

“...You built me a garden?” you asked softly.

Wonwoo hummed. “I might have had help from a few tutorials, but yeah. I wanted to make a spot for us.” 

And unsurprisingly, your stomach did an embarrassing flip.

Wonwoo went back over to his desk, quickly moving his player to sit on one of the chairs in the garden. Following him, you sat down in the chair in front of him, and before you could even say anything he beat you to it.

“I just thought our shared house could use a little extra love. You know, since we obviously live together.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands as Wonwoo laughed triumphantly beside you. He just had to ruin the moment! 

“Now c’mon, let’s go to bed,” he said as he pressed ‘Save and Exit’. By the time you reached the main menu, Wonwoo was already pulling you away from your desk.

“I’m never building you anything ever again,” you muttered, body betraying you as you leaned into him on your shared bed.

“Yeah, yeah,” he murmured into your hair, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head. “And yet you still let me sleep next to you.” 

You wanted to argue, but sleep was already pulling you away. “Mhm, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

[sunshinesfreckless]

His Spoiled Bunny

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

Pairing: Idol!Seo Changbin x fem!reader

Summary: No one spoils their girl like Changbin does. No one eats like he does either.

Warnings: Oral fixation. Gym sex. Tiffany. Dolce. Strength kink. Breeding Kink.

A/N: THERE YOU GO CHANGBIN GIRLIES PLEASE BE HAPPY. HAN WILL BE THE FINAL SPOILED PART !

୨ৎ Felix ୨ৎ Hyunjin ୨ৎ Bangchan ୨ৎ Jeongin

୨ৎ Seungmin ୨ৎ Leeknow ୨ৎ Han

───୨ৎ────────୨ৎ───────୨ৎ───

He liked her pretty.

Not just in the way other men meant it. Not in the bare-minimum, tight-dress, perfect-lips sort of way. Seo Changbin liked her cute—bows in her hair, soft ruffles on her sleeves, frilly collars, little heart buttons she thought no one noticed. But he did. He noticed everything.

He’d buy the bows himself—silk, velvet, ribboned in his favorite colors. He’d frown if her hair wasn’t pinned back just right. He’d adjust it with careful fingers, always murmuring, “There. My pretty girl.”

And when he shopped, it was never random. Never thoughtless.

He didn’t just spoil her. He curated her.

A body-hugging Dolce & Gabbana dress for her wardrobe—he’d had it delivered with a handwritten note: Wear this for me next time we fight so I can forgive you faster.

A silk robe, pale pink with “Bin’s Bunny” embroidered in champagne thread across the back—she wore it when waiting for him to come home from practice, curling up on the couch with his cats.

Two floors of her apartment slowly filled with handpicked things—ruffled skirts, lace-trimmed blouses, designer slippers, glass teacups shaped like blossoms. Things he’d never seen on anyone but her, things he wanted only her to wear.

Even her favorite rose tea wasn’t safe from his affection.

She’d mentioned it once—once—and now, every Thursday, a box appeared. New blends from quiet Parisian brands. Seoul boutique exclusives. Ones with handwritten notes from the tea house owners addressed to Mr. Seo’s fiancée.

But her favorite gift?

The necklace.

He hadn’t said a word when he gave it to her.

Just placed the blue box in her hands one soft evening, while she was sitting cross-legged on his bed in one of his old shirts.

Her fingers trembled as she lifted the lid.

Inside—simple, but so intimate—a fine Tiffany gold chain, so delicate it shimmered with every breath. At its center, two tiny initials, crusted in diamonds: S.C.

He took it from her before she could speak, hooked it gently around her neck, then tilted her chin up with one strong finger.

His eyes were soft. Melted. Full of something heavier than lust.

“Now they know who you belong to.”

She didn’t even get the chance to answer.

Because he kissed her.

Slow. Deep. Like he meant it. Like he’d always mean it.

And later, when he pulled away, her bow had come loose and his name sparkled at her throat—and he looked at her like he was never letting go.

  ────୨ৎ────

He loved the way she fit against him. Small, pliant, perfect. Like she was made to be lifted.

And in his private gym, no one could see them. No cameras, no mirrors except the full-length one bolted to the wall. Just him, her, and the sound of skin meeting skin.

“1… 2… 3—good girl.”

He had her hoisted up, legs locked around his waist, her back pressed to the mirror hard enough to fog the glass behind her. Her skirt was bunched around her hips, Dolce lace panties long discarded, and her heels still dangling prettily off her toes. She’d gasped when he lifted her—by now she knew the routine—but the way he moved inside her still left her breathless every time. Deep, controlled, possessive.

Sweat glistened on his temples, dripping down the curve of his neck, his chest flexing with every thrust. She whimpered when his biceps tensed, his grip tightening just a little more under her thighs as he slammed her down on his cock, hard enough to make her cry out. The weights on the floor clinked as he stepped back, bracing her against the wall like she was nothing.

“Fuck,” he groaned, voice low and ragged. “You look so good like this—look, baby.”

She forced herself to look. In the mirror, it was obscene: her hair a mess, her lips smeared with Chanel gloss, her body trembling from the force of each roll of his hips. But there was also Changbin… thick arms around her, his other hand sneaking down between her thighs—greedy, relentless. The sight of him—sweaty, flushed, thick cock splitting her open while he held her up like she weighed less than a barbell—it pushed her right to the edge.

“You gonna come, bunny?” he panted, his breath hot against her neck. “Come with me, yeah? Show me how good I spoil you.”

And she did. Shaking. Eyes locked on his. A doll for him to play with, and he loved her just like that.

  ────୨ৎ────

But none of the gifts compared to this.

Not the limited edition handbags.

Not the Tiffany diamonds.

Not even the gym.

Because nothing could beat the way Seo Changbin ate.

He loved food. The whole world knew that.

But only she knew how much he loved her.

He had her laid out across sheets he had flown in from Italy—deep red silk that pooled under her like wine. Candles flickered in the corner. She was bare, thighs already trembling, chest rising and falling too fast as he pulled her knees over his broad shoulders and looked up at her like she was dessert.

“Stay still,” he whispered, voice rough, almost reverent. “Be good and let me taste.”

And then his mouth was on her.

His hands stayed firm on her hips, fingers digging into her like he was afraid she’d float away. He groaned into her pussy like he was fucking starving, tongue lapping at her in slow, deliberate strokes that made her eyes roll back. She was soaked—dripping for him—and he loved it. Loved how she squirmed. Loved how she tried to clench her thighs around his head and he pushed them wider.

“I want it all, bunny,” he murmured. “Every sound, every drop.”

Sometimes he moaned louder than she did.

Sometimes his cock was so hard it throbbed untouched.

But he wouldn’t stop. Not until she came all over his tongue—once, twice, again. He knew her body too well. He tasted every twitch. He knew how to ruin her.

“B-Bin—ah—don’t stop—”

“I won’t,” he growled, lips dragging up her inner thigh. “I’m starving.”

And then he buried his face deeper, like he could live there.

  ────୨ৎ────

Later, she couldn’t move.

Not even enough to lift her head from the silk pillow. Her lips were puffy, her eyes dazed, thighs sticky and open beneath the crumpled sheets.

Changbin came back from the kitchen, shirtless, with a tray in hand.

Strawberries.

Warm cream-filled bread.

A bowl of soup, still steaming.

He placed the tray beside her, and knelt at her side like she was royalty and he the most devoted servant. She made a soft, sleepy noise—but her mouth didn’t open.

He smiled. Picked up a spoon.

“Eat for me, pretty girl.”

She obeyed. Bite by bite. Spoon by spoon.

And when he fed her the first strawberry—held between his fingers, gently pressed to her lips—he kissed the juice from her chin and whispered, “You know I’d give you the whole world, right?”

The necklace glittered against her collarbone. Her bow was still crooked in her hair.

And in his arms, she looked like the only thing he’d ever chase.

 ────୨ৎ───

She’d fallen asleep on the couch again.

Half on her side, one leg dangling off the edge, the throw blanket barely covering her thighs—and not the fluffy blanket he told her to use either. The TV was still on, some rom-com playing in the background, and her phone lay face-down on the floor like it had slipped from her hand mid-scroll.

He sighed softly. Then smiled.

“You’re gonna get a cramp like that, bunny…”

But he didn’t wake her.

He set down the bag—the bag, the one with the fluffy pink cardigan she mentioned once in passing while shopping. He’d had it sent from Japan because they sold out in Korea. The matching slippers were in his backpack. And tucked in the crook of his elbow: her favorite dinner in takeaway boxes, still warm.

Carefully, like he was lifting something sacred, he scooped her up. Thick arms around her back and knees, her head naturally tipping into his chest. She stirred but didn’t wake, just blinked blearily and hummed, nose nudging into the soft black fabric of his shirt.

“Smells like gym,” she mumbled.

He chuckled. “Rude.”

But his voice was so gentle. So stupidly soft for her.

He carried her into the bedroom like nothing. His arms didn’t even shake. Laid her down on the duvet and pulled the cardigan from the bag, helping her into it like she was made of glass. She blinked again, eyes sleepy-sparkly, lips pouty.

“Were you out?”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “Got your stuff. Dinner too.”

“…You’re always buying me things.”

“Because I love spoiling you.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “And you always look so cute in the things I pick.”

She tried to argue, but her yawn cut her off.

So he sat at her bedside, opening the boxes and gently scooping up a bite of warm rice, lifting it to her lips.

“Eat for me, pretty girl.”

She blinked, took the bite. Then a second. And a third.

“You didn’t eat yet?”

“I’m eating now.” He smiled. “Watching you counts.”

And later, when she was full and warm and fuzzy in her new cardigan, she laid against him, one palm on his chest, fingers tracing his muscle like it soothed her.

“You’re so big,” she mumbled.

He grinned, cocky—but his voice betrayed how shy he got when she touched him like that. “Yeah?”

She nodded. “Feels safe…”

And he tucked the blanket tighter around her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Good. ‘Cause I’m never letting you go.”

 ────୨ৎ────

She was already breathless, legs trembling around his thick waist, hands gripping the slope of his shoulders like she could hang onto sanity through him.

Fuck he made her a fan of Missionary. He Loved gift giving, even if it was just his cum.

One hand beneath her thigh, the other braced beside her head, all of him wrapped around her. His biceps caged her in, his chest pressed firm to hers, and his voice—deep, wrecked—growled right into her ear.

“You feel that, baby?” he whispered, thrusting up again. “How deep I am?”

She whimpered, back arching.

He was so strong like this. Like she weighed nothing. Like her body was made for this—for him. Every movement made her feel owned, spoiled, ruined by the boy who treated her like treasure in daylight and like his personal plaything at night.

“You take me so well, always do,” he murmured, kissing down her jaw, her neck. “Fuck—I might just give it to you for real.”

Her eyes fluttered open. “Bin—”

“You want it, don’t you?” His hand slid between her thighs, rubbing gently where she needed him most. “You want me to fill you up, make you mine forever.”

She couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Could only nod as he grinned, so smug, so in love.

“My pretty little wife,” he breathed, kissing her again, messier this time. “Gonna look so good with a bump. All soft. All mine.”

She moaned, clinging tighter, and he laughed—ruined and breathless himself.

“I’ll take care of you,” he promised. “Like I always do. You won’t lift a finger. Just let me love you, spoil you, fuck you full.”

And when he finally came—deep, with a gasp of her name—he didn’t move. Just wrapped her tighter in those stupid, beautiful, strong arms of his and kissed her forehead like she was the most precious thing he’d ever held.

Because she was.

And even if she never did end up full of him, he’d still treat her like she was carrying his whole world in her belly.

 ────୨ৎ────

But it wasn’t just that he gave.

It was how much he loved.

He never let her walk on cold floors.

He kept a box of warm socks just for her in his car, in case she forgot hers.

He called her bunny all the time.

He picked her up from every schedule with her favorite snacks in the cupholder.

He massaged her legs when she was tired, made her protein smoothies, ran her bubble baths. He was softer than he looked.

And when he was tired—really tired—

She took care of him too.

She tucked him in when he fell asleep on the couch. She kissed his calloused hands and told him he was the best man she’d ever known. He never said much when she did that, only blushed, blinked, and held her tighter.

He came home once, late.

And there she was, curled up, waiting for him in one of his old shirts.

“Binnie,” she whispered sleepily.

His chest cracked open with warmth.

He leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“You really are my best gift.”

[trivia-yandere]

ok head me out…jungkook…who happens to be your brothers best friend…are you catching what im saying???

well why the fuck not? off limits

he’s a 10 but…he’s your brother’s best friend & completely off limits.

word count: 3.118

warning: smut, little plot fr fr, age difference (like 3 years), fingering, unprotected sex, alcohol intake, oral sex (f/m) creampies, dirty talking,

“Did you know?” you asked Jungkook, head pressed against the cold window. Your eyes watch as the world passes by in a blur with the speed in which he’s driving. Your mind is a mess, the alcohol flowing through your body.

“Know what?” Jungkook asks.

Jungkook was the person you called to pick you up from your night out with your friends. It was nice of him to deal with all of you - the random crying in the backseat from one friend, to the angry screaming another did over the phone with her boyfriend. It was silent now, however, as he was on his way to driving you home. There’s soft music playing through the speakers that’s at the perfect volume for you and him to talk.

You don’t answer his question - not yet, at least. “Remember…my freshman year of highschool,” you start, lifting your head from the window to turn to look at him. “when I kissed you?”

Jungkook feels your eyes on him as he drives. His hand grips the steering wheel, his right hand lightly tapping his fingers against his thighs.

Jay, your brother and his best friend, would have not picked you and your friends up without giving you an earful along the way. Especially once he saw the way you were dressed - short skirt, tight shirt and laced stockings. It was one of the main reasons why you called Jungkook, after all.

“Yes.” Jungkook murmurs. “You weren’t even supposed to be at that party.”

True, you think. But neither was Jay. Your parents were out of town that weekend and that meant Jay was going to do what he wanted. You threatened to expose him if you didn’t go along with him - typical younger sister actions. After giving you a long list of things not to do, he allowed you to come.

Of course, he had told all of his friends about you being there and to keep an eye out. Your beer was stolen from your hands by Jimin who replaced it with soda. Taehyung had plucked the joint that was handed to you by a senior right out of your fingers and insisted you do something else. That something else was joining a game of seven minutes in heaven where, surely, no one would be there.

Except, Jungkook was. And the moment he saw that you were going to be in the closet with someone older than all of them, he had stepped forward and gone inside with you instead. He fully intended on not doing anything with you, of course.

“The look on your face was funny.” you snort, thinking about that memory. You haven’t talked about it with him ever - neither did you even tell Jay. Your brother made it clear from day one - back in elementary school when he met his closest friends - that you were to never be associated with them outside of a platonic relationship. 

They were off limits; and so were you.

“I wasn’t expecting you to do that.” Jungkook responds, snorting. You’ve done it so fast and it lasted less than five seconds. There was only a minute left in the game and you had placed a hand onto his chest and murmured a quiet “our little secret” before leaving. “You were like a little sister to me back then.”

Your smile immediately falls, your eyes shifting back to the road. The mood changes immediately and Jungkook notices it.

Your question you asked him before was did he know. Did he know that you liked him back then? You were only a freshman while your brother and him were juniors. You didn’t blame him for seeing you as a little sister as you all grew up around one another. He witnessed you and your brother fight and argue countless times, eyes bouncing between you and him with large doe-like eyes.

“How about now?” you ask as Jungkook stops at a red light. The roads are clear from any cars in sight. “Do you still think of me as a sister now?”

Jungkook allows himself to look at you fully now. He stares at you for a few moments, gathering your question into his mind. He doesn’t respond, unsure how to.

It was easier to see you as a little sister back then - all of the friend group had. Taehyung would always tease you like Jay had while Jimin was more of the caring type. 

Now, however, it was different. He noticed the shift as you began to grow older. Your senior year to be exact. Your figure changed, your voice grew a bit deeper and older. You were growing a bit mature for a senior girl. He told himself it was because you were a pretty girl so naturally, he would notice these changes.

But even after highschool, his eyes continued to wander to you and linger longer than they should. You moved in with Jay into his apartment to be closer to college and he would see you whenever he frequented there. Your shorts fit you perfectly, as did your shirts. You showed more skin (than Jay ever wanted you to) and when you spoke to him, it was always in a tone that Jungkook swore wasn’t entirely platonic.

“Kook?”

Jungkook blinks, turning his eyes away to look at the light that’s still red. He contemplates just running it as it’s nearly 3 a.m and not a single car around them. His cheeks are dusted a bit red when he realizes he’s been staring at you the entire time.

“No.” Jungkook says. “I don’t.” he answers truthfully.

“Kook?” you hum once more, this time a hand reaches out for him. It touches his arm and causes a jolt of electricity to shoot throughout his body.

“Yeah?” Jungkook swallows, adam’s apple bobbing. This damn light wasn’t turning fast enough. He turns his attention towards you. He notices from this angel, the red lights are illuminating your face. Your lips are coated in gloss and it shines.

“Can I stay at your place tonight?”

Another swallow, followed by a squeeze of the steering wheel.

“I lied about where I was going to Jay tonight. And…if I go home. He’ll see me dressed like this.” you explain further. It causes Jungkook to glance down at your attire again, immediately regretting it and then meeting your eyes. “He’ll call me a whore again.”

Jungkook wants to say no - that you should go home. Jay should be asleep by now; he had work in the morning right? 

Jungkook doesn’t see the issue of you being at his apartment. You’ve gone there before…with Jay. Without Jay, what would be the reason for you to be there? What if Jay found out and thought-

“You’re thinking too much into this, Kook.” your lips form into a smile and your head tilts. Your hand squeezes his biceps a bit. “Besides, what could go wrong? It’s just me.”

Everything could go wrong - and it did.

You’re unsure how long it took when you and him got into his apartment, but your lips were on his before either of you could think.

Jungkook’s mind screams at him to stop this. Not only were you not sober, but you were off limits. You were someone he respects greatly and shouldn’t take advantage of.

But your hands roam his chest, then go lower to his stomach. You grab hold of his hands and place them onto your hips - all the while continuing to deepen the kiss.

Jungkook gives in, pushing you closer. You smell of fruity alcohol and strawberries - your lips taste of peach; soft and sticky from the gloss. He’s hooked, the flooded feelings he suppressed coming out at such a terrible time. 

“I want you.” you mumble against his lips, arms wrapped so tightly around his neck. Afraid to let him go in the guise that this could possibly be a (wet) dream; one you didn’t want to wake from just yet.

Jungkook knows you do, but he’s hesitant. Kissing you is bad and it goes against his friendship. But fucking you was something so heinous. If Jay found it, it would ruin nearly two decades of friendship.

“Please,” you repeat, one arm unhooking from his neck to take hold of one of his hand that’s gripping your ass. You dip it between your legs and through the skirt so he can feel just how much you wanted him. “please.” you repeat.

Jungkook groans - how much could one man handle? You’re soaking through your panties and the stockings you’re wearing. His fingers are directly against your clit and on instant, they rub circles on the wet, sensitive bud.

“Jay’s going to kill me if he finds out.” Jungkook groans, capturing your lips into his as his fingers dips between your wet folds. He makes no move to stop or push you away, however.

“It’ll be our little secret.” you say, repeating those very words he heard years ago. A secret he was going to take to the grave with him, no matter how small and insignificant it may have been back then.

Jungkook dips his fingers into your hole. It’s tight and squeezes around him. Instantly, he begins to pump, needing to feel just how wet you were for him.

You don’t hide your moans in the slightest. You wanted Jungkook to know how much you wanted this; wanted him. You waited years to be in this position - to have Jungkook all to yourself, even if it meant that you had to do it behind everyone’s back.

“Just for tonight.” Jungkook says, his warm breath tickling your cheek. “Tonight I’ll give you what you want.”

“The whole night?” your hand is still holding his wrist as he pumps his fingers deeply inside of you. Your arousal is coating his palm, a groan escaping your lips.

“Fuck,” Jungkook grunts, eyes already clouded with lust. “you’re going to be insatiable.”

Jungkook removes his fingers from you, a whimper escaping your lips at the loss of them. He juts his head down the hall to the bedroom. He tugs you along, slamming the door open and leading you inside.

You don’t take your time in removing your clothes and the stocking, having them pool around you.

Jungkook doesn’t waste time pushing you onto his bed and pulling your legs apart. Your pussy is glistening underneath his LED lights and he groans at the beautiful sight. His head dives down, tongue swirling onto your clit. He’s groaning and grunting, his cock throbbing with just the act of eating you out.

It felt so wrong doing this, Jungkook thinks. The same young girl who was once so innocent and sweet was now you. The girl who was an adult who knew what she wanted. Who was laying naked on his bed and whimpering as he suckled onto your clit.

Your hand places itself onto his head, gripping his hair. Your hips grind against his tongue and he lays it flat so you could continue. The amount of times you thought of Jungkook in less than holy ways couldn’t be counted on both hands, but getting to live it out was a dream.

“Fuck, Kook.” you moan. 

Jungkook wasn’t going to stop until you came - which wasn’t far. He has your legs on his shoulders and his hands on your thighs to assure you cannot squirm away from him. His tongue laps your clit greedily, messy black hair jumping with the way his head bobs back and forth.

Jungkook’s cock is painfully hair as you moan for him. His eyes flicker up to your face - scrunched in pleasure with your eyes fluttering open just in time to meet him. He doesn’t look away, a satisfaction flowing through him when your eyes widen slightly and you groan. His tongue continues to ravish onto your cunt greedily until you’re shaking with pleasure.

You begged for him to fuck you right there. To take you as rough as he wanted - to not hold back. You were on birth control, you said. You wanted to feel him - all of him if this was going to be the one and only time.

Jungkook was but a man. He was already a fucked up person and friend. He sinks his cock into you and pounds you so disrespectfully - as if you weren’t his friend's baby sister. As if you weren’t someone he cared about deeply.

You begged for more, each thrust causing your stomach to churn. Your breast bounces erratically and your pussy’s already squeezing out another orgasm, but you don’t want this to end; neither does Jungkook.

Jungkook turns you around and fucks into you even deeper, your face pressed into his cotton sheets. Your ass was amazing from this view - it was going to be engraved into his mind. 

“Your pussy feels so good.” Jungkook whines, fully positive that he sounds like a school boy experiencing sex for the first time. 

It doesn’t help that you’re far too willing for him  to fuck you that you do whatever . You spread your  legs even further to allow him more access, nails digging into his sheets. He pounds into you with no mercy, your pussy squeezing him.

Jungkook hovers about your arched back, right hand dipping between your thighs to capture your already throbbing clit in his. He rubs it as he pounds into you, his lips close to your ear. “Are you really on birth control or was that a lie?”

“I-I am!” you say through moans. “A-Are you going to cum in me?”

Jungkook grunts - you weren’t going to make it easy for him, were you? The thought of cumming in you was exciting as he never did it with anyone without a condom. 

What’s the worst that can happen? You and he were already doing the unforgivable.

“You want me to cum in your pussy?” Jungkook’s voice sounds like sex, deep and sensual. 

You cum right there, overstimulation flowing through you but you nod your head erratically. You wanted any and every part of Jungkook that he was willing to give you.

And Jungkook had.He came right in you - again and again.

The fucking didn’t stop until he’s came in you at least four times. One time on your back so he could see your face as you cum around his cock. Once while you ride him, his hands cradling your hips possessively, eyes darting from the way you rise and fall on his wet cock to your bouncing breast in his face. The next follows immediately after, this time Jungkook taking control while you kept your position right above him.

Somehow, even then you weren’t done. You allowed yourself an hour before you asked if he could cum in your mouth. The request was outlandish but, Jungkook complied. You laid on your back and opened your mouth for him to, in your words, use you.

Jungkook should feel disgusted of himself for already using you as if you were nothing but a whore, but it was far too tempting. He pumps his cock into your mouth, watching the way you take him effortlessly and he ponders just how long you wanted this.

Him fucking your mouth turns to him fucking your breast - another request you had. His hands squeeze your breast together as his thumbs twirl against your hardened nipples.

“I didn’t know you were such a slut, Y/N.” Jungkook grunts.

“Only for you.” was your response that has him cumming again, cum shooting out and coating your breast.

The amount of sex that you and he have leads the both of you exhausted, sprawled out on his ruined sheets and both breathing heavily and sweaty. Jungkook’s mind wanders to how he was going to be able to look at you or his friend in the face again without feeling like a complete asshole.

Neither of you have time to think when a loud ringing sound comes from down the hall. It’s your phone and judging by the time, you can guess who it was. 

“It’ll go to voicemail.” you murmur to Jungkook. “He still thinks I’m at a friends.”

Jungkook's heart sinks but he nods.

“Wanna shower with me?” you ask, a hand placing onto his sweaty forehead. “We can both use it.”

Jungkook sniffs. “If that’s what you’d like. We can.” he says. “Y/N, I-”

You place a hand onto his lips to silence him. “I know, Kook.” you murmur. “You don’t need to let me down easily.”

Jungkook lifts himself to a seated position. “I wasn’t going to say anything like that.” he shakes his head. “I just…I want you to know that I do have love and respect for you.” 

You blink as Jungkook continues.

“And I don’t want you to think that I view you as…a slut or…any less than before.” Jungkook’s cheeks are a crimson color now. “I-”

“Kookie,” you lift your body so that you can grab his hands into your own. The nickname was one he hadn’t heard since middle school and it immediately caught his attention. “I get it. Trust me.” you say, a smile forming onto your lips. “Did you know…” you began, repeating the question from earlier. “...that I liked you?”

Jungkook's mouth goes dry and slowly, he shakes his head. It should be surprising as Jungkook was oblivious to any and every girl that liked him.

However, Jungkook does recall one moment - an instant in which Jay had stated that you and him could never be together. It was a random comment that came entirely out of nowhere, but it happened right after you kissed him.

“Jay knew.” you murmur. “I didn’t tell him but…he knew.” you look away. “I thought maybe he told you. I’m glad he didn’t.”

Jay wouldn’t have - not even now. 

Jungkook slowly inhales. A part of him feels even more like an asshole because this was a mistake. You had feelings for him that should’ve been obvious if he wasn’t such an idiot. Things are much more complicated now.

“Let’s shower.” you say, noticing the change in Jungkook’s demeanor. This was a one time thing that wouldn’t happen again and you’ll grow to be fine with that. “Then if you’re up for it, you can show me that movie you’ve been talking about.”

Jungkook nods slowly, allowing you to tug him off the bed and towards his bathroom. His mind wanders back to your confession and recalls just the amount of times he’s caught you looking his way and smiling shyly when he notices.

Off limits, he hears Jay’s voice say in his mind over and over again as you turn the water on to heat up. He was fucked.

part two

@darkuni63 @sweetempathprunetree @chimmy-licious @investedreader @momnomnom

[bettys-redwinesupernova]

THE PRANK THAT BACKFIRED (sort of?)

drew starkey x fem!reader

SUMMARY: reader and drew decide to play a prank on the obx cast for her youtube channel. they do the “asking to have another girl over” prank, which results in a very angry obx cast who are out to get drew😅

based on this ask !! i hope this is what you asked for @xoxosblogsblog !! i had so much fun writing this and it was ADORABLE, i hope you like it :)) <3

WARNINGS: pure tooth-rotting fluff, slight angst (not really), like one (?) curse word, insinuation of cheating (the prank), chase & rudy threaten to “throw hands” with drew lmao. (lmk if i missed anything!)

WORD COUNT: 1.25k

THIRD PERSON +

Y/N adjusted the camera, angling it perfectly to catch the cozy backdrop of the apartment she shared with Drew during her surprise visit to the set of Outer Banks season four.

The faint hum of laughter and chatter outside hinted at the cast heading out to grab food, giving her the perfect opportunity to set her plan into motion.

"Hey, guys!" she began with a bright smile, wiggling her fingers to the camera. "Welcome back to my channel. Today, I've got something hilarious planned. You've seen those TikTok pranks where someone asks if they can bring another girl over while their partner's friends or family are listening, right? Well, I'm doing it today—with Drew."

She smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "I've got the cast in on this. Well, not really in on it—they think I'm at a friend's place for the night, so this is going to be pure gold. Let's see how much they love me and how far they'll go to defend me from Drew's, um... betrayal."

She turned the camera to Drew, who sat beside her on the couch, half-smiling, half-shaking his head.

"I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," Drew muttered, running a hand through his hair. "They're going to kill me."

"Kill us, you mean," Y/N teased, poking his side. "But it'll be worth it. Trust me."

"Uh-huh," Drew replied, arching a skeptical eyebrow. "When JD and Rudy show up with pitchforks, you're taking the blame."

Y/N laughed, her grin widening as she leaned into him. "Oh, come on. You know they love me too much to actually hurt me. You, on the other hand..."

Drew sighed dramatically but couldn't hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

A few minutes later, Y/N tucked herself behind the camera, keeping it trained on Drew. Drew pulled out his phone and dialed JD's number, putting the call on speaker. The phone rang twice before JD answered, his voice lively with the sounds of clinking plates and background chatter.

"Yo, Starkey!" JD greeted. "What's up, man?"

Drew exchanged a quick glance with Y/N before diving in. "Hey, would you guys mind if I invited someone over?"

The line went silent for a beat, then JD's confused voice came through. "Uh... sure? Who?"

"Just a friend," Drew said casually.

"Cool, yeah," JD replied, his tone nonchalant. In the background, Madelyn could be heard asking, "Who's he inviting over?"

"Oh, she's just someone I met recently," Drew added, making his voice as nonchalant as possible.

Madelyn's voice sharpened. "Wait, she? Did he say she?"

JD stammered for a moment, then said, "Uh, Drew, man, what are you talking about? You have Y/N—why are you inviting another girl over?"

"It's not that deep," Drew said smoothly, earning a wide-eyed stare from Y/N as she struggled to keep from bursting into laughter.

"Not that deep?" Madelyn's voice rose an octave. "Are you fucking insane? Y/N is literally the best thing that's ever happened to you. You're just going to, what, throw her away for some random girl?"

"Yeah, Drew, what the hell?" Rudy's voice chimed in. "Y/N's gonna find out, dude. She always finds out."

"She's not even here," Drew argued. "And I just want some alone time with this girl. Is that so bad?"

Madelyn's voice was nearly a shriek now. "YES, IT'S BAD! You're in a relationship, Drew! A really amazing one, with an incredible person who, by the way, loves you more than anything!"

"And we love her!" Carlacia added. "You're crazy if you think we're not calling her right now."

"Right?!" Chase's voice joined the chorus, sounding equally appalled. "Drew, what is wrong with you?"

JD sighed loudly. "Man, I'm so disappointed right now. Y/N's, like, the nicest, funniest person ever. She's practically family. I don't even know what to say to you."

Y/N clamped a hand over her mouth, tears forming in her eyes from trying not to laugh. Drew, ever the actor, kept his tone neutral but shot her a playful glare.

"You guys are overreacting," Drew said, feigning exasperation. "I mean, Y/N doesn't have to know, right?"

The collective gasp from the group was loud enough to make Y/N choke on her laughter.

Madison started a rant so fierce it almost made Drew break. "First of all, how dare you? Second of all, Y/N deserves so much better than this! She's gorgeous, sweet, funny—literally the whole package! And you're just going to throw that away? For what?!"

"I can't believe you right now," Rudy chimed in. "If you're serious about this, I'm calling her. Like, right now."

"No, don't—" Drew began, but Y/N couldn't hold it in anymore.

Her laughter burst out like a dam breaking, echoing through the room. Drew immediately broke character, laughing along as he waved his hands at Y/N’s camera.

"Wait, wait!" Y/N called out, coming into view of her camera. "Guys, relax! It's a prank!"

There was a stunned silence on the other end of the line, followed by a cacophony of voices.

"Are you serious?!" Madelyn exclaimed. "You scared the crap out of us!"

"You both are the worst," JD groaned.

Rudy's laugh boomed through the speaker. "I was about to knock some sense into you, man."

Chase chimed in with mock indignation. "I was ready to drive back and throw hands, Drew!"

Y/N giggled, holding her stomach as she leaned against Drew. "I'm so sorry, but I couldn't resist! I saw it on TikTok and knew you guys would freak out. And you did not disappoint."

Madelyn groaned dramatically. "You two are so lucky we love you."

JD sighed. "I'm not speaking to you for a week."

"Okay, that's fair," Drew said with a grin.

Eventually, after more playful scolding and laughter, the group hung up, leaving Drew and Y/N alone again. Y/N turned off the camera, still giggling as she leaned back against the couch.

"That was amazing," she said, wiping tears from her eyes.

Drew shook his head, his expression somewhere between amusement and exasperation. "You're lucky they love you. If it were just me, they'd probably disown me."

Y/N smiled, sliding closer to him. "Well, can you blame them? I mean, look at me. I'm kind of a big deal."

He laughed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You really are. They adore you, you know that? It's one of the things I love most about us—how easily you fit into my world."

Her teasing smile softened as she gazed up at him. "It means a lot to me, too. They're like family. And so are you."

Drew leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "You're everything to me, Y/N. I hope you know that."

Her heart melted as she cupped his cheek, her thumb brushing against his jawline. "I do. And you're everything to me, too."

They stayed like that for a moment, wrapped up in each other. The laughter, the teasing, the chaos—it all melted away, leaving just the two of them in their shared little world.

"You think they'll forgive us?" Drew asked after a moment.

Y/N smirked. "Oh, they'll forgive me. You, on the other hand..."

Drew groaned, burying his face in her shoulder as she laughed.

"Totally worth it," she whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple.

betty’s notes ౨ৎ ⋆｡˚

this was so so adorable and so much fun to write !! i hope you all enjoyed, and please please please like and reblog, it means the world when you do <3

my asks are still open so please don’t hesitate to send any in !! i’m in the mood to write some angst, hurt/comfort if you have any requests for drew or rage <3

[hiraethwrote]

ADMIRING FROM AFAR

pairing : choso kamo x f!reader summary : suddenly the quiet, alternative looking guy catches your eye in class and you're unable to shake the idea of him. from afar, you start to create a fantasy of what he might be like — and eventually your imagination has made up a character you slowly find yourself falling for cw : university au, non-curse/modern au, fluff, pining, pierced and tattooed!choso, smoking, one mention of a party, yuki cameo, terrible ending bc i suck at writing endings, no use of y/n word count : 3.6k

Hallway crush!Choso who didn’t stick out to you until you were halfway through the semester, on a random Tuesday.

The only reason he caught your attention in the first place was because he actually raised his hand to answer the professor’s question, something he had never done before, or since.

His husky, yet surprisingly soft voice, broke the deafening silence that came after the question was asked. Nearly in a trance, your head shot up to get a look of the mysterious guy.

Never had you been more thankful for the mandatory core courses you were forced to sign up for — you would never have encountered him otherwise.

Sitting two rows in front of you and five seats to the left, you weren’t able to get a clear view of the guy. However, what you did see, did not disappoint. Tufts of black hair was tied up in two buns, and silver jewlery decorated his ear. He was wearing all black, shy lines of ink peaking up the neck of his shirt and past his sleeves.

From that moment, you were hooked on the idea of this stranger.

Hallway crush!Choso who you spotted nearly daily now that you were aware of his existence.

You had an assignment due in one week, so you decided to go to the library to actually get some work done for once.

Three hours into your study session, you had to exhale deeply as your motivation was running low. So you let your eyes roam the peaceful scenery of fellow students, some more dutiful than others — when you suddenly spot the mystery guy from class, sitting with three other people.

He looked so casual, leaned back in his chair, arms loosely crossed across his chest as a chuckle played on his lips as a response to something the person sitting next to him said.

Now that you had the opportunity to get a proper look at him, you noticed how extremely good looking he was — the type of breathtakingly handsome that hid in plain sight by how he never tried to stick out whatsoever.

For the next hour, you would subtly shoot glances in his direction. In all honesty, you felt somewhat embarrassed by how you found yourself a little infatuated by a guy you didn’t even know the name of.

All of a sudden he raised from his chair, having you straighten your posture. He pulled his leather jacket over his shoulders, his bag across his chest and put his headset on — with a smile and a nod, he begged his friends goodbye and left.

Hallway crush!Choso who, despite having his small group of friends, tended to stick mostly to himself.

Yeah, he sat with his little crew for a few hours, but he always left before the rest of them. Not to mention you often spotted him walking from one class to another in his lonesome.

On the days the library was absolutely packed, and it was impossible for you and your friends to find any available seats, you would sit down at one of the sofa groups in one of the university’s many long hallways. None of you complained either, as there wasn’t the same pressure to remain quiet.

It just so happened that the man who had captured your interest, walked right past your designated spot at least three times every week.

His headset was on like always, walking with easy determination. He simply seemed to mind his own business as he smoothly made his way through the hallway without bumping into anyone.

Your attraction to the dark and handsome stranger wasn’t as subtle as you first had thought, when it didn’t take your friends more than a day to notice your admiring gazes hanging onto him for the few seconds it took for him to walk by.

“Who’s that?” Your friend asked with a playful lilt to her voice, leaning forward and placing her chin in the palm of her hand.

“Hm? Just someone in my social science class,” you answered nonchalantly with a shrug just as he was out of sight.

“Just someone in your social science class,” she repeated mockingly. “And what’s his name?”

Hot embarrassment raised up your neck, “I don’t know,” your voice weak as their teasing chuckles filled the space.

“So you’re just ogling a stranger, essentially?”

“Shut up, he’s hot,” you fired back as you fell back in your chair, desperately trying to ignore their laughter.

Hallway crush!Choso who only continued to remain a mystery as the weeks went on.

It quickly evolved into somewhat of an inside joke — a game almost, all of you pitching in with silly little ideas of what he might be like.

“He looks like a cat person,” your friend whispered as he walked by.

“Oh, no doubt,” you agreed, eyes glued on his back. “Probably grew up with a family cat that always sleeps at the foot of his bed.”

“You think he greets the cat before his family?” She giggled.

You laughed along as you slowly shook your head no. “Don’t think so. He greets his mom first,” you turned your attention to your notebook, your pen drawing mindless doodles across the pages. “He’s a mama’s boy. But not in a weird way, you know? But in a green flag way.”

They would all laugh along to the daily chatter that filled the group before turning back to their own work, forgetting all about him until he would walk by again.

You, however, couldn’t shake him from your mind quite as easily.

The more they fuelled your fantasy with their fun and innocent ideas of who he might be, you fell deeper into the spiral of your crush.

When left alone with your own mind, your imagination went beyond the small quirks your group came up with — you started to imagine meet-cutes.

What if you “randomly” bumped into him at the little coffee shop just off campus?

What if you were paired up for a group assignment?

What if you ended up next to each other in the kitchen at some random frat party, and the conversation would just flow so naturally?

However, you kept those made up scenarios to yourself, because it was too shameful to admit to your friends that you were slowly falling for the person you had made him out to be — still without a name to put to the face.

Hallway crush!Choso who broke your heart just a little, though totally unaware of the fact.

“I didn’t know your man had a girlfriend.” You shot your friend a confused expression before following her gaze.

That was a first. You had never seen him walking down the hallway accompanied by someone. Let alone a tall, blonde and absolutely gorgeous girl, pure confidence running through every fibre of her body.

After that, you saw just the two of them more often than you liked. And you knew it was absolutely ridiculous to even be bothered by the pair, but you couldn’t control how the lump in your stomach formed at the sight of how well they seemed to fit together.

Her look wasn’t quite as edgy as his, but they definitely had the same vibe. Not to mention they seemed to be close, evident by how she always leaned in and grabbed onto his upper arm when he made her laugh, or how just the two of them would leave their study session in the library to share a cigarette.

You hoped seeing them together would eventually kill the proximity crush your brain had stupidly nourished — it turned out to be the opposite.

Watching him interact with her only granted your imagination new material to build on. Whenever she spoke, he had all his attention directed at her — genuinely listening to every word she said. You watched how he was gentle with her, careful not to be too harsh in his movements whenever he made contact with her.

He just seemed like such a good guy, who made your heart beat a little faster every time you saw him.

Hallway crush!Choso who one day actually did crash into you in the line in the cafeteria.

At first you thought you were dreaming, because the scene played out exactly how you had imagined it so many times in your head.

It was lunchtime, meaning the cafeteria was obviously packed. You were blissfully unaware of his presence behind you, having stayed up a little too late the night before to try to get some understanding of the material you had been assigned.

It wasn’t until a random bystander bullied their way through the crowd in the opposite direction, causing him to stumble forward into you and he quickly uttered a polite apology, that you realised exactly who it was.

Strong hands had grabbed onto your arms to help steady you. When you turned to face him, you wished you were able to utter your own apology — however, the words never made their way past your tongue, too startled at the sudden close interaction.

“People really don’t look where they’re going, huh?” he said, a shy curve to his lips as he let go of you.

“That’s people for you,” you tried to joke once you found your words again.

Your heart was beating a million miles an hour as you watched his eyebrows narrow. “Hey, don’t we have social science together?”

He recognised you.

You cleared your throat and nodded weakly, trying to serve him a sweet smile but you could feel the waver in it.

“I’m Choso, by the way,” he smiled casually, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

Once again you tried to smile, but your lips only managed to pull into a thin line as you introduced yourself.

You expected that to be the end of the conversation, that he would pull out his phone in an effort to smoothly round it off without it being too awkward for either of you — but to your surprise, you saw him contemplate his options before opening his mouth again.

“How’s the assignment going?”

“Well,” you started, hoping he didn’t notice the little crack in your voice. “The words are, at the very least, being put on paper, if that tells you anything.”

He chuckled.

You made him chuckle. It was low and coarse, but a chuckle nonetheless. “Sounds familiar.”

He continued to keep the chatter light as you moved along with the queue, completely oblivious of the effect he had on you.

It wasn’t much, but just based on the little interaction, he seemed even more lovely than you had imagined, which only did more damage to your already smitten heart. Because being effortlessly attentive when listening and engaging in the conversation though he didn’t need to, only brought a piece of reality into your fantasy.

Your palms were turning clammy as your heart was pounding against your chest so loud you were sure he heard it. He was, after all, standing closer than one normally would a stranger due to the thick crowd of hungry students surrounding you.

“Well,” he sighed once you’d both paid and stepped into the hallway. “I need to get going. But it was nice to finally meet you for real.”

Finally.

Nice to finally meet you.

“Yeah, you too,” your lips twitching in a smile, heat travelling to wash over your face. You had always thought him to be so incredibly handsome, but you had underestimated how charming his smile was up close.

“I’ll see you around.” The curve of his lips continued to linger as he backed away before he eventually turned his back towards you and removed his headphones from around his neck to put them on.

Hallway crush!Choso who slowly started to gain the title of acquaintance after the reenactment of one of your made up scenarios.

It started very casual — he would greet you with a quiet “good morning” as he walked past you in the auditorium before taking his usual seat two rows in front of you.

“Morning,” you smiled in return while he held your gaze for a little while.

Waking up the days you knew you had class with Choso became a little easier when you knew what friendly routine was waiting for you.

After three weeks of the innocent interaction, he decided to disrupt the comfortable pattern you had fallen into. This Tuesday morning, he didn’t continue walking down the stairs after wishing you a good morning.

No, he stopped dead in his tracks, pointing at the empty seat beside you. “Is this seat taken?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, and shook your head. “No. No, all yours,” you stuttered as you moved your bag for him to sit down.

He uttered a weak “thanks,” and made himself comfortable, pulling out his leather bound notebook and pen.

Hallway crush!Choso who turned out to be a lot funnier than you had first imagined.

Too caught up in the potential romantic gestures that entertained the depths of your mind, you found yourself so giddy whenever he whispered a silly joke during class for your ears only.

Hallway crush!Choso who accompanied you for the few minutes it took for you to walk to your friends after class finished.

“I’m headed in that direction anyways, so I’ll just tag along.” You’d be a fool to decline his offer, cutely biting your bottom lip and clutching your laptop closer to your chest, feeling like a love struck teenager.

When coming around the corner, you avoided looking in the direction of your friends at all costs. You knew you wouldn’t be able to suppress the embarrassment that would flush your face if you witnessed their shocked expressions as a reaction to walking alongside the guy you had fawned over for months.

It wasn’t until he was out of sight that you spun around — sure enough, they all sported exactly the facial expression you had expected, staring wide eyed with their jaws slacked.

“Okay? Something you forgot to tell us, babe?” One of your friends gushed once you had taken your seat. You shrugged innocently, trying not to let all your excitement spill over at once.

“Hope you at least know the name of your stranger now,” the one sitting opposite you teased.

You nodded slowly, “Choso,” you answered simply, enjoying the interrogating looks they were giving you.

“And? Give us the details!” All three of them had pushed their school work aside — this was ten times more important after all.

So you began to explain of the happy accident that had taken place a few weeks ago, and it had eventually ended with the two of you always sitting next to each other during lectures — none of them failed to match your energy.

“Wait, but I thought he had a girlfriend?”

And as easy as that, your girly and romantic fantasy shattered into a million pieces. Guilt was written all over your friend’s face as one could literally see the realisation dawning on you.

Having lived in the pure bliss of your new friendship, you had completely forgotten about the goddess he was so often seen with.

You started to reflect over the fact that you couldn’t remember seeing her in a while, and felt sick that you might have been too wrapped up in Choso that you just hadn’t noticed her recently.

Thus your excitement was short-lived, not ever wanting to be that girl.

Hallway crush!Choso who noticed how your mood was drastically different than normal the next time he met you.

He had looked forward to seeing that sweet smile tug at your lips when he wished you good morning, but instead he was met with a cold “hi”. You didn’t even turn to look at him.

Had he done something to upset you? The last time he saw you, nothing seemed to be off. You were your chipper self, greeting him with a curve to your lips so wide, your eyes would crinkle.

Class started, and you had yet not said another word to him. He shot you a glance, seeing your fingers hurriedly travel across the keyboard of your laptop, and every once in a while letting your eyes flicker up to look at the professor.

Maybe it was just a bad day. Maybe you had an exam in a different course that was causing you unnecessary stress.

Or maybe, god forbid, you’d come to the conclusion that Choso wasn’t someone you wanted to waste your attention on after all.

Hallway crush!Choso who decided to walk you out of the auditorium, despite your cold front trying to push him away.

It was awkward — incredibly awkward, a feeling that really hadn’t been present in the newly blossomed friendship. Still with no words exchanged, you packed your stuff and pulled out your phone.

Once outside of the auditorium, Choso wanted to try and start a conversation to try and disclose whether he’d done something or not. He only managed to catch your eyes when calling your name before a bolting figure came crashing into his side.

“There you are! You’re an impossible man to catch these days,” the girl exclaimed.

Choso saw the discomfort that subtly traveled down your face, awkwardly shifting your weight from one foot to another.

“I’ll see you around, Choso,” you said shyly, about to turn around and walk away before the blonde captured your attention.

“Wait, is this the girl you’ve been talking about?” You quickly spun back around, eyebrows pinched together in confusion as the blonde girl had peaked your interest.

Switching your attention to Choso for a second, you noticed how dusty pink had coloured his pale cheeks, his eyes wider than you’d ever seen them.

“It might be,” he said before clearing his throat and rolling his shoulders, hoping you didn’t notice the stress that was residing in his body.

“Finally,” she groaned, her hand shooting forward to initiate a handshake. “I’ve been wanting to meet you for a while. I’m Yuki.”

You still weren’t able to completely put the pieces together yet, blinking at her as you accepted her hand and introduced yourself.

“Oh, I know,” she mused, flashing you a cheeky grin. “This one right here,” patting a flat hand against his chest, “doesn’t really stop talking about you.”

A shy smile spread across your lips as you quickly shifted your gaze to him. “You’ve been talking about me?” You spoke softly.

“Well-” he stuttered, the pink quickly deepening into red.

A teasing scoff shot past her teeth. “Isn’t he cute when he gets shy,” she said as Choso’s shoulders grew stiff under her embrace. “You have that effect on him.”

When the opportunity to properly observe the dynamic between the pair in front of you, as well as digest the things Yuki was actually telling you, the pieces finally fell into place — they were just friends.

You had worried and spiralled for no reason, having spent the days since you had last seen him to prepare you to distance yourself from him.

But one look at his embarrassed face and tense body as a result of being teased about you, had all the butterflies come swarming back within seconds.

Choso kept most of his attention on Yuki as she went on to ask him what she’d initially come to talk to him about, but he couldn’t stop himself from letting his eyes dart over to you every once in a while.

“My god, you’re my saviour,” Yuki gushed at her friend, tugging playfully at his arm, before turning back toward you. “He’s truly a catch,” she said with a wink as she slowly started to back away. It had you grow a little restless, knowing you would soon find yourself standing alone with him. “Be good to him. And it was great to finally meet you!”

And she was off.

Slowly Choso turned his entire body towards you, his face having done the impossible and gotten even more red.

“What an interesting interaction,” you breathed.

A nervous chuckle slipped out of him in an attempt to remove the immense pressure that was looming over him. “She’s really something.”

“What was that part about me making you shy?” Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth.

“I mean-“ he cleared his throat. “I guess you’re seeing it in action right now.”

“Hm,” you said simply, causing him to narrow his eyebrows in response — both in confusion and slight worry.

“Hm what?” Swallowing the lump in his throat.

“It’s cute.”

Then he couldn’t stop smiling.

Boyfriend!Choso who managed to live up to every bit of your love dazed fantasy.

At times, you were scared you had let your fantasy go to far — that in your desperate hope for something more, you had created a character that no living person would ever be able to live up to.

Yet here Choso was, in the flesh, embodying every scenario you had made up when you had been tossing and turning on sleepless nights, and then some.

Small or big, he never disappointed.

He held the door open for you, he remembered your coffee order, he showered you with compliments and admiration.

It didn’t take long for him to learn how you yearned for grand gestures — so Choso made it a mission to fulfill those dreams.

Not only did he succeed, but he excelled well beyond your expectations.

He made sure to take you on dates frequently, but also spontaneously so you wouldn’t see them coming. He managed to make every occasion feel planned and intentional.

Boyfriend!Choso who was absolutely baffled once you told him about how you had admired him so intensely before you ever talked to each other.

The confession caught him completely by surprise, because he couldn’t in his wildest dreams have imagined you even noticed him before the little episode in the cafeteria.

Boyfriend!Choso who despite succeeding in making you his girlfriend, got just as shy about you now as he did then.

tags : @sad-darksoul

an : i hope it's a universal experience to create proximity crush that drives you crazy... dividers by @/strangergraphics comments and reblogs is much appreciated

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