Tumgik
#my roommate is watching it for the first time from the beginning!!!!
nyoomiin · 18 hours
Text
roommates: part eleven.
Tumblr media
your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)
Tumblr media
pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader
tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure
Tumblr media
prev. masterlist. next.
Tumblr media
“Can't even look me in the face?” Kunikuzushi sneers. It's biting, that tone. “This is getting ridiculous.”
He stands between you and the hallway, preventing you from rushing into your room the moment you return home — a habit you had picked up on recently. It's shameful, you know. You really wish you talked it out with him earlier, but you had avoided him on pure instinct the first time you saw him and just couldn't stop.
A muttered excuse tumbles out of your lips, but it trails off, and you're left staring at him like a fool.
“I'm sorry,” you say softly, hesitantly meeting his gaze.
His arms are crossed, his brows drawn. He looks more hurt than the furious he portrays himself to be. His next words are said with stormy eyes and through gritted teeth. “I never pegged you down as the cowardly type.”
It stings, but he’s right, even if he was being rather harsh about it. You couldn't run away from it forever.
He sighs, letting his arms fall, and you watch as he brushes past you, heading for the door. Then, he pauses, turning to look at you.
“Come on,” he tells you impatiently, head cocked to the side. “What are you waiting for? I know a quiet place to talk.”
He spares you not a glance as you walk, always a step ahead as he leads you along the way. You follow him curiously, out of the city, up and down the winding paths of the forest, on a cobblestone path that turns to soil and then grass.
Crisp breeze tousles his hair, his cape flowing behind him, and starlight dusts his figure a shimmering glow. For all that it is worth, you think he looks simply angelic.
“We’re almost there,” he says, interrupting the silence.
We better be, you huff. You've been walking for ages now, and you've certainly had enough time to think over what you’d say to him.
You reach a cliff's edge, overlooking the city and the endless twilight beyond. Damn, you think. It's been a while since you've been this far out.
He sits before you do, legs dangling in the air, chin tilted up towards the skies. You lie on the grass instead, head propped up by an arm. You try not to think about how one wrong move would send you tumbling all the way down.
You tell yourself Kuni would catch you if you did.
For a second, everything is still. His eyes flutter shut, and you watch as he relaxes, as if letting something fall away. For a second, you can pretend that nothing has happened, that nothing has changed, and that you were just a dressmaker and he was just your roommate. And for a second, you entertain a ridiculous thought. You wish that you could stay in this moment forevermore.
You can't, you think. For you still had a lifetime to live.
“Will you start from the beginning?” you ask him softly.
His eyes flicker open, turning to face you almost lazily. He has a way of turning fear into confidence, you learn. He huffs. “As if you don't know the story of my creation.”
You pout. “But I want to hear it again. Pretty please?”
He relents with a sigh, and you cheer.
… It gets dark really, really fast.
“Dottore, that lunatic… He spins a ludicrous tale of how Niwa had killed you for your heart, then fled out of guilt.” Kuni's tone drips with derision, and you can tell part of that derision is directed at himself.
You shift closer to him, frowning faintly. “You couldn't have known.”
He scoffs, and to that, he says nothing.
“Ashes,” he murmurs, gaze a thousand miles away. “There was nothing left but ashes.”
You gasp, letting out a soft cry. Poor kid. Poor Kunikuzushi. Did he never get a break?
The night draws colder as you learn about the centuries Kuni — now named Scaramouche, had lived. Your eyes burn with stifled tears as you can only imagine how someone so pure was lost to time, devoured by wrath and woe, bitterness and venom.
“You should have seen me then,” he tells you, a wry smile spread across his face. “You would have hated it.”
You shake your head in protest. “I wouldn't have. Well, I mean… I would've stayed by your side, at least.”
Surely that counted for something?
“Don’t make me laugh. Someone like you could never survive an organisation like the Fatui,” he retorts. Somehow, you have the feeling he doesn’t mean it in a bad way. “You would have stayed, even if ‘Kunikuzushi’ was no more? Even if you are hurt endlessly?”
His eyes are electrifying, challenging. His face is set in the way he expects you to laugh and take back your words, in the way he expects you to say you'd leave after all. You scowl right back, resolve firm.
“Even then.”
He lets out a sharp breath of a laugh.
“I reached out for the Gnosis,” he says, and there's something tight in his tone, strained with a certain kind of grief. “Then, I fell.”
You gape. Utterly flabbergasted. What. The. Fuck.
“And you — I — How are you not dead…?”
“Don't be stupid,” he harrumphs, as if he had not fallen from twenty meters in the air. As if he had not hit the ground, as if he had not been scared and frantic and desperate. “I would never be so pathetic as to die from something like that.”
Studying him silently, you sigh, brows drawn with worry. He lies on the ground next to you after he had gotten sick of looking down at you, and he's so close you can hear every breath he takes. He had survived, that you know. How else would he be here before you, alive and well?
Still…
“Did it hurt?”
He shrugs nonchalantly. “Only for a second.”
You roll over closer to him, and he doesn't seem to mind when you squish against his side. “So, I've been curious,” you say. “Why were you so agitated that day? Y'know, the last day I saw you before I…”
His nose scrunches.
“Oh, then?” he laughs. It is a rather hollow laugh. “Vermin who didn’t know their place decided to cause a ruckus, is all.”
You sigh, letting both the matter and your head drop. It’s obvious he will not elaborate on it further. Maybe he’ll tell you another day.
He ends his tale rather anti-climatically, brushing off his entire life as if it were simply a pain to deal with. You remain silent, apprehensive and contemplative. You had lived a whole different life, and a whole different timeline had come and gone and now, you were one of the only people in the world that remembered it still.
He takes your silence the wrong way. Looking terribly unamused, he smirks, cocking his head. “Well, what will you do now? Maybe if you beg, that meddlesome god will wipe your memories for you once more.”
“Archons, who do you think I am? If anything, this means you’re stuck with me now,” you tell him snootily, smacking his head.
It’s kind of poetic, isn’t it? That not even death could do you part? You had liked him then and you liked him now, and there’s a small part of you that thinks you would have liked him even when he was stained with hell. Perhaps one day, this like would turn into love as well.
Whatever the case, and in one way or another, he was yours now.
“You’re a moron,” he scoffs, lips quirked up into a half-smile.
You grin. “And you’re a bitch.”
(“‘m sorry I was avoiding you,” you murmur drowsily, “I didn’ mean to…”
He glances at you just as your head lolls against his side, fast asleep. His useless heart has the gall to stutter.
The both of you had talked until day breaks, and it is when the horizon is painted pink that your fatigue catches up with you. How weak, he muses, resisting the urge to poke at your cheek. To think mortals needed something as redundant as sleep.
You’d have to continue your conversation another day, then, seeing as how you were in no shape to do so now. There were still many things he had to discuss with you.
Standing, he dusts himself off, ready to head home. He looks down at you. A beat passes. Then, he huffs, lugging you onto his back.
“Don’t get the wrong idea,” he mutters under his breath. Humans were weak, especially someone like you. You’d certainly fall ill if he were to leave you alone, out in the open like this. Maybe even deathly ill. “You can’t pay your half of the rent if you’re dead.”
So, you’d owe him for this. Hmph.)
Tumblr media
taglist. (send an ask to be added.)
@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax @mostlymoth @thenyxsky @kiyiiaarchived @skyvella @theautisticduck @someonealreadyhadmynickname @wanderersumbrella @im-just-here-for-the-coffee
Tumblr media
61 notes · View notes
zhowongli · 2 years
Text
every time i see bleach content and then i get so giddy and nostalgic and then i wanna reread but then i remember i didnt like the ending and i just ben affleck smoking meme and i just pepecry
17 notes · View notes
dennisboobs · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
historic event (to me)
11 notes · View notes
Text
i realized the reason i never related to the netflix teen movies was bc the “weird kids” they put in the background for the main characters to be grossed out by were literally just me and my friends in high school
7 notes · View notes
girlwithfish · 10 months
Text
the firsr song i ever kissed my bf to was be kind - alex g the stairwell video on youtube like isnt that crazy lmfaoo and kinda funny
1 note · View note
Text
.
3 notes · View notes
stylesharrys · 1 month
Text
special brownies [weedrry]
summary: harry and y/n accidentally eat their roommates special brownies.
warnings: mentions and use of weed (edibles), being high, swearing, kissing, biting, unprotected sex, bit of dirty talk.
word count: 2,396
a/n: i came up with this idea very randomly and i have written it as fast as i possibly could lmao anyway, the whole thing is about accidentally getting stoned, so if that makes you uncomfortable, please don't read! if it doesn't, enjoy <333
Tumblr media Tumblr media
//
It’s been a long week and Y/N is feeling it. Between classes and shifts at the cafe, her feet are sore and her mind is tired. She wants nothing more than to cuddle up on the sofa with a good tv show and pass the fuck out.
And tonight is supposed to be her lucky night. Tom has a night shift and Harry has a hot date. No boys, no roommates, no interruptions.
There’s just something about knowing she’s got the flat to herself all night long, and she can lounge about like the lazy girlie her heart yearns to be.
She starts with a long, relaxing her aching body in the hot soapy water until her skin begins to prune. Y/N takes extra time to moisturise her body and brush her hair. Even treats herself to a face mask while she does so.
When she leaves the bathroom, it’s almost 7 p.m. and Tom has already left for work. The apartment is clean, and most importantly, quiet.
She’s a bit too excited in her movement to the sofa, a squeal slipping from her lips. Too caught up in her head, she doesn’t notice Harry leaning against his bedroom door, arms folded across his chest.
It’s not until he clears his throat that Y/N jumps out of her little happy dance with a scream. A smirk sits on his lips, amused by the way she scowls at him.
“What the hell are you doing here! You’re supposed to be out on a date!”
Her tone is accusing, pointer finger jabbing at the air in his direction. She notices his attire; grey shorts and a white hoodie. Y/N’s shoulders slump.
“You have got to be kidding me,” she huffs.
“What? I thought you liked hanging out with me?” Harry follows her to the sofa, sitting on  the opposite end of her.
Y/N crosses her arms furiously. “I do! But I was so excited to have the flat to myself for just one night.”
Harry’s brows are raised suggestively, that sick fucking smirk on his lips again. Y/N lunges a pillow at his face. “Not for those reasons, you perv.”
He barks out a laugh, hugging the pillow close to his chest as he props his feet up and on Y/N’s lap. He watches how her bottom lip pouts out and his face softens.
“Look, if you want me to fuck off out for the evening, I can.” Harry offers.
She scoffs. “That is what you were supposed to be doing.” A moment of silence passes and she sighs. “Sorry, that came out rude. I'm not about to kick you out of your own flat – though I am going to force you to watch the last three episodes of The Rookie with me.”
Harry makes no attempt to hide the groan that follows her words. It’s not that he doesn’t like the show, it’s that he hates the show. He’ll never understand Y/N’s weird obsession with emergency services.
First, it was Criminal Minds, then a month later she binge watched 9-1-1 Lone Star in six days. Now she’s on the newest season of The Rookie and he’s sure she only started season one at the beginning of the month?
“Do we have to?” he grumbles.
Y/N throws another pillow at him. “Yes. You’re the one interrupting my night, you could at least do it quietly… and with snacks.”
Her voice trails off at the end of her sentence and Harry has to bite back a grin. She could never be mad at Harry, she loves him and his company far too much. Tom, on the other hand… yeah, she would definitely be mad if it was him crashing her lazy girl night.
Harry stands from the sofa, wandering through to the kitchen. He grabs two bottles of water in one hand and scans his eyes through the cupboards in search for a suitable snack.
They’ve not been shopping for a few days, so there’s only some dry crackers, a half-eaten bag of cashew nuts (ew, Tom), and granola. Harry contemplates ubering some cookies and milkshakes when his eyes land on a bakery box on top of the microwave.
He squints as he reads the writing on the top of the box.
Tom’s. DO NOT EAT!
Harry flips the lid, six thick slices of dewey chocolate brownies. They’re like fucking slabs… he’s sure Tom won’t mind if he and Y/N share just one between them.
He pops a (massive) slice on a plate and toddles back to the kitchen. The show is paused on the opening scene, Y/N shuffled to get comfortable on the sofa. She raises a brow at the snack in question.
“We’re sharing a brownie?”
Harry huffs as he sits. “S’all we’ve got in the kitchen, and they’re Tom’s. Didn’t wanna take the piss when his little sticky note clearly says DO NOT TOUCH!”
Y/N snorts, breaking the brownie in half and handing Harry the bigger slice. She takes a bite, face screwing slightly.
“These taste a little funny… nutmeg, maybe?”
She turns to Harry who doesn’t say anything and still hasn’t taken the brownie. The look on his face irks her. She huffs, swallowing. “I feel bad that your date cancelled on you.”
His eyebrows almost raise to his hairline. “And what makes you think she was the one to cancel?”
“Was she?” Y/N asks.
Harry takes the brownie with a sigh. “Yeah.”
//
They can’t stop fucking giggling.
The show is long forgotten about, has been for the past thirty minutes. They’re both feeling warm. Harry stripped from his jumper and Y/N changed into some little shorts and one of Harry’s baggy t-shirts.
Neither of them know where this amusement came from, but there is absolutely no calming either of them down. They’re sneakily sharing a second slice of Tom’s brownies; eyes on the door in case for some reason, he comes home an hour after his shift has started.
“They taste so weird, but I can’t stop eating it.”
Harry chokes out a laugh, eyes welling with tears because he just finds Y/N so fucking funny tonight.
She’s a mess too, eyes squinted and shoulders hunched as she laughs uncontrollably. They’re both crossed-legged on the living room floor, knees knocking gently.
The more she chews, the more she begins to recognise that unfamiliar taste… the way it lingers on her tongue. Her laughter slows for a moment, as if realisation is beginning to dawn on her.
She stares at Harry with wide eyes and parted lips, mouth still full.
“Oh, my god.”
“What?”
“They’re fucking weed brownies!”
Harry can’t breathe, struggles to look away from the fear and shock on Y/N’s face. His whole body begins to shake with laughter and Y/N finds herself following.
“Harry, it’s not funny!” she shrieks. “This is so bad, Harry.”
She’s laughing through her words. Even she can’t take herself seriously in this state.
“D’you wanna play Just Dance?”
Harry’s words only make her laugh harder. The remainder of her brownie is thrown at his naked torso. Harry wastes no time to tackle her to the ground, hovering between her legs as he tickles her sides.
He's blowing raspberries on her neck, eliciting loud cackles from her mouth. Y/N tugs at his hair, her legs flailing around his hips when he nips at the skin on her throat.
They don’t say anything. She continues to chuckle, and Harry continues to bite.
Their laughter has fizzled out into breathy giggles. Neither of them are sure when Harry’s bites turned into kisses. When their fingers became intertwined. When her legs closed around his middle.
And neither of them say a fucking thing about it.
Harry’s lips travel up her neck and across her jaw. She finds his mouth feverishly, nothing but tongue and teeth but to the pair of them, it’s the best kiss they’ve ever had.
They’re needy, hot and wanton all of a sudden. Like a switch has been flipped and they’re clinging to one another like lifelines.
Harry holds her hands above her head, fingers tangled. He’s hard, rock hard. Pressing into Y/N’s tiny fucking shorts so much he’s sure he can feel her arousal through both of their clothes.
He ruts against her, testing the waters. The moan he receives sends all blood down south. He’s always known sex to be incredible when you’re high. The thought of him sharing it with her? God, he could bust there and then.
He releases her hands so he can feel up her thighs, skin hot and smooth. Their lips don’t separate, not once. She lets her hands fall into his curls, nails scratching at his scalp and she tugs at the roots.
Harry’s moaning into her mouth, eager and desperate for more. He takes her shorts off quickly and strategically. So quickly that she doesn’t notice until she feels a cool breeze between her thighs.
Y/N’s eyes roll to the back of her head, more than ready for whatever the fuck he wants to do to her.
They haven’t hesitated, not once. Not until Harry's hands are at the waistband of his shorts and he wonders if he should grab a condom or just go down on her. He knows she’s on the pill, just like they both know they’re both clean.
Harry gets tested once a month and Y/N doesn’t sleep around.
She answers his inner turmoil for him and tugs his shorts down the best she can. Harry breaks the kiss for a split second to tug his shorts to his knees. He’s back to kissing her as quickly as he pulled away, tongue against hers. Hot and messy.
Y/N feels his tip twitch against her clit, an airy sigh echoing into Harry’s mouth. He lets his fingers swirl around her wetness, smearing it across her smooth cunt and coating his thick shaft in her arousal.
They’re panting messes, eager, desperate and horny.
When he lines himself at her entrance, she locks her legs around his waist. Harry bumps forward, a shrill cry slipping from between their lips at the sensation of one another.
Harry wants to give her a moment to adjust, but Y/N doesn’t. She wants it hot and hard. She wants the pain. She wants to feel every fucking inch of him.
She probably should’ve warned Harry how she gets when she’s high. How much of a whiny, cock-hungry whore she can become. Then again, how was she supposed to know they’d accidentally eat their roommates special brownies?
“Jesus fucking Christ.” Harry chokes as he bottoms out.
Y/N’s struggling to catch her breath but she’s never loved the burn in her lungs more. “Fuck me, H.”
He twitches inside her. “Fuck me hard.”
His hips begin to roll, cock nuzzling itself deep inside her. He can feel everything. Every bump, dip, swell. God, she’s fucking soaked, leaking down to the floor but neither of them care.
Harry slowly begins to quicken his pace, arms bent at the elbows either side of Y/N’s head to prop himself up. She doesn’t loosen her legs around his hips. She needs him as close as he can possibly get.
Even his cock buried to the brim in her cunt isn’t enough. She needs his soul touching hers.
“You’re so fucking tight.”
“Yeah?” she breathes. “You gonna fuck my tight cunt, baby? Fuck me like you own me.”
He can’t believe his fucking ears. He’s always found Y/N attractive, but never in his wildest fucking dreams did he expect her to be this goddamn filthy.
Harry loves it.
His thrusts grow harsher. She has no time to catch her breath between hits, her mouth in a constant state of slack – eyes rolled back and eyebrows pinched.
“My perfect little cunt.” Harry seethes.
The noises of her pussy are like electric waves in Harry’s ears. He feels them in his soul, like sparks and jolts. He’s never felt more alive.
He’s fucking into her manically. Behind closed eyes all he can see shapes and colours of need and desire. Sex has always been good, always been great high. But this? Fuck, he’s never felt something so otherwordly.
He never wants it to end, wants to spend the rest of his life fucking her like a whore. She’s tugging his hair, likely making his scalp bleed but he loves it. He’d bleed a fucking river just to feel her cunt around him again.
“I’m gonna come!”
Her words awaken something animalistic within Harry. Like his life depends on feeling her release around him – like it’s what he was born to experience.
He chases her high, nipping and suckling on her neck, fucking into her cunt as fast as his restrained hips will allow. Y/N’s a blubbering mess, a sight Harry never wants to forget.
Fuck, he doesn’t think he could if he tried. This will forever be etched into his mind – her face, her body, her perfect cunt. Jesus, he’s never been so into sex in his life.
Her body begins to tremble uncontrollably, legs locked tight around his middle as she cries his name and pours over him.
Harry’s gruff and desperate moans mix with hers. She’s impossibly tighter, squeezing him; begging him to never let her feel anything but full ever again.
Harry wants to die buried in her cunt.
It takes every single fucking ounce of willpower he has to pull out and release across her thighs – painting the filthiest picture anyone could imagine.
It’s a struggle for either of them to catch their breaths. Hot and heavy panting that soon turns into light laughter, that even sooner, turns into contagious giggles.
Their bodies shake with every chuckle, Harry’s mouth ghosting hers until he nips on her bottom lip.
“We are never to talk about this, understood?”
He grins widely. “Whatever you want, Princess.”
She hums, eyes full of lust. Harry’s still achingly hard, despite coming more than he ever has before. He dips his head to her neck, sucking at her soft skin. His cock twitches against her thigh and she breathes deeply, blinks slowly.
“You wanna go again?” his voice is muffled by her neck.
She grins, legs wrapping back around his middle.
“Whatever you want, baby.”
1K notes · View notes
undressrehearsal · 3 months
Text
dare to be stupid
Tumblr media
summary: a drunken game of truth or dare overtakes your study session
tags: NSFW, tlou au, college!ellie/reader, mentions of drugs, alcohol, drunk sex, oral (r receiving)
a/n: listen idk how this turned into 7.5k. idk what happened. also this is my first time writing smut. idk if the sex is good but it was already so long. if y'all like this one i'll write a sequel or something idk
part 2
“Truth or dare?” 
It had become a tradition for the two of you shortly after moving in together. It was common for the air in your tiny apartment to grow heavy, the stress and anxiety tangible in the air - often around midterms or finals, or if your roommate had a particularly infuriating project. During these times when the bags under your eyes grew too heavy to carry or the lines around your roommate's mouth deepened into canyons, one of you would barge into the other's bedroom - frequently in disarray with notes and textbooks strewn across every surface - slam a bottle of vodka down on the desk, and utter those stupid, little three words, and the game would begin.
And so you didn't even jump when you heard your bedroom door slam against the wall, heavy boots against the carpet. You had been bent over your desk for so long that your neck ached, your eyes swimming with letters that didn't quite make sense and didn't fit into any of the medical terms laid out on your flashcards. When Ellie slammed the bottle of vodka on your desk, you blinked your eyes clear and looked up to meet her eyes. 
She smirked when she said, “Truth or dare?” 
You didn't waste time in clearing off your desk, shoving your books and cards aside into a toppling pile. Ellie, without waiting for permission, set a shot glass down in front of you, kicked off her boots, and plopped back onto your bed. 
Scooting your chair closer, you propped your feet up against the mattress, pursed your lips, and said, “Truth.” 
Ellie groaned, flopping over onto her side and propping her chin in her hand. She had stripped off her jacket, leaving her in a dark t-shirt that almost made her skin look pale in the low light from your desk lamp. “You're such a fucking pussy.” 
You rolled your eyes even as a grin pulled at your lips. “I've known you for too long, Els, and I know that I need a few shots before I'm willing to shove anything anywhere for your amusement. So, respectfully, eat my ass.” 
“You'll have to dare me to,” she quipped back immediately. She wrinkled her nose as you choked back a laugh, tapping a finger against her lips. You tried to ignore how endlessly cute it was as she said, “Where's the weirdest place you've pissed?” 
Another sound burst from your lips, some mixture of a laugh and a shout. You gaped at her, watching as a laugh crept up, a smile tugging at her lips. 
Shaking your head, you said, “Weird, but that's a pretty tame one. Not gonna ask me about my favorite sex position or if I ever snuck drugs into our dorm room last year?” 
Ellie only shrugged. “Gotta warm you up a bit first, babe.” You ignored the way your heart jumped at such an innocent word. After a moment's pause, she added, “But have you?” 
“You'll just have to ask me. One truth per round, bitch.” You pretended to think about it for a moment, though you already had your answer. “Okay, so you remember when we first signed the lease here and we were a bit short on rent?” 
Ellie nodded, her brows furrowed in confusion. 
“Like, a week before it was due, some girl on Tinder hit me up. She was passing through town and only staying for the night, and she was bored. So, she paid me.” 
Ellie's frown deepened. “To, what, have sex with her?” 
Laughter bubbled up your chest as you said, “No, she paid me to piss in her mouth.” 
There was silence for several long moments. Ellie’s jaw hung loose, her eyes wide as she simply stared at you. Several emotions flashed across her face like a movie reel - confusion, shock, disbelief - before finally landing on pure, unfiltered amusement. The corners of her lips quirked up, her open mouth turning up at the corners until a loud, sharp laugh burst from her throat. When Ellie laughed - really, truly laughed - she did it with her chest, a sound so fathomless and full it filled up whatever room she was in. 
In your small bedroom, her laughter bounced off the walls, echoing in the alley outside of your open window. You couldn’t contain your own giggles, muffling your laughter with a hand over your mouth, snorting as Ellie buried her face in your mattress. 
When she finally looked up, her eyes filled with tears, she only said, around her subdued giggles, “How much?” 
You grinned. “$200.” 
Ellie’s mouth fell open again - you’d have to pick it up from the floor at this rate. “Dude, you’re fucking with me.” 
“I swear,” you said, holding up your hand like a scout. “I’ll show you the Venmo if you don’t believe me.”
Ellie fell back against the bed, throwing her head back. “You have to go find this chick on Missed Connections, she can help with the rent.” 
You threw one of your pens at her. Catching it in midair, she stuck the end in her mouth to chew on it. You wrinkled your nose at her, but she only grinned, the pen hanging from the corner of her lips. 
“You're so gross,” you said, though you were still giggling. 
“Bold words from you, Piss Girl. That's, like, the worst superhero name in existence.” 
You threw your hands up, trying your hardest to glare at her and failing miserably. “Hey, $200 is $200. I'm not one to kinkshame.” Ellie threw the pen back at you. You grimaced when it hit your arm, leaving a small spot of spit on your sleeve before clattering to the floor. “God, it's your turn. Truth or dare, bitch?”
Propping herself up on her elbows, Ellie said, “Dare.” A grin pulled at her lips, her voice low as she added, “Because I'm not a fucking pussy.” You stuck your tongue out at her, ignoring her when she mockingly said, “Mature.” 
Your desk was pressed up next to the only window in the room, cracked open to let the cool autumn air in. Your curtains fluttered in the breeze, the dying sunlight creeping in, casting light like liquid gold over Ellie’s skin. As you thought, scrambling to think of a suitable dare, you could not control how your eyes grazed over her exposed skin, the sunlight dipping in her collarbones like pools of ichor. 
Blinking, you met her eyes once more, your throat tight. Your words came out almost choked when you said, “Okay, I dare you to make a spicy two-sentence story about something in this room.”
Ellie scoffed, sitting up and kicking her legs over the side of your bed. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that your drawer of sex toys is off limits?” 
You sputtered, stammering over your own tongue as you felt heat rush to your ears. “Yes, that’s off limits. You don’t even know what’s in there!” 
Ellie hummed, standing up from the bed and taking a few steps around the room. She didn’t look at you, but you could hear that fucking smirk when she said, “That’s what you think, babe.” 
You watched her, tracking her movements as she slowly stepped around your room, scanning for inspiration. Your bedroom was about what you’d expect from a broke, overworked college student - aside from the furniture that came with the place, it was pretty barren. Ellie scanned the little touches you did have - her finger traced over the Funko Pop of Zuko on your bedside table, her eyes lingering on the pile of fantasy books you kept atop your dresser. She smiled at the posters hung crookedly on your walls, depictions of your favorite video games. She hummed again, looking back at you over her shoulder. 
“So many options to choose from,” she murmured, running her finger along your jewelry box. She had her face turned away, so you could only see the corner of her smirk as she lifted the lid, pulling one of your necklaces from its home. You watched her warily as she approached you, the chain dangling from her slim fingers. She stepped behind you, out of your line of sight, and slipped the necklace over your head, the cold metal resting against your collarbone. 
“She looped the chain around her lover’s neck like a collar,” Ellie said. You felt her cool fingers against the back of your neck, hooking around the chain and pulling it gently against your throat. You coughed against the awkward silence; your roommate had always been a little handsy, but this was something else entirely. What the fuck is she doing? you thought. “She pulled it taut against her throat and leaned in to whisper,” you felt Ellie’s lips against your ear, her rough voice sending a chill up your spine when she murmured, “good girl.”
Reaching back, you shoved Ellie’s head away; her laughter echoed through the room as she rounded in front of you, sitting back against your bed and grinning. 
“Oh, you’re so fucking proud of yourself aren’t you?” you teased, trying - and failing - to keep your cheeks from turning red. Your skin felt aflame, a tingle lingering right where Ellie’s lips had pressed to your ear. You rubbed at the spot under the pretense of scratching your head, willing the feeling to go away. 
Your heart was pounding so hard you could hardly hear her when she said, “Hell yeah, I am. I should’ve been an English major. I could write a whole fucking slutty novel and get famous. I'm an expert - I've done enough research.” 
You rolled your eyes at her cocky smile, but Ellie only winked at you. 
This is how your truth or dare games went - with Ellie being far too cocky, prancing around doing whatever dares you could think of and asking any outrageous questions that popped into her pretty little head; and you, simply trying your damnedest to keep up with her. You flailed, flustered, when she asked you about your toy collection, and begrudgingly relented when she dared you to bring out your favorite. Ellie took a shot before you had even finished daring her to text her last hookup (“I’m not reopening that bag of crazy,” she said, scrunching her nose at the taste.) You took a shot when she dared you to go mix all of the liquids in the fridge (which included pickle juice, old broths, and orange juice) into one amalgamation and chug it (“I’d rather chug the rest of the vodka, Els.”) 
“Truth,” you said before Ellie could even ask the question. You were three shots in and could feel that lightness pressing against your temples, just at the threshold of tipsy. You had moved to join Ellie on your bed, where you sat with your back against the headboard and Ellie’s head on your thigh. The vodka bottle was balanced precariously between you. 
Ellie rolled her eyes, but looked up at you and asked, “Out of our friend group, who have you fantasized about the most?” 
She had not even finished her sentence before you served yourself a shot, a few drops splattering on your shirt. Wincing at the taste, you looked back down at Ellie; her eyes were lit up like a Christmas tree, her jaw slack.
“Don’t-” 
“You have to,” she interrupted you, pinching your thigh and grinning when you squirmed away. “You have to tell me. You can’t leave me hanging here - you didn’t even let me finish the question!” 
“Why did you even assume I’ve fantasized about any of our friends-” 
“Because I know you.” She was scrambling up now, unsteady in her movements as she came to her knees in front of you, leaning back against her heels. She planted a firm hand on your thigh - your skin was still warm where her head had been - leaning into it, her eyes drawing so close you could almost see every speck within the hazel. “And I know that bitches like us always have somebody in the group they fantasize about. So, who is it?” 
“Bitches like us?” you repeated, raising your brow. You were sure each line of her palm was going to be branded into your thigh. “So, there’s somebody you think about too?” 
Ellie’s smile was on the very edge of teasing, a small quirk at the corner of her lips that screamed at you just how wrapped around her finger you were - and, somehow, she didn’t even know it. Her voice was low, nothing more than a murmur that you could practically feel in your own chest when she said, “You really wanna know?” You didn’t answer - couldn’t, really, not when her fingers dug into your thigh and you could count each freckle across her nose. You couldn’t answer when she leaned in closer, her warm breath brushing against your cheeks, smelling of the weed you knew she had smoked that afternoon. You could hardly hear her over the rush of your own heart when she whispered, “You’ll just have to ask me.” 
Maybe it was the vodka warming your chest, tingling in your fingers - or maybe it was the way the light from your lamp cast sharp shadows across Ellie’s face, turning her skin into liquid gold - but you did not push her away. Your grip tightened around the neck of the bottle, but you held her gaze when you said, “Truth or dare, Els?” 
Her voice was soft, her half-lidded eyes holding yours as she said, “Truth.” 
“Who have you fantasized about?” The words rushed out of you before you could hesitate.
And for a moment, you believed she would answer. You let yourself believe that she would give you the answer you craved. It prickled at your skin, raising goosebumps along your arm, spreading warmth through your stomach. But your roommate had never been so straight-foward - had never given you an easy answer. She wet her lips, drawing your eyes to her mouth involuntarily, but she only pried the vodka bottle from your fingers. She held your gaze as she raised it to her lips, drinking straight from the bottle without even wincing. 
“I can play that game too, baby.” She backed away, finally giving you a moment to breathe. She settled back against the wall, laying her arms over her knees, the bottle dangling from her fingers. The skin of your thigh still burned, branded with her fingerprints. 
You looked away, huffing out a laugh that you prayed sounded sincere. You could feel her eyes on you when you leaned your head back against the wall, counting the cracks in your ceiling like they were the most interesting thing in the whole world. “It’s getting late, Els,” you said, even as your phone flashed that it wasn’t even nine yet and here you were, too many shots in, your roommate’s presence like a fire blazing in your room. “I should get back to studying.” 
“Do you want to, though?” There was an edge to Ellie’s voice, as though that question was a dare itself. You lifted your head to look at her and found that she was already watching you, her eyes soft in the dim light. 
You took a deep breath - and the vodka must have reached your brain, because before she could ask, you said, “Dare.”
You could see the vodka in the lazy tilt of her smile, in the way her head lolled against the wall. Her eyes were half-lidded, and yet there was something hidden behind her slow, sleepy gaze, something you were too afraid to name - something you were sure was only the imagination of your tipsy fantasies. 
“Close your eyes,” Ellie said, words lazily falling from her lips, as deep and rich as the strings of a guitar. 
It took you several moments longer than usual to process what she had said. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion, as if the two of you were underwater. You shouldn't have felt like this after a few shots - you'd usually only be tipsy at this point. But something about the way the shadows dipped into Ellie's collarbones and the way her shirt rode up, exposing her boxers and the sharp cut of her hips, was intoxicating on its own. 
So it took you several long, heavy moments to say, “What?” 
She chuckled, but there was no malice behind it. There was something soft in the tilt of her head, the way she tilted her chin down to look at you through her lashes. Her hair fell in her face, brushing against her nose; you fought the urge to brush it away, knowing that if you did you wouldn't be able to stop yourself from running your fingers through her hair. You wouldn't be able to stop yourself from grabbing a fistful of the auburn strands- 
“Close your eyes,” she repeated in that same honey-thick voice, breaking you from your thoughts. “For thirty seconds. And don't open them no matter what.” When you only stared at her for several silent moments, she added, “How long have we been friends? Don't you trust me?” 
And the thing was, you did. You trusted her with your entire heart, and so you closed your eyes, and you waited. 
You felt the bed shift next to you but you did not open your eyes. You did not open them when you felt her long fingers grip your shoulder as she struggled to steady herself. You felt her hair first, fine strands brushing against your cheek, smelling of sweat and her shampoo. You did not open your eyes, even when you felt the gentle press of a warm mouth against the side of your neck. You hardly dared to even breathe, your hands tangling in your sheets, afraid that you would not be able to control yourself otherwise. You counted the long, torturous seconds, biting down on your lip when you felt Ellie’s mouth part, the warmth of her tongue pressing against your pulse. 
You had counted to twenty-six when she pulled away, a chill settling over your skin where that warmth had been only seconds ago. When you got to thirty, you opened your eyes to find that Ellie had settled back into her spot, leaning back against the wall. The only sign that she had even moved was the thin sheen over her lips, wet with her own saliva, and a small, pleased smirk. 
You did not allow yourself to think about it, ignoring the way your skin burned where she had touched you as though she were a wildfire. You sounded breathless even to your own ears when you said, in barely more than a whisper, “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.”
“What are we doing here, Ellie?” The words were out before you could stop them, slipping from between your teeth and hanging in the air like helium. The words felt almost tangible, and yet you couldn't grasp them, couldn't draw them back into your throat. 
For a moment, you thought Ellie would grace you with an answer. She opened her mouth, and you thought maybe she would finally stop playing this game and let you breathe. Instead, just like before, she brought the bottle to her lips and held your gaze. You tried not to watch the way her throat moved as she swallowed. 
She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and recapped the bottle, settling it between you. “Truth or dare?” 
“Truth.” You felt you could no longer trust yourself with any dare she gave you. Your hands were already shaking from clenching the sheets.
“How would you rate your last kiss?” 
You squinted at her, confused by the innocence of the question after everything that had happened in the past hour (had it only been an hour?). “My last kiss was with that one girl I met at the bar a few weeks ago. She was drunk and way too sloppy, but she was hot. I guess I'd give it,” you paused, trying to remember the moment past the haze; you couldn't even remember the girl's name, “a six.” 
Ellie raised her eyebrows, her eyes widening. “A six?” She shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. “You’ve got to be fucking with me. A girl like you deserves more than a six.” 
“A girl like me?” Your voice sounded deafening in the quiet. You thought it had started to rain; you could hear the pitter patter on your window, could see the way it broke up the streetlamps outside like a mosaic. 
Ellie was nodding almost absently, watching the rain. Her lips parted, and you didn’t expect her to hesitate before she said, “Yeah. A girl like you… deserves to be kissed like it’s the last gasp of air to someone drowning.” You watched her mouth as she spoke, even as your mind screamed at you to look away. You scolded yourself, screaming to end this now, but your body refused; it ached to draw her near, a tangible pain in your chest. “A girl like you should get one of those movie kisses - you know, like when the hero saves the day and shit and he kisses his girl and it’s like the world didn’t matter as long as he saved her. The kind that has the whole fucking theater holding their breath. A girl like you…. Fuck….” She trailed off her rambling. Ellie ran a rough hand through her hair, making the strands stick up at odd angles, and finally looked at you. There was a fire in her eyes, blazing in the dim light. “You deserve to be kissed like they’ll die if they can’t have you.” 
Something had stopped in your chest - maybe it was your breath, maybe it was your heart. Your blood rushed in your ears, and you feared the thrum of your heartbeat was so loud it filled your entire bedroom. Your traitorous heart pressed at your bedroom walls, filling up the space and leaving room for little else. 
Your voice was only a whisper, and you wanted to kick yourself when you said, “We should really go to bed. I have an exam tomorrow.” 
Your roommate pressed her lips together, and she did not break eye contact as she said, “Dare.” 
You shook your head, looking away from her to try, desperately, to break whatever spell had taken hold of you; but your eyes were drawn back to her as if she were the only fucking light in the dark. You had to get a hold of yourself before you did something you’d regret, but you felt intoxicated with something far stronger than the cheap vodka you had bought from Walmart. 
“You’re drunk, Els,” you said, and you sounded so breathless you may as well have given up then and there. 
Ellie leaned closer, holding your gaze, and you could see the exact shade of desire in her eyes. She was so fucking warm - your head spun from it, heat radiating from her skin when she planted a hand on the bed right next to your hip. Her wrist brushed against the bare skin under your shorts, and you felt her voice vibrating in your chest when she said, “Dare.” 
And it was like she had finally pulled the last fucking thread that made you unravel, because you couldn’t stop yourself - didn’t even think to - before you said, “Kiss me.” 
You only had a second to register the smile pulling at the edges of Ellie’s lips before she grabbed your face and pulled you in to smother it. You had never imagined what kissing Ellie would be like - had never allowed your imagination to wander so far over the edge - but she did not kiss like she was drowning. She kissed with the same slow gentleness as when she played the guitar, her long fingers plucking at the strings with the careful deliberation of a lover. 
And she felt so fucking warm. You were high with it; high with the heat radiating from her fingers pressed to your cheeks; high from the way her breath snaked past your parted lips, gentle huffs of warmth against your skin. Your head swam as you pressed into her, your hands tangling into the fabric of her shirt, fingers unsure even as you ached to pull her closer. 
Ellie pulled back for a moment - for only a moment, but each second her lips weren't on yours caused an ache in your chest. Her eyes hovered inches from yours, so fucking green it was dizzying - though you couldn't see much of the color passed the eclipse of her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed - from the vodka, from something else entirely - her freckles popping against the color. You could only imagine how you looked, could feel the desire written across every inch of your face. 
Your fists tightened in her shirt, and you used the leverage to pull her back into you; and suddenly, it felt like you were the one drowning. You couldn’t breathe as Ellie devoured you, the gentleness replaced with a hunger you hadn’t known lived inside her. She pressed her tongue against the seam of your mouth until you relented, opening up to her, a soft sound escaping your throat when her tongue ran along the roof of your mouth. 
That sound - nothing more than a breathy sigh - ignited something in Ellie. Suddenly, she was all teeth and tongue and hot, hot breath in your mouth, sucking your bottom lip between her teeth. She bit down when a shaky sigh forced its way from your throat, soothing it with her tongue and swallowing the moan it elicited. Her hands were in your hair, the strands twisted between her fingers, and when you bit down on her lip, she pulled - you gasped at the sharp pain on your scalp. 
“Fuck,” she cursed against your lips, and you could feel that single syllable, hot breath in your mouth that you wanted to swallow. She didn’t continue for a long time, couldn’t form any other words past the way her lips made you unravel. Her hands trailed down your shoulders, fingers grazing lightly over the bare skin of your arms, before finding your hips, gripping them in a vice and tugging you closer. “Fuck, come here,” she said, her voice nothing more than a low growl that you felt in your chest. 
And you were drunk - from the cheap vodka and sleep deprivation and Ellie. You were drunk on the way her eyes were eclipsed, her lips red and bitten and swollen, parted so you could feel each exhale against your cheeks. Her eyes were dark, hooded. Her fingers dug into your hips, and you were drunk, but shit, how the hell could you say no to her? How could you possibly say no when she was looking at you like she was starving? 
Her hands guided you closer so you swung a leg over her hips and settled in her lap, your hands braced on her shoulders. She leaned her head back against the wall and just looked at you for several long moments, biting down on her lip. You couldn’t stop watching her mouth, mesmerized as she said, “Fuck, look at you.” 
And then she was kissing you again, her hands gripping your hips like it was a lifeline. Your hands found their way to her hair, curling your fingers in the short locks, using it as leverage to pull her closer. You could feel how each point of your body fit into hers; your thighs against her legs, her hands curling perfectly over the swell of your hips. You could feel the swell of her breasts against your chest, and you so badly wanted to feel her skin against yours. You felt like you’d go crazy from the raw want radiating from your body. 
Ellie’s lips traced a map across your cheek, down your jawline. You tilted your head so she could kiss the hinge of your jaw, the spot right below your ear. She paused there, planting hot, open-mouth kisses across your neck, before her teeth bit down on that sensitive spot, pulling the skin into her mouth, and you practically melted into her. You couldn’t control the sounds falling from your lips like honey, gripping at her hair as she soothed the bruise with her tongue. 
“Ellie….” Your voice was nothing more than a whimper; you swallowed hard and tried again, pressing a hand firmly at her shoulder. “Ellie.” 
She only hummed against your skin, and you could feel the vibration against your pulse. The sound went straight to your stomach and dipped even lower when she bit at your collarbone. 
The next time you said her name, it came out as a moan; you cleared your throat. “We can’t do this - you’re drunk, Els.” 
Your roommate hummed again, but she relented, leaning her head back against the wall to look up at you. And - fuck. Her lips were red and swollen, still wet from the kiss. Her cheeks were flushed, and - God, her eyes. You had never understood the term bedroom eyes, but Ellie looked at you as though she wanted to devour you. Like any second her hands weren’t on you was torture. Like she wanted to bite and kiss and taste every inch of your skin. 
“Truth or dare,” she said, her voice so hoarse you had to clench your thighs around her hips. 
“What?” 
“Truth or dare,” she repeated, her eyes never leaving yours. And this wasn’t part of the game, but you played along anyway, unable and unwilling to tell her no. 
“Truth,” you sighed. 
One of Ellie’s hands traced up your side. She ran her fingers across your collarbone, up your throat, before stopping to cup your jaw, her skin rough against yours. “Do you want this?” 
You nodded, the vodka making it impossible to feel shy. 
“How long have you wanted this?” Ellie’s thumb pressed at the seam of your lips, and you let your mouth fall open. She watched, hypnotized, dipping just the tip of her thumb between your lips before withdrawing. 
It was against the rules - two questions for one truth - but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. “A long fucking time.” Your voice was weak and breathy, and you couldn’t bother to be embarrassed about that either. Your attention had narrowed in on Ellie, and the way her fingers skirted across your chest, the way her other hand gripped your hip - how you could feel the warmth of her thighs between your legs. 
Taking your chin in her hand, she drew you closer, and you could feel her lips moving against yours: “So what the hell is stopping us?” 
This time, when she kissed you, you did melt into her. You gripped her hair in your fists and swallowed the moan it drew from her, shivering when her teeth caught on your lip. She had both hands on your hips again, and she gripped them so hard you were sure you’d find bruises there in the morning in the shape of her fingers. She pulled you closer, pulling your hips down into her; the friction through your pajama shorts made you moan against her lips. 
And you decided to play her game. 
“Truth or dare?” you said, drawing away just enough to see the eclipse of her eyes. 
Ellie, always stubborn, murmured, “Dare.” 
You tugged at the hem of her shirt, your fingers brushing the warm skin beneath; you marveled at the shiver that ran through her body. You ducked your head to kiss along her jaw, pressing the words into her skin. “Take this off.” 
She didn’t waste any time tugging the shirt over her head, tossing it to the floor before skidding her fingers over the bare skin above your shorts. You lifted your arms and let her pull your shirt over your head before realizing you weren’t wearing anything beneath. Who wears a bra to study in their own apartment? 
But you didn’t have a moment to cover your body in embarrassment before Ellie’s lips were on you again, as if it pained her to not taste you for even a moment. Her hands spread across your back, pulling you into her as she peppered hot, open-mouthed kisses across your collar; you hissed when her teeth bit down over your collarbone, soothing the pain with her tongue. 
“Tell me to stop and I'll stop,” Ellie said, her voice muffled as she kissed down over your chest; you shivered when her teeth sank into the skin of your boob, sucking another bruise there. She certainly loved leaving her signature on any inch of your skin that her mouth could reach. 
You groaned low in your chest, your fingers tugging at her hair, pulling a gasp from her lips. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice - breathy and thick with desire - when you said, “Please don’t stop.” 
The next thing you knew, Ellie was shoving you off of her lap; your back hit the mattress, your head just barely missing the headboard, but you couldn’t even think about that. Your roommate was crawling over you, and you were hypnotized by the way her muscles tensed, her arms caging you against the bed. Her skin was fucking obscene, smooth plains stretching for miles, cast in liquid gold in the lamplight.
“God, look at you,” she said again, pressing a kiss to your clavicle. Her hand was like worn clay when it traced a teasing line over your hip. Her voice was muffled against your skin, but you caught the end of her sentence: “- so fucking pretty.” 
Your only response was a choked gasp when Ellie pressed the flat of her tongue to your nipple. You gripped her shoulder, feeling her lips close around you as she sucked your skin into her mouth; you winced when she released it, feeling her teeth graze maddeningly over your nipple. 
“Truth or dare?” she said into your skin, her voice vibrating in your bones. 
You groaned, gripping her shoulder when she licked a line over your other nipple. If you had thought about this (which, if anybody asked, you didn’t), you never would have imagined your roommate being such a fucking tease. 
She hummed, and you could feel the vibration in every nerve. For a moment, you couldn’t find your tongue, your voice caught in your chest until she released your skin with a pop of her lips. She looked up at you, batting her eyes, and dammit if your body didn’t arch, searching for her mouth again. 
Propping herself up on her elbows, she watched you through her lashes, an intoxicating smirk across her lips; they were still shining wetly. She broke you from your thoughts when she murmured, “Use your words, angel.” 
Your thighs clenched around her words, automatically and unconsciously. You were sure you could get drunk on the way her voice filled the room, rough and rich as the chords she played. It was through clenched teeth that you said, setting your pride aside, “Dare.” Your cheeks burned when it came out as a moan. 
You could feel her smile against your skin as she kissed down your stomach, silent for several long, torturous moments. You felt her teeth sink into your hip bone briefly, your hips jerking at the sensation. It earned you a chuckle before you felt Ellie’s hands pressing your hips into the mattress, holding you still. You groaned low in your throat when you felt her tongue against the skin over the band of your shorts, licking a stripe right above the fabric before taking the elastic between her teeth and tugging. You jumped when she released it, the band snapping back against your skin. You didn’t have to look at her to see the sparkle in her eye. 
You swore your heart stopped completely when she murmured, “I wanna go down on you.” 
Despite this game she was insistent on playing, it wasn’t said like a dare; it was said like a question, or a request. There was no expectation behind it. Ellie was asking, you realized with dizzying satisfation, for permission. 
“Fuck.” It came out as only a breath, a whisper against your tongue. Your fingers ached from gripping the sheets and she hadn’t even touched you yet. “Fuck,” you tried again, and it was a groan this time but at least it was louder. “Yeah. Yeah, please, fuck.” Words were just falling from your lips because when you looked down, Ellie - your roommate, your friend - was watching you, propped between your legs with that fucking smirk, and how could you possibly string together a complete sentence? 
And Ellie… didn’t. She didn’t follow up on her dare. Not immediately, at least. No, she took her sweet fucking time - always so damn precise, taking her time in hooking her fingers over the band of your shorts. She pulled them down so slowly you could feel every inch down your legs. And then you were lying beneath your roommate in nothing but your underwear - and dammit, if you had known this would be happening, you would have opted for something a little sexier than a cotton pair with constellations on them. 
Ellie smiled. “Cute,” she said, before sinking her teeth into the flesh of your thigh. You were thankful it was cold out - you’d have to wear layers to hide all the places her mouth had been. 
Your roommate ducked her head, and you gasped when you felt her press a featherlight kiss against the fabric of your underwear, right where warmth pooled between your legs. 
You huffed, twisting the sheets between your fingers. “God, you’re such an asshole - fuck-” You were cut off when Ellie licked a stripe up your panties, warm tongue pressing against your throbbing clit. You moaned at the relief, feeling the wetness of her mouth through the fabric. It wasn’t enough - you needed to feel her against you, needed her tongue to unravel you piece by piece. You pressed your hips down against her lips but her hands held you in place. 
You huffed out a breath, her name slipping from your lips when you moaned. “Ellie….” 
And then she was yanking your underwear down your hips; you gasped, lifting your ass to help her shove them down. She had only gotten them just below your knees before she was pressing back in, too impatient to finish the job. 
And - fuck, her mouth. Ellie’s mouth was fucking magic. You moaned into the quiet room when she pressed the flat of her tongue against your pussy, licking a stripe between your lips. You couldn’t control the curses slipping between your teeth when her tongue made teasing circles around your clit until you were whimpering, aching for her. She had released your hips to dig her fingers into your thighs, nails digging in, and you’d surely have crescent-shaped bruises there tomorrow - even more to cover up. You pressed your hips down against her, groaning, her name only a whisper: “Fuck, Els-” 
And then she finally, finally, gave you what you wanted. 
Ellie ate pussy like it was her fucking job, like she was clocking into a shift and working her ass off for those tips. She lapped at your clit like she was starving, pressing her lips against you until you were dizzy, your entire body tuned in to the warmth of her tongue and the gentle graze of her teeth. You shuddered when you felt that tongue press into your core, a brief pressure that pulled curses from your lips, words tripping over each other: “Ah - fuck - fuck, Ellie - oh my God, fuck-” 
It didn’t take long for tension to build in your stomach. You were intoxicated; you were tipsy, yes, but something about the way Ellie moved her tongue - long, slow circles around your clit, using the flat of her tongue to draw you closer to the edge - was like a damn drug. You got what you wanted: She unraveled you with her tongue, tugging curses from your lips. You could hear your own moans echoing against your quiet bedroom and you couldn’t even feel embarrassed about it. 
Ellie took your clit between her lips and sucked, pulling you into her mouth and-
A long, low moan pulled at your throat when you came. Your hand came up to grip at her hair, fingers twisting in the soft strands. She moaned when you pulled, and the vibration against every nerve pushed you further; you could feel your orgasm in your chest, could feel it trembling in your thighs. 
Ellie worked you through it, her tongue dancing against you as you rode out your high. She didn’t stop, pressing her lips against you, dipping her tongue into your core again, until you were shoving against her head, your hips bucking at the sensitivity. 
When she raised her head, she was grinning, that wicked, infuriating grin she always had when she was pleased with herself. She rested her head against your thigh for a moment, watching you as you blinked the stars from your eyes. You relaxed your fingers in her hair, smoothing your thumb across her temple. 
The only thing you could say, breathless and dizzy, was, “Fuck, Els. What the fuck?” 
Ellie laughed, the sound unarming the silence around you, the anxiety of what this meant. She pressed a kiss to your thigh, right over the little indentations where her nails had dug into the flesh, and just said, “Yeah?” 
You giggled, tugging at her hair gently. You looked down at your roommate - and you didn’t know what this meant for the two of you, but that could be a problem for tomorrow, when you weren’t drunk and sleep-deprived and naked beneath your friend. For now, you only said, “Truth or dare?” 
Ellie blinked, raising an eyebrow, and said, “Truth.” 
You considered not asking for a moment, unsure if you wanted to know, but curiosity pressed at you until you asked, “What do I taste like?”
The grin spread wider, Ellie’s eyes sparkling as she pushed herself up. She crawled up your body, taking a moment to press a kiss to your stomach, to the bruises she had left littered across your chest - you moaned when she took a nipple briefly into her mouth. She kissed her way up your neck, across your jaw, sucking at the skin beneath your ear - another fucking bruise to worry about. God, it was like she wanted her signature on you, branded in every inch of your skin. 
Her face hovered an inch above yours, propping herself up on her elbows, smirking. She leaned in close, leaving room for you to turn away if you wanted. Instead, you tilted your chin up and kissed her again. 
You wrinkled your nose at the metallic taste of yourself against her lips. You didn’t like it, the way your own scent wafted over you. But fuck if you didn’t open your mouth when you felt Ellie’s tongue pressing at the seam of your lips. She moaned when your tongue ran along the roof of her mouth, pressing into the taste of you. 
When she pulled back, her eyes were soft, her cheeks flushed. “Like that.” 
You rolled your eyes, turning your face away; you had to admit, even if you hated how you tasted - tasting yourself against her tongue sent a wave of heat between your legs all over again. You only said, “Gross.” 
Ellie leaned in again, and you felt her lips ghosting against your jaw. You felt her breath against your skin when she whispered, “Truth or dare?” 
You lifted your chin to give her access to your neck, sighing when she pressed a kiss against your pulse. “Truth.” 
Her breath huffed against you when she chuckled before raising her head to meet your eyes again, that same cocky smile spread across her lips. “Was that better than a six?” 
“Oh, fuck off.” You shoved against her until she rolled off of you. 
She flopped back against the mattress, still laughing, but she was holding her arm out for you. You only hesitated for a moment - but even if she was your roommate, she just made you see stars, so it’s not like cuddling would push against the boundary you had already broken. You curled into her, laying your head on her chest, the sports bra she was still wearing soft against your cheek.
You sighed, skimming your fingertips against the warm skin of her stomach. “Yeah,” you whispered before you could stop yourself. “Definitely better than a six.” 
You were starting to fall asleep, your eyes growing heavy, your study notes effectively forgotten. You burrowed into her further, wrapping your arm around her and pressing your fingers against her hip. You briefly wondered where the vodka bottle had ended up in the mess, but Ellie didn’t seem in any particular hurry to untangle herself from you, so you figured it could wait - surely it would be okay if she slept in your room for one night.
Just before you dozed off, you heard Ellie murmur, “You left the window open.” 
3K notes · View notes
togrowoldinv · 5 months
Text
‘Talk’
Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader
You’re sleeping with your best friend’s mom who has been keeping quite the secret from you
Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, oral (W receiving), fingering (R receiving), Wanda being a little mean
Note: Milf!Wanda is back! Y’all can read this as a sequel to Best Friend’s Mom or as a stand alone. I hope you enjoy it!
Milf Wanda Masterlist, Main Masterlist
Tumblr media
Ever since that first night with Wanda, you haven’t stopped thinking about her. You’ve been meeting up with her at least once a week to ‘talk.’
That’s what you’ve been calling it over text so it doesn’t look suspicious to anyone who might see it. Your best friend is still clueless to you sleeping with her mom.
You’d be lying if you said you felt bad about sneaking around. If anything, it makes you feel good. And the feeling sets Wanda’s skin on fire. You can tell by the way she devours you every single time.
Wanda asked you to meet yo with her tonight to talk, so when you got out of class you got changed and left campus. Your roommate, and best friend, watched you leave with a shake of her head. She thinks you’re just hooking up with some random girl.
When you arrive at Wanda’s house, she opens the door with a grin.
“Hey sweetheart,” Wanda says. “Come on in.” You walk inside and she keeps her distance from you. You realize that her other kids are still in the house. “The boys are just heading out with their uncle.”
“Okay,” you say. “I’ll just- um-”
“You can go wait in my room, baby,” Wanda says.
You nod and walk to her bedroom. Closing the door behind you, you sit on the bed. You hear Wanda outside the door talking to her brother and kids.
Something tells you to get undressed and wait under the covers for her. You get feelings like this a lot around Wanda. You just randomly feel the urge to do things.
You think maybe it’s intuition.
Wanda eventually comes to her bedroom. She waltzes over to the bed, smiling at you being under the blankets.
“Hi there,” Wanda says. She climbs onto the bed and straddles your body over the sheets. “How’s my babygirl doing?”
“A little stressed about finals, but I’m okay,” you tell her.
“Oh, you’ll be just fine, malyshka,” Wanda replies.
She brushes her hands over your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss. The covers over your chest begin to fall down as Wanda deepens the kiss.
“Look at you, sweetheart. You’re so ready for me already,” Wanda says.
“Mhm,” you hum as you kiss her again.
She pulls the covers away from your upper body to reveal your bare chest. Wanda doesn’t even question it.
“So beautiful,” she says.
Wanda grips your breasts and kisses down your neck. You practically shiver in her arms at the feeling of the her hands on you.
You reach for her shirt and lift the soft material over her head. Wanda’s lacy bra makes your heart skip.
“Do you want to suck on Mommy?” Wanda asks you. Her voice is raspy and thick with lust.
“Please,” you answer.
Wanda undoes her bra as you lean down to suck on her nipples. You lick at the mound and look up at Wanda through your eyelashes.
“Yes baby,” Wanda moans out. “Just like that.”
You switch breasts and Wanda holds the back of your head to keep you from moving again. Her other hand drifts down your body. It lands between your legs. Wanda is pleased to feel your bare pussy against her hand.
“Such a good girl. So fucking wet for mommy,” Wanda says.
“All for you,” you mumble against her chest. You know she wants to hear it.
She grabs your hair and pulls you away from her chest into a searing kiss. Her finger plunges into your pussy at the same time. Wanda bites your lip to distract you from the feeling.
“Fuck,” you say against her lips.
“Language,” Wanda scolds you. “Ride my fingers, baby.”
“Yes ma’am.”
Wanda moves her fingers in and out of you as you move your hips. She keeps eye contact with you as she quickly moves you closer to your high.
“Are you going to come for me?” Wanda asks.
“Yes,” you say.
“Try again,” Wanda says, slowing her pace down to a painfully slow crawl. She grips your face with her lanky hand. “Or I won’t let you come.”
“Please, mommy,” you say. “I want to come for you.”
“Hm, I don’t know baby.”
“Please? I’ll do anything,” you say.
“Oh?”
You nod. Too focused on your pleasure to respond with words. She’s picked up her pace again.
“I know exactly what you can do for me,” Wanda says. “Come for me first, sweet girl.”
You let yourself go and come hard against Wanda’s fingers.
“There you go,” Wanda says. “Good job, honey.”
Wanda kisses you until you can’t breathe. You go back for more anyways, but Wanda pushes you back down onto the bed. She takes her pants off and shifts to place her wet pussy over your face. Not a bad view from here at all.
“I want to ride your face,” Wanda says. “And you will not stop until I’ve came. Okay?”
“Okay,” you reply, but then add, “Ride my face, mommy.”
Wanda grins and begins to move her hips against your lips. Her thighs on each side of your side are silky and soft. Your hands grip at her ass as she grinds.
“That’s it, honey. Show me how much you love tasting me,” Wanda says.
You hum against her as you continue to eat her out. Her wetness is all over your mouth. Wanda holds onto the headboard and picks up her pace. You can hardly breathe but you don’t mind. Not with such an alluring woman in your face.
“Fuck, I’m coming,” Wanda says without warning.
The grunts and groans she lets out are music to your ears. She’s so perfect.
Wanda comes down from her high and shifts off your face. She lays down next to you, turning to kiss your cheek before she grabs your hand at her side.
“You’re amazing,” Wanda says dreamily. “I really enjoy our talks.”
“Me too,” you say, still breathless from eating her out.
“Y/n,” Wanda begins.
“Hm?”
“Nevermind,” she says.
“What is it, Ms. Maximoff?” You ask her.
“Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Let’s just go to sleep.”
You snuggle into her chest and close your eyes.
She wants to tell you the truth about her secret powers, but she reads your mind and sees how sleepy you are.
Wanda realizes she left the door cracked and she can’t sleep with it open. She uses her red tendrils to shut the door, thinking it would be harmless but the door makes a loud noise when it shuts.
“What was that?” You ask with a start.
“Oh, just the door,” Wanda says. “Must’ve been a draft or something.”
You narrow your eyes at her obvious lie. You don’t know what proof you have but you can sense that the door shutting was something more.
For now, you brush it off. But something tells you Wanda has many secrets. All will reveal itself in due time.
1K notes · View notes
bluelinen · 20 days
Text
My Camboy
Tumblr media
Pairing: Cam boy!Choso x AFAB!Reader Content/Warnings: smut, masturbation, no penetration, female anatomy, no use of y/n, porn no plot, well.. very little plot at the end
MDNI
Ting~*
You've always had this guilty pleasure for as long as you could remember. Since your very first time stumbling across that incredibly risqué audio.
You loved noises. Loved hearing the hoarse animalistic groans of pleasure as one grasped desperately for a release, strings of uncouth words and phrases dripping from a yearning mouth.
The carnal coarseness of such a voice, uncontrolled, unrestrained. It's what's led you down a path such as this, where that ting that notifies you of when his stream begins is the one thing you look forward to almost every week.
You don't see his face on stream, if you did you wouldn’t know what you’d do. It’d probably scare you shitless.
Not that he’s an ugly guy or anything. Quite the opposite really, you found the view of his face quite pleasant to look at every morning you saw him in your shared apartment.
See that was the thing. He’s your roommate.
Which meant that if you were brave enough or, you suppose, just plain crazy you could open the door from across your own and fully witness the complete uncensored revelry of Choso’s bare chest as his fingers brush across the button which makes your screen as well as your eyes light up.
A flurry of messages roll through the side bar proclaiming their greetings. A bunch of ‘hey's’, ‘hi’s’, ‘omg you’re so fine’s’. Even a few small gifts.
Yours was the largest of them, you made sure of that.
The bottom half of his face quirks up in a small smile as he whispers into the camera, his voice deep and airy. “It’s so nice to see all of you here..”
He reaches a hand up into his hair, out of sight from the camera, and a set of snaps from elastic releases his raven locks from the signature spiky style they usually were in, strands languishing comfortably along his shoulders. “I really hope that all of you have had a nice day today..”
He starts trailing a hand from his neck slowly down his broad chest. “Cause it’s been such a long.. long day for me y’know.”
“My muscles feel so tense..” His voice is a hypnotizing lull. “Tired too. I've been needing to find a way, a good way, to sooth this dulling ache.”
You yourself smile knowingly towards your screen.
He smiles back. “I’m sure you could help me with that though, couldn’t you?”
“Tell me you’ve had such a long tiring day too.. “ His sultry voice murmurs as his fingers inch down further towards his waist, his touch achingly slow, seamless as silk.
A spry fleet of comments surge in answer.
“The day is so hard isn’t it? So demanding..” He palms a growing bulge covered by the thin fabric of the shorts he’s wearing.
“We deserve a good release, don’t we?”
He fingers the edge of his waistband.
The chime of several gifts being given causes him to smile.
“Mm.. that’s what i like to hear.”
A low hum leaves his throat as he continues his faithful touch along his crotch and you watch with anticipation, waiting for the very moment he's decided, as you have already, that enough is enough.
It only takes a few minutes before he reaches his waning limit, a soft moan and quick snap of the waistband reveals the honest erection. Large and familiar it stands from it’s restraints proudly, clear substance already glistening from the sore crimson tip.
Choso smears the clear liquid along the head of his cock like a lubricant and you wonder how there's already so much, a small somewhat delusional part of you desperately wants to think that it's from the thought of you.
He begins moving his long fingers along his length, gentle smooth strokes coaxing a light train of moans to leave his lips. Each lithe sound causing an increasing tension to form between your legs.
“Ah.. i really wish you were here to help me with this..” He says to the camera, his voice light as he steadily increases his pace. “Fuck.”
He slides his fist from base to tip to base— and back again, low strained little whimpers following every stroke of his hardened cock sending a burning feeling of arousal to your core, little sparks of lightning dancing along the surface of your sodden clit. It’s only a matter of seconds before your hand reaches down to sooth your own aches, the onslaught of sounds desperately attracting one to the other like some burning magnet.
Sliding the pad of your finger along the soaking slit, building up your pace slowly, softly as you try to match the increasing intensity of his touch with your fingers upon your own wet cunt.
“Can you.. Mm.. Can you see how hard I am for you?” He groans as he suddenly stops to display the veiny painfully hard erection. He sits back lounging in his desk chair and it throbs and jerks impressively, engorged at the tip, almost pleading for release. Each involuntary jerk sends a flutter through your core and with a finger on your clit you pause, desperately wishing for him to continue so that you could also.
“I need.. ugh.. I need you- fuck.” He whimpers gingerly, smiling into the camera.
A dastardly scheme of course, but one you fall for every time. A click of the button with your free hand sends the swift notification across the screen notifying him of your donation as well as the donations of many many others, giving up your hard earned coins just for the man to continue stroking his hardon. It’s an awful cycle. But it's one you seemingly can’t stop. Audios, videos, they just didn’t cut it anymore, not in the same way.
Maybe it was the interactiveness, the control.
It was something magical about the way his cock twitches and how his veiny painted hands do something sinful about it while he whines and moans into the mic. You felt like you’d honestly sell your very soul just to see to it that the red rosy tip on your screen chases its unrelenting release every single time.
It allowed for you to do the same. And it felt so good, so damn good every single time.
Barely a minute and the flow of gifts had his fingers find firm fit around his shaft again, continuing the erotic train of degenerate touch. “Aah you always come through..” A chain of hitched sighs. “I Mm.. always know I can count on you.”
His pace only becomes faster and so does yours, his lovely voice, groans and ruts pulling you closer and closer to your peak as he chases his.
“Fuck i’m close.." He moans. "so so close.”
You can tell. The way his sweet lips part and quiver, wisping breath letting out those saccharine sounds.
The sticky head of his twitching cock ready to spill rich fluid.
It made your tongue swipe across your bottom lip in anticipation.
“Mm yeah.. I know you love this, you love.. ah.. you love watching this.” He releases a sequence of pitiful little haggard breaths. “You close? You about to c-cum? fuck.”
You sync every last stroke along your clit with his on his dick. Sharing every lewd moan and sigh, it’s just you and him in this dark little room.
A string of ineligible words fall from his sweet lips as he continues.
“Let’s cum together, ‘k-kay?”
You were getting there, a sheen of sweat forming across your damp forehead. You wanted to release, to come undone but not without him. You wanted.. no needed to hear him before you finished, it made the end all the more divine.
“Come on..” Your lips mutter softly under your breath. “Come on..”
“Oh God- oh fuck-”
He exclaims with a jerk of his hips before he comes undone with a final forceful tug, a delicious cry, thick milky spurts of cum wastefully flowing from the tip and pooling onto his thigh.
A dear part of you wishes you were actually there to put it to some good use.
Your brows pinch, nose scrunching as you let out a final moan. The good shivers running through you in great waves through your orgasm. You smile towards your screen, rush of honey swelling in your chest.
As you look down at your own mess, clear pearly liquid languishly dripping from the tips of your fingers you think.
Oh..
'this is becoming a bit of a problem, isn't it?’
*-*-*
Your teeth clink against cool glass as you promptly gulp down cold liquid, the crisp clear swill of the water that slips down your throat revitalises your body, clearing your mind.
A clear mind, god you needed that.
The glass is soon emptied and you rush to the sink for another one, you’re twisting the tap open when you hear the familiar footsteps of your roommate walk into the kitchen with a mumble.
You turn your head to find the man approaching you and you blank, panicking a little. It wasn't usually you found yourself face to face with the man you had just fucked yourself to a few minutes ago. It wasn't exactly the best scenario to find yourself in.
Fuck.
It was only a moment ago that Choso sent his goodbyes to the chat and it looks it with the light pink hue roaming the warm skin of his cheeks, the relaxed haze over his lazily lidded eyes. He looks so dazed.
Despite your dismay at his sudden appearance you can't help but appreciate the expression so honest on his face. The one thing about his streams was that you'd never witness the aftermath of those escapades, truly it was a shame.
He looks so fine after being fucked out.
Choso strolls into the kitchen with the cover of his usual cool look of indifference but you were very well aware of the many other expressions he was capable of making. From the nose down anyway. The sounds he was capable of making. It makes you have to stop from audibly swallowing as you hurriedly look away. You were going crazy.
Your breath catches when he comes ever closer, leaning towards you, dishevelled black mane of hair brushing forward as he does. You swallow. Do you look suspicious? Does he suspect anything?
You feel a rush of water overflowing from the forgotten glass, drip dropping along your fingers and into the kitchen sink, almost jumping as his arm reaches out— and passes you to reach the empty glass on the countertop behind you.
He narrows his eyes slightly at your flinching. “Something wrong?”
"No!" You exclaim immediately before realising you've overreacted a little.
You gave a false little cough before repeating the word. "No. I'm good." A little suave this time.
"Good?" He raises a brow.
"Yeah-yeah." You insist as you hurriedly turn off the tap. Taking your glass and swigging a sequence of urgent gulps. "Just a little jumpy today."
"Right.." Choso looks a little unsure but chooses not to press further as you cleared way for him to get to the sink.
As the water pours into his glass he suddenly remembers something and is about to say whatever that something is to you before you make like a magic trick and disappear into thin air, retreating immediately to your room before you can make a further fool of yourself.
Curling up into a ball upon your many blankets and hugging your favourite pillow underneath your chin you thrash around in your shame for a while before sighing and burying your head into the pillow.
God one day.
One day you really were gonna get caught.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: First post here rawr👹 genuinely think i'm tweaking, hope y'all enjoyed it though ^^
Art drawn by @//Umbra3terna on tumblr & edited by me :33
729 notes · View notes
ellebakers · 1 year
Text
☆ Jealous boy | Part one (+18)
Ethan Landry x reader
PART TWO
Summary : if he can’t have you, no one else can, especially not chad.
Warnings : violence + mention of death + blood + mention of sex + voyeurism + y/n x chad + cheating.
Tumblr media
Ethan had never wanted to kill chad so much as he did now. that asshole was in the next room fucking you. and you moaned louder and louder, but could he blame you ? no never. after all, you thought ethan was in class. and hearing you moan was the most melodious sound he'd ever heard. but it had to be him who had to make you scream. you should call out his name, not his roommate's.
after the woodsboro murders, you and chad got closer, after a while you became a couple, and since then, you have been living bliss.
"shit. chad i'm gonna cum."
"come on baby. cum for me."
ethan rolled his eyes. "baby" that guy didn't deserve to call you that, he's not good enough for you.
when ethan and chad became roommates, the meeks-martin’s son introduced you to each other. that day, ethan will remember it for the rest of his life, you wore a flowered dress that came above your knee, your hair fell in a cascade and you had blocked a pair of sunglasses in it. the brunette thought he was dead and in heaven you looked like an angel.
after that, the more the days passed and the more he fell in love with you. you were so nice to him, always a smile, always a kind word for him. for a while he thought he had a chance with you, until the day he saw chad kissing you. it was when he saw this that he went to his father's house and said "I want to do this, I want to avenge richie." his brother's revenge was just a pretext, he knew it himself, all he wanted was to watch that asshole chad bleed out. after that he could come and comfort you with his words and with his dick. you will be his forever.
one last moan louder than the others and he knew you had come. he never touched you, but he knew when you were done and when you were faking it. more than once he had heard you pretend. like when chad wanted to do it and you didn't dare say no to him, so you faked it to please him. but after chad left to take a shower, you finished the job yourself. ethan had heard you moan silently, and just imagining you touching yourself had made him hard.
that night, he had closed his eyes and then he had let his fantasies take over by jerking off. thinking of you.
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
that's it. ghostface was back. your nightmare was beginning again. you had just gotten off work and were walking towards your car when samantha called you with the news. after hanging up with her, you got in and turned the key to start, but it seems that your car doesn't want to run.
you groaned and threw your head back against the headrest. you picked up your phone and dialed your boyfriend's number. it rang but no one picked up. you then looked in your contact list and called ethan.
on the first ring, he picked up.
"hi y/n."
you smiled without realizing it. you didn't want to admit it but his voice brought you comfort.
"hi ethan, i'm sorry to bother you, but my car broke down. i tried to call chad but he's not answering. i was wondering if you could pick me up."
"yes of course, are you at work ?" he asked you
"I'm in the parking lot in front of the building yes."
"I'm coming."
"thank you ethan."
"no need to thank me. wait for me in your car."
"ok."
he hung up and you put your phone on the passenger seat. it was about ten minutes by car from chad and ethan's apartment, you just had to wait ten short minutes, you'll be fine.
time passed and you started freaking out. at each outside noise you jumped. you took deep breaths but nothing helped your state. suddenly, a ding indicated a new message.
you took your phone and an unknown number appeared, followed by a photo and a message. "
Looks like chad has other things to do.
you pressed on the photo to enlarge it, but you quickly regretted your decision. chad, your chad was shirtless, his head between Tara's legs, on your bed in the Carpenter sisters' apartment.
you put down your phone and started crying. you had been stabbed a year ago, but it hurt even more.
again your phone rang, but to indicate an incoming call from an unknown number, without the slightest hesitation you picked it up.
you swallowed your saliva so as not to burst into tears.
"it's you, isn't it ?"
the deep voice that had traumatized you was heard.
"yes."
"If you want to kill me, then go ahead, I'll let it go. I'm sick of all this."
"you've had enough of what y/n ?"
you closed your eyes and let the tears flow. "amber and richie killed me a year ago, ever since i've been wandering around like a fucking ghost so i'm the one asking you. kill me."
there was a long silence, as if the person on the other side of the phone was thinking. "no. I'm not going to kill you. you're going to live, and live for yourself, not for those assholes you call your friends who don't deserve you, and especially not for that son of a bitch boyfriend."
then he hung up. It was the most honest exchange you've had in a year with anyone.
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
that evening, ethan arrived, seeing your face streaming with tears, he asked you what was going on so you told him everything. putting aside your discussion with ghostface.
you were sitting in ethan's car when he asked you
"where are you going to sleep ?"
you hadn't thought about it, but now that he brought it up, you had nowhere to go. you couldn't come home and act like nothing was with tara. and you couldn't sleep at ethan's since his roommate was your boyfriend who cheated on you.
"I have no idea." You think for a while then an idea comes to you "Can you drop me off at the hotel ? I think it'll be fine."
The car came to a red light and he turned to you.
"Okay, but I stay with you."
You shook your head, smiling slightly "Ethan you don't have to, you should-"
He cut you off by raising his hand "Ghostface is outside and there's no way I'm leaving you alone."
you were silent and then nodded. Ethan, happy that his plan was working, drove off again when the light turned green.
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
obviously the only hotel available only had one bed in the room, but that was better than nothing so you convinced ethan to share the bed.
you growled "I'm dying to take a shower, but I don't have clean clothes."
ethan took off his t-shirt and handed it to you. you couldn't help staring at his sculpted body. he hid a lot of things under his shy boyish air.
"here, take this." he brought you back to reality and you shook your head slightly to scare away the dirty ideas that were merging in your head. you thanked him and left for the bathroom. you undressed and put your laundry in your work bag. the hot water that attacked your skin relieved you, you passed the shower head of your whole body, having fun adjusting the water pressure, then your mind thought of ethan and his body of gods. you should have thought about your conversation with ghostface or chad and tara who were probably still having sex in your bed, but ethan was invading your thoughts and without realizing it you put the water pressure to maximum and slipped it between your legs. the feeling was so good that you let out a moan, you continued to pass the shower head between your legs and instinctively you pressed it against your core and rubbed yourself up and down against it, you closed your eyes, feeling the orgasm coming , you were on the verge of cumming when Ethan knocked on the door.
"um, yes, I'm done, I'm coming."
great, another ruined orgasm.
you rinsed off and got out of the shower. once dry and dressed you went back to the room where ethan was sitting on the edge of the bed. you approached him and you share an embarrassed smile, you sat next to him and let the silence settle between you two.
he cleared his throat "um, i'm so sorry about chad. i didn't believe him like that."
you exhaled loudly "me neither."
he half turned to you "but I'm pretty happy it's over between you guys."
you frown "what ?"
"he doesn't deserve you. honestly you're the nicest, smartest, prettiest girl I know. you deserve someone who treats you right, someone like." then he stopped realizing that you were watching him.
you put a hand on his thigh "go ahead, continue ethan."
the position of your hand on his thigh distracted him but he tried not to show anything. "someone like me." he whispered.
and that's all you needed, you took his face in your hands and kissed him, his hands come to rest on your hips automatically. he pulled you on him, you put your legs on each side of him and you sat on him, something hard was felt against your pussy completely naked since your underwear was in your bag, you continued to embrace. he passed his tongue against your lips as if to ask permission so you opened your mouth and he inserted his tongue inside in order to dance with yours.
his cock was getting harder and harder so you decided to test his urge and you rubbed against him, making you moan against him, he pushed himself off you and threw his head back while growling. "you're going to kill me y/n." you took advantage of this opportunity to suck and lightly bite his neck, which made him moan. hearing it sent an electric charge through you. chad wasn't vocal during the act, and that disappointed you a bit, so hearing ethan the being made you wet. "I rather hope that it is not you who will kill me after having fucked me." you tell him about the joke but his gaze darkens, he takes your face in his hands. "I will never let anyone hurt you, you and me are forever." you were going to answer but he passed his hand between your legs and started to play with your clitoris, the sensation made you moan loudly, you closed your eyes and put your head on his shoulder.
his breathing was getting faster and faster as he inserted one and then two fingers inside you. "You're so fucking wet. All this just for me ?"
you nodded against him but your answer did not suit him, with his other hand he slightly pulled your hair back to make you look at him. you never thought he could be so dominating, but you loved it.
"Are you wet for me ?"
"Yes Ethan."
He looked at your lips smiling "Perfect."
suddenly he withdrew his fingers and swapped positions pinning you to the mattress. he took both of your hands and brought them above your head.
"don’t move."
he got up slightly and took off his belt, which he wrapped around your wrists and squeezed tightly to tie them. you stared at him, surprised, like the shy ethan you knew was gone. he got up, while looking at you he knelt at the end of the bed, then he spread your thighs with both hands, he took one and put it on his shoulder, you gasped when his tongue came into contact with your pussy, you started to move your pelvis for a little more friction but he put a firm hand on your belly, preventing you from moving as he continued his attacks chaining: sucking and licking. you wanted to touch him but your bound hands prevented you, you writhed in pleasure and moaned louder and louder as he devoured you until your orgasm invaded you.
You were trying to catch your breath when he got up, you didn't see him but while he was devouring you, he opened his fly and lowered his pants and his boxers and he started jerking off, you were watching his cock hard and biting your lip "let me help you with that ethan." he chuckled lightly shaking his head "I want it inside you sweetie."
you smiled at him and spread your legs "so what are you waiting for"
he didn't wait any longer to sink into you, and that night you didn't sleep much, ethan took you, your back to the mattress, your legs around your waist. then from behind, a handful of your hair in your hands, or even sitting on him, her back turned to him. you stopped counting after your fourth orgasm.
✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘ ✘
the next morning you were woken up by your phone vibrating, you opened your eyes, the daylight attacking you then you strove to find your phone, once in hand you picked up.
"Y/n!" Sam was screaming crying
"Sam, what’s going on ?" You got up and looked for ethan's t-shirt which had been taken off when in the middle of the night while in the bathroom he had taken you against the wall.
She continued to cry. "It's Chad and Tara, they're dead."
You froze and dropped your phone when you saw the ghostface costume hanging next to the bathroom mirror.
Ethan came up behind you and hugged you. "Now it's you and me my love."
4K notes · View notes
onelittlespiral · 7 months
Note
Hey dude, I'm just a lil bro looking for a big bro to take care of me in all sorts of ways but all I'm stuck with is my lousy nerd of a roommate. Could you help me out?
FML: Fraternize
Tumblr media
My roommate was… chill all things considered. I don’t know, he was just the random guy that I got stuck with when all my bros decided to move into the house and I needed someone to take the lease with. Scruffy, for sure. A bit out of shape. He said he used to play soccer in high school. Cute, but that was about it. Nowadays he was just getting his degree in English. Just a guy. But I didn’t want just another guy.
I tried to be friends with the guy, but he always just blew me and my boys off. He would just say he was too busy studying or playing some video game to come out to the gym with us or hang at the frat. I finally decided I was fed up. I needed my roommate to be more than a rando in my house. I needed a bro. And the fraternity had some resources to make that happen.
They usually keep this kinda stuff for pledges who start stepping out of line, but my buddy slipped me the files that they show to help guys get in line. I don’t remember if I ever saw them myself… what ever. It was a series of videos that promised to turn any guy into a bro in no time flat. So, one night, I put the tapes on when my roommate was home:
“Hey man, I’ve gotta watch these for class, mind if I slip them on?”
“No problem, I’ll just hang out in my bedroom.”
“Actually, it may be something you would like. You should stay. Here, you chill here and I’ll listen while I cook. I’ll make enough to split.”
I turned the first tape on and went to cook up some chicken and rice. In the other room, I heard the video beginning. It wasn’t long before I started hearing my roommate responding to the commands:
You are loyal to your bros.
“I am loyal to my bros.”
When you are around them you feel relaxed.
“When I am around them I feel relaxed”
The gym feels like your second home.
“The gym feels like my second home.”
The frat is life. You are made to be loyal to the frat.
“I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
They kept pushing him in the background while I finished cooking some food. When I walked back into the room, static filled the screen as my roommate stared into space, drool dripping from his mouth. I turned of the TV and he seemed to come to his senses.
“Hey, sup bro? Got the fuel?”
Already he was much better, “Yeah man, chicken and rice.”
“Hell yeah, gotta get a good workout in before getting my homework done.”
We ate quickly and started getting ready for the gym.
“Hey, bro, you think they are still taking new pledges? I’ve been meaning to apply to your frat!”
I was shocked at how quick the progress had been, “Yeah man. I’ll hook you up with my peeps tomorrow.”
“Sweet, let me finish getting ready and we can go.”
Dang those videos were quick. Even the way he carried himself was so different. This is the bro I needed.
Tumblr media
The week went on and we kept working out. I hooked my roommate up with the pledge master and he quickly started falling in with the bros. We worked out, partied, did almost everything together now. I gave the rest of the tapes back to my guy who gave them to me. He said he needed them for a few guys who had gotten a little hands-y with some girls at the last party. I was fine to get them back, I didn’t think there would be any more issues with my roommate.
The year flew by until it was time for spring break. I had opted to be my roommate’s big and done all the usual hazing and shit with him. Had to keep him on his A game, I wasn’t going to go east on him. The spring break frat trip was a rite of passage for the incoming pledges. As much as I wanted to go, I had plans to visit California with my partner. We were having a great time, chilling at the beach, shopping through souvenir stores, and hiking parks. But I made sure to get updates about how my roommate was enjoying his week. It was from one of these progress reports that I got word from the pledge master:
Hey, bro. Just letting you know. Your little bro was making some girls uncomfortable at the bar. Can’t have that causing issues for the frat.
Shit man. I’m sorry. Lemme talk to him.
Nah dude, it’s good. We have a protocol for these kinds things. Just letting you know so you aren’t surprised. We’ll make sure he won’t bother any girls again.
Thanks dude. Lemme know if you need anything.
Nah bruh, relax. Enjoy your vacay.
Well as long as they have shit handled. I went back to my vacation and forgot about the whole situation. I would give him crap for it when I got back. The rest of our trip was great. I didn’t hear anything more from my bros so I assumed it all went according to plan. I was eager to get back to my roommate and prep him for full brotherhood when I got back. It wasn’t till I walked into the apartment I knew something was awry:
“Sup, bro, welcome back.”
Tumblr media
A deep voice echoed from the balcony. He stepped inside and was greeted by a stranger. His arms were as thick as a football, his legs as thick as tree trunks. The smell of sweat, sex, and stale beer followed him into the room. He had a fresh tattoo on his arm with the number 86 boldly displayed. The stranger walked with swagger up to me, like he owned the place. As he approached, his musk only grew more intense. It wasn’t until I noticed the glasses it all clicked into place:
“Bro… is that you?!?”
“Bruh, who else would it be?”
My roommate stood proudly in front of me. He had been going to the gym steadily but no amount of protein powder could explain the progress he had made in a week. He was also easily 3 inches taller. And the smell. I don’t know how to describe it but he smelled… virile. Like just being around him was starting to get me excited. He certainly had never been like this before.
“Looking good, right? Like the new tat? Year of our chapter’s founding, 1986. After all, I am made to be loyal to the frat.”
That line made it all click together. The tapes. They said they would handle the situation, I didn’t know they would use the tapes.
”Speaking of which, dude. I can’t believe you flaked on the frat and went on a trip with your partner. You’ve got to be loyal to your bros.”
His scent, his words, my mind was swimming in a way it hadn’t in a long time. He stepped towards me, grabbing my head. I was pulled into his pit. I tried to pull back but a hand on the back of my head held me firmly in place. I felt so aroused and so scared as I was forced to huff the scent of pure frat bro. I was… fading. I couldn’t… resist… my… my… bruhhhhh.
“I think that you should sit through the next set with me bro.”
My mind was blank as he told me to sit down on the couch. Of course, I would do anything for my frat bro. He put on a video and sat behind me.
“They said we could watch this one together.”
The video whirled to life as my roommate held me in place in his lap. A flash of color and a brief intro played. It explained that it was the last in a series of videos for brothers who were trouble makers in the frat. This last one was the most extreme. I felt a wave of guilt, knowing I had betrayed my brothers and the chapter. I wasn’t sure what I did but I knew it must be bad. My behavior had to change.
You will conform to the standard set by the frat, whatever it takes. You will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood.
“I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood,” we both repeated, in unison.
Good. Since you have proven you can’t be trusted with making good decisions, your brothers have decided to make those for you. You will become the ultimate frat bro.
“I will become the ultimate frat bro.”
Let’s start on the outside. A brother works out daily, at least. Strong muscles make for a strong foundation.
As I repeated the words, they became my reality. I had certainly never been a scrawny guy before, but this was something else. My muscles convulsed all at once, then seemed to shred and burst. My muscles ached as pecs, biceps, abs all were pulled out of my body. I sweat under the effort as legs bloated and toned, bloated and toned. My back stretched out and shoulders mounded on muscle.
Good bro. Now, a brother should be cocky, with a cock to match. All the other fraternities should know how superior we are.
‘Shiiit, no other frat could even come close. We threw the best parties, had the hottest girls and… fuck the hottest guys. With a bod like this, just about no body could resist.’ As those thoughts echoed in my head, there was a sharp pain in my balls as they started to swell. My cock snaked down my shorts, throbbing with newfound power and size. A moan escaped my mouth as my cock swelled thick as a beer can. Anyone would beg for a cock like this.
A frat bro with a cock like that just needs to fuck. Your libido keeps your mind so full that you hardly have time to pass your business classes.
My swollen balls began to churn as my cock came to life. As my mind was thrust into a deep sexual haze, any aspirations I had on my pre-law track were pushed out, draining right to my balls and slowly leaking out my cock. At the same time, I felt my roommate begin to shift behind me. I felt his cock press against the small of my back, throbbing as it was thrust into overdrive. He began slowly humping against my back, and I leaned back against that massive cock. I wanted to help my bro however I could. He wrapped his arms around me and slowly started jacking me off. My mind was in pure bliss as I was kicked into overdrive. His arms felt so warm and strong, and he was pushing all my buttons till I was thrusting into his hands.
The frat is a part of you. You live, breath, and sweat the frat. Everyone who meets you will know exactly what you’re about and submit to you, an alpha bro. You put the reek in Greek.
My mind processed for a second until the smell hit me from behind and I understood. My hormones shifted as sweat poured out. It was hard work being a fraternity brother, and everyone would know that. I worked overtime as the smell of straight frat filled my nostrils. The apartment changed in response, filled with leftover beers, used tank tops, and soaked underwear. Anyone who entered would fall into an immediate haze, the smell of bros clouding their mind. My mind was… so… slow. Just… needed… FUCK.
You will keep it simple, keep it stupid.
“I will keep it simple, keep it stupid.”
My head felt like it was filled with fluff. No thoughts, just instinct.
You will listen to your pledge master, follow all he says.
“I will listen to my pledge master, follow all he says.”
It was so much easier to just trust my bros. Whatever they said went.
You will live for and serve your bros, live for and serve the frat.
“I will live for and serve my bros and the frat.”
I would do anything for my bros. Gotta keep ‘em happy.
The frat is life.
“The frat is life.”
My roommate’s cock was still rock hard behind me. His grip was edging me as moaned for release. I could dedicate my life to men like him.
Thank you for your cooperation. There will be no further issues. Now cum.
And I did. Ropes shot across the floor as all the changes were set in stone. I was just another frat dude, struggling through Business classes and fucking through the night.
And with that the video ended. It took a sec for me to regain my senses. I slowly refocused my eyes and… fuck bruh my head is pounding. Musta partied too hard last night. Shit, I was drooling all over myself, lol. I mean, I’m hot but not that hot. And fuck, I made a mess. Bro, what happened? It’s already late, I’ve got to get ready to go out tonight.
Tumblr media
I was going to throw on a polo and some shorts when my roommate put a hand on my shoulder. This man must’ve got a double dose of whatever I got. Bro, he was on another fucking level. He pulled me in tight, cupped my ass in his hands, held my chin, and slid his tongue in my mouth. All at once, my world shifted as the fraternity’s motto rang in my head, I will be entirely dedicated to the brotherhood. An aching in my balls told me that I wasn’t going to make it out tonight. I had my frat bro… no, my big bro right here. And he will take care of his little bro. He pulled down his sweatpants and a thick rod popped out from the waistband. He gently guided me to his cock, the true source of his musk. Our scents mingled as my thoughts were consumed by sex. The salty taste of pre coated my tongue as the tip slid down the back of my throat. My mind faded as the smell of the frat filled my nostrils. I was lost in bliss as my bro started pumping, pumping down my throat. Gone was the nerdy roommate I had:
Tumblr media
There was nothing left but frat bro.
1K notes · View notes
staytheword · 1 year
Text
on my mind
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
on my mind — one shot request by anon [ masterlist ]
• han jisung x female reader.
• non idol au. roommates to lovers. mutual pining. drinking, mention of weed consumption, explicit language, explicit smut.
• smut warnings (spoilers ahead) — porn watching. handjob. oral sex (m receiving). thigh riding. fingering. use of "baby" pet name. protected sex.
• word count: 8.6k
You and Jisung are stressed over your upcoming exams. You need to clear your heads, but you can't find anything that works. That is, until Jisung suggests watching porn together.
• the prompt was friends "using" each other to take the stress out... I hope this will fill your expectations!! ♡
Tumblr media
You slam your book closed, an annoyed sigh escaping your lips. 
You can’t do this anymore. 
You’ve been studying for hours. In fact, you’ve been studying for weeks preparing for those exams. Your eyes are about to melt, your body aching to move from your chair, your brain desperately seeking distraction. You’re sick of this. Sick of stressing yourself out, sick of only allowing yourself to think about what is in these books. The exams are still several days away and you’ll have time to fall back into your anxiety - for now, you deserve a break and you are going to take it.
Or you’re going to try. 
It’s not the first time you tell yourself that - take a break, you deserve it. You close your books and computer, full of resolve, and escape the confines of your room. Each time you end up just pacing the apartment, unable to focus on the movie you’ve put on or the game you’ve started. Once you made it outside for a walk, but you had no idea where to go and ended up walking in circles. Your brain is so preoccupied with your exams you can’t do much else. You wake up and it’s all you think about - and before you know it you collapse on the bed, exhausted.
As you hear someone knock on your door, you blink and realize you’ve been phasing out. You shake your head, slide a hand through your hair - it has gotten too long in the past few weeks - and clear your throat.
“Come in,” you say, your voice a little rusty. 
Jisung pokes his head in from behind the door. “Hey. You hungry?” 
At least you are not alone. Jisung is going through the same thing as you, so you promised each other to do what is necessary to stay sane. Remind the other to eat, for instance, and then eat the meals together, even if it is in complete silence. You’re also very open about your stress, and you force each other to go out or clear your head. If he wasn’t here, you have no idea how you would get through this. 
You hadn’t been sure about becoming Jisung’s roommate at the beginning of the year, but you didn’t regret your decision at all. Some of your friends had raised an eyebrow at you rooming up with a guy, but you trusted Jisung. You resembled each other in a few ways, but were different enough to keep the other on their toes. He was honest, hardworking, but also funny and open-minded. He bought your favorite snacks at the grocery store. He listened to you talk about your difficulties with building your thesis statements. He read your essay drafts and made useful feedback. He made fantastic homemade pizza. He was the best at impressions. He liked to braid your hair. Once he even restacked the pads when you were running low - that day you almost fell in love with him. 
Almost. 
You just had a stupid crush. Who wouldn’t? Jisung was not only kind and attentive, he was also incredibly handsome. Wavy dark hair that shone in the sun. A heart shaped smile that grew so big it swallowed your entire soul. Golden skin that was soft to the touch - you knew from applying a mask on him once. Wide shoulders, a lean and athletic body. You saw him do push ups in his room sometimes, or using the stationary bike you had in the living room. He wiped the sweat off his brow and gave you a smile, nodding his head to the beat of whatever song played in his headphones. 
But Jisung was your friend, first and foremost. Right now, and up until your exams, he was also your ally, your lifeline. You remember, a few weeks back, when you both sat down in front of a bowl of soup and intertwined your pinkies. 
We get through this together, you said.
Together, he repeated, his eyes deeply set in yours. 
Now he smiled gently at you, his mouth a thin line, his eyes wide open but red and glassy from exhaustion. 
“Yeah,” you sigh. “I can cook something, if you want.” 
“That’s ok, I got you,” he smiles. “Why don’t you rest? I’ll get you when it’s ready.” 
You feel something tug at your heartstrings. “Thanks, Ji.” 
With the sweetest smile, he gives you a little nod and disappears, carefully closing the door behind him. You breathe out in the silence, glancing back at your books. You could study a little while Jisung gets the food ready, but you are tempted to listen to him and lie down. A few minutes with your eyes closed couldn’t hurt. 
You drag your feet to your bed, which is luckily not very far, and make the mistake of going under the covers. Your sheets are soft, your comforter heavy. The dim light in your room and the muffled noises of Jisung getting busy in the kitchen are so soothing you slip away quickly. 
You wake up to a hand gently stirring you - you sit up in a jolt, blinking confusingly. 
“Shit, what time is it?” 
It feels like it’s been seconds and years. It’s definitely darker now, and your eyes are puffy with sleep, your skin a little tingly. You recognize Jisung’s silhouette in the darkness as he chuckles.
“I’m sorry to wake you up,” he whispers. “But you need to eat. Then you can go back to sleep, yeah?” 
“R-right. Yeah. Okay.” 
You throw open the covers and get out of bed, not even thinking about the fact that your hair must be a complete mess and your cheeks puffy with sleep. Jisung has seen you in worse states, anyway. You grab a hoodie as you follow him out of your room, one of your socks half slipped out from your foot. 
“It smells really good, Ji,” you comment as you head to the kitchen. 
He turns his head back to you with a smile. He’s wearing a red crewneck, gray sweatpants, and his slippers. You haven’t seen him out of such outfits recently, except for a few nights when he got dressed to go somewhere, but even then his style is always baggy. It’s for this reason you will never forget the one time he got dressed up for a date and wore a tighter shirt. That and the number of times you’ve seen him shirtless, of course. But that’s a whole other issue. 
“It’s nothing fancy,” he says, gesturing to you to sit down at the kitchen island. 
There is an actual table in the dining area, more than large enough for the both of you, but you rarely sit down there to eat. It usually serves as a storage area for random things like folded laundry, groceries, board games or books. Both of you prefer the kitchen island, perching atop the stools that you can twirl to your liking. Half the time you eat there, the other in the living room in front of the television. 
Catching the sight of your hair in the kitchen window, you pull your hoodie on the top of your head and look down at the plate Jisung places in front of you. It is nothing fancy - pasta with creamy sauce, with chopped green onions sitting on top of it, but it smells absolutely delicious and makes your stomach growl. 
“I think I’m drooling,” you state, glancing up at him. “I am so hungry, fuck.” 
Jisung laughs, sitting down next to you with his own plate. “Parmesan?”
“Yes, please.” 
He sprinkles some on your plate, and then on his, before you both start to eat in silence. There’s music playing on the speaker, a song you don’t recognize, and you ask Jisung about it. He tells you about this new band he’s discovered, and you quietly talk as you devour your plates. The sauce, smooth and peppery, is making your taste buds dance, and the food gives you a lot of energy. As you eat, the conversation gets more lively, and you suggest making coffee for dessert. Jisung agrees, and after you insist on doing the dishes first, he says he’ll wait for you in the living room. You hear the familiar song of a game he likes to play and get started on the dishes. As you put down the clean dishes in the drying rack, you sigh. 
A nap. Homemade food. Jisung’s smile. All of these things reassure you, and make you feel peaceful - so why is there such a tight knot at the bottom of your stomach? Why can’t it go away, even for just a few hours? 
You should study again after this.
Drink your coffee with your nose in your books.
You’re wasting valuable time. 
You shut your eyes tight, taking a deep breath as you dry your hands. 
When you sit down on the couch next to Jisung, near the edge of the cushion, not getting too comfortable, you put down his mug of coffee on the table and keep yours in your hands. He shoots you a quick glance. 
“Thanks.” 
You just smile back, a feeble attempt for one, but Jisung catches it. He glances back one more time, frowns. You wish you weren’t that easy to read. You wish you could take a deep breath and smile and he would believe it when you said you were fine. But you’ve never been very good at that. 
Still, Jisung says nothing. He pauses his game, turns the spoon in his coffee mug to mix in the milk. You just stare at yours, the black coffee almost staring back. 
“I should…” You hesitate for a second, then shake your head. “Yeah, I should get back to it.” 
You stand up quickly, hoping to be able to run away before Jisung says anything, but you feel his fingers close around your hand. You look down at him in surprise. He looks at you with wide eyes, looking confused and maybe even slightly annoyed. 
“Right now?” he says. “I thought you’d get some rest.” 
“I did,” you shrug, nibbling on your lower lip. “There’s too much to do, and…” 
“Y/N,” he stops you, shaking his head. “You need to take a break. We need to take a break.” 
You part your lips to retaliate, but Jisung removes his hand from yours and pats the couch. 
“Sit down, please.” 
His voice is low, a little rusty. You swallow, your mouth dry. If only your chest didn’t feel so empty, your heart would be pounding in your chest. 
“I know you’re anxious,” he tells you softly, playing nervously with his fingers. “I am, too. But aren’t you getting tired of, like… just stressing out?” 
You chuckle a little bitterly, looking at Jisung. The light of the television reflects on his skin, mixed with the orange glow of the lamp. The circles under his eyes are dark. His lips are chapped. His nose is still a little red from the cold he had last week. You feel a pang of longing. 
“Of course I am,” you sigh. “But we just have to get through it, right? We just need to make it there.” 
He nods. “I know, but I’m scared of what we’re losing in the process. It can’t be healthy to just study all the time like we do.” 
“What do you suggest, then?” 
He shrugs, leaning back into the couch. His hoodie skirts up his stomach a little as he stretches his arms. You catch a glimpse of skin, of an abdominal muscle. It almost makes your brain glitch. 
“I don’t know,” he breathes. “A distraction? Just for one night.” 
When he sees your hesitation, Jisung quickly continues. 
“I don’t mean dressing up and going outside and being social. Just the two of us, I mean. We can watch a movie, play games… get high.” 
That makes you smile. “We don’t have any more weed since the cookie disaster.” 
“Fuck, that’s right,” he laughs. “But it doesn’t matter. We just need to clear our heads, y’know? Think about something else. Be in denial about the exams. Like they’re not even going to happen.” 
You take a deep breath, still hesitant. Your heart desperately wants to say yes, but your brain is holding back. The voice in your head, telling you you shouldn’t. You don’t want it to whisper your guilt back to you all night. 
“Please, Y/N,” Jisung suddenly adds. There’s something in his voice that catches your attention. Sadness. Despair. “I don’t want to do it without you. We said we’d go through this together, right?” 
You shake your head, staring down at the pinkie finger he is now holding up between you. He’s playing with your heartstrings and he knows it, but you don’t blame him. It’s working too well. There’s not much you would refuse him, anyway - but you don’t tell him that. Instead you smile and wrap your pinkie around his. 
“Okay,” you say softly. “Let’s be in denial together.” 
Jisung grins and you laugh, hitting his arm. 
“It’s not fair that you used the wounded puppy eyes, by the way.” 
“I would never,” Jisung says, shaking his head. 
You take a careful sip of coffee, which is still a little too hot, but the warmth feels nice in your throat. Jisung grabs the second controller and presents it to you. 
“You want to join?” 
Although you are not very good at this game you agree, because you figure it will be a good way to start off the evening. As you pound on the buttons and try not to get Jisung killed in the game, you feel your shoulders relax. It doesn’t make the knot go away, but you do get a little giddy at the idea of not returning to your books tonight. That - and the perspective of spending the next hours with Jisung makes you a little more happy than it should. You already spend a lot of time together, so why would this evening be different? But it still feels like it. 
Once the coffees are empty and the campaign is over, you and Jisung settle on a movie you both wanted to see for a while. You settle on opposite sides of the couch as you usually do, but you end up stretching your legs so much your feet rest against Jisung’s legs, and he doesn’t complain. He even puts a warm hand on your ankle at some point, distracting you a little from the movie. 
The movie ends too quickly, and you end up in the kitchen cleaning the mugs and staring at each other. 
“What now?” you chuckle. “It’s still early. Unless you want to go to bed…”
“No way,” he replies. “I want to make this last as much as possible.”
He is looking at you as he says that, his hair sticking out behind his head because of the way he was slumped on the couch for the duration of the movie, and your heartbeat accelerates. You feel a hotness on the back of your neck and you rub it with your hand. 
“Then maybe we can… Take a walk? It’s not raining or anything.” 
“Snack run? Then we can find something else to watch.” 
“Sounds good.” 
You don’t bother getting changed because it’s dark outside and the grocery store is just around the corner. Besides, you live in a neighborhood that is mostly composed of other students, so two people in sweatpants and hoodies isn’t uncommon at all. After getting plenty of snacks, you head back towards your shared apartment, talking in calm voices. The streets are not too busy, and it’s only slightly chilly. You glance up at the sky, walking slowly, your hand brushing Jisung’s. 
At one point, you realize you are only talking about school and your exams, so Jisung shakes his head. 
“We are so bad at this whole ‘think about something else’ thing,” he laughs. 
You sigh. “We really are. God, this is hard.” 
“We need to find a really good distraction. Something that would really, really disconnect our brains, like…” 
He stops and you look at him with a frown. “Like what?” 
“I dunno,” he answers a little too quickly. “We have to find something, is what I’m saying.” 
“Yeah,” you agree in a whisper, glancing back at him curiously. 
You could swear he is blushing. 
“How about drinking?” he offers. “Not too much so we don’t get headaches, but a little. Being tipsy can maybe help us get inspiration.” 
“I like the idea,” you smile. 
Once you are back inside your apartment, your sneakers exchanged for slippers, you grab a bottle of soju from the fridge and fill two glasses. You and Jisung sit on the floor, backs leaning against the couch, and clink your glasses together. Jisung chooses a random movie on Netflix, and you watch it for a few minutes, unable to concentrate on it. After you’ve taken a few sips, you let out a sigh. 
“You know what would be easier? If we weren’t single.” 
Jisung arches an eyebrow. 
“I mean, we could just call them,” you explain. “Get laid. Get a massage. Make out for hours. That would be really good distraction.” 
“It would,” Jisung laughs. “Don’t you have someone you could call?”
“Like a fuck buddy?” you say. “Jisung, you seem to forget how excruciatingly single and bad at flirting I am.” 
“You can’t be worse than me,” he smiles, taking another sip from his glass. “Last time I tried to get laid I got stood up.” 
“She was a bitch,” you point out. 
Jisung shakes his head. “I thought personality doesn’t matter when it comes to hooking up.” 
“That’s not exactly true.” 
“Like you’re such a pro at this, huh?” 
You gasp at Jisung’s jab, shoving him with your elbow. “That was so mean!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” he laughs, holding his palms up. “I mean, if a massage would do it for you, I can try.” 
You scrunch your nose. “Nah, thank you. I’m actually not much of a massage person.” 
“How can you not be a massage person?!” 
You keep talking and laughing, watching the movie sometimes, and for a while, you think that you’ve actually succeeded at clearing your heads. You feel lighter, distracted. The alcohol and Jisung’s laugh help a lot. But eventually you breathe out and realize that the knot is still there. Insistent. It almost feels like it’s getting bigger. Beside you, you can feel that Jisung is the same. His shoulders are tense, and his eyes, while fixated on the screen, are not seeing anything. You’re a little tipsy so you grab the controller and press pause. 
“Ji, this isn’t working.” 
He turns towards you, looking sheepish. “I know. I’m sorry…” 
“We need something more drastic.” 
He gives you a little nod, and you squint. 
“What was the idea you had earlier?” 
His head shoots up and you can see panic in his eyes. “What? What idea?” 
“Don’t lie to me,” you tell him. “I know your idea face. You thought of something back there, when we were walking back.” 
And there it is - Jisung blushes again, shaking his head vehemently. “Oh. Oh, no. It wasn’t… It’s stupid. It’s not - I just mean it’s… No.” 
You turn your body completely towards his, drawing your knees against your chest. “Ji, come on. Tell me. I’m not going to judge.” 
He gives you a timid look, and empties his soju glass before he clears his throat. You do not know why, but your heart is pounding in your chest. 
Jisung breathes deeply. 
“I was just thinking, that when I need a distraction, like… When I really want to think about something else, I…” 
“Yes?” you encourage him. 
“I jerk off.” 
You stare back at him in shock. You should’ve expected this. You were an idiot not to catch it earlier on. It was a logical answer - and something you’ve tried yourself numerous times in the past couple of days. Slipping your fingers in your underwear, stimulating yourself. Watching porn. But when you did succeed at your orgasms, they always felt underwhelming. They never left you feeling appeased, just even more tense. 
“Oh,” you breathe out.
“I told you it was stupid! I shouldn’t have -” 
“It’s not stupid,” you shrug, and it’s your turn to empty your glass. 
You’re not drunk. You’re just a little tipsy. It’s not barely enough to have this kind of conversation with your roommate - one you have a huge crush on - but it will have to do. You want Jisung to feel comfortable with you. And it’s nothing to be embarrassed of, right? That’s what people always say. So why is talking about it so hard, why is your heart pounding, why is the thought of Jisung jerking off turning you on so goddamn much?
Jisung blinks at you. “It’s not?” 
“Of course not,” you smile a little nervously. “I… I do it too, when I want to relax.” 
He visibly gulps, but you take it as embarrassment. 
“Don’t we all?” you add, a little nervously. 
He nods quickly, maybe a little too enthusiastically. Your cheeks are hot, horribly hot. You need some air. You need another drink. Ten, even. 
“I mean, if you want some time alone…” 
“No, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jisung says. “I just, I mean, you know my friend Minho?” 
You nod. “Yeah, why?” 
“He told me about one time, he and his friend, I mean they were dating so it’s not the same, but they - hm, they… They watched porn together.” 
It feels like you can barely breathe. Did it suddenly get very warm in your living room? Because your skin feels like it’s on fire and neither you or Jisung can look at each other directly. 
“People really do that?” you say in a weak voice. 
“Apparently,” Jisung chuckles nervously. “He said it was really fun, so… Yeah, I don’t know why I thought about that.” 
There’s a short silence as you try to make sense of what Jisung is telling you. Is he just telling an anecdote, or is he asking for something? If you agree, will he think you’re crazy or weird? Maybe he’s just sharing. You decide there’s not much to lose. If you are misunderstanding, you can just laugh and pretend you’re joking. 
Your voice is gentle, not very assumed. “You… you want us to watch porn together?” 
Jisung shoots you a very panicked look and for a second you think you’ve just made a huge fool of yourself. But he opens his mouth and stammers out a yes. 
“C-could be fun, I guess?” he adds. 
You breathe out, your heart beating so fast you are sure Jisung can hear it. Surely, he can hear it. How terrified you are terrified at the prospect of watching porn with him. How much you never would’ve thought this could happen. How much you want to do it now. 
“We really don’t have to, it’s just a stupid idea, and -”
“Okay,” you whisper. 
Jisung looks at you. “R-really?” 
“Sure, why not,” you say more decisively, giving him a tight nod. “We can comment on it and everything. Could be fun. I mean, it’s just porn, right? We watch it all the time.” 
You realize your mistake too late, your smile faltering on your lips.
“I - I mean, I do, not all the time, but sometimes, like all people do, and…” 
“You heard me that time, didn't you?” Jisung sighs, slamming his palm against his forehead. 
You can’t hold back a smile this time - a genuine one. Jisung groans as you bite your lip, trying to hold back your laughter. 
“Just say it,” he sighs. 
“I heard you that time.” 
Jisung’s head drops forward in his hands and you chuckle, your shoulders shaking. 
“It’s okay, Ji, it’s not -” 
“The ONE time!” he cries out, looking up at you. You love the smile on his face, both embarrassed and amused, horrified and shy. “The one time I forget to plug in my headphones… I realized too late…” 
“It’s fine,” you repeat, not thinking, and place a hand on his thigh to squeeze it briefly. “It’s just porn, Ji. And I know you’re into hentai, so don’t be ashamed, please. I like it too.” 
Jisung looks at you like his brain is short-circuiting. “You - what - how do you know that?” 
“I was in the room with you and Minho that time you talked about it, remember?” You smile. “Also, it’s the second time his name comes up in our conversation about porn, this is getting weird.” 
Jisung shrugs. “Eh, the man is shameless. But you’re right, I remember now. God, that is embarrassing.” 
“It isn’t,” you smile, twirling your empty glass in your hand. You don’t want to drink anymore - this is already too much adrenaline for you. “I just confessed I’m into it, too. Do you think that’s weird?” 
“Not at all. I think that’s… hot.” 
You smile, feeling your cheeks burn, but you do not know what to answer. Instead, you fill your lungs with air and gather your courage. 
Jisung is observing his nails very carefully. 
“So, shall we?” you say, trying to sound confident.
Jisung glances up at you, searching your eyes for an instant. You guess he must be looking for hesitation, or trying to figure out if you really want this or are doing it just to please him, so you just smile calmly, although you’re unable to hold back your nervousness. 
“Let’s do it,” he answers with a sharp nod.
For good measure, you each pour yourself another drink, and Jisung gets his laptop to plug it so the browser is projected on the television. You wrap your arms around your legs, looking up nervously at the screen. Jisung’s fingers hover over the keyboard. 
“S-so, is there a website you like?” he asks.
“Hm,” you answer, letting out a shaky breath. “Not really. You can go to the one you usually go to. If you’re okay with that.”
“Sure,” Jisung breathes. 
It takes him a few more seconds but he eventually types in a website and you let out a giggle as the welcome page pops up on the screen. 
“What?” 
“It’s just - it’s also the one I use,” you admit, and Jisung grins.
“Really? I like this one because of the categories. They’re a little unusual but so much fun for discovering new stuff.” 
“And the mobile site is so well made,” you add with enthusiasm. “Not like other websites which are impossible to navigate on your phone…” 
“Ugh, tell me about it.” 
You laugh, relieved that this is already easier than you thought it would be. Of course, you haven’t actually put on any porn yet, but at least you are learning to speak of it more or less comfortably. 
A short silence follows as Jisung scrolls up and down the page, and you glance at the thumbnails. Schoolgirls. Medieval fantasy. Monsters. After a minute, Jisung lets out a sigh. 
“I guess we just have to choose one,” he says. 
You bite your lip. “Type in Labyrinth in the search bar.” 
Jisung looks at you, but he still does it. You point out the thumbnail you recognize, feeling almost dizzy. 
“I like this one,” you say in a very soft voice. “The story’s actually really good.” 
“O-okay.” 
Taking a sharp breath, Jisung clicks on the link and the video opens up. He puts it on full screen, and it feels different to watch it on the television. You roll your arms around yourself, feeling terribly shy, and Jisung sits on the couch  next to you - at a reasonable distance, of course. You clink your glasses together and take a sip of soju. 
It’s not so bad at first. There’s an actual story to this video that you enjoy, but you know it doesn’t last that long. You are terrified of what Jisung might say, that he might laugh at you, but you try your best not to overthink everything. As the sex scenes are coming closer, you realize you have not yet exchanged a word and there is still the embarrassing issue of actually getting turned on. You really haven’t thought this through, you think to yourself as the characters start to undress each other. 
Oh, God. 
Kisses. Fondling. The wet sounds of the guy’s fingers slipping into the girl’s dripping folds. You breathe in slowly - but there’s a reason you love this video. It really pushes your buttons, so you can’t help but feel your walls clench around nothing. You should think about something else. You can’t focus too much on this. But you’re already getting wet and your eyes can’t leave the screen because if they do, they’ll inevitably fall on Jisung.
Your friend. Your roommate. Your crush. Who is sitting next to you, watching your favorite porn video with you. Oh, God. 
On the screen, the guy buries his head in between her legs. Licks her wetness as she moans his name. The images are one thing - the sounds are another. 
You’re burning up, pushing your thighs together, trying to stay discreet. 
As the girl’s pleasure builds, the subtitles translate her moans for you. Wanted this for so long, your tongue feels so good buried in me. That’s when you feel Jisung move beside you. Your eyes are instinctively drawn to him, and you catch a glimpse of his parted mouth, his red cheeks, his hazy eyes. 
He has his legs propped up against him. You wonder if he’s as turned on as you. Maybe not. Maybe this isn’t doing it for him.
You focus back on the screen as the girl comes, squirting around the guy’s face. He chuckles, and asks her to suck his cock. She bends down to do it, and Jisung breathes out sharply. 
“The- the animation’s really good,” he says weakly, and you are quick to nod.
“Yeah, right? The movements are really smooth,” you comment. 
Jisung smiles nervously. “Yeah. I - I like it.” 
You want to keep talking, but you don’t know what to say. The questions that burn the tip of your tongue cannot be asked, not really, not right now. You and Jisung are friends who watch porn together. You are not involved. You are not dating. This is just a distraction. 
But now you are horny as fuck and getting tense. You need to relieve the pressure between your legs or you will go crazy. You can already feel your mind buzzing. 
The girl is giving the guy a sloppy blowjob. He is groaning loudly, which is something you like about this video, and she hums in pleasure. 
“The voice acting isn’t that bad, right?” you say. “I like it when we can hear the guy, too.” 
“You do?” Jisung asks. “I thought girls didn’t like hearing us.” 
“Oh my God, it’s literally the opposite,” you chuckle. “Hearing the guys groan and moan is the hottest thing ever.” 
“Really?” 
“Yeah, Ji. Be as vocal as possible, I promise it’s going to make them come quicker.” You shrug. “I mean, I can’t speak for everyone. But it would do it for me.” 
Jisung nods, and you both turn back to the screen just in time for the guy plunging his cock deep inside his partner, making her gasp in pleasure. The squelching noises are turned up, and she is visibly dripping all around him, precum and juices staining the sheets of the bed. 
Yes, fuck me deep, your cock is so big, oh my god! 
You close your eyes, shifting your hips in a desperate attempt to rub yourself against something, but there’s nothing to do - your cunt is just throbbing, and you can feel your slick drenching your underwear. You’re so hot, you want to remove your hoodie, but you also can’t move. 
You lose track of time a little when Jisung’s voice reaches your ears. 
“S-sorry,” he says in a breathy voice. “I can’t help it.” 
You glance at him and notice he has stretched his legs. His gray sweatpants hide absolutely nothing of his erection and you stare at the outline of his cock, hard and thick. You could moan out loud at the mere sight, but by miracle you are able to hold it in. You had noticed Jisung was, let’s say, well equipped, but you did not expect this. 
“I’m so sorry,” he mumbles. 
“It’s fine,” you whisper, shaking your head, finally looking up at him. “I’m really wet, too.” 
Jisung’s cock twitches under his pants and he closes his eyes sharply. “Fuck, don’t tell me that.” 
“S-sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry. Fuck. I’m sorry.”
You don’t know what it is. Maybe it’s the porn on the television, your own arousal, your repressed crush for Jisung or the sight of his stiff cock, but you’re unable to think straight and the words come out of your mouth unprovoked.
“Ji, do you… do you want some help?” 
The thought that you could actually touch him makes your mouth water. You’ve thought about it before, wrapping your hands around him. Closing your lips around his length. Licking him clean. Maybe it’s not as impossible as you thought. Maybe you aren’t that foolish to think it could happen.
Jisung stammers for a few seconds because he gulps. “A-are you really asking?” 
You nod faintly. “I can jerk you off.” 
He stares at you, mouth open. “I mean - If - if- if you’d like it.”  He seems to catch himself, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “You don’t have to, Y/N, it’s…” 
“I don’t mind,” you answer. “I - I’d like it, but only if you want to.” 
“R-right. Hm, okay. But only if you’re sure…” 
You just shuffle closer to him, kneeling beside his body. His smell overwhelms you, so him, his cologne and his soap, soju and candy, and your hands are shaking as you reach for his pants. You hesitate, though, realizing what you are about to do. You’re scared he doesn’t really want this, you’re scared of what it will change, but before you can start to doubt too much, Jisung slides down his sweatpants and takes his cock out himself. 
“H-here.” 
He holds it up for you although he wouldn’t have to. He is so hard it looks painful, veins bulging, slightly curved, pre-cum glistening at the tip. You bite your lip, pressing your legs together, and you’re sitting so close to Jisung you feel his breath in your hair. 
You reach out and wrap your fingers around his cock. It’s warm and pulsating, and Jisung lets out a whimper. You move your hand upwards and downwards, getting used to him, barely seeing the porn that is still ongoing on the screen. All you hear are moans and the wet sounds of fucking and kissing, and it helps you not think too much about what is happening, like it’s not real, like it’s part of the porn. Your fingers slide up to his tip, smearing the pre-cum over Jisung’s cock, and you jerk your hand a little faster.
Jisung lets out a choked moan and his forehead falls against the side of your head. His arm slides around your body, holding you close, the other resting on the couch, gripping the fabric. 
“F-fuck, ah, ah, fuck,” he whispers in your ear, and the sound is like the sweetest music. 
Is Jisung enjoying this? You giving him a handjob while watching porn? This can’t be real. This is the hottest thing you've ever done.
“Is that okay?” you ask him softly. 
“F-feels p-perfect,” he grunts, bucking his hips against your hand. “Y/N…” 
The sound of your name draws a shaky breath from your lips, and your other hand grabs his thigh, squeezing it a little. You try to remain steady, intoxicated by the sounds coming from the television, Jisung’s noises, his cock around your hand, him fucking your palm. 
“I’m n-not going to last,” Jisung whimpers, and you slide up your other hand to cup his balls. That draws a loud grunt from his lips. “Fuck, Y/N!” 
“Hold on,” you whisper, feeling drunker than if you had emptied a bottle of soju by yourself. “I want to suck you off.” 
It might be your only chance. You want to make this moment last - so you have something to think about, the next time your roommate comes into your mind. The next time you dream about Jisung being yours. The next time you tell yourself there is no way he can like you back. You can at least let him go knowing he’s come once around your hands, around your lips. 
“Y-you sure?” 
You nod, shuffling back on the couch a little, bending forward so your lips come into contact with his cock. Jisung buries his fingers in your hair, pulling them together to keep them away from your face. You kiss his tip, your right hand still moving, your left holding his balls. 
“Holy fuck, Y/N… This feels incredible… I’m not…” 
“Just let go, Ji,” you whisper, perhaps a little too tenderly.
You wrap your mouth around his cock, taking him in. You glance up to see his eyes roll back. You’re pretty sure the sex scene is over on the screen, because people are talking, but neither of you are paying any attention. You bob your head, licking every inch of him, and Jisung thrusts his hips slowly, fucking your mouth gently. 
“I’m gonna blow, fuck, please, ah - ah, FUCK -” 
He comes quickly and suddenly, his cum filling your mouth, salty and warm. His cock keeps throbbing between your lips, and Jisung is breathing heavily, his fingers still resting in your hair, all tangled. You take the time to lick him clean, gently, carefully. 
When you sit up, his hand slides down your arm to your leg, and you look at him. He’s not moving, head thrown back, his hair over his slightly sweaty face, his clothes in disarray. 
This is a sight you’ll never forget. 
A taste you’ll never forget. 
You feel something tighten in your chest. 
You’ve fallen so hard for him. 
“Y/N…” he breathes after a few seconds, raising his head to look at you. 
His hands reach for you, and you let him. His hand grazes your cheek, the other gripping your own. You slide your fingers in between his, feeling a little shy. 
“That was unreal,” he breathes, leaning in towards you. 
He doesn’t kiss you, neither does he hug you - he just presses his body against yours, pressing his lips against your hair. It’s such a tender gesture you feel your heart swell in your chest and you ache for touch. You don’t expect anything. You want to run away to touch yourself, to fuck yourself thinking of him, but you don’t want to leave his warmth. 
“Come here,” he whispers. “It’s your turn.” 
Your heart skips a beat. You want to tell him he doesn’t have to, but he’s already wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer. You end up on his lap, and instinctively you guide your legs so you straddle one of his legs, your core flush on his thigh. 
The pressure, despite the layers of clothing, draws a moan from between your lips and you dig your fingers in his skin. 
“Jisung…” 
“Does that feel good?” he asks in a whisper.
When you nod, Jisung raises his thigh a little, applying more pressure on your cunt, and the wave of pleasure makes you arch your back and grind against him. 
“Don’t hold back,” he breathes as you start to roll your hips. “Like you told me. Just let go.”
He places a hand on the small of your back, accompanying you in your movements. He breathes in your neck, warming up and tickling your skin, your cunt clenching tighter and tighter. His thigh is tense, pressing against all the right places, and you can’t stop moaning. 
You push yourself up a little, pressing a hand against his chest, and you want to get rid of all those clothes, and feel him under your skin, but you can’t stop moving, and you are so close to coming.
Jisung is breathing hard against you, pushing his leg upwards, his hands massaging your waist, helping you move as you ride his thigh. “That’s it, baby…” 
The nickname alone almost ends you.
He kisses your collarbone and you think you might explode. “You sound so good. I’m so fucking obsessed with you,” he says. 
The words take your breath away. You shudder, your fingers squeezing his as you roll your hips a little slower. “You - what?” 
It’s like he doesn’t hear you. “Baby, please, can I make you cum?” 
You just nod, his words echoing in your mind, unable to be truly grasped as your orgasm builds up. His hand slides down your pants and he pushes his fingers under your panties, pressing them against your wetness. You let out a moan at the direct contact, feeling your body jolt. 
“You’re so wet,” Jisung groans in your ear. 
You can’t bring yourself to speak. You’re already so close to your climax that when Jisung starts to circle your clit, pushing his fingers in between your folds, it only takes a few seconds for you to come undone, breathing out his name. It feels like a tidal wave, like a power surge, like everything you have dreamed of. You feel him smile, his fingers teasing you until you have to grab his wrist and pull them away. 
“S-sensitive,” you chuckle, unable to open your eyes, feeling drained. 
He nods with a soft laugh. You can feel against your leg that he’s hard again, but he doesn’t do anything. He just looks at you as you try to steady your breathing, your legs trembling. You don’t want to move - he is so warm next to you. But eventually, you realize the position you are in, and so you slide off him. Jisung helps you, his hands guiding you back on the couch beside him. 
You feel breathless, like you’ve just ran a marathon. Once your eyes are able to focus, you stare at the screen without really seeing it. You try to grasp what has just happened. You wonder what’s next. You are afraid.
“Y/N…” 
Jisung’s voice reaches your ears but you can’t bring yourself to look at him. What now? Can you stay roommates? Can you even stay friends? Your heartbeat accelerates and you sit up on the couch, suddenly feeling antsy. 
“I - I should… I need to go to the bathroom.” 
“Y/N, wait -” 
You know it’s unfair, but you ignore him and quickly walk away. You close the bathroom door, breathing out. And then the oddest thing happens.
You smile. 
You giggle in surprise, putting your fingers to your lips. Fuck, you can’t stop smiling. You should be nervous, you should be terrified. But none of those feelings are lasting - you are only smiling like an idiot. Jisung’s words resonate in your head. I’m so fucking obsessed with you. 
Sometimes things need to change. Sometimes they should. Sometimes they are meant to. 
When you open the bathroom door again, Jisung is waiting for you on the other side. His big eyes are filled with worry, pleading, and fear. 
“Y/N, please, listen -” 
You don’t think. You just kiss him. 
Jisung does not move at first, and when you take a step back, your cheeks burning up, he stares at you with shock. 
“What are you -” 
“I like you,” you blutter out. “I like you a lot.” 
It takes another second, but Jisung’s lips curve into a smile. His eyes do not leave yours, but the light in them changes. Soon his heart-shaped grin makes your heart swell in your chest, and he’s picking you up in his arms and kissing you again. 
You push him gently against the wall. “Please touch me again.” 
You guide his hands on your waist, and he breathes hard in your mouth. 
“I like you so much,” Jisung says, and his lips brush against your ear, making you breathe out. “I have such a massive crush on you. Never let myself act on it… I was too scared, you know.” 
“I know,” you whisper back. “Me too.”
“I like everything about you,” he whispers. “Your laugh. Your passion. Your smell. Your skin… Fuck, you’re so gorgeous. You don’t have any idea how beautiful you are. How fucking sexy.” 
You part your mouth wider, and he pushes his tongue against yours, playing with it, his teeth teasing your lips. His hard cock is pressing against you, making you crave him again, and you want to feel him inside of you, so deep you can never be separated again. 
“Can I take you back to my room?” he asks in between two kisses. “I want to fuck you in my bed.” 
You feel yourself throbbing and you can’t hold back a moan as you nod.
It happens fast - Jisung takes your hand and guides you to his room. You’re pretty sure the porn is still playing on the television back in the living room, but who cares? You only have eyes for Jisung.
You know his room so well. The smells, the colors. The desk, the blankets, the clothes. The stickers on the window. Yet it all looks different as you step inside holding Jisung’s hand. He draws you close, bringing you back into a kiss. You collapse against him, letting him guide you to his bed.
He lifts you like you’re a feather, laying you down, his body above yours. Jisung is quick to cover your neck with kisses, his wet lips smearing saliva on your skin. He removes your hoodie, palms your breasts, who are only covered by a tank top.  
“Fuck, those tits…” 
You can hardly breathe, loving each of his caresses. The sheets smell so much like him it’s almost overwhelming. After removing the rest of your clothes, he spends a long time kissing and licking your breasts, playing with your nipples, drawing hisses and moans from your lips. After a while you whimper in protest, because your walls are begging for him.
“Ji, please…” 
His mouth breaks into a grin, and he comes back to push his lips against yours. He kisses you surprisingly tenderly, and you moan against his mouth, because this feels so right, so true. His fingers stroke your hair, your cheek, and your hands travel down his back and then upwards, lifting his crewneck. He removes it, and you arch your back against him, your nipples pressed against his chest, his lips ardently seeking yours. 
Soon he is naked too, and as he keeps kissing you, his cock teases your wetness. From his shuddered breathing, you know he can’t wait much longer, and you squeeze his arm, hoping he understands your signal. It seems like he does, because he sits up a little, leaning towards his bedside table to open a drawer. He fumbles inside of it, muttering nonsense, until he finally pulls out a condom. You giggle and Jisung laughs with you, and you feel warmer than you ever have. 
Once Jisung has safely put on the condom, he guides his cock against your entrance and glances at you. 
“Can I - I mean - You sure?” 
“Yes,” you nod. 
You wish you could look at his length disappearing inside of you, just because you’ve desired it so much, but once Jisung enters you, your head falls back on the pillow. He goes slow, leaving you time to adjust, stopping when you breathe a little more sharply. It takes a minute, but eventually he fills you up, and you wrap your arms around him, breathing out. 
“Are you okay?” 
You nod. “Sorry. It’s just been a while.” 
“There’s no rush,” he tells you softly. “We can go slow.” 
You smile, pulling him into a kiss. 
“Just tell me if it’s too much,” he breathes in your ear. 
He starts to move, thrusting his hips carefully. Your body recovers quickly, though, and soon you can shift your hips alongside his, easing his movements. He fucks you gently and deeply, sending shivers up your spine, and you’ve certain you’ve never had sex like this. You breathe together, move together, moan together. 
You take your time, your orgasm rising slowly and surely. You dig your fingers in his skin, shudder when you hear him grunt. You shift positions after some time, so that your legs can be wrapped more easily around his waist, and he’s so deep inside of you that you feel your walls throb with pleasure. 
“J-just like that,” you whisper to him. “Fuck, I’m coming…” 
“I can feel you,” he whimpers. “Come, baby, I’m so close too…” 
You cry out in his neck, the sound slightly muffled, and Jisung follows you seconds afterwards. You feel every throb of his release. You’re still shivering as he looks down in panic. 
“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry, I didn’t pull out…” 
“It’s okay,” you reassure him. “There’s the condom, and I take the pill…” 
He still looks worried so you kiss him, feeling at peace. You are safe, you feel safe. Jisung eventually relaxes, and after throwing away the condom, he slumps on the bed beside you, snuggling his head in the crook of your neck. His fingers brush your cheek to put a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“I want to make you cum every day,” he says gently. “With my fingers, my mouth, my cock.” 
“Hmm,” you smile. “I like that idea.”
“Yeah?” he grins. “I want to sleep next to you. See your face in the morning, the sunshine against your cheeks… Your arms wrapped around me.” 
With every sentence he places a kiss, making you sleepy and perfectly awake at the same time, your mind consumed by the images he draws. 
“I want to keep cooking for you. Make you smile. Drive you to the dentist…”
“Jisung, you don’t have a car,” you laugh.
“I’ll get one. And I want to get rid of those fucking doors between us.” 
“Jisung.” 
You open your eyes, grab his face so he looks at you in the eyes. 
“Will you kiss me?” 
Jisung pushes your hair away from your face and does exactly that.
Some time later, you smile. 
You have not drawn the curtain yet, so the moonlight penetrates the window, illuminating the room in soft blues. You graze your nose against Jisung’s chest, listening to him breathe. He’s slowly falling asleep beside you, the covers drawn over your naked bodies.
“Hey, you know what? It worked. I haven’t thought about studying all night,” you whisper to him. 
You hear him chuckle. “Hm. I don’t even know what you’re referring to. My head is completely empty.” 
“So is mine,” you say with a laugh, planting a kiss on his warm skin. “I can’t even remember what day of the week this is.” 
“I can only think about you,” Jisung replies, stroking your hair. “I like you a lot.” 
“Me too, Ji. Me too.” 
Tumblr media
I'm so sorry for not updating as much as I used to. I hurt my shoulder pretty bad and couldn't write for a while, and now my head won't let me.
Let me know if you enjoyed this! Thank you for all of your support and love. ♡
taglist: @ughbehavior ; @upallnight-s ; @changbinluvr ; @rosexjimin ; @nasiaisan ; @lotus-dly ; @cb97percent ; @j-0ne25 ; @hwan-g ; @jhopesucker ; @leedunno ; @septicrebel ; @imtoooyoungforthisshit ; @sikebishes ; @sai-kida134 ; @sstarryoong ; @alexis-reads-fics ; @luvsskz ; @beautifulcolorgarden ; @sensitiveandhungry
5K notes · View notes
Text
ARE WE STILL FRIENDS?
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮
a/n: hi everyone! i wanted to write a story w friends to lovers trope so here it is! im not sure if this will be an ongoing series, ill just have to see where it goes!! this kinda sucks im sorryyy i haven’t written in a while ive been so busy w school </3
cw: toxic!ellie, situationship abby???, tipsy sex, fingering (r receiving), violence?, kinda public sex, honestly badly written + not proofread😭lmk what else!!
WHY YOU SHOULD NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN
✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮ ✮
it was a normal friday, you had just got home from classes and were getting ready to go to a kickback with your friends to drink the stress of finals away. you were going with your friends dina, jesse, and your roommate ellie. all of you became friends during your freshman year of college, you and ellie deciding to room together. you were just finishing up your makeup, and you got up to change, beginning to take your robe off, when your door flies open.
“hey, y/n i-“ she makes eye contact with you as you quickly attempt to cover yourself, your robe already halfway off. “shit- i’m- i’m sorry! i didn’t see anything! i swear i-“ why was she still standing there?
“get out!! go!” you say, clearly embarrassed. she turns around, clearly flushed. you become extremely red, but remember this isn’t the first time she’s walked in on you getting dressed. or the second, or the third..
you walk out of your room, wearing a simple outfit of a tank top and shorts. you meet eyes with ellie, who looks you up and down, seeing what you’re wearing. it was like everything was quiet. you’ve had a crush on ellie since you met her, but you’d always assumed she didn’t like you back since she was bringing in a new girl every week. she was wearing a blue flannel with a white tank top under, paired with a pair of jeans. you couldn’t help but admire her, and wonder what she looked like under her-
“y/n!! i feel like i haven’t seen you in ages!!”
your trance is broken by dina, who runs up to you, giving you a big hug. you hug her back, closing your eyes and smiling a huge smile. the four of you haven’t hung out in ages. most of your nights consisted of either studying, or smoking with ellie and watching whatever dumb movie was playing at the time. the two of you let go, and you walked up to give jesse a hug as well.
“god it’s been so long since we’ve all been together!” you say, letting go of jesse. “is everyone ready?”
“yeah, we’ve been waiting on the princess to finish getting ready.” ellie says, sarcastically. you roll your eyes as jesse grabs his keys and the four of you head out to the car. dina immediately takes her spot up front, leaving you and ellie in the back. “can i have aux?” ellie says before the car is even on.
the four of you arrive at the party shortly after, everyone arguing on what music to play. jesse gets out first and goes to open dina’s door for her. “you’re cooked, jesse.” ellie says, laughing. “hey! i think its cute.” you argue back. ellie just looks at you and rolls her eyes, laughing, as she gets out of the car.
the party wasn’t full, nothing crazy. you walk in first, immediately beelining to the drinks. you bump into a large, blonde hair girl.
“woah, you good?” you meet eyes with the women’s hockey teams star player, abby anderson. you notice her hands are on your waist, steadying you before you fell.
“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you laugh.
“don’t worry about it, what’s your name gorgeous?” she says with a smirk. you look around, and see ellie already chatting it up with a ditsy girl. if she can have fun, why can’t you?
“y/n, and you are?” you knew the answer to this, everyone did. but you ddint wanna seem like a stalker for knowing her name when she didn’t know yours.
“abby. are you here with anyone?” she asks, scanning around the room. you hardly even notice when her hands leave your waist, steadying herself on the counter.
“oh, just my friends. i split away to grab a drink.” you slightly turn to pour a random bottle into one of the red solo cups stacked on the counter.
she laughs, watching you. “a pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. it makes you blush, downing the liquor for some liquid courage.
“oh i don’t- i don’t really like guys..” you giggle. she raises her eyebrows.
“oh, so i do have a chance?” she replies, taking a sip from her cup. “do you wanna head up to my room?”
you look over to jesse and dina, they’re dancing to whatever shitty house music is playing. then to ellie, who’s clearly already had a few drinks, chatting it up with two girls now.
“sure, let’s go!”
abby grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd. you can’t help but love how big her hand is in yours, how she led you through the crowd saying hi to almost everyone. you almost make it to the stairs when you hear a commotion, and abby is shoved away from you.
“the fuck are you doing anderson?”
it’s ellie.
what’s her problem? she has girls at her disposal and she’s worried what you’re doing?
“don’t start shit at my party, ellie.” she says back, getting closer and towering over her. you knew abby and ellie didn’t get along that good, ellie always told you it was because abby was cocky and spoiled, but clearly it was more than that. “what’s your deal?”
“my deal is that you’re trying to treat her like she’s one of your sluts, she’s probably drunk and you’re taking advantage of her!” ellie barks back, slurring her words. this makes abby angrier, and you have to step in.
“ellie, it’s not that big of a deal. i said yes, im barely tipsy. can you let us be?” you didn’t realize your words sounded a little rude, but it didn’t matter. you knew this, with abby, was only gonna be a simple fuck and nothing more. she glares at you, grabbing your hand and trying to drag you out of the house. you try to resist her, but she’s stronger. “ellie, let go!”
suddenly, abby shoves ellie hard. “she said let the fuck go, ellie!” ellie’s expression changed. she looked infuriated. she drops her drink and punches abby in the face. “oh you fucked up.” abby says getting ready to punch ellie. you shove ellie away, telling abby to find you on instagram, that you’ll text her and that your sorry. you begin practically dragging ellie out. dina and jesse stop you before you can leave.
“what the fuck happened?” dina says, looking at the clearly pissed ellie.
“i’ll tell you when we get home, im just gonna call an uber, go home, and sober her up.”
“you sure you don’t want a ride? we don’t mind i-“ jesse says.
“no, it’s fine. i’ll text you guys when i get home.” you go to leave, pushing ellie out and ordering and uber.
the ride home was quiet. the uber didn’t even make small talk as usual. the air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife. finally, you stop at your house, thanking the uber driver, and go around to ellie’s side to help her get out.
“i don’t.. i don’t need your fucking help.” she snaps. you roll your eyes and continue to help her, dragging her inside and pushing her on the couch. “god, what’s your problem?”
you don’t know why she was acting so mean. true, she had a few drinks, but she didn’t usually act this this when drunk.
“what’s your fucking problem ellie? i mean, god, can i not make my own decisions?” you snap, going to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. “you fuck a new girl every week, sometimes two, and i can’t do it once?” you take the shot. “what are you so mad about?” you shout, going to pour yourself another.
you hear her shift a little on the couch. “nothing, i don’t have a problem.” you audibly laugh, she’s being ridiculous! you down another drink, closing the bottle. it makes you cough and gag a little.
“if you didn’t have a problem, you wouldn’t have fucking punched abby for talking to me.” you start to go to your room, wanting to sleep it off.
“stop.” she says. you do as she says, you don’t know why but you do. “sit down.”
you walk over to the opposite side of the couch and sit down. she sits up from her laying position.
“i just.. she has fucked almost every girl at school. i don’t want you being one of those girls.” you burst out laughing, not believing what’s being said to you right now.
“are you serious, ellie?” you look at her in disbelief. “you do the same thing as her! i knew it was gonna be a simple fuck, i knew that and i didn’t care! so fucking what if a girl has some built up tension, am i not allowed to release it how i want? god, you’re immature.”
she stares at you blankly, before pulling you in and giving you a hug.
“you’re better than that, y/n.” she says into your shoulder. “if you needed it that bad i’d rather you come to me than an ass like her, god at least we know each other.”
what?
you sit there in disbelief as she continues to hug you.
“ellie, what? do you even know what you’re saying?” you stare at her as she begins to pull away.
“y/n, i..” she trails off, just staring at you.
“you need to go to sleep.” you say flatly, getting up, tossing her a blanket, and going to your room. you didn’t wanna deal with this now, and hoped it was all just some fucked up dream and everything would be normal in the morning. ellie would be back to her playful self, the two of you back to being best friends. you get in your bed, too lazy to undress and take off your makeup, and drift off to sleep.
the next weeks were completely different. ellie hardly talked to you, and she was bringing more and more girls home almost every night. she stayed out until the early morning, waking you up with the moans of the girls in her bed.
it made you sick.
you hardly ever saw her, either. she’d try her best to avoid you, but the rare occasion where you’d turn a corner and bump into her only made her turn away back into her room.
regardless, you decided to have your own fun. you’ve been texting abby off and on, and the two of you only got so far as making out at parties, parties ellie was at. the two of you would make eye contact whilst your mouth was in abby’s, hers in another girl. but why should you care? she was the one avoiding you. she was the one who said you should just be friends with benefits.
you were studying when you get a text on your phone.
abs: hey, i’m throwing a kickback tn, u coming right?
you sit for a minute, wondering if this is really what you need.
y/n: ummm idk what kind
like crazy or chill
abs: chill
just a few friends
u can bring dina n jesse if u want
you contemplate, and decide it won’t hurt anything if you go. you type abby your reply and inform jesse and dina.
abs: starts at 9 don’t be late
y/n:🙄
you start getting ready, it’s only 7 so you don’t have to hurry. you decide to fuck with abby a little, and put on a tight dress she won’t be able to resist. you start on your makeup when you hear the loud moans coming from your roommates room. you try to ignore it, try to focus on your makeup, but it’s so damn loud. you stand up, frustrated, and march to ellie’s room. you raise your hand, about to pound the door and tell her to knock it off, when you hear something.
“y/n.. fuck- ugh” it’s ellie. there’s not another girl in there. it’s her making the noise. you can’t help but feel the heat rise to your cheeks hearing that. you think about breaking her door down, but you’re frozen listening to her whimpers and pleads. “fuck- put my- kids.. fuck!!”
“ellie…?” you softly knock on her door. it feels like all the sound from the world has been removed. “ellie, you okay..?”
you hear shuffling. “just- what? do you need something?” she sounds annoyed, scattered.
“i heard you saying my name i just-“
she swings open her door. she’s messy, her hair is ruffled and sweat beads on her forehead. “what do you want?”
you just sit there and stare at her in disbelief. her cheeks are a bright shade of pink and she’s slightly out of breath. her smell is intoxicating.
“i just heard you say my name and.. wanted to see what was up..” you trail off. she doesn’t say or do anything, just stares at you.
“where are you going?” she asks, as if she wasn’t just caught moaning your name.
“oh um.. abs is throwing a little get together..” you say coyly.
“and you’re wearing that?” she snaps back. why was she so upset?
“look ellie- i don’t get what your fucking problem is-“
“i’m going, let’s go.” she says bluntly.
“ellie, you’re not even invited, it’s a small thing.”
“so? i know jesse and dina too, im not gonna be your little plus one. cmon ill drive us.”
rolling your eyes and arguing with her as you follow her to her bike, she hands you a helmet. “relax, y/n. what’s she gonna do?” she hops on and you follow behind her, climbing on the bike and wrapping your arms around her. “hold on tight.”
when the two of you eventually arrived after you pleaded with ellie to stay back, abby looked pissed. the night consisted of a few drinks, dina and jesse cuddling on the couch, and eventually leading to a game of truth or dare.
you were sat right next to abby, her arm around you, and ellie across the living room. it was small, only about 20 people. you were shocked abby even allowed ellie to be here, she barely even paid mind.
“abby, truth or dare?” you hear an unfamiliar girl ask.
“dare.” she says, almost as to impress you.
“i dare you to…” she looks around for a moment. “kiss alexis.”
the room got quiet, all eyes on abby. everybody know alexis and abby used to fuck on the low, but people assumed you were with her now. abby wasted no time getting up and almost making out with her, making you annoyed and your stomach churn.
“i’ll be right back, gonna get a drink.” abby says, getting up and going to the kitchen. the atmosphere was off.
“um, yeah me too.” alexis says, running after abby. “abby, can we talk?” you hear her say in a whisper.
“umm.. okay fine, ellie then, truth or dare?” a random guy asks ellie.
“dare.” she says whilst eyeing you.
“play 7 minutes in heaven with y/n”
you shoot dina a look, and start nervously looking around the room at everyone. ellie gets up from her seat, walks over to you, and practically drags you to abby’s half bathroom, shutting and locking the door. the two of you are mere inches away, smelling the alcohol on her. you had a few drinks, giving you a little liquid courage.
you two are so close, and the air almost feels thick, hard to breathe. she’s leaning against the wall, just staring at you and waiting for you to do something.
“we doing this or not?” you say bluntly to her. immediately, she grabs your face and starts making out with you roughly, catching you off gaurd and causing a moan to slip through your lips. she pushes you against the counter and lifts you onto it, placing herself between your legs. it’s too intimate, whenever you’d pull away, the two of you would make eye contact before smashing your faces together once again. you’ve always wondered what it’d be like to be one of the girls on the other side of ellie’s door, to be the one ellie makes whimper and scream.
“what the fuck is going on in there?” you hear abby shout, followed by dozens of knocks. ellie doesn’t stop, though, and only becomes more aggressive, grabbing onto your thighs. she pulls away for a moment.
“does your little girlfriend make you wet from just a kiss?” she says, staring into you. “i can feel it against my jeans, doll.” the loud bangs from abby are drowned out and all you can hear is your guys’ breathing. “tell me, y/n. does she make you feel the way i do?”
“no, no els she doesn’t.” you pull her back into a kiss as she reaches her hand underneath your dress, and discovers you’re not wearing any underwear.
“dirty slut, you knew this’d happen huh?” she doesn’t waste time before one of her fingers begins pumping into you. “you’re mine right? tell me.” she adds another. you feel dizzy, it’s too intimate. i mean, you were here with abby, now you’re getting fingered by your best friend?
“els i…” the pounding on the door only grew louder and louder, your heart racing. her index and middle fingers pumped into you at a rapid pace, her palm grinding against your clit. you wrap your arms around ellie’s neck, pulling her closer. “this.. this is wrong..” you want to pull away, you want to shove her off and open the door for abby.
right?
“do you want me to stop, y/n?” she says before kissing along your neck. “tell me to stop and i’ll stop.” she continues to pump her long fingers into you. “do you want me to stop or do you wanna cum on my fingers while your little girlfriend is trying to rip me to shreds?”
“f-fuck… fuck- no dont, don’t stop ellie.” she uses her free hand to hold your face and forces you to look at her.
“atta girl.”
“ellie i swear to fucking god i’m gonna kick your ass!” the door is on the verge of breaking, splintering sounds coming from the door. all the tension is pushing you further and further to the edge, ellie overtaking all your senses. you’re drunk on her. every pump of her fingers into your hole and rub against your clit by her palm only pushes you further and further, and she can tell.
“y’gonna cum? cum all over my hand, cmon give it to me.” she whispers. her pace speeds up and one, two, three more pumps and you’re coming undone on her, biting her shoulder and squeezing her neck tightly to muffle your moans. “there we go, that’s my girl. my fucking pussy.” she says, working you through your orgasm. you feel like you’re in a trance, like the world stopped for a moment.
that moment ended with a loud CRACK coming from the door.
536 notes · View notes
thecreelhouse · 2 months
Text
crystal clear
Paring: Steve Harrington x fem!reader
WC: 14k (i am so sorry)
Summary: What started as friends “helping” one another out, turns into something much more than either of you anticipated. Secrets are revealed, mistakes are made, and confessions are confessed.
This is the 3rd and final part of this lil unnamed roommate trilogy! You can find part one and part two here!
CW/Tags: language, smut, PiV sex, oral sex (m & f receiving), cum play, super brief anal play, free use, praise kink, humiliation kink, switch!steve & switch!reader, cockwarming, choking, jealousy, angst. Lots. Of. Angst., hurt/comfort everywhere, internalized biphobia, weed mention, happy ending i promise!!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
A/N: this took way longer to write than I expected, and apologies for the late post, I had too many technical difficulties 😭 major thanks to @stevenose for hyping this up and helping me on some parts<3 this one’s long as hell, and there’s a LOT going on, but I hope y’all that enjoyed the first two like this one as well. thank you for the support on the others!! <3 title is from a hayley williams’ song by the same name lol.
“Is it weird yet?”
The first time either of you asked the question in the backs of both of your minds, Steve had you bent over the bathroom sink, pulling your hair, forcing you to watch as he railed into you relentlessly.
You can’t remember who asked first, but neither of you answered it. Not out loud, at least. You were too busy moaning Steve’s name to worry about the question.
“Isn’t this kinda weird?”
The question came from you, after Steve came home from a failed date, a failure you silently celebrated. He was in a funk, not expecting anything, but you offered, so how could he say no?
Because turning down the offer of you riding him until he cried—his request, comfortably carried out by you enjoying the mini power trip over your roommate, seemed foolish. You did your best to hide how smug you felt that Steve’s date didn’t work out, so when you offered to cheer him up, and he begged on his knees to touch you, you’d be insane to turn down the opportunity.
“People do this? But that’s… weird, isn’t it?”
 “So… what if you’re not in the mood? ‘Cause I don’t wanna initiate anything when you’re not feeling it. Like, I get that’s the whole point, but I’m not trying to make you feel uncomfortable—”
You’re laying on Steve’s bed, the morning after fucking around when you got home from the bar. It didn’t last long, with the two of you too drunk, too tired, getting handsy but being clumsy messes while laughing and falling over one another multiple times.
Instead, you fell asleep in his arms, and you wanted to kick yourself for it.
You’ve been trying to distance your feelings from whatever kind of roommates-with-benefits dynamic had appeared between the two of you, but fuck it wasn’t easy.
“What if I wear something specific when I’m cool with it?” You suggest, tugging on the scrunchie on your wrist. “If I have this on my wrist, you’re free to do whatever.”
Steve was leaning against his dresser, arms crossed as his eyes were glued to your figure, barely covered by an old shirt of his while it clung to the softest parts of you.
He wishes you didn’t look so goddamn cute in his clothes.
“Uh— yeah. Yeah, that works, I guess— ” Steve pauses to overthink. Again. “Are you sure this isn’t too weird?”
“Babe,” It slips out, making you stall as you sit up, clearing your throat to brush past it. “If I thought it was too weird, would I be the one to suggest this?”
Steve blushes, in the way where it’s so much red across his face, it blooms to the tips of his ears. He can feel it, brushing his hair over his ears, ignoring the look you give him.
“Right… Uh, so what should I do? Like, to show you I’m cool with it?” Steve’s puzzled on how this even works, or who would find this hot to begin with. Yet with each confession of what turns you on, the quicker it is for him to get harder with every, and probably any fantasy.
“You want a scrunchie too?” Steve rolls his eyes, but it doesn’t dim the red hue across his face. You giggle at how flustered he is while pulling a thin, black hairband from your other wrist, holding it out. “Would this work?”
Hesitantly, Steve takes the hairband before slipping it over his hand. “Okay, but… What if someone says something?”
You snort, “First of all, it’s just an elastic band. People won’t know. And if anyone’s inspecting your wrists that closely, they’re just fucking weird.” He slips it onto the other wrist, the one his watch is always on, hoping it blends in better. “Steve, now I can’t see it.”
He rolls it over his hand before stretching it between his fingers, playfully shooting it back your way. “Fuck it, I won’t use anything.”
“You sure? That’s— what if I did something when you’re not in the mood?”
“I’ll tell you.”
“Immediately?”
“Immediately. I swear.”
You’ve appreciated how easy it’s been to talk about whatever either of you want, or don’t want. This roommates-with-benefits thing might’ve been awkward, still is if you’re being honest, but talking about boundaries from the start with Steve gave one less thing for the two of you to worry about. 
He rubs his jaw, lost in thought. “What’s it called again?”
“Free use, but If you’re not comfortable, or just want it to be one sided, don’t be afraid to tell me.” 
“N- no! ” Steve shouts quickly, immediately embarrassed by how desperate he sounds. “I mean… what’s off limits for you?”
You smirk, twirling the scrunchie between your fingers. “Nothin’. You?”
Steve exhales a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Uh… I wanna say nothing, but… if something happens that I’m not cool with, or you’re not cool with, we can stop, right?”
“Yeah, Stevie. We’re not doing this if either of us aren’t into it. If I do something to you that you don’t like, tell me, okay? It’s just like fucking around any other time, but a lil’ more… exciting.”
With a scoff, he sits next to you on the bed, “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were bored when we fuck. You never sound like you’re bored when you’re shouting my name.”
You elbow his side, ignoring the way your stomach flips, “Shut up, I didn’t mean it like that.”
“How’d you even find out this was a thing?” His curiosity’s going to kill him someday, he just knows it, but he can’t stop himself from asking. “I doubt those romance novels get that filthy.”
“Um…” You retreat into yourself, growing shy. “I might have, like, a teensy tiny stash of some… movies… and stuff.”
Steve’s face lights up like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
“You? Since when?!” He’s smirking while regret sets in; should’ve kept that one to yourself.  “Wait. Why haven’t I seen you in the back at work?”
Laughing, you admit, “Steve, why the hell would I go where you work to rent porn? I’m not that much of an idiot.”
“Well— I- I wouldn’t make fun of you, y’know.”
Again, you bark out a laugh, “Bullshit, you totally would, especially if you saw wh—” You freeze eyes darting away as your laughter dies in your throat. Steve’s lit up like a fucking city skyline now.
Why, oh why did you have to be cursed with such a big mouth?
“Say it,” He taunts, a smirk growing on his face. “Tell me.”
“Harrington, I’m not telling you a damn thing.”
Steve nods a few times, like he understands, then shoots a mischievous look. “Where’s the tapes?”
“That’s none of your business!”
“Neither was your vibrator dying, but look, it brought us to some good things, right?”
“Th- that’s different, Steve.” You can feel your face heating up, your skin prickling as he puts you on the spot, hand resting on your thigh as he studies your expression.
Leaning in, his voice drops low as he asks, “How different are we talkin’?” His palm is warm, long fingers already close to your heat without even trying.
“Steve…” The warning tone in your voice means nothing to him right now; your gaze follows the direction his hand heads in, inching closer to where you want him most. Where you always want him. Where you always need him.
You expect him to stop, but his fingers ghost over your cunt, covered by the sweet, heart-patterned fabric of your panties— his favorite pair. You shiver as he adds some pressure, slowly rubbing along your sensitive core.
“What, did talking about being used like a slut make you wet already?” Steve taunts, chuckling as you roll your hips forward, trying to chase the feeling he’s barely giving you. “Tell me where the tapes are, and I’ll give you what you want.”
You shake your head, biting your lip to hold back any noises that might give him satisfaction and an ego boost. He mocks you with a pout and a whine.
“Well, guess I’ll have to find ‘em myself,” Before you can register what Steve says, he’s out the door and rushing to your room, while you’re left to shake yourself out of the fog of lust he left you in.
“H- hey! Don’t you fucking dare!”
When you make it to your room, Steve’s on his hands and knees, snooping under your bed. “Not there…”
“Steve, please, ju- just drop it.”
“Why?” He’s having way too much fun teasing you like this, but you’re embarrassed, wishing you could take your confession back. He’s casually opening drawers in your dresser, peeking inside each one with no success. “You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t want me to see.”
 “I— there’s some stuff I wanna keep to myself, I didn’t mean to say anything.” You’re digging your nails into your palms as they roll into clenched fists.
“Thought you liked being humiliated?” When Steve brings it up, it’s part of the teasing, until he looks up to see your uncomfortable body language. He steps away from the drawer he was digging through before making his way to you.
“Hey, I’m sorry,” He comes over to you, cautious as he watches the way your fingers curl into your palms and tense into fists, while you look at the floor, trying not to cry. “I promise I didn’t see anything. And I- I’m sorry for invading your space.”
Steve looks ashamed, and you feel bad. He didn’t know your tears were serious, but you’re already consumed by your own emotions.
You finally look at him, bottom lip curled into a wobbling pout, eyes glassy, “Can I be alone for a bit?”
“You- Yeah, f’course,” Steve automatically wants to comfort you, but he fights it off, just like the time you came home after your awful day, giving you the space you need. “I’ll be…y’know… yeah.”
Steve gently shuts the door behind him, leaving you to cry in the comfort of your own solitude.
···························
A few hours pass, with Steve spending most of it curled up on the couch, trying to mindlessly watch a movie, but he can’t get his mind off of you. He feels horrible that he didn’t catch onto your emotions earlier. He was hoping you’d come out by now, but you’ve been holed up in your room since you asked him to leave.
In the few moments he wasn’t consumed by his guilt, Steve’s thoughts would be spinning, trying to figure out what was on those tapes that would make you so upset if he saw them. Maybe you were just into kink. He wouldn’t judge you for that, everyone’s got their own… interests. 
What if they contained something violent, or dark? Again, he wouldn’t judge you, but he’d be concerned for you and your safety. Then again, if it’s between two consenting adults, it’s none of his business.
Still doesn’t stop him from wishing it was his business.
All this time, up until the vibrator incident, Steve had every right to believe you were such a sweet, innocent person. Now, he’s not so sure, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing.
Steve’s so wrapped up in his own spiraling thoughts, he doesn’t hear you open the door, or walk into the room. Instead, he notices you when you drop a cardboard box on the floor near him, startling him out of his layered overthinking.
“Holy fu— ” He sits up and rubs his eyes before locking his view with yours, heart sinking over how tear stained your face is. How swollen your eyes are. Had you been crying this whole time? “… Hi. What’s— are you— ” Steve’s unsure what to ask first: “what’s in there?” or “are you okay?”
You make it a point to sit on the floor, far from Steve. Crossing your legs underneath you, you’re beginning to pick at your nails nervously, unable to look at him.
“That’s what you were looking for earlier,” You rasp, fighting off another wave of tears. 
Steve’s tempted to rip the box open immediately, but he restrains himself. “Honey, if you don’t want me to see, it’s okay. I had no right to dig around earlier, even if I was just joking. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I- I’m so sorry I did. And if it makes you feel better to keep this to yourself, we can forget about all of this. I’ll never bring it up ever again.”
His sweet, apologetic rambling just makes this heavier for you to bear. You lean into your hands, face buried in your palms as you groan, frustrated. “Steve, sometimes I wish you were a dick, because it’d make shit like this so much easier.”
“What are you talking about?”
“At this point it’s just… look, it’s probably for the best you know about this, since we’re fucking around.” You murmur into your hands. “Let me know when you’re disgusted and want me to move out.”
Steve’s brows furrow, really concerned now. “I’d never… I don’t want you to leave. Why would you think that?” 
You sit up but look away from him, giving a weak gesture towards the box. “You’ll see.”
Again, Steve hesitates, but you look at the box as you still avoid his gaze, nodding in reassurance. “This isn’t a trick, or anything. I’m letting you— I’m showing you what you should know.”
So, carefully, he opens the box’s flaps one by one before peering inside; Steve slides off the couch and to the floor next to the box, pulling out a tape.
It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before; some tacky porno, with sleazy cover art and a corny title. It’s got your standard, generic shot of a man fucking a woman from behind, with her hands bound in front of her and a blindfold over her eyes. 
“This…” He stops himself before finishing with ‘is nothing’, because maybe it’s still a big deal to you. “It’s not worth getting yourself upset over. Why’d you think I’d hate you for this?”
You shake your head. “That’s not the one I’m worried about. I didn’t take anything out, figured I might as well show you everything. Keep going.”
Steve sets the tape on the coffee table before reaching into the box again, pulling out another tape. Similar design layout, but the cover photo is of a woman sitting back, pulling her legs up and back with her, while a man slips a plug into her ass. Steve flips the case over, finding the same couple, positions switched while the woman rims the man.
Steve chokes down a moan, thrown off that you’d be into this, and yet, it’s still not shocking enough to him to warrant kicking you out.
“Y’know this isn’t that bad either, right?”
“Yeah, that’s not the one I’m— you’ll know it when you see it.” You murmur, looking over at Steve, clearing his throat as he adjusts himself on the floor, playing it off like he’s finding a comfy position to sit in. You wish you could tease him over this, but you hold off, knowing he’s going to hate you any minute.
Steve continues plucking tapes out of the box, examining each one, still unsure what would have you so distraught if he were to find out.
Bondage? No big deal. Choking? He kind of figured out you liked that the first time the two of you fucked. It’s common. Free use? You just broke that down for him, so it can’t be what has you upset.
One of the tapes has a few kinks sprinkled throughout; gangbangs, exhibitionism/voyeurism, orgasm denial, femdom—
“Jesus, this one’s got everything, huh?” Steve tries to break the tension, but you don’t laugh. “This… this was the one, right?”
You huff out a mirthless laugh, pulling your knees to your chest before resting your head on them. “I fucking wish, Steve.”
He can’t stand how hard this is hitting you right now. “I don’t need to know, not if it’s going to hurt you. Seriously, it’s your business, whatever it is, and that’s okay. We all have our secrets, right?”
“Jesus fucking christ, Steve.” You scoot over to him and the box, digging to find the one you’re worried about.
“Hey, wait— ” He holds your arms softly, looking into your cry-worn eyes, only making your bottom lip quiver again. “Seriously, you don’t… whatever you’re hiding isn’t for me to know, clearly. And I’m not going to take something that personal to use as leverage to kick you out— why would you even think that? I love living with you. No weird kink is gonna change that.”
The last part almost makes you laugh. Almost.
You wish the way he said he loves living with you didn’t make your stomach flip, either. Any other conversation, that'd be one of the sweetest things he’s ever told you, but you know that’s going to change once he’s too disgusted with you.
When Steve stopped you, your hands had already grabbed the tape. You pull it out, tossing it on the table before pushing yourself back, away from him as you anticipate the worst.
He’s quiet for a bit as you watch his eyes fall on the cover, taking in every detail, flipping it over to read whatever the corny summary says. He looks back at you and just shrugs.
Steve just fucking shrugs.
“Threesomes are… not a big deal. Like, at all.” He doesn’t say this to belittle you or your feelings, more to assure you that there’s worse to worry about than liking porn about threesomes.
You start crying again, silently, as you hug your knees to your chest again. “God, Steve, please don’t make me spell it out.”
As his brows furrow while looking over the tape again, he gives another shrug. “I feel stupid— ”
“You’re not stupid, I promise. I’m just scared to say it out loud to you.”
“Okay, two girls, one guy, having consensual sex together. I genuinely don’t g— ” It hits him, and he feels a little sick, not from your silent confession, not from the topic itself, but the fact he didn’t get it sooner. He hates how he dragged this out, only making you more upset. “... Oh.”
You’re not straight. You clearly still like men, but attraction doesn’t stop there for you. He glances down into the box, finding another tape, one of just two women together. It looks like the one peeking out under that is similar, too.
“Yeah. Yep, okay, there it is.” You push off the floor to your feet, sniffling. “Well, it was cool being friends and… whatever the fuck, but I’ll pack and get myself out as soon as I can.”
Steve scrambles to get up, following you down the hall as you head towards your room, beating you to the doorway. He stops in the frame, blocking you from retreating to the bedroom.
“We’re talking about this. You can’t just… you can’t just drop that and expect me to brush it off, or be disgusted with you. Neither are happening.” Steve’s tone is firm, but everything he says is with care. Your eyes well up with inevitable tears. “Hey, honey, look at me.”
You try pushing past him, but he refuses to let you in. “Stevie, p- please— ”
“No, enough with the hiding. I know this is scary to talk about, but please, don’t shut me out.” He moves into your room, gently pulling you in with him to sit on your bed. “Can I be cheesy and thank you for sharing something so personal? That’s not easy for anyone, but you still did. Even if you thought you had to, that took guts.”
You reach for a pillow to cry into, and Steve doesn’t stop you, just lightly hangs his arm across your shoulders. You lean into him instantly, hugging the pillow for a moment before abandoning it, wrapping your arms around him instead.
“I thought you’d hate me,” Your voice is so small and shattered; it kills Steve that your fear has been weighing so heavy on your mind and heart. “That’s why I was so scared for you to find the box.”
“Nothing could ever make me hate you, angel. I’m sorry I caused so much stress for you.” He hugs you tighter, wishing he could take back these last few hours.
“It’s not like you knew. I’m not mad at you, Steve. I should’ve told you sooner.”
That shouldn’t make Steve huff out a laugh, but it does. The noise he makes turns into a silent, shoulder shaking laugh as he holds you. You’re so confused.
“Steve, what the fuck? You just told me— th- this- none of this is funny.”
He tries to control his laughter, and he does, but only for a moment. A quick pause to kiss your forehead. You push him back, reading his expression, still bewildered.
”I’m sorry, I— ” He runs a hand through his hair as he stifles his laughter, more successful this time. “— lemme grab something quick, okay?” Steve doesn’t wait for an answer, just gets up and rushes to his room, snickering a few times to himself. You’re left baffled.
What the fuck just happened? And what the hell is so funny?
There’s sounds of some movement floating out of Steve’s room, soft grumbles of “where the hell did I put that?” and “jesus this is heavy”, making you smile, ever so slightly. He’s only gone for a moment before he returns with an old milk crate, carrying VHS tapes and magazines, it looks like.
Steve sets it on the bed next to you. “This… this is funny.”
Your brows furrow, still trying to understand what the hell he’s talking about.
“You can look, y’know.”
Most of the content is tacky porn, just like yours, mostly straight couples—
Wait.
You’re about to grab a tape, one similar to the film you showed Steve; another threesome porno, but this one has two men, one woman. It doesn’t take you more than a second to get it.
You snap your head up to look at him, holding the tape up, lost for words. “Are you— shut up. You’re joking.”
Steve leans back against your headboard, hands behind his head, almost appearing smug, but he just finds the coincidence really fucking funny. Sure enough, he starts laughing again. It’s not cruel, nor does it have a sharp edge. It’s just his usual warm, sweet laugh.
“I’d never joke about this. I swear.” His smile is like sunshine peeking out from behind the clouds on a stormy day, making you feel comfortable, happy, even. You’re not alone in this, you don’t have to be. Feelings aside, Steve proves time and time again how thoughtful and kindhearted he is as a friend; a completely different person from who he tried so hard to be back in high school.
“You didn’t have to tell me— n- not that I’m upset you did, just hope I didn’t pressure you to say something by being such a crybaby.”
“No, no way. When you said you should’ve told me sooner, I figured well, shit, I might as well come out to you, too.” Steve admits, “Honestly, I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but I was scared you’d hate me.”
Your heart sinks; why does coming out have to be such a nerve-wracking event? Sometimes even dangerous if you confide in the wrong person. You’re grateful that’s far from the case here.
“I could never hate you, Steve. Never ever.” Though sincere, your attention falls back on the crate, eyes dancing over all of the tapes and magazines when a certain photo sticks out like a sore thumb.
He notices the way you pause, eyes falling on the familiar white border of a Polaroid, peeking out among the mess of filth. He lunges to grab it, but you beat him to it. Your jaw drops with a gasp at the lewd image.
“Steve, this is— ” He reaches out to grab it, but you push back, stumbling as you stand before rushing across the room, Polaroid in your hands. You stare at the photo in awe.
Striding across the room, Steve makes his way to you, about to grab the photo from your grip, “Give it back— ” You hide it behind your back while you’re against the wall, tucked in the corner with a smirk.
“Fuck no, this is karma for making me cry,” You giggle, causing relief to wash over Steve. He’s not even mad about this. He’s just happy to hear you laughing after today. You spin around, head ducked against the wall, studying the photo. “You’re so pretty on your knees, Stevie.”
Steve ignores how your comment makes his stomach flip, sneaking his hands around you to snatch the photo back. Eyes rolling, he jokingly grumbles, “Yeah, yeah, you had your fun.” You twirl around, attempting to grab it back, but he effortlessly holds it high above your head. He tries playing off the blush that rises up his neck and to his cheeks over your comment.
You can’t help thinking, How’d you even fit that into your mouth?
Steve chokes on air, eyes wide, “W- what?”
Apparently, you think out loud now.
“M’sorry,” You whisper, cringing at yourself. Steve just shakes his head as he clears his throat between laughs. He ends up sitting at the edge of your bed, tugging you closer to him, hands in yours.
Glancing up, he locks eyes with you while softly asking, “Are you disgusted by me?”
You stare at Steve, unsure if he’s joking or serious. “What? Because you’re not straight? No way, why would you even ask— ”
He holds his arms out with a lazy shrug. “There ya’ go, there’s my answer to you, too.” It takes a minute for you to understand what he means.
Why does he always have to be a smug little shit when he’s right?
“Okay, wait. Why the fuck were either of us worried? We’re both still friends with Robin, even after she came out.” You and Steve lock eyes before bursting out into laughter. 
“It- it’s different when it’s just a friend!”
“Thought we were just friends.” Steve forces a teasing tone to his words, but maybe you’d answer differently this time.
“Well, yeah, but— it’s different since we’re fucking.”
So much for that.
It’s silent for a beat before Steve mutters, “We’re both morons.”
You smirk, “Now, that picture on the other hand, disgusts me,” Steve’s smile falters, your words making him nervous. “Because it looks like you’re totally better at deepthroating than I am.”
His jaw drops, face flushing red. “Okay, listen—” 
“That’s a compliment, I promise!” 
“Uh-huh, sure.”
Steve plucks the scrunchie on your wrist back, letting go to softly snap against your skin. “This still okay?” Your breath hitches as you nod, feeling a hand slide to the small of your back, bringing you even closer to him. 
“You- you don’t have to ask, that’s the whole point,” You rasp, trying to suppress the breathy, light groan threatening to break. 
“Oh, I know,” Steve gets up, smirking down at you over how flustered you look. “Just wanted to make sure.” He slides past you to reach for the crate of filth before leaving the room.
Resisting the urge to let out a disappointed groan, you mutter under your breath, “Are you fucking kidding me?”
“I’m not,” Steve quips as he walks by your room. Now you groan dramatically, and he just laughs while making his way down the hall.
Two can play that game.
You find Steve in the kitchen, looking around in a drawer, until you come up behind him and slam it shut. Startled, he jumps, and you take the opportunity to flip him around to face you, hands grabbing his hips before pinning him to the counter.
“Whoa— ” Steve’s eyes are wide at the abrupt maneuver, “—what are y- you- oh, shit.”
In the blur of manhandling him, Steve didn’t realize his pants are already around his ankles, not until you begin stroking him slowly. He grips the edge of the counter as a shuddered breath slips out, watching you from under hooded eyes. 
You spit onto his length, coating his skin for a smoother glide, one that makes his hips buck roughly, challenging the grip you still have on one of them. When he settles down, you lick slowly along the underside of his cock, eyes locked on his as your tongue makes its way to the base, then down to his balls. 
As you begin lapping and sucking, Steve’s head falls back against the cabinet, a classic move you usually make; halfway through one of the prettiest moans he’s made yet , he grumbles an “Ow, what the fuck?”
Naturally, you laugh, but with him in your mouth, the sensation of your muffled sound replaces his ruined moan with another. “Fuck, fuck— honey, I- god, I need you.”
His words bring you back to his shaft, one hand toying with his balls, while another reaches around to squeeze his ass, all while you take him into your mouth fully. “H- ohmyfuckinggod,” Steve’s face contorts into an expression at the crossroads of being pained and absolutely blissed out.
While you bob up and down on his cock, making him rasp out an airy cry when he hits the back of your throat, your hand on his backside inches towards his taut, sensitive hole. 
He shivers, overstimulated by all three of your actions, “H- hey, angel, you… fuck… y’don’t gotta do th—” His words die on his lips, replaced by a throaty groan as your finger gently circles the tight ring; you moan around him, and he’s a goner, spilling into your throat without much warning.
You were going to leave him with a ruined orgasm, but another idea pops into your head.
“Fuck, fuck m’so sorry,” He’s babbling apologies as his hands fly to your head, holding you down onto his cock, still using your mouth as a personal cum dump. His chest heaves as his high winds down, hands letting up on your head, too.
Back on your feet, you kiss him roughly, but as he allows you in, you’re swapping spit with cum; surprised, he whines into your mouth as he pulls you against him, kissing back with a desperate, pathetic fervor. His fingers dig into your hips, tongue gliding along yours while he tastes himself. As you break the kiss, you murmur against his lips, glistening with the lewd slick, “Swallow.”
With a wicked smile, you step back and watch as he follows your command, adam’s apple bobbing before his mouth falls open with heavy pants.
You stretch up to kiss his cheek, whispering, “Good boy,” before turning on heel, leaving the room quiet, and a breathless Steve who feels filthy.
···························
The next day, you’re up early to catch up on some priorities, including some chores. You’ve got your headphones on while vacuuming, bopping around and (poorly) singing along to I Wanna Dance With Somebody while sweeping the hallway. Both the music and high pitched, droning suction of the vacuum block out any sound, especially Steve sneaking up behind you.
In one swift motion, he pulls your shorts down and pushes into you immediately. The surprise stretch makes you cry out in a little bit of agony, and a whole lotta’ bliss. You’ve got one hand on the nearest wall, while the other keeps you balanced on the vacuum handle as he lifts your leg to go deeper.
Steve rips your headphones off, “Are you always this fucking wet?”
You can’t answer, not with words, not when every and any thought has been fucked out of your head already. All you can do is whimper as your eyes roll back further with each rough slam into you.
The harder he thrusts, the closer you move to the wall, until you’re completely shoved against it. One hand wraps around your hip, the other tangles into your hair to pull you out and bend you over even more. All that holds you up is the wall against your chest, shoulders, and head, along with his grip, departing from their original spots to tug your arms behind your back and restrain them.
“Stevie…” 
“This what y’wanted? With your gross, little fantasy?”
You shake your head— not the easiest when you’re shoved against the wall— pouting, and Steve immediately slows down, almost completely. “What’s wrong?”
“More,” is all you can rasp out.
“More… what?” Ever so slowly, he begins to move again. It’s still not enough.
“H- harder,” You murmur, and Steve mockingly hums in understanding, shoving himself to the hilt, knocking the wind out of you. 
“Was that it?” He’s asking but he knows the answer.
“Faster,” Your needy little whine is just what he wanted to hear.
His pace picks up, unforgiving while railing into you, “That’s my girl.” 
It doesn’t take much longer for Steve to climax, leaving you dripping, without release as he pulls out, satisfied. He swipes two fingers between your folds before they slip inside you, pushing his cum back into your entrance, laughing cruelly at the way you clench around him and groan tiredly. 
Steve pulls his fingers out and brings them to your face, tapping your lips with the sticky, pearly slick covered fingers. “Open.” You obey, and gag as he shoves his fingers back farther. They slip back out, and he squeezes your face, mocking you from the night before, “Good girl.”
As he retreats to his room, you’re left alone, still an aroused mess, barely holding yourself up against the wall while trying to catch your breath.
···························
In the last few weeks, you’ve grown more comfortable with less clothing around Steve at home. He’s not complaining, especially later that night, when Steve watches you pass his room with the infamous vibrator in hand. Your outfit of a comfy bralette and shorts earns a double take from him.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’ with that?” He smirks at the bothered look on your face, probably still wound up from being used like a toy earlier, abandoned without your own climax.
“Shut up, Steve.” You grumble, but still stop in his doorway, flicking the switch on the wand on and off. Nothing happens, and you pout. “I think it died.”
“So… put new batteries in?”
“No, it’s like, dead dead. This was the third round of new batteries I put in, and still, nothin’.” You sigh with a shrug, “Eh, good riddance, I guess.”
You’re about to leave when Steve murmurs, “Not like you need it now.” Your face heats up and something pulls in your lower stomach.
“I mean… I do.” You walk away, and Steve follows you out the door.
“Huh? Why? You’ve got me.” It’s supposed to be a teasing joke, but it comes out more sincere than Steve intended.
“I- I’m not gonna just expect you to be in the mood whenever I am and need to… y’know.” Flipping the garbage can lid open, you drop the defunct sex toy into the trash. “Thanks for the memories, you stupid, janky wand.”
Steve snickers, “Yeah, the best memory being the day you needed my help.”
Ignoring him, you grab a glass from one of the cabinets, heading to the sink, but he leans against the edge to block you from the faucet.
Steve smirks; this could be fun. “And no, I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me?”
“See, that’s why I like my vibrator. It can’t sass back like a certain someone.”
“There’s many ways to shut a certain someone up.” You shove Steve aside and he scoffs. “Alright, well, next time you need to get off, don’t come crying to me.”
When he leaves, he ends up in the living room, turning the TV on before flopping onto the couch.
You frown and crinkle your brows as you shut the faucet off, muttering in a mocking tone, “Don’t come crying to me. Blah blah blah.”
“Heard that,” Steve flips you off, and from where you’re standing in the kitchen all you see is his arm shooting up above the couch, making you giggle. 
“Wasn’t trying to hide it.” You shuffle over to the couch, about to sit on the opposite end of Steve, but he lets his arms fall open lazily, looking at you expectedly. “What?”
“C’mere,” He whines, forcing a pout. 
You narrow your gaze, setting your glass on the table. “My vibrator wasn’t this needy, either.”
Steve leans forward, grabbing your hand as he pulls you back down near him. You yelp, landing next to him, fidgeting a bit to get comfortable. “Yeah, well, your vibrator wasn’t this hot, so is it really that much of a loss?” His arm hangs over your hip, while the other reaches for your back; he traces mindless patterns along your exposed skin, prickling as you shiver.
With your back to the TV, its glow slips over you and onto Steve, illuminating his features as the two of you grow into a comfortable silence, as your hands lazily wander his body. It’s only sweet, gentle caresses from the both of you, something you wish you could get used to. Something, a small, mundane detail you wish the two of you had in a relationship. 
Except, there is no relationship, and you have to remind yourself often you can’t become more attached and attracted to Steve than you already are.
You’re just friends.
“This is… kinda nice,” He murmurs as you duck your head under his chin, cuddling closer.
Just friends. Just friends. Just friends.
“Y’know, if you ever just wanted to, like, hang out like this… I’m cool with it if you are.”
“‘Hang out’, I didn’t know cuddling had a new name,” He softly teases, embracing your frame. “Hey, I’ve been wanting to ask you something, you got a minute?”
“No, Harrington, I’m actually late for a meeting at…” You turn over to read the wall clock, glancing back at Steve, “… 8:36 p.m. We can reschedule for tomorrow though!”
“You’re the worst.”
“But I’m the best at being the worst, right?”
He doesn’t answer, just gives a drawn out, exasperated sigh before letting his head fall forward, onto your shoulders while he sneakily pushes his pants down. Just enough to free himself. He rests there for a few moments before he pulls the fabric of your shorts aside, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance. You whimper and push back against him right as he guides himself into you. The stretch, as always, renders you silent as you adjust to his size.
“Is this what I have to do when you won’t shut up?” His arm winds around your neck, bringing your back flush against his chest; he’s not choking you, but when his arm flexes around your throat, your walls constrict around him. “Yeah, thought so.”
You wait, but no movement comes. No rocking his hips into you, no slow, teasing thrusts; Steve just lays behind you, buried deep in you, enjoying the way you squirm.
“I wanted to get you off to make up for earlier, y’know, just trying to be a good friend,” The last two words came out with an edge. “Trying to reward you for being such a good little fuck toy,” His arm tightens a bit, adding the tiniest bit of pressure; you throb around him, shuddering. “But now, I think you can just keep me warm instead.”
“Steve, please… I- I‘ll be good, I’ll be so good,” You babble, desperate for some kind of movement, some kind of friction, anything. He tightens his hold on you a little more, laughing breathily into your ear as you try moving. You gasp, “Touch me, p- please?”
“I’m already touching you.”
“That’s not what I mean!” You’ve got a short fuse when he riles you up just to drag out the teasing.
Just like the first time, neither of you know when to quit.
“Okay, so what do you mean?”
Whether it’s from the teasing now, or being used earlier. Maybe it’s both, mixed with the feelings you have for Steve that are getting too overwhelming. Whatever the case, you get pissed off enough to touch yourself instead.
“I didn’t say— ”
“I don’t fucking care what you didn’t say, if you’re not gonna do it, I will.”
Sometimes the tension makes you mean, and it’s something Steve likes, but refuses to admit, with his words, at least.
His throbbing cock inside of you, on the other hand, has no problem telling the truth.
“Well, fine, guess you don’t need me then,” Steve’s arm loosens from your neck as he begins to slip out, but with all of your strength, you reach back to hold him in place. It’s an awkward position, sure to make your arm sore tomorrow. You open yourself up a little more, throwing a leg back over his.
“You’ve been teasing me non-fucking-stop, asshole. Least you can do is stay while I get off.” Your fingers try finding a satisfying pattern to tease your clit with, but you’ve been so spoiled with your stupid toys, and Steve, it doesn’t feel the same. Doesn’t feel as good.
You can feel the smirk Steve makes as he leans against your shoulder, looking over to watch your hand and fingers struggle to keep you blissed out.
“Aw, honey, is it too hard for you?” He kisses the back of your shoulder, then slowly makes his way with more up your neck. Your breath shudders as you clench around Steve, just from his words alone. “Doesn’t feel as good as that toy, huh?”
You can feel hot tears begin to surface; you’re angry that you can’t make yourself feel good, angry that he’s taunting you after trying to take over and show him you didn’t need him.
But you do need Steve, and that’s been fucking with you so much since the first time the two of you kissed. That alone had you soaked, but right now, your own fucking hand isn’t cutting it, and you’re angry at how embarrassing this is.
Sure doesn’t stop Steve from humiliating you, though. “Doesn’t feel as good as my hands, hm?”
You bite your lip, holding back groans of frustration, but Steve can feel how tense you are.
“Must not feel the same as my tongue. Not even close,” he murmurs into your ear, kissing the skin behind it, then back down to your jaw. “No way those fingers can ever feel like my cock.” He nips at your jawline, “I bet you can’t get rid of that ache between your legs, not without my help. You need me, don’t you?”
Steve slides his hands onto your chest, tugging the bralette down before roughly, yet slowly, grabbing you. He pinches your nipples, enjoying the view of you arching into his touch, whimpering as your hand slows down on yourself, defeated. 
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what, Steve?” You spit through gritted teeth. He grabs your face to bring your attention to him. Something flashes across his eyes at the sight of you near tears, not lust, not desire, but you can’t figure out exactly what it is. 
“That you need me.” You tighten around him, already giving your answer. He smirks, but again, something’s hidden behind that dominant exterior, past the pleasure over humiliating you. 
What the fuck is he hiding?
“I d- don’t,” You lie, but your wobbling pout gives you away immediately.
“Angel, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I can help you.”
You’ve abandoned touching yourself completely, exhausted and embarrassed. Holding one another’s gaze, there’s a softness in Steve’s eyes that makes you finally break. “I- I need you, Steve. Please?”
One hand still teases your nipple while the other slides down, down, down, reaching your waistband before he pulls out completely, causing you to whine in protest.
“Hang on, angel,” He pulls your shorts off completely, leaving you bare before gently sliding back into you, groaning, “Wanted t’really feel you.”
Sex with Steve has usually been rough, or fast, or both. It’s usually needy with desperation to get off. Sometimes there’s a fantasy one or both of you want to fulfill.
This… this is different. Just like the look Steve held, you can’t figure out what is different, but it’s not bad.
In fact, you might like this the most.
“You want me to move?” Steve asks, and it’s not cocky. It’s not the demeanor he was teasing you with before. 
“I don’t— do whatever, just need you to touch me,” Your whining is pathetic, but at least he finally reaches down to where you need him. His fingers slide between your folds, groaning when he meets the slick of your arousal. He’s slow, not painfully slow, rather careful as he thrusts into you. It’s soft, and you can feel every inch of him, really feel him.
“This okay?” His breathy question is just above your ear while he kisses along the shell of it.
“So, so okay.” This position might be your favorite, with the way he’s so deep in you, forcing your eyes to roll back into your head as he fills you completely. You lean back into him, and he takes one look at you before leaning in to kiss you, like he knew what you were silently asking for.
It’s soft, languid, the kind of kisses that make you squirm with a certain need, one he’s fulfilling right now.
Pulling back, his lips barely touch yours when he teases, “You’re s- so tight… y’really like it soft, huh?”
You only answer with a nod and a whimper, leaning in to kiss him again, but he moves back with a smirk. It’s not taunting, for once. He’s just really enjoying how turned on you are right now. How much he’s turning you on.
“I like it w- when we— god, fuck— when it’s…” You’re struggling to find the right words, fucked out already. Steve still watches you, listening intently as he can feel your walls pulse around him “… Intense, but this is s- so— oh!”
It’d almost be embarrassing how fast he can push you over the edge, but it feels far too good to care. You shake against him, tensing up as your head lolls back against his chest, jaw dropped in a silent moan. Then, it finally slips out, and it’s loud.
“Good girl,” Steve murmurs, kissing your temple. “Doing so— fuck— s- so good for me.”
Before you can even rest, he convinces you to let him keep going, give you more pleasure, murmuring how you’re ‘his girl’, how you can take one more, just ‘one more’.
By the third round, Steve’s question is long forgotten by both of you.
···························
“Why am I taking the backroads again?”
“It’s a… nicer ride. Just trust me.”
Steve drove along the lonely, winding road. The sunset began to blanket the sky in hues of oranges, purples, and pinks. 
“Okay, but… you know it’s a longer drive this way, right?”
You’re leaning over the seat to unzip his pants, and Steve freezes, but not before hitting the gas by accident. He only speeds up a little before catching himself. “Are you trying to kill us?!”
“I only touched your pants. Are you really that sensitive?”
“I- I just didn’t expect it— I’m driving and trying to be safe.”
“Yeah, and I bet you look both ways before making a turn, too.”
“I do!”
You pull his cock out, half hard already, and waste no time leaning down to lick up the precum already beginning to seep out.
“H- hey!”
You pull off. “What? Don’t want this? I can stop.”
“This- it’s just— unsafe.”
“Is that your only complaint?”
“Well… yeah, I gu— shit- ” Steve tries suppressing a moan as you take him in completely without hesitation, and the sound that leaves him just sounds strangled and pained. He white knuckles the steering wheel while your eyes water, gagging around him.
Not a soul to be found on the roads, and Steve’s still nervous he’ll hit something. Or someone. But you’re humming around him, and making these sweet, little gagging noises, he has to remove a hand from the wheel to pull you off of him.
With his strong hand, he yanks you back, still focusing on driving. “I thought you’d like this,” You pout, backing off as you settle back in your seat. “I’m sorry.”
“I do, but I- I think I like it a little too much. As much as I want you to finish, I need to make sure we get to Robin’s... Um, alive.”
“Okay, well… What are y’gonna do about that,” You point to his crotch, cock still hanging out of his pants, flushed red with need with precum still pearling at the tip.
Steve sighs, exhaling roughly through his nose, thinking for a moment as he drives on. He mutters a quick ‘fuck it’ before grabbing you by the hair to pull you back onto him. He doesn’t miss the mischievous smirk that flashes on your face before he shoves your mouth onto his cock.
“You— mnfph— that’s it, just— oh, g- god— relax, angel, relax that p- pretty throat f’me,” His cock twitches against your tongue, making you moan. “Wish I could fuck your face right now.”
Popping your mouth off of Steve, he catches a quick glance of your lips covered in your spit and some of his own mess, “Fuck…” You wrap your hand around his length, stroking him slowly.
“Kinda wish we did this on the highway instead,” You murmur as your lips attach to his neck, sucking the sensitive skin softly. Steve’s eyes almost flutter shut, but he forces himself to grip the wheel and keep his eyes on the road. “It’d be kinda hot, huh? Trying to do this without gettin’ caught.”
“Uh-huh…”
“Soooooo… If I keep going, can you finish before we get there?”
Steve’s answer comes in the form of his hand on your head, twisting his fingers into your hair before shoving you back down on his cock.
···························
It’s under an hour since you and Steve got to Robin and Vickie’s new place, where she said it’d just be a small, casual housewarming party, and two things have you incredibly bothered right now:
This party is anything but small— you didn’t think Robin even cared about this many people to invite them over.
Steve’s kissing someone else right now.
While wandering around to find Steve and ask if you could leave early, you stumbled upon Steve playing goddamn tongue hockey with someone else.
If it happened when you and Steve were just friends, you’d be happy for him, genuinely. Hell, even if the two of you were FWBs and you had no feelings for him, you’d be thrilled he felt comfortable enough to kiss someone tonight that wasn’t a cis woman.
Shit, you’d even be a solid wing-woman and cheer him on for any action. Yet your feelings for him just turned it all into envy. Nothing but envy coursing through your veins. You had no right to say anything in the first place, because it’s not like the two of you were actually together.
It still didn’t settle your jealousy, or the overthinking triggered by the mixed signals he’s given over the last few weeks. The audacity, too, for Steve to pull this only hours after you fucked… just one hour after you gave him road head—
Yeah, you had to leave, ASAP.
“Hey, where ya’ goin’?!” Robin slurred after you, too drunk to get up and check if you were okay.
So you just call over your shoulder, “This was fun, but I gotta go home!” And you knew damn well you weren’t fooling anyone with the way your voice wavered; you hoped everyone was too drunk or distracted.
The front door creaked open as you hurried down the porch steps, relieved to breathe some fresh air, at the very least. The soft song of the crickets in the woods kept you company.
Your arms are crossed over your chest, shielding yourself from the breezy spring air. You wish you didn’t leave your jacket in Steve’s car, but this was better than having to see him kiss someone else.
Until a familiar BMW pulls up alongside you on the empty street. 
Harder to shake than a cold.
Rolling the window down, Steve calls out, “Angel, why are you trying to walk home?”
“Don’t you have a throat to shove your tongue down, or something?”
Steve taps the breaks as he mutters, “Fuck.”
“Surprised y’all didn’t do that, either.” You continue on, and he continues following you in the car.
“Please, just let me drive you back? Don’t have to talk to me or anything.”
“No thanks, I can get home on my own just fine.”
Steve hits the breaks, sighing as he throws the car in park. He steps out of the car, leaning on the roof. “Yeah? What direction is home?” You spin around, walking backwards as you throw your arms out, exasperated. 
“Fuck you, Steve.”
He bites his tongue, resisting the urge to say some stupid shit like “Already did”; riling you up wasn’t the answer right now. You angrily point in the direction you’ve been walking, continuing on with all the confidence in your body. 
“Try again.” His remark makes you whip around, flipping him off, before marching on in the wrong direction again. 
Okay, he deserved that, at the very least.
Steve jogs to catch up to you, though it’s not like you made it very far, stumbling over your own feet. You’re about to lose your balance when Steve makes it to you, just in time, catching you mid-fall.
“Alright, c’mon,” He groans as he attempts to get you stable on both feet, before slinging your arm around his shoulders, and yours around his waist. He guides you back to the car, not giving into your little grumbles and protests as he helps you into the passenger seat.
An agonizing silence settles between the two of you on the ride home, and you’re not sure if you can break the silence without crying. So you don’t. Steve has no problem speaking up first anyway, otherwise, the silence will just send his anxiety skyrocketing.
“I’m sorry,” He sounds sincere, as always. He tears his eyes from the road for a moment to glance at you, only feeling worse when he can really see how hurt you are. “I didn’t… I didn’t think it was like… that. With us, I mean. And I’m sorry.”
“S’fine,” Your voice wavers with weakness, “I know what this was. I- I knew what we were getting into. If anyone should apologize, it’s me, ‘cause I had no right getting jealous.”
Steve forgets his response immediately, pausing a moment to take your words in.
“You were jealous?” He almost sounds pleased to hear you admit this.
Oh, god fucking dam—
“….. No?”
“You literally just said you got jealous.”
“I- I don’t— shut up. You misheard me.”
“Oh, I did?” Steve Harrington can be such a smug and snarky motherfucker sometimes. “What’d you say then? Just wanna make sure I hear you correctly this time, honey.”
You fire back, “Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Should I just call you a brat instead?”
“You know what, Steve?” You glance over and he’s still smirking like an asshole. “Don’t talk to me for the rest of the ride. Or the rest of the night.”
His face falls. “Why not?”
You don’t answer, just cross your arms and tilt your view to the window, watching the world pass by.
“Are you really gonna shut me out? Over this?”
Again, you hold back any responses. Let him dig his own grave at this point.
“You’re the one who kept saying we’re just friends.” As he reminds you, his fingers are clutching the wheel tightly, eyes glued to the road. “You’re the one—“
“No, Steve. You are the one who said from the start friends can fuck around. You said ‘what are friends for?’ after you went down on me.”
So much for your petty silence.
“You continued it! You said ‘this is what good friends do for each other’, and that fuckin’ around is just helping each other out. How was I supposed to know you wanted more?”
Steve had a point. You tried lying to yourself that you ended up sending the wrong signals his way. 
“I— Look, I’m sorry I kissed someone else. And this doesn’t excuse hurting you, but did you ever think maybe I was doing my best not to fall for you?” As he pulls up to the apartments, he sinks into his seat, sighing. “I should’ve been honest from the start, or maybe should’ve ran out for batteries instead of fucking around with you and both of our feelings to begin with. I’m sorry.”
You’re exhausted and intoxicated, out of energy to continue this. Unable to look at Steve, you mutter, “Can we just… talk about this tomorrow?” There’s no chance for him to answer, because you’re already out of the car and making your way through the lobby and to the stairs. 
···························
Steve took his time returning to the apartment, wanting to give you space, but also in case he got upset enough to cry, too.
He was so, so fucked, and now… he fucked everything up. Sure, you didn’t make it crystal clear how you felt about Steve when you could’ve so much earlier. But it’s not like he did any better.
When he enters the shared space, everything’s dark, and quiet. He figures you went to sleep, since your bedroom’s door is closed. To his shock, though, he finds you asleep in his bed.
Maybe you mistook his bed for yours while being drunk and tired. Steve’s unsure if he should sleep on the couch, to give you more space. But maybe you fell asleep here purposefully. Or maybe you waited here for him and eventually passed out, too tired and upset to keep yourself awake.
You’re half covered by the blankets, wearing only your panties and his shirt again, the one you’ve practically stolen at this point. Steve notices your scrunchie still on your wrist, the subtle symbol you’d give if you were in the mood for free use play. He also notices the way your skin is prickling up; you’re definitely cold, but you’re too drunk to wake up and do something about it.
Steve reaches down and slips the scrunchie over your wrist, setting it on the nightstand, then pulls the covers over you. Immediately, you curl into the blankets, making the softest hum of contentment, falling deeper into sleep. 
Or so he thought.
As he changes and strips just to his boxers, Steve hesitates, questioning again if he should sleep here, or the couch. Consumed by trying to make the best choice, mainly for you, your hand reaches out and grabs his leg weakly.
“Stay?”
Your eyes are red, both from exhaustion and crying. Steve feels awful.
He also can’t pass up an opportunity to tease you lovingly. “Honey, I appreciate the invite, but this is my room.” Your hand lifts to flip him off. “Yeah, there she is.” He huffs a quick laugh out, before double checking, “Are you sure you want me to stay? I- I can give you space if you need.”
“I need you, not space.” You roll to the other side of the bed, throwing the covers back. “Please?”
Steve felt his heart ache; this wouldn’t make the dreaded conversation any easier by morning, but he didn’t want to say no, because in some backwards way, the two of you need one another right now.
He crawls in next to you, pulling the covers back up over both of you. He holds himself back from reaching out for you, an action that’s become second nature over the last few weeks.
Instead, he asks, “Can I hold you?” Steve hates the way his voice cracks with longing, giving away how awful he felt. For himself. For you. For the both of you. It wasn’t supposed to end up in this strange suspension between lust and love. It should’ve stayed a one time thing, if at all.
Only silence comes from your side of the bed as you’re already falling back asleep. Steve turns over and hopes sleep can come that quick for him, too.
····································
When morning arrives, you wake up peacefully, naturally, and with a major headache. 
“Fucking christ.”
You roll over, realizing the other side of Steve’s bed is empty.
Wait. Why am I here?
You didn’t forget last night, but you can’t come up with a good reason as to why you decided to fall asleep in Steve’s bed instead of your own. Not a justifiable reason in sight after the car ride home.
Blinking a few times as you adjust to the bright light, something on the nightstand catches your eye.
It’s a note, with a water bottle and your cute little pipe with a packed bowl. A smile joins your features as you read the note. 
hey, angel. figured you might need these for the rough hangover. 
if you still wanna talk when I get home, we can. if not, we can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us. either way, you better stay hydrated today. or else. not sure what the ‘or else’ is yet, but I mean it. drink your damn water.
— steve ♡
While the note, the tiny heart near his name, and kindness behind it made your smile grow, your heart aches at one line.
We can do whatever makes you feel comfortable about us.
It’s sincere and considerate, like Steve is, other than last night, but he didn’t know. He didn’t know you fell for him during all of this, so could you even count that against him?
Steve’s more worried about your comfort in all of this than his own; he always does this, he always puts everyone’s needs and feelings first.
Before you can even fully wake up, you’re reaching for the phone on the table, dialing without much thought. It rings twice before a familiar voice answers.
“Family Vi— ”
“Robin! Is Steve there? Can I talk to him?”
“Yeah, hi to you too,” She deadpans.
“Sorry. Hi. Hi Robin. Hello. Please give Steve the phone, pleaaaaaasssseeeeeee— ”
She scoffs, and you can hear the eye roll she makes, “Oh my god, shut up, shut up. I’ll get him.”
“Thank you!” You’re a little too enthusiastic in your reply. It’s quiet for a minute until you hear someone pick up the other end’s receiver.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Steve’s immediately jumping into worry mode.
“Nothing’s wrong, why would something be wrong?”
“You never call here. Just… surprised me, is all.”
“Oh… well, look, I- I just wanted to say, about the note—” ”
“Was it too much? I’m sorry if I— ”
“Steve, shut up for a minute. Please.” He pushes a soft, quiet laugh through the phone. You can picture him with his arms crossed, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, leaning against the counter. Robin’s probably rolling her eyes. “We can… we can talk tonight. I didn’t want you to go the whole day worried about it.”
It’s silent on his end, other than distant, soft breaths. “You didn’t have to call. N- not that I don’t appreciate it! Just… y’know. I kinda have an idea of what’s coming. And it’s okay. I just want you to be—”
“Steve, I’m grateful you’re always looking out for me and my feelings, but that’s why I called. I want you to feel comfortable too, okay? Whatever works for you, works for me.”
“I— ”
“Steve, get off the phone! You can talk to your girlfriend later!”
Steve lazily covers the mic, but you can still hear him quip back, “She’s not my— whatever. Give me a minute.”
“Thirty seconds!”
“Jesus, what bug crawled up Keith’s ass?” You joke, earning a sigh from Steve.
“Definitely something annoying, like a mosquito.” He snickers back into the phone before clearing his throat. “Um… can we talk in… two hours? I can come back on my bre— ”
You cut him off anxiously. “Yes. Please. Yeah. I’d like that.”
“Okay, two hours. Yeah. Okay. See ya’ then.” Steve sounds nervous, rushing off the phone before hanging up first.
Two hours. Not that long. You should be fine.
Totally fine.
········································································
It’s been an hour, and you’re ready to move on from chewing your nails nervously, to gnawing your entire arm off.
Okay, maybe that’s a bit much. You’re still nervous as fuck, though. How can you last another hour like this?
You passed up the weed, wanting to be as sober as possible for the conversation, but you hate taking painkillers, so you keep the lights off and throw a pair of sunglasses on; the light is the worst for you with hangovers, but this barely helps.
Even worse, your head’s spinning and the constant stream of thoughts revolving around you and Steve make you dizzy. You stay in his bed, covers pulled up and blinds drawn to keep out the light, with your headphones on to block out any noise outside the apartment. They’re not even plugged into your Walkman, you’re just hoping the barrier of silence helps.
It doesn’t. You hear no sound, but your head is still pounding. Maybe you should’ve smoked after all.
The blankets are yanked back, startling you into a scream. It stops as soon as it starts when you see Steve. He’s chuckling at your reaction, and though you’re relieved to see it’s him and not some monster or masked intruder, your heart’s about to jump out of your chest.
Gently, he pulls the headphones off of you. “Sorry, honey. Uh… why are you wearing sunglasses inside?”
Every time he calls you that, or angel, you feel yourself melt. The hold this man has on you is insane.
“Hangover, lights suck, all that stuff.” You grumble, falling back onto the bed. Steve sits next to you. “I- I thought you said two hours?”
“Yeah… waiting was driving me nuts. So, I, uh, I left for the day.” He rubs the back of his neck, gaze shying away, but not before he notices you’re still wearing his shirt, and not wearing pants.
You’re shocked he pulled that off. “What’d you tell Keith to leave early?!”
“My great aunt’s in the hospital.”
You stifle a laugh, “Steve, didn’t you use that excuse a few months ago?”
His eyes grow wide. “Shit, did I?”
“Oh my god, yeah! You had me call to pretend— whatever,” You crack up, head falling back with a loud laugh. “You gotta keep track of these excuses!” You cradle your own head, wincing from the pain your own loudness brings.
“Hey, you didn’t— ” Steve’s eyes darted to the nightstand, about to tease you for not smoking yet, but you haven't touched the bottle of water either. “Jesus, no wonder your head hurts.” 
“I didn’t wanna be high when we talked,” You grumble, about to lay back down, but Steve holds you upward, handing you the water. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You take a sip. “Happy?”
Steve lets you go, running a hand down his face with a sigh. “You’re lucky I love you.”
You’re mid-sip before choking on water, struggling through a cough to ask, “I- I- did you— what did you just say?”
“Uh… good question. You heard that? I said that? Out loud?” Steve rambles a lot, but he’s great at it when nervous. “I think you’re imagining things.”
“Would’ve worked if I was high, but nice try.”
He groans with an eye roll, flopping onto the bed, landing on his back. His hands come up to cover his face, but you pull them back. 
“I didn’t want to say it like that.” His admission comes without eye contact as his face burns red. “I wasn’t gonna say it at all, honestly. I kinda figured out this is the end of things anyway.”
“Wait, what? Steve—”
“N- not that it’s a bad thing!” You haven’t let go of his hand, and he’s either completely oblivious or doesn’t want to let go. “I’m— whatever you decide, I’ll respect. We can go back to being friends, or even just… boring roommates, if you want.”
“Okay, but— ”
“And since it’s all out there— not saying this to make you feel guilty, or bad, or anything, but I- I thought these feelings were new, and it turns out I’ve felt this way about you since… probably the first week we lived here.”
Your heart aches, but in the best ways; you need to tell Steve you feel the same.
“Stevie, listen—”
“But I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. I can move out, if that’s easier.”
If only he’d shut the fuck up.
He’s getting himself worked up, and you wish he’d just take a minute to breathe. “Not, like, forcing that either, because if you just wanna be friends still, I- I’d be more than happy… and lucky to have you in my life still. But that’s- it’s— I’m not trying to—”
You’re growing agitated, wishing he’d give himself some grace. “Steve, take a second to— ”
“And I mean what I said last night, I’m so sorry for hurting you. I thought maybe it’d help distract me, but it just hurt you instead… I just fucked everything up—”
“Oh, for the love of— ” You swing a leg over his lap to straddle him, throwing your sunglasses off in the process. Leaning down, tone dripping with adoration, you murmur, “Steve, shut up.” 
You kiss him, hoping this pauses the overthinking. He’s stunned, expecting anything but this. The two of you have kissed plenty of times by now, but this one is everything to him.
Finally, Steve kisses back, earning a smile from you against his lips. You cradle his face in your hands as you feel his run along your back, holding you against him as any uncertainty floats away. Breaking the kiss, you don’t pull away, just admit softly against his lips, “I love you, too.”
He sits up, leaning back on his arms with eyes wide in disbelief, “You- are you- you mean it?”
“Of course I do. I wouldn’t suffer through a hangover for just anyone, you know. I wish it didn’t take the whole battery incident— ”
“You mean vibrator incident—”
“Oh, will you shut— it’s all the same! Anyway,” You giggle, a sound Steve adores, one that pulls a smile across his face every time he hears you. “That’s when I realized I had feelings for you. A- and you coming out just to make me feel better about coming out, that really woke me up… and, uh, do not let this get to your big head—”
“My head is not big!”
You narrow your stare, shutting him up. “… When I saw you with someone else, and it made me so jealous, I’ve never felt that with anyone before. I didn’t think it was love until you came looking for my dumb, drunk ass on the street.”
“Someone had to, you were on your way to fucking Canada if you kept walking in that direction.” Steve snickers, but kisses your cheek, softening the blow. You can’t help huffing out a laugh with him; honestly, he had every right to poke fun at your little stunt.
Your voice falls quiet, turns small, “I’m sorry I never said anything earlier, and that I kept pushing that ‘just friends’ bullshit.”
“Hey, if it makes you feel any better,” Steve tries steering you away from taking the blame, “You’re a way better kisser than they were.”
You snort, “You’re just saying that.” It doesn’t stop your skin from prickling up, or the heat that blooms across your face.
“I’m not, I promise. You weren’t kidding, they literally shoved their tongue down my throat. You running off gave me an excuse to leave, so… thanks.”
You can’t help teasing him, “What are friends for?”
Steve rolls his eyes for the millionth time before sitting up to push you back onto the bed. He climbs on top, and you tug at the ugly Family Video vest he still has on.
“Babe, get this stupid thing off,” You giggle, tugging it down his arms. He pouts.
“What? You’re not into it? I thought it was kinda sexy,” His brows wiggle with his joke, and you throw it onto the floor, glaring at him. “What if I wore that, and nothing else? Just the vest.”
You’re pulling his shirt off, throwing that to the floor, too. “Then I’d definitely kick you out.”
Steve leans down to you, murmuring, “You’d never.” His lips brush against your jaw, kissing along your face to reach your neck.
“You’re right, but— ” Your breath hitches, holding your words back as he continues to kiss down your neck. “—w-we definitely wouldn’t fuck for a long time.”
“Now that’s a threat I take seriously,” His words against your skin vibrate and tickle, sending shivers up your spine. Then, he stops, and sits back up.
“What’s wrong? What’d I do?” You instantly cringe at how pathetic you sound, but Steve doesn’t tease you for it, just kisses your forehead quickly before leaning over you.
“Sit up,” Confused, you listen as he takes all the pillows around you, cushioning and covering the headboard. As he comes back to you, he pushes you back softly. “Okay— ”
Now it clicks. “Oh my god, I’m not gonna hit my head this time, I swear!”
He smirks, “Better safe than sorry.” Stealing your chance to quip back, his lips are back on yours, and it’s the kind of tender kiss where he likes to draw it out, take his time. The kind that only makes you squirm from the start.
“Hey, what’s got you so worked up?” Steve pulls back, resting his hand on your face; he can feel the goosebumps on your face prickle up against his palm. His touch is warm, soothing, and easy to gravitate to; you’re certainly not immune to leaning into his hand whenever he does this. 
“Need you, Steve,” You breathe, legs closing underneath him to try and subside the ache between your legs. 
“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that,” He teases, pushing your legs apart, fixated on the damp patch on the fabric between your legs. You whine, rolling your hips against nothing, only showing how needy you are. “‘Cause if I did, I’d have enough to get you a new vibrator.”
You feign offense with a loud gasp, “I thought you said I wouldn’t need it anymore, ‘cause I have you instead.”
Steve doesn’t respond, just hooks his fingers under your waistband, pulling your panties down. His hands run up your legs, pinning you to the bed as he reaches your hips. It’s not like you were going anywhere to begin with, but the pressure and possessiveness feels… nice.
“You do have me,” The meaning behind his affirmation spreads far beyond sex. “Always.”
You reach for his pants as he leans over you again, “Don’t have you in me yet, though,” You grumble, hands fumbling with his belt buckle. Steve stifles a laugh while you struggle. “Who designed this fuckin’ thing anyway?”
“I thought we were having a sweet moment, but your sailor mouth’s ruining it,” His joke doesn’t make you laugh like he hoped. Instead, you just look frustrated, finally loosening his belt. “Whoa, hey— honey, look at me.”
A sharp exhale escapes your lips while you glance up at Steve, but only for a moment before staring off, “M’sorry.”
“We don’t have to do this, you know that, right?”  A finger slips under your chin, gently tilting your face up towards his. Your eyes meet his again, and he gives you the same soft, caring look he gave you a few nights ago. “I’m perfectly content with just hanging out the rest of the day, doing whatever you want.”
“I want to, I really do, I just… ” You try forcing your voice to come out stronger, more certain, but it just cracks as you admit, “I think I’m scared it’ll end so fast.”
Steve thinks back to the first time the two of you kissed, the first time you were fully exposed to him, the first time he went down on you— the first time anyone went down on you, how disappointed you sounded when it was almost over. He remembers telling you it could happen again, that it didn’t have to be a one time thing.
He remembers the way you hit your head against the wall, again, the first time the two of you fucked, and how he told you next time it’d be in a bed, helping you laugh off the clumsiness. You sounded so surprised that you even talked about the possibility of a ‘next time’.
Almost every time after either of you initiated anything sexual, your reaction was always shock and surprise when Steve talked about fucking around again in the future. There were more times where you begged him to not let it end yet, but he thought it was just in the moment.
Steve didn’t realize you meant you didn’t want things between the two of you to end. It wasn’t ever really in the moment. It was a fear you’ve had since the first time he’s touched you, and it’s a fear of Steve’s, too.
“Angel, I’m not going anywhere,” You move up against the pillows as he speaks softly to you, shifting with you to keep you comfortable while staying close. “I can’t speak for you, but on my end, I don’t plan on ending this fast. Or ever… but that- that’s another conversation for another day, okay?”
You nod, slipping your hand into his, “Okay.”
“Point is, this isn’t a one time thing. You really do have me. And when I say always, I mean it.”
There’s no hesitation in your response, “You have me, too, Steve. Always.”
“Let me take care of you,” His hand is cupping your face again, thumb sweeping along your cheek softly. “Get those awful thoughts out of that pretty head of yours. How’s that sound?”
You nod against his palm, hands coming up to hold his forearm as he holds you. “Please, Stevie.” Your eyes fall to his belt before reaching for it. You pull it off, adding it to the pile of his clothes. “That thing is the worst.”
“Won’t wear that one around you anymore, promise,” Steve chuckles as the two of you strip each other from any remaining clothing.
His lips find their way back to your neck, picking up where he left off with the gentle kisses. Your hands wander his body, tracing along the dips and curves of his toned arms. It’s easy to lose yourself in the scattered freckles and moles all over, making up constellations, a galaxy of his own. What brings you back is the breathy moan made from his touch along your folds.
It’s one finger, then two, and you’re arching your back, pressing yourself against him, dizzy from shallow breaths as he finds your sweet spot. His long fingers have no problem reaching where you need him most, not struggling the way you do when you touch yourself. 
Steve starts kissing down your body, but you grab him by the shoulders. “You okay?”
“Stay with me,” You gasp as he continues fucking you on his fingers. “I- I don’t— it feels good, but I wanna cum with you instead.”
A blush creeps along Steve’s face as a lazy smile curls up. He makes his way back to you, retracing his kisses with new ones, of course. When he rests his forehead against yours, his hand’s still between your legs.
“Still wanna make y’feel good first,” Steve’s thumb softly swipes over your clit while he continues working his fingers, curling them just right. “You can cum twice, you’ve done it before.”
Your fingers twist through his hair, bringing him towards you as you close the gap, trying to kiss him the way he was kissing you. Your hips roll onto his fingers, feeling your legs shake and your walls constrict around him.
Steve pulls back, admiring the way your face twists in an expression of beautiful agony, so, so close to the edge. He leans down to murmur into your ear, “That’s it, angel, let go for me”. Other praises follow, but you’re just at the point of no return, unable to hear him as you finally reach your high, a strangled moan slipping between your lips with ease.
Aftershocks roll through your body while you pant shallow breaths, vision a little fuzzy from your eyes squeezing shut, and Steve kissing your temple, then your cheek, with more gentle praises, ones you can faintly make out.
You’re barely settled, still in the comedown, but you’re pulling Steve closer, “Fuck, I love you.” He beams, knowing already he’ll never get tired of hearing that from you.
He spreads your legs, but stops to study your expression. Checking on you, he asks, “Are you sure you can handle one more?”
“Uh-huh,” You try to giggle, still breathless as you nod. “As long as it’s with you.”
Steve rolls his eyes, but you know him, he loves the corny little remarks you shoot back and forth. You know him. You know him so well by now, because he’s yours. And you’re his.
“Hey, angel?” He’s admiring your figure, still catching your breath, already blissed out with hooded eyes, and the sweetest smile he’s ever seen on your face. He lines up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he leans back down to you with a lingering forehead kiss.
“Y- yeah?” You shudder out, adjusting to him all over again. His hand slips into yours, fingers lacing together before he gives a gentle squeeze.
“I love you, too.”
The first night you had together, when Steve offered to help, it wasn’t meant to just be a one and done kind of fling. Maybe it felt like it back then, and maybe even last night, while the two of you fought over your feelings, it felt like it should’ve been an arrangement that ended long ago. But now? Now, everything’s so sure. Everything’s so certain.
With Steve, everything’s crystal clear.
It only takes the first thrust for the two of you to meld together with ease. It’s almost effortless, the way you and Steve can flow into and with one another. You’ve never felt like this with anyone else, never felt so comfortable, so at home within someone’s embrace, never felt such safety to be yourself completely.
At the same time, both you and Steve give each other the same, cheesy line, “feels like you’re made for me.” While neither of your movements stop, the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. Steve buries his head into your shoulder, while his shoulders shake along with the noise. Your arms wrap around him, laughing even harder when he realizes he can feel you laugh while deep in you. 
“Hey- h- hey wait, waitwaitwait!” He can’t control his laughter, and neither can you. “Every time you do that it— fuck!” He’s trying his hardest to calm down, hoping you can, too. “You gotta stop doing that, I can- you- fuck, you’re so tight.”
You cover your face with your hands, trying to kill your giggles, and slowly it works, leading Steve to calm down, too. With a quick kiss to his chin as he lifts his head, you flip on top, riding him immediately.
Any laughter still at the back of Steve’s throat dies instantly as you grind down onto him. You finally find a steady, slow pace to roll your hips; there’s no rush, there’s no fear it’ll all disappear when the two of you finish. It’s just you and Steve, nothing else, no one else.
No distractions or kinks or secrets, just the two of you, together.
“Honey, m’not gonna last if you k- keep this up,” he breathes, strong hands on your hips, gently guiding you along.
“S’okay, I- I’m close,” You whimper, hand splayed against Steve’s chest. “A- and we can just— ” You sharply gasp, walls constricting around him. “we got all the time in the world, Stevie. You have me, always.” Your head tilts back as pleasure consumes you both, feeling him throb while your legs shake.
Before the two of you reach that sweet high together, you faintly hear Steve respond, “Y’have me, too, angel. Always.”
819 notes · View notes
moonstruckme · 2 months
Note
Hi! I would love to see Steve being really affectionate with shy reader? Maybe at the beginning of their relationship when everything is really „big” for reader? Only if it’s something that you like. Lots of love and thank you! 🩷
Thanks for requesting!
Steve Harrington x shy!reader ♡ 745 words
Selfishly, Steve has an easier time being brave when you’re so clearly the nervous one. 
“So this guy, he wasn’t being a dick or anything,” he says, fingers loosely intertwined with yours as you walk down to the 7-Eleven, “but he just wouldn’t leave Rob alone. Couldn’t take a hint, you know?” 
You hum. Your hand starts to slip in his, and you tighten your fingers almost imperceptibly. Steve adjusts, taking your hand more securely in his so it doesn’t happen again. A bit of pink tinges your cheeks that he doubts has much to do with the warm weather. 
Steve doesn’t mean to fluster you, but if he waited on you to make the first move there’d be no moving at all. That said, he doesn’t mind flustering you either. You get this sweet, startled look on your face and sometimes you try to hide behind your hair so that he gets to move it away. He sweeps his thumb over the back of your hand to soothe you, and you press your lips together like he’s done something far more brash. 
“What did she do?” you ask.
“She told him we were dating.” 
“What?” You laugh, the sound starting up a pleasant buzzing in Steve’s chest. “But she tells everyone else you’re ‘platonic with a capital P’.” 
“Exactly!” He shakes his head, grinning at you. You smile back for half a second before your gaze drops to his chest. “He’s gonna find out as soon as he brings it up to literally anyone, and then she’s gonna have to cover her ass all over again. I don’t know why she does this to herself.” 
“Maybe she’s panicking,” you muse. “Just, like, saying the first thing she can think of.” 
Steve guesses you’d know something about that. The first time he’d tried to ask you out, he’d suggested going to the drive-in and you’d blurted that you didn’t watch movies. 
“Maybe,” he says, unable to mask the amusement in his tone (and not trying very hard, if he’s being honest). 
You look at him curiously, then shy at whatever you see in his expression. “Oh, I forgot.” You duck away under the guise of digging through your bag. “I got this off my neighbor’s tree today.” 
You hold a peach out to him, and Steve thinks he’s going to melt on the spot. His heart feels all heavy and made of mush. “No way.” His voice is soft, reverent. “You stole from your neighbor for me?” 
He takes the peach from you, and you immediately turn from his gaze, pretending to adjust your bag over your shoulder. Steve knows you didn’t really forget to tell him earlier; you just hadn’t wanted this display in front of your roommates. It’s cool. He’s fine with adoring you in private. 
“I didn’t steal it.” The smile is evident in your voice, and Steve waits until you turn back to shoot you the best one he’s got in return. The pink spreads to your ears. “I asked. They always say they have too many to eat by themselves.” 
“Still.” He thinks about mushing a kiss into your temple, but even Steve’s not feeling bold enough for that yet. He settles for wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “It’s sweet, thanks.” 
“It was no problem,” you murmur, tilting your head so your hair curtains your face. 
Steve is gleeful at this development. He reaches forward with his other hand to brush it out of the way, hooking what he can behind your ear. Your eyes flit to him bashfully. He knows he’s smiling like an idiot, but he can’t help it. It’s just the way his face likes to be around you. 
“Well, I appreciate it,” he says, then decides to put you out of your misery. “So, what kind of slushee are you gonna get?” 
“Mm, dunno,” you reply softly. “You?” 
“Blue raspberry every time.” He nods certainly. “Never wavered since I was a kid.” 
“I don’t think I’ve tried that one,” you say. “I usually get a coke and cherry mix.” 
“You can try mine,” Steve offers. 
“You don’t mind if I sip from your straw?” 
“I mean, I was thinking you could just kiss me to taste it,” he says. And fine, now he might be stirring the pot a little bit. It’s worth it when you put your face in your hands. Steve squeezes you tighter against his side, affectionate. “But that works too, yeah.” 
612 notes · View notes