#I'm trying to get back on the drawing grind though
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sincerealev · 5 months ago
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Hey chat, I'm back 🧍🏻 And with a Treebros collab mwahahahaha (of that one meme)
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Collab with my gf @devildarling08 💙 They drew Connor and I drew Evan, ofc. We had been wanting to do this one for like a few months now but just a week ago finally got ourselves to do it
Here's the full version of my drawing too 🤸🏻
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I drew a ton of details in the background and didn't want them to be left unseen 🫶
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seventeenpins · 6 months ago
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nightly
pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader word count: 1k summary: Joel is a mistake you just keep making. content/warnings: no specified Joel era so take your pick, dirty talk, literally all just smut, big dick, daddy kink, breeding kink, dubcon undertones, Joel is an asshole a/n: I have been struggling to focus on writing for a minute now, but the horny gods smiled upon me and let me get this together. Praise be to @ozarkthedog for always letting me run my godforsaken ideas past you. Love you lots 💕
You can feel the wet spot on the bed against your back. Joel has you folded like a pretzel, backs of your knees resting on his sun-freckled shoulders, wrists pinned above your head and ass suspended in the air as he drills into you. A single curl bounces at his temple, separate from the rest of his hair that's plastered with sweat to his forehead.
If you make the same mistake five days in a row, can you really still call it a mistake?
He's far too old for you, and a little too mean for you, but damned if he isn't the best lay you've ever had.
Eight inches, uncut, a dick so fucking fat you can barely wrap your hand around it. You can hardly believe he's buried balls deep in you right now. That your body can even take it.
"C'mon, honey, that's it-" Joel's voice is a growl, punctuated by heavy panting, "This pretty lil gash is fuckin' droolin' baby, my own personal slip 'n slide-"
"You're a crass old man," you whine.
"I sure am, honey," he agrees with a grin, "But don't think I can't feel the way you soak me whenever I talk crass, sweetheart."
"I hate you."
He laughs, and a bead of sweat rolls down his temple and along the curve of his nose, splashing onto your cheek. Unthinkingly, you dart your tongue out to catch some of the sweat. Joel's grin turns to a smirk.
"Hate me all you like. You're the one who's come over every night this fuckin' week. Monday through Friday, baby. Hate me so much you can't get enough of daddy's big dick, huh?"
"Fuck you, you're such an asshole-"
This jab is even less effective, punctuated with a moan and a whimper.
"Sure, sweetheart, I am. But don't pretend like we don't both know--you don't have to come here at all."
He grinds against you, coarse hair rubbing against your mound as if to further his point. Pressure hits your clit just right and it's bliss. You have to fully restrain yourself to stop from howling, and even then, you let out a ragged moan.
Joel clamps a hand over your mouth and looks you dead in the eyes.
"I love those pretty sounds, baby, but remember I got neighbors? Thought you said you'd die before anyone finds out about us."
You try to roll your eyes, but he thrusts again and you're caught in another moan. The glide of his body against your clit, especially when he's stretching you out so exquisitely? It's overwhelming. You try to stay quiet, you really do.
It's not your fault though, not when Joel's fucking you silly.
Now, though, he's frustrated.
"Quiet now, settle-"
"I'm not a fucking dog, Joel, I- ahhh-" you mumble and moan between his fingers, barely muffled at all.
"Oh really? Not a fucking dog? Wanna tell me then why you're tryna get bred like a bitch in heat?"
He smacks your cheek, drawing out another pathetic whine that only seems to cement his point.
He sneers. "Those pretty lil noises you're makin' for me? That don't sound like a good girl. That sounds to me like a nasty fuckin' slut who can't help but keep her legs spread so her daddy can fill her up good. Huh? C'mon baby. Tell me to cum inside."
"Fuck you Joel."
Suddenly, cruelly, he stops. Ceases any movement. Relaxes the grip on your wrists.
Panic overtakes you.
"What the fuck-?"
"Sorry sweetheart," he shakes his head, "You don't want this? You can see yourself out."
"No, I-"
You notice he's still sheathed inside you. You feel him do something, flexing his dick inside of you. Frankly, it's cheating.
"Please don't stop."
"What was that, honey?"
"Joooeeel-"
"Quit your whinin', use your words."
"Please fuck me."
"That ain't it, you know whatcha gotta say."
He starts rocking his hips gently, a slippery glide. It's not enough to stimulate. Just enough to make you want more. Need more.
The way you clench around him tells on yourself more starkly than your words ever could.
He's grinning again. "That's it, baby. You ready to admit what you need?"
"Come on, Joel."
"Cum where?"
You sigh. But you know you aren't gonna hold out any longer. He's pressing his thumb just above your clit and the glide of the motion is so fucking delicious it's hard not to buck against it.
Rut against it.
A bitch in heat.
"Fuck me, daddy-" you whine.
"You sound real pretty beggin'. Nearly got it honey. One more try?"
"Cum inside me."
"Mmmmm-" Joel groans, and the grip on your wrists tightens again. "Music to my ears, honey. Tell me where you want it?"
"Inside me, cum inside-"
"You want me to cum inside this lovely lil' pussy?"
"Please Joel-"
"That right?"
"Please cum in me, fill me up, fuck it deep-"
With that, his composure breaks and any restraint he had crumbles. Folds you deeper, fucks you deeper, pins you down and jackhammers into you.
You couldn't move, even if you wanted to, and that knowledge somehow heightens everything. It's blindingly bright, dizzyingly addictive. You barely notice the way Joel's lavishing you with praise, each deep thrust punctuated with good girl, good girl, good fucking girl-
When you cum, you feel the way his balls tighten as if in response, tipping over the edge mere moments after you. It could be romantic, finding yourselves cumming together, if there was any romance between you.
As you start to fade back down, you're able to pay attention again.
"That's it," he's praising you, and you realise his cock is still pulsing. You make to start moving, but he growls and holds you still. "That's right, sweetheart. Gotta let me fill you all the way up. Gonna make sure it takes."
Clarity starts to overtake you and you know that you've made a big fucking mistake. By the time you've come back to yourself, though, your pussy's flooded and pulsing oh so nicely, and Joel's pulling out of you. He moves into the other room and you hear him turn on the shower.
"You can let yourself out," he calls to you. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Your panties are sticky the whole way home.
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crimsonbubble · 1 year ago
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no bc just imagine how sexually frustrated miguel would be after chasing you around like cat and mouse… the breeding has entered the chat
cw. nsfw, afab!reader, breeding kink, creampies, hair pulling, degradation, overstimulation, a bit of manhandling, improper use of webs *not proofread, just pure horny
[I want him so bad why can't he be real 😔😔😔]
MINORS DNI!!
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he's getting tired of this, but your pretty eyes and soft lips draw in him each time he swore that he wouldn't fall for your games. as tired as he is, he always lets you get away with it.
letting you get away with it a little too easily. though now he's stopped his chasing, trying to keep himself occupied to stop himself from playing into your games. he can feel your eyes on him, burning into his back as he continues working through anomaly reports.
as you tried to sneak up on him, you felt something spread across your chest, wrapping around your arms. with a sharp tug, miguel pulled you into him. you collided with his chest, a hand holding his webs and a hand on your lower back. you struggled against the webs, only making him spread more around you.
miguel quickly tugged your mask off, a smirk playing on his lips as he saw the shock written on your face. "not so tough now, huh?" you struggled against the webs again, trying to pull yourself away from him. "don't try and run from me now, you earned this."
miguel let out a grunt, pushing you up against his desk. he pressed a heavy hand to your back, webbing your wrists together. with little to no care, his talons rip through the crotch of your spider suit. the cloth is torn to shreds on the platform. "you've been nothing but a pain in the ass,"
miguel takes in the sight of you bound in crimson webs and bent over his desk. "a real thorn in my side." you try to peer over your shoulder only for miguel to press your head down to his desk. "we're not done til I say we're done." he disengages his suit with a flash, grinding his throbbing cock through your folds.
"you're lucky I'm even letting you have my cock." he says this yet he's just as needy for you as you are for him. the back and forth, the pushing and pulling, the cat and mouse games; he loves them but sometimes all he really wants is to web you up and fuck you til your legs give out.
and that is exactly what he's going to do. miguel lets his own fantasies and desires lead him, letting himself act on his impulses. miguel bottomed out in one sharp thrust, your walls convulsing and tightening around him as he fucked you. each thrust was heavier than the last, hips hips knocking you up further onto his desk.
with the hand pushing your face into his desk, he's tangling his fingers into your hair, pulling your head back as he rocked his hips into yours. you can't get words out because of how rough his pace is. miguel set a hand on your hip, using it to pull your ass back on his dick.
every thrust in and pull back forced his cock deeper, stretching your walls to accommodate his size. you're practically seeing stars shoot across your vision, mouth hanging open with each moan and cry that leaves you breathier than the last. with how easily miguel is leading you to orgasm, you know that you're not getting out of this for a while.
"only the first and you're already this fuckin' messy, huh?" the condescending tone makes your pussy flutter, as miguel tracks a finger over your pulsing clit. he rubs circles against the throbbing bud as you tumble head first into another orgasm. "m-miggy-" the words are caught in your throat, being passed by lewd cries and heavy moans.
your slick is gushing around his cock, and the wet noises of skin on skin finally make it to your ringing ears. miguel pushes your head against his desk again, grunting as he speeds through his release. it's a flood of warmth as miguel keeps his pace, groaning as much cum spills out of you. "fuck, look at you. such a messy little thing."
you can't tell up from down as miguel guides you to another orgasm. you're trying to alleviate the heavy plows of his hips by raising to your toes, but it only motivates miguel to go even harder, as if he's trying to knock the sense out of you. your eyes are blurring with tears, the stinging of the overstimulation starting to bite.
in a feeble attempt at pushing miguel away, he pins your wrists against your back. he uses it as more leverage to pull you back on his cock, letting another heavy load paint your walls white. "it's okay, take it just like that." the moans he's letting out are deep and guttural, a noise you would've missed if you weren't being drowned in his mere presence.
you're struggling against the webs again, the tingle of the overstimulation reaching new heights. miguels superhuman nature granted him increased stamina and endurance, making it easy for him to ride out his second high while you're crashing through your third. "c'mon now, is that all you got?"
you outwardly whine at his words, pushing your hips back to meet him halfway. miguel leans down, his chest to your back as he kisses up your neck. his fangs pushed against your skin, lightly grazing it with a featherlike pressure. it's as if he's teasing the idea that he could sink his teeth in. he very much could but he wants you to feel everything that he's doing to you.
he's got you trapped, and he doesn't intend on letting you go any time soon.
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dixonsfawn · 1 year ago
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𖥔 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𖥔
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𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 ; eddie doesn't know how to stay still but you like it a little too much
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 ; eddie munson x girlfriend!reader, grinding, kinda thigh-riding, pet names, female orgasm, profanities.
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 ; 914 .ᐟ
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; repost from my old acc x
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there was an ongoing build-up of friction. the heat between your legs growing as you lay with eddie. your legs wrapped around his side, encapsulating one of his between your own. and every time he moved in even the slightest, you fought the moans daring to escape your lips. he didn’t know what he was doing to you — that he was causing you such pleasure simply because he didn’t know how to be still.
“you want a drink, baby?” he asks, leaning towards the pile of discarded water bottles and beer bottles he had yet to clean up, to gather you a fresh one.
his leaning, causes his leg to push right up against your heat, and you can’t take it anymore. “eds, stop moving!” you pout, slapping him on the chest lightly.
he pulls right back, brows knitted with deep confusion and a hint of worry. big dewy eyes staring at you, “why? what’s wrong?”
“nothing. you just keep moving and it’s…” your words trail off when your eyes pan down to where his thigh was being held hostage by your legs. he follows your gaze, quick to understand what was really going on.
“oh,” there’s a glimmer in his eyes, a knowing look, as he sees what he’s doing now, and a smirk begins to pull at his lips. “you don’t really want me to stop though, do you?”
he could see right through you. drawing your bottom lip in, you shake your head and a soft chuckle releases from him as he purposely moves his thigh again.
“eds,” you whimper his name, meeting his gaze once more.
through his lashes, and dishevelled bangs, he peers at you, pupils dilating under the dim light of his room. eddie’s favourite thing in the world was bringing you pleasure, helping you embrace your sexual side, but mostly just you — he loved you — and how trusting you were with him. it made him feel special. important. and to you, he was.
“you want me to keep going?” his voice is low now, watching as your chest rises when he moves his leg closer to your centre. you nod rapidly, panting when he pulls it away again. “move for me.”
you do as he says and slowly start to roll your hips against him. a moan escaping you as the texture of his jeans through nothing but the thin material of your panties rubs across your nub. the feeling sets your region alight and you thank yourself for deciding to wear a skirt that day.
as you continue to move, your sweetness begins to build, a slick developing between you and eddie. it makes it easier for you to move against him. a ball of pleasure grows in your stomach as eddie pulls your flimsy little skirt up, revealing your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. the cool touch of his rings causing you to hiss.
“fuck, eddie,” you moan his name, trying to keep your eyes on him, but they flutter closed from time to time. "feels s'good."
you cling onto him now, hands gripping at the thin material of his hellfire shirt, as the other reaches behind his head, getting tangled between his curls. it's then that he starts to help you move, his hand firmly grasping your ass as he does so.
"you like that, huh? you like moving your pretty little clit against me like that?" your eyes blow wide with desire, the wetness in your panties now transferring to his pants, but you knew that he didn't care. he loved getting your juices on him.
setting yourself into a steady rhythm, the sensation almost becomes too much as you jut your hips faster now, and eddie removes his hand from your ass to tilt your chin towards him. "i want you to look at me when you cum, okay? i want to see how good i'm making you feel."
you nod rapidly, brows upturning from the pleasure, and earning yourself a 'good girl'. eddie slides his thumb across your bottom lip, before pressing down to open it up.
“such a pretty hole.”
“fuck, eds.” you moan, his thumb rolling back and forth across your lips still.
"cum for me, baby. let it out." he says, making sure that your eyes remain locked with his, your mouth bursting open and body convulsing around him as the pressure that had been building finally comes tumbling down. "there it is." he lets out a breathy chuckle, forever in awe of how beautiful you looked when you reached your high.
you fall into him, trying to catch your breath, and after a moment you move to lay on your back spent, chest rising and falling dramatically as you stare up at his ceiling. "fucking hell." you sigh.
"you know i'm never gonna sit still ever again, right?" he leans towards you, snaking his hands around your neck, his rings no longer cool to the touch, and pulling you in for a heated kiss as you giggle. "that was so fucking hot."
"oh, i bet you liked it." you raise an eyebrow at him, hand reaching down to feel the stiffness in his pants.
"you could definitely say that."
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sordidmusings · 2 months ago
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Repetition - Ace x Reader
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Even though you’ve done a bit of fooling around before, it’s your first time sharing a bed. Ace’s mind keeps racing, and when he accidentally wakes you, you show him that you don’t mind.
Full fic now completed! Read here
A/N: Have this scheduled for if I don't get the first Between Two Points done by this time Saturday. Know I'm still typing away 🫡 Ace's is my fav so far so here's about a third of what i've got for him so far. Can work as it's own smut shot 🤷‍♀️ Title for the song that my brain's paired with this one, "Repetition" by Purity Ring.
Word count: ~1.4k
Warnings: afab reader, nsfw, begging, insecure and needy Ace, vaginal fingering, dry humping, almost coercion, praise, a heaping of desperation because it's what i need
Enjoy the pure filth ( ´ ∀ `)ノ~ ♡
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
“So good, sweetheart,” you sigh. He squeezes his grip on your ass and turns his face to find comfort in the smell of your hair. “Let me show you.”
You urge his hand a little lower, right to the hem of your shorts. You only stop when his fingertips slip under and tickle the skin right beside the swell of your lips. You want him to decide this on his own. He teases the elastic for a moment before trailing the pad of his finger over your underwear right where the seam of your pussy is, starting from your entrance up to your clit and back. Another content hum leaves you, encouraging him, and he swivels his hand to cup your heat. He shivers at the hot breath curling over his chest, and his head swirls happily when you arch your hips up to push your cunt deeper into his palm. 
This time it’s your own hand gripping your ass to spread you open for him. You arch and nudge into his hold more, unintentionally grinding over his cock in your writhing. His fingers twitch, teasing your clit, sparking it to life and leaving you wanting. He’s having trouble keeping himself tempered instead of writhing when he can feel the dampness of your underwear and how they slide messily between his palm and your pussy. He wants it coating his fingers, smeared on his lips, maybe one day he can feel it soaking his cock- 
“Touch me,” you whine impatiently.
Hasty fingers push under the band of your underwear and slip between your folds.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Ace moans. His voice is low in his chest but softened by his breathlessness. He takes his time petting around your entrance and enjoying the feeling of your lips slipping to encase his fingers when he flattens them out to reach your clit.
“Told you I was dreaming about you,” you mumble happily. Even though your body is heated and tingling, you’ve still got the weight of sleep pulling at you, leaving you in a content mix of dreaminess and pleasure. You relax further into Ace, happy to let him touch you as he likes in that tentative, worshipping way of his. It’s an endearing contrast to the brash and confident way he presents himself and fights. He always starts touching you like it’s an honor he doesn’t deserve, something he needs to take slowly lest he scare you off or never get the chance again. Even though you love the treatment, it breaks your heart that he thinks he’s so below you as to not deserve to touch you, let alone receive your affection.
The tip of a finger presses at your entrance, just enough to have the pad sink in. You swivel your hips to urge him further and moan when he listens to your plea. Ace moans with you, always amazed at your tight heat. It welcomes him easily despite gripping down snugly on his skin. He pulls his digit out with a curl, shivering when your muscles clamp back against him. You sigh his name in that dreamy way that makes him feel special, and he can’t help but add another finger and sink them in deep. Even though he’s in to the last knuckle, you shove your face down into his chest and your ass into the air to try and suck him in deeper. He rewards you by petting at your walls, drawing more pleasurable twitches from your cunt.
“More,” you whine. It’s half demand and half complaint and all turning his brain to mush. How quickly you are winding into desperation is only making his need grow. He needs to hear more from you, he needs you to fix the burning under his skin, he needs to fuck himself into a place so deep in you that you can never be rid of him.
“Need to be inside you,” Ace groans before he can think about the words. “Please, pretty baby, you feel too good-” he swallows thickly when you hungrily grind back onto his massaging fingers, “fuck, hah, need to know-” he can’t finish his sentence because you’ve snuck your hand down to palm his erection and stroke him in time with your thrusting hips.
“Think you’re ready to fuck me?” you ask. You meant to check in and make sure he was emotionally ready, but your breaths rushing out of you made it sound harsh.
“Please,” he begs, voice broken, holding you tight with his free hand, “I’ll make you feel so good- promise, promise.”
“I’m just worried-”
“It’ll be okay,” he promises immediately, “just a quick feel, you don’t even have to let me fuck you- just gotta feel you on my cock at least once.” He tries to win your favor by using his other hand to tease your clit.
“Ace,” you gasp. It’s hard to slow him down when he’s winding your body up so well. With a quick jerk, he shifts you up his body, giving him better leverage to work you on his fingers. It lands your face in the pillow next to his and he takes the opportunity to suck open mouthed kisses across your neck. You mean to talk to him and get a hold on how frantic he’s getting but all you can do is let out muffled moans into soft cotton. 
“I’ll be good,” Ace whispers against the shell of your ear. His breath is hot and humid and gets you one step closer to an orgasm lighting you on fire. “I’ll make you cum until you can’t worry anymore.” The fingers tweaking your clit and prodding your firming walls give weight to his promise. Your hips are already starting to stiffen and jerk with the oncoming climax. “I’ll keep begging, I’ll worship you, anything you want, just, fuck-” his voice breaks before he can stop it. “Please let me feel you.”
Ace feels like he can’t get enough air; he won’t be able to breathe if you pull away - he’s sure he’ll suffocate without you. His whole body is pulsing and alive with urgency, not just the cock straining against his pants. The only thing that’s keeping him grounded is you. Your pretty sounds slipping out, half-covered by the pillow. Your searching hands, grasping and working his body over in search of something to hold on to. Your weight blanketing his chest, ebbing and flowing in waves with your heavy breathing pressing into him. Most of all, the slick, plush grip of your cunt around his fingers, singing to him in little wet slaps every time it welcomes his fingers back home.
“Ace, I’m-” you turn your head towards him so he can hear and find him already looking at you. His flush is deep enough to try and hide his freckles and his pupils are blown enough to turn his brown eyes black. His slack jaw lets your breaths mingle. The pressure of his fingers on your clit increases just the slightest bit, but it’s just right to get your body to clamp down and not let go. “I’m so close, gonna cum, please, love-” Ace sobs out a moan at the new pet name and presses the fingers inside you even more insistently “ahhn! Don’t stop, don’t stop, gonna-”
You suck in a greedy breath and it’s trapped in your lungs as your body starts to seize up. The hit of pleasure has you curling as close as you can into Ace, needing to clutch him when the first wave crests heavily. His fingers follow you when you land fully on top of him, soothing you through the ride with gentle pumps into your twitching walls. You breathe again after a moment, letting out a flurry of praise into Ace’s shoulder. The little shakes of your hips make you rub against his trapped cock and his eyes roll back against his wish to keep watching you. 
The way your pussy clamps down on his fingers is absolute torture. Pressed so close with his eyes shut, he can almost imagine the rhythmic waves of your spasming cunt milk him while he fucks you full of cum. It has him panting along beside you like he was the one who just came.
~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~
Hope you enjoyed the preview 🤍
Masterlist
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taintandviolent · 2 months ago
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Bliss ; Oz Cobb x Reader
summary: After trying a new drug at a nightclub, you lose your friend and run into someone else.
word count & w a r n i n g s: 4.5K | female reader, canon divergence (this kind of warps the events of episode 3 a teensy bit and uhhhh sorry about that, it's all in the name of spice), drug mention (fictional Bliss), technically mild dub con cos reader is hiiiiiiigh as shit but she's very into Oz, grinding, hook-ups, mentions of arousal (both parties), semi-public oral sex, blowjobs.
a/n: thank you for all the love on my last oz fic!! wahooo!!!! here's another, because i'm still obsessed with him! not beta-read or anything... just had to get this out. banner by @/strangergraphics!
↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!
“Open your mouth, honey…” 
You extend your tongue, obediently. The nameless (but very pretty) woman puts a triangle of translucent red candy on the meat of your tongue, and you draw it back in, sucking on it. It’s slightly sweet and melts straight away, leaving a slimy, almost syrupy finish on your tongue. You swallow it down, and look over at your friend, who had taken the Bliss before you had. 
It only takes a few minutes for it to hit and when it does, your entire body feels like it’s floating, your nervous system is buzzing happily while your friend’s eyes are glazed over, a delighted smile on her face. Everything seems to sparkle like the glitter that you’d dusted your eyelids in. “Holy shit…” 
“Yeah,” you echo, equally as shocked as she is. The feeling is indescribable, and you immediately understand why it’s called Bliss. You can’t recall the last time you’d felt this… elated. You’d smoked, you’d done ecstasy, but this… this was something else entirely. 
The two of you collide, crushing your bodies against each other as the music throbs in your ears, thumping in your bones. Your hands explore each other’s exposed skin, tasting it with your fingertips. You’re dancing with her, your ass in the crook of her hips… and then you aren’t. The presence is suddenly gone from behind you. You spin around, searching for her face in the crowd. You spot it as she turns to wave at you.
“I’ll be back!” She shouts, nodding excitedly as she disappears into the sea of people. “I’m going upstairs!” 
Even though you’re still riding the high, you don’t particularly like the concept of being alone. You try to chase after her, turning left and right to avoid the shoulders of other patrons. As you pass them, you see other people indulging in the same drug that is coursing through your system. It’s a collective high, you think to yourself, smiling. How cute. 
Finally, after meandering through the crowds for a few minutes, you spot a small staircase and make a beeline towards it. Your limbs feel jello-y, and you nearly stumble as you take the stairs one at a time. Just as your foot hits the last step, you hear a stern voice calling out to you. 
“Hey-hey, sweetheart.” A man gets to his feet, limping slightly as he takes a step towards you. His voice was heavy, commanding. Even in your intoxicated state, you could tell you were interrupting something. Fuck. Your head sweeps from side to side as you search for your friend. 
Oz takes another step towards you, watching you closely. You were a cute little thing, all dolled up and pretty, just how he liked ‘em… but you didn’t belong here. 
“This ain't an open invitation. You lost?” He nods his head, his scarred lips turning into a frown. 
“I…” You slurred, blinking slowly, a dreamy smile on your face. “I lost my friend… she said she was going upstairs… is this not… is this not upstairs?” 
He heaves a sigh, and seems to mutter an expletive under his breath. “Nah, doll, this ain’t upstairs.” 
You blinked again, pressing the back of your palm against your lips. You pause to shift your small purse back up onto your shoulder. “Shit…” 
Your eyes unfocus and focus again. The man in front of you is big in every way describable. Broad, tall, and his aura… it swallows you whole. He looks rich, dressed well. Dark hair peeks out from over his slightly unbuttoned shirt. You hum. You’d like to blame it on the drugs but you’ve always had a penchant for older men. Especially ones that looked dangerous… and he looked dangerous. 
“I’m… I’m so sorry…” A girlish giggle tumbled out of your throat. “I’m… oh god, I feel so good, I’m sssso sorry to interrupt your…” 
“You take somethin’?” He narrowed his eyes and nodded once. 
“Yeah,” you breathe, looking into his dark eyes. “That red candy… you got any more of that?” You perk up at the idea of prolonging this feeling.  Oz smiled at that, his gold teeth glinting in the light. An example had fallen right into their fuckin’ laps, and Zhao could see it firsthand. Your tongue jutted out at the corner of your mouth, and swept along your top lip, euphorically. He couldn’t help but stare, feeling the heat of arousal grip his loins.
“Gentlemen,” he said, diverting his attention before he stared too fuckin’ hard at you, his accent heavy. “As I was sayin’, Bliss is the new craze. The second it hits the streets, they’ll be bustin’ down the doors for it.” 
He steps out from behind the table and ambles his way over to you. Standing next to you, he’s even taller. You tilt your head back slightly to look – no, to gaze up at him. His face is aged, and deeply scarred – the biggest one disfiguring his top lip – but it’s hot. This guy’s been in a few, and you’re sure he’s got some stories. 
You giggle again, an absolutely delirious sound, and press your hand on the breast of his suit jacket, tracing tiny little circles on the fabric. “Hi…” 
He smirks, feelin’ like that cat that got the canary. A pretty little thing, whacked out on Bliss, fawning over him in front of Zhao and his gang? Priceless. Oz turns his head, nodding to one of the guys sitting at the table. 
“You think on our deal, and I’m gonna’ take care uh’ this one, huh?” 
You visibly preen at the fact that he’s leaving his meeting to ‘take care’ of you… whatever that entails. He could’ve just told you to fuck off, but instead he takes you by the shoulders, steering you back towards the stairs from whence you came in true gentlemanly fashion. As he guides you down the steps carefully, you look behind you at the booth to see the men, all solemn, watching you as you go. Just as they disappear over the wall, you see one of them lean over to discuss something with the others. 
God, his hands are fucking big on your shoulders.   
“Sweetheart – where’s your friend at? You can’t be wanderin’ ‘round this club like this. It ain’t–” 
“I’m safe now…” You lazily murmur, pressing your body against him. He’s wide and warm and you want to press yourself into him until you disappear. “What’s your name, big guy?” 
He swallows a lump in his throat. Your tinier body pressed against his has him feelin’ things he shouldn’t be feelin’, especially seein’ as he’s in the middle of one of the most important deals of his career. The crowd is undulating around the two of you, dozens of hands outstretched towards the ceiling as though it were heaven, sweaty bodies smearing against other bodies, washed in a bright red light. The song swells in your ears, its heavy beat forcing your hips to grind against the man in front of you. 
“We should dance. C’moooon. What’s your name?”
“Oz,” he says plainly, steering you around a corner, through the throngs of people. He’s in the middle of a deal, he has to keep reminding himself of that. This ain’t the time to pick up a new dame.
You repeat his name, drawing it out like a moan, hoping it sounds as good as it feels on your tongue. Another giggle, and you reach up to stroke the side of his face. “C’mon…. Dance….. With me.”
He doesn’t say anything, but you feel him pitch back slightly, stiffening against you. You reach up and wrap your arms around his broad neck, pressing your breasts flush against him. The warmth of his body immediately penetrates the thin fabric of your satin dress, seeping into your clammy, sweat-streaked body. It doesn’t occur to you that he’s not much of a dancer. 
“Sweetheart, c’mon.” He looks over your shoulder, prayin’ that your friend will show up. You’re making it harder and harder to focus. “Where’s your friend at? Huh? ” He’s persistent. You try to frown, but your smile is too strong. 
“I don’t know, silly… I said I lost her. That’s how I found you…” Your hands are still wrapped around his neck, tugging as you let some of your body weight fall, sliding against the front of him. He has no choice but to put his hands on your hips, to hold you up slightly. The touch has you reeling. “What’s she look like?” 
You ignore his question. Besides it’s not like describing her in a sea of people who match the description will help him locate her. 
“Don’t you wanna’ touch me, Oz…?” 
That hits him and he looks down at you with a glimmer in his eye that wasn’t there before. Fuck. Guy like him? Doesn’t get this kind of attention all too often. So yeah, of course he fuckin’ does. And he is touchin’ you, with his large hands still planted on your soft, satin-clad hips, but that’s not in the way he wants. He licks his lips. It probably ain’t you talkin’, it’s the Bliss.
The music swells again, and you spin around in his grasp, pressing your back against the curve of his stomach. He makes a fist in front of your dress, gathering up the fabric just enough so that his fingers can graze the smooth skin of your thigh. It’s so soft… feels so fuckin’ good underneath his hand. Immediately, like a child that was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he lets go, and shifts himself against your body again. God damn. 
You whine at the sensation, open-mouthed and dizzy. Every ounce of Bliss that was coursing through your system had you feeling better than you’ve ever remembered… and you were grinding on some hot older guy? Win-win. 
Your hips continue to sweep back and forth across his body, dipping your hips back to grind against his groin. You feel movement against your ass, and he eases himself into your soft, plush cheeks, forcing more friction. 
“You ain’t thinkin’ straight, doll.” He says into your ear and his hand moves back to your hips, adjusting you. He thinks about movin’ his hand between your legs, fingers teasing at the mound of flesh there. Your soft panties are hardly there to begin with, so the contact would have you both reeling. He knows could feel the outline of her, and you could feel the warmth of his fingers. 
But he doesn’t, it ain’t right and for all he knows, you could sober up and be horrified by your choice. It wouldn’t surprise him any. 
The warmth of his body is enough to arouse you, and you draw the side of your lip into your mouth and bite down, feeling a blush start down your neck. People are grinding on each other all around you, measly amounts of fabric impeding any actual fucking – what’s another pair?
“What? About you?” you say, looking out into the crowd, watching as others are doing the same. You lean back, pressing the side of your head against his chest, and close your eyes, letting the music take you wherever it needed to.
He mutters a yeah; you feel it vibrate in his throat. 
You spin back around and the action puts Oz’s hands on the meat of your ass cheeks. He doesn’t move them, despite his previous thoughts. You snort, dismissing his insecurity. He says nothing, only looks at you, studying the features of your face. 
“Ohhh, I get it.” You nod slowly, closing your eyes slightly. Your finger taps his chest a few times, punctuating your disapproving revelation. “I get it, you think I’m too fucked up to know what I’m doing, is that it?” 
One of Oz’s hands leaves your body to come up and grip your chin, his thumb pressing into your bottom lip just enough to expose your teeth. You lean into his grasp, reveling in the feeling of his hand on your face.  He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip. It’s plush and waxy underneath the pad of his thumb, which leaves a glittering streak of lip gloss on your cheek.
“Nnooo…. It’s cute that you care… but no, the red candy –”
“Bliss,” he interjects, making sure you remember it. The more people that know it by name, the better. 
“ – Bliss, okay, yeah. I’d hit on you without it.”
Oz considers that, his tongue darting out to lick his lips again. He squints at you, assessing your sincerity with a hint of intrigue. 
That second of consideration is all you need apparently. You’re craning your neck towards him, your heavy-lidded gaze dropping to his scarred lips. You bite your own, and inch closer – close enough that you can smell the scotch on his breath. You tilt your head to wordlessly indicate to him where you’re headed, and he looks at your ever-approaching mouth with a restrained sort of longing. His hands are still on your waist, which you take note of. 
“Hey! There you are!”
Hearing your friend’s voice, you immediately pull away from him, though he’s a little slower to let go of you. He seems less concerned with being caught; probably a by-product of his lifestyle. You turn to your friend, smiling sheepishly. She eyes the man behind you, quirking a single, defined brow. The apprehension is visible on her face. 
“Heeey. One sec,” you say, before spinning back to Oz. “Give me your phone.” 
You expectantly hold your hand out in front of him, opening and closing your palm a few times. 
“Oh, c’mon, I know you’ve got a phone. You’re not that old.” 
With a slightly perturbed sigh, he leans to the side, his hand slipping into his pocket. He retrieves the phone and holds it out to you, almost guiltily. 
Hastily, you create a new contact before returning the phone to him. 
“Text me if you don’t believe me. Or text me if you do believe me and are curious.” You lean up onto the toes of your heels, and whisper in his ear. “Just text me.” 
With that, you reach behind you, grabbing at the air until your friend’s fingers intertwine with yours. She grips your hand tight and yanks you away from Oz, pulling you into the undulating crowd until you can’t see him anymore. She wastes no time, and immediately drags you back to the dance floor, finding the same woman who gave you Bliss the last time. You both dish out more cash and suck down the crimson shard before both of you are consumed by the drug and the need to dance. 
You run your fingers through your hair, lifting it off your shoulders. “Fuck, I feel amazing….” 
Only an hour passes before your phone vibrates in your bag. Licking your lips, you pull it out. It’s from an unknown number… Gotham City area code… but you know exactly who it is. A pleased smirk curves its way around your glossy lips. 
It reads: You still here?
Yea lol. Are you? Your hips continue swaying back and forth to the beat. 
Yes
You suck on your bottom lip for a moment, mulling over what you want to do. You’re apparently taking too long, because the typing bubble pops up again. You smirk to yourself and run your free hand through your hair, touseling it. You quickly thumb out a string of messages; you’re much faster than him.
Meet me at the bathrooms in 10 
Mens
There always too many girls in ours 
Oz doesn’t reply. 
“Girl, I’ll be back!” You shout over the music. Your friend’s attention snaps to you, looking perplexed.
“Where are you going!?” 
“I just gotta’ meet up with someone!” 
The realization dawns on her and her eyes widen. “Shut up…! Is it that guy from earlier?!” 
You nod. 
“Are you serious?!”
You nod, looking proud. Your friend screws up her face, not withholding how she felt about him. 
Sandwiching her face between your hands, you pull her head down for a loving forehead kiss. “You need to broaden your horizons, baby doll!”  
And with that, you plunge yourself into the crowd, gripping your phone in your hand. A neon sign in an archway guides you to your destination. By the time you get to a vantage point where you can see the bathrooms, you spot Oz; already there, his scarred face illuminated by the glow of his phone. He looks worried, like you aren’t going to show up. After slipping your phone into your purse, you close in the distance. With a smirk, you move your hand towards him, reaching out to touch his forearm. 
“You missed me, huh? Tell me you missed me…” 
“What is this, a fuckin’ – “ 
“It took you a fucking hour to text me, baby. You were thinkin’ about me, weren’t you?” 
“Maybe I was.” 
Oz flattens his palm against the door, giving it a hard push until it opens. You duck underneath his arm and after casually checking your makeup in the line of mirrors to your left, fling yourself into the first open stall. Oz follows, lumbering in after you. It’s a tight fit, but you’re about to give him some breathing room. 
You drop your purse to the ground, and promptly get to your knees, the cold tile floor chilling them as you do. Oz stands tall in front of you, his chest heaving with each breath. His head drops to his chest, leaning forward slightly to look at you over his stomach and he chuckles breathily, looking almost embarrassed.
“Hoh shit… you ain’t fuckin’ around, are ya?” 
You shake your head as your fingers crawl up his thighs, step by step, until you get to his waist band. You unlatch the closure and reach inside the folds of fabric, finding the small zipper with your fingers. A slow, teasing tug pulls it down and you look up at him, a wanton grin on your lips. There’s a sheen of sweat on his forehead and his bottom jaw hangs slack, his brown eyes watching you with an intensity that reveals something deeper. 
“You don’t do this very often, huh?” 
He doesn’t answer, but his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “Shit, sweetheart… you do though, dontcha’?”  “Enough to know what I’m doing.” Your reply is sharp, and you punctuate it with a curt nod, swiping the pads of your fingers across his underwear to tease his quickly hardening dick. You palm the outline, rubbing it softly. Your thumb finds the tip, teasing it through the layer of fabric. Above you, Oz is still watching you intently, committing all of this to memory. You chuckle through your nose, and lean forward, nuzzling your nose against the hardness. 
“Lemme’ see what I’m working with…” you murmur, before reaching up to the elastic of his underwear, pulling it down harshly underneath his balls and freeing his cock. Framed by a thatch of black hair, it bobs heavily in front of your face, clear beads of pre-cum already leaking from the slit. You breathe hotly, causing it to twitch slightly. He pitches forward, bumping the tip into your lips and leaving a string of pre-cum stretching from your bottom lip to his dick. You lean back, just out of reach and laugh, watching as his expression contorts. You beam, pleased. The smile is mischievous; you love giving head because of the power it gives you, quite literally holding it in your hand. 
You bring your hand up to his dick, wrapping your fingers just underneath the tip. The girth is impressive, even here. With a smirk, you tighten your grip and drag your thumb over the head, bringing some of that luscious pre-cum down onto his shaft. You drag your fist away from your face, watching as the skin slickens underneath your fingers. With a clang of metal against metal, Oz grips the side of the stall tight to steady himself. You haven’t even put your mouth on his dick yet, and he’s already acting like he’s going to topple over. 
“Easy, Oz…” 
Your tongue stretches out past your teeth, flattening over your bottom lip. Taking hold of his cock hastily like a toy, you slap it wetly against your tongue a few times to rile him up. It works; his breath hitches in his throat and he drops his head back against his broad shoulders. His body temperature is rising, even you can feel it rolling off of him. It’s a nice contrast to the chill of the bathroom. 
You swallow once, relaxing your throat before leaning forward to wrap your lips around the cockhead. Your tongue, still flat, massages the underside of his cock as you push your head down onto him, not stopping until your nose reaches his pubic hair. Oz can’t help the sounds that tumble from his mouth; low, tight groans and a string of expletives as you deep throat his cock. His free hand comes down to the back of your head, caressing your tresses and he lets out a deep sigh, adjusting to the warmth of your mouth. You feel the tension in his grip and know that he’s fighting the urge to grip your hair, controlling the speed at which your mouth pleasures him. Your blood is buzzing in your ears, hazy with arousal. 
You pull back and he inhales sharply as you open your mouth wider before diving back down, letting the tip hit the back of your throat. You gag and your eyes snap shut, tears welling at the corners. 
“That feels so fuckin’ good. Shit, sweetheart.” 
Your cheeks cave as you suck him off, bobbing your head back and forth. 
“God damn, that mouth uh’ yours…”
You pull off his cock with a wet slurp and look up at him, dizzy with lust, before reaching up behind your head. Your smaller hand closes around his large hand, forcing him to make a fist in the soft strands before trailing over his wrist, fingers catching on the metal of his gold bracelet. “It’s okay, Oz. You can pull my hair.”  Your tongue darts over your swollen bottom lip, lapping up the taste of him. “Pull it, baby. You’re doing so good…” 
The comment is both a reprieve from his fat cock bullying your throat and a genuine statement. You see those dark brown eyes of his disappear under his lids as they roll back in his head, incapacitated by lust. He growls deep in his throat. Having been given direction and permission, he meticulously begins gathering it up into a ponytail, scooping all the tresses into the curve of his palm. While he does, you lazily lick at the sensitive, reddened head, teasing him further. The action practically makes his hands shake, but Oz manages to grip your hair tight and takes it upon himself to jerk his hips back against your face, sliding himself back into the warm, suctioned confines of your mouth. You nod against his cock, your nose brushing against the hair that greets you. 
You want to tell him that he can fuck your face, but he’s already found a rhythm of bucking his hips into your mouth, so instead of words, the bathroom is filled with the muffled music from outside and the sloppy, wet sounds currently coming from your throat. You walk your knees out a little farther, giving yourself room to slip your hand between your thighs, and into the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties. 
You feel every part of his body tense. He’s close. You know it, he knows it. You push yourself further onto his cock, until your gag reflex activates again, and Oz immediately pulls you off, backing his hips away from your mouth. Your eyes fall to his cock; the tip is glossy and reddened, almost purple, and is leaking profusely. It twitches once and you reach forward to stroke the length of it with your middle finger. 
“You gonna’ swallow that load, sweetheart?” 
With your throat sticky with his arousal, you swallow before speaking. “You wouldn’t ruin my makeup, would you?” 
He grins and chuckles, shaking his head softly. “Nah, doll. I wouldn’t fuckin’ dream of it. Open up.” 
You do. You open your mouth wide, and let him ease his cock back inside until it hits the back of your throat again, relaxing the muscles as best you can. Your finger moves from circling your own sensitive, swollen clit to delve into your wet cunt. You let out a little moan around his cock.  Closing  your lips around the shaft, you begin bobbing your head again, waiting for him to take control. 
To your surprise, he doesn’t. He doesn’t, and the hand that’s tangled in your hair goes slack, letting the strands fall back against your neck. This close to an orgasm and he doesn’t absolutely wreck your mouth? He’s got a whole suitcase full of kinks you’d like to unpack, but now’s not the time. With a crooked smile, you bring your free hand up to the base of his dick, stroking into your mouth while your tongue lets the tip grind against it. As he groans and grunts above you, you continue fucking yourself on your own fingers, pumping them in and out of your slick, dripping cunt. It doesn’t take you long to feel that first warning clench.
“That’s it, don’t fuckin’ stop, don’t fuckin’ stop–”
One of his hands comes to rest on your shoulder, gripping it tight. His thick cock twitches in your hands and you brace for the oncoming orgasm. A few more languid pumps, and he groans loud enough for it to echo against the tile walls. His grip tightens on your shoulder as spurts of hot, white cum decorate your tongue and the back of your throat. As promised, you swallow. And swallow again, and again. The heady taste of his cum brings you to the edge, and the heat reaches its peak between your legs, which snap shut at the sensation. Your cunt flutters around your fingers, arousal leaking out onto them. 
You pull off his cock, swallow again and collapse slightly against his groin. His hand finds your head again, petting your hair tenderly. As you both come down off the high, there’s nothing but the distant sound of music and your ragged breaths.
Finally, you slip your arm into the handle of your purse, and albeit somewhat awkwardly, you pull one foot underneath you and push up, getting to your feet. Once Oz sees this, he helps you, lifting you carefully. Once you’re standing in front of him, you reach between your legs again, and gather your finishing with two fingers.  
“Open up.” You repeat, in an almost mocking tone. Though his expression paints a story of confusion, he parts his lips slightly, just enough for you to slide two of your fingers inside. You swipe the slickened fingers over his tongue, back and forth until the slick has coated the muscle. Finally, you withdraw your fingers, watching wordlessly as Oz sucks the intoxicating taste of your orgasm down his throat.
“Thanks for that, Oz.”
“Feelin’s mutual, doll. Feelin’ is fuckin’ mutual.” 
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strangerstilinski · 10 months ago
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𝙞𝙩 𝙟𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙩𝙖𝙠𝙚𝙨 𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨
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𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
word count: 2.5k warnings: none really, fluffy ending, steve is kind of a dick, mention of alcohol, gender neutral reader (pls let me know if i missed anything) based on that scene in tasm where peter spins gwen around to kiss her — with just a dash of enemies to lovers
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It should go without saying that Steve Harrington is the bane of your goddamned existence. If the two of you aren't at each other's throats, it typically just means that you're both doing your best to pretend the other doesn't even exist.
And, sure, maybe it drives you a little bit insane that he seems to get along just fine with every person in your friend group except for you. It was like you pushed buttons that Steve wasn't even aware he had.
Nancy finds the whole thing amusing, says that Steve's clearly so in love with you that he doesn't know how to handle it. Eddie swears that Steve looks at you with hearts in his eyes, though any time you've caught his stare those ‘hearts’ tended to look a whole lot more like daggers. Argyle and Robin both insist that love and hate tread a very thin line, and eventually, a little push will have the two of you stumbling head over heels into each other's waiting arms. Johnathan tends to stay out of it, but then, he doesn't really need to say anything, because you've seen that look he gives you when he catches you looking a little too long at the moles dotted along the length of Steve's throat, or that stubborn lock of hair that tumbles over his brow bone, or the way his tongue pokes out and his eyes narrow cutely when he's concentrating-
You hate it. You hate Steve. Even now, you swear you hate him, regardless of the way you shamelessly ogle the curve of his bicep when he reaches across the back of the sofa to drape his arm loosely behind Robin's shoulders. You've accepted it. At this point, allowing yourself to admire his stupidly handsome physique was merely reparations for being forced to put up with him on a near-daily basis. Compensation for the never-ending bad attitude that he seemed to direct solely at you.
“Does anyone hear that?” Steve's voice speaks louder than your own suddenly, effectively cutting you off even though you'd been in the middle of a sentence. His eyes meet yours for just a brief second before his gaze is moving elsewhere, “It's like, this annoying buzzing sound?” He's sitting up a little straighter following his interruption, brows drawing together like he's listening intently for something.
His sudden line of questioning has thoroughly derailed your train of thought. The longwinded story you'd been regaling to the group about a customer at work is cut short, the words dissolving on your tongue as your try to work out what on earth Steve is referring to. Until his interruption, you hadn't heard anything.
“What are you even talking abou-”
“There!” He cuts you off once more, “There it is again! Did you hear that, Robs?” The fingers he nudges into his best friend's ribs makes her squirm away with a deep laugh.
You huff, “Are you seriously implying that I'm the-”
“God, you guys 're hearing that, right?” Steve interrupts with an irritatingly pleased grin on his face, “Like nails on a chalkboard-”
Though Robin's laughter isn't actually directed at you, your face burns hotly anyway. A pity-filled smile graces her lips when she meets your gaze after escaping the wrath of Steve's tickling, and his chuckles of amusement only serve to make you grind your teeth together in irritation.
“Real mature, dickhead.” You snap, snatching up the beer you'd set down on the coffee table when Eddie had actually asked you about your day a few minutes before. “I was in the middle of a story.”
“Yeah, no offense, honey, but I'm not sure any of us were that invested hearing you drone on about the ‘big tip’ some douchebag with a hand tattoo left you.” Steve grumbled with a roll of his eyes, “If your stories weren't so boring, maybe we wouldn't all be sitting here hoping for a hole in the earth to open up under us just so we don't have to keep listening to-”
“Steve. C'mon man-” Eddie tries, though his voice is drowned out by your own.
“Jesus, do you have to be such an asshole all the time?” You snap in Steve's direction.
“I'm just saying,” Steve shrugs, “Probably the only reason he left such a big tip was because pulled the wrong bill out of his wallet, alright? It sure as hell wasn't 'cause of your shining personality.”
“What, and just because you're a jackass, that means no man could ever possibly find me appealing?” You bite back.
“Yeah, well, your pretty face doesn't quite make up for your constant need for attention.”
“My need for attention?” You scoff incredilously, beer slamming back down onto the tabletop in front of you. The rest of your friends seem to fade even further into the background, the rest mist of your rage yet again blinding you to anything that isn't Steve fucking Harrington. “You're the one who can't stand when the focus is on me for ten fucking seconds.”
“So what, if I don't care that some prick hit on you at work-” Steve argues, “Sue me. If that makes me an asshole-”
“It does, as a matter of fact,” You interrupt easily, “Because I'm constantly listening to you whine about your conquest of the week, except I'm able to do so without acting like such a fucking-”
“Careful,” Steve hums, cocky little smirk reemerging on his lips, “You're sounding a little jealous, there, honey.”
“Oh, fuck off.”
“'S my house,” He returns just as quickly, “How 'bout you fuck off.”
The blood in your veins is full of fire. Your face is burning with rage and your eyes prickle traitorously with frustrated tears, because that customer from your story? He'd been the highlight of your god-awful day. The rest of it had been a fucking disaster.
You'd slipped on freshly mopped floors and dropped an entire table's drink orders. Subsequently, you'd been forced to finish your shift with sticky, soda pop-soaked socks that squelched wetly in your shoes with every step. Your boss had given you shit for the whole mess, even though it was one of your coworkers who had failed to put out the wet floor sign in the first place. You'd proceeded to burn yourself on a hotplate, twice. And then, after all that, you'd had little choice but to take an ice-cold shower before heading over to Steve's house, because the hot water heater in your decrepit apartment building was apparently broken. Again.
“Y'know what?” You grumble in defeat, “Fine.”
You're already rising to your feet, wiping the palms of your hands down your jeans to dry the lingering condensation from your half-finished beer. You blink furiously to push back the tears that had been pooling at your waterline, shaking your head at the ridiculousness of your own emotional state.
“Wha-” Steve is watching you with something like concern in his eyes now, “Wh-Where're you goin'?”
“I'm leaving,” You announce, gaze steadfastly avoiding where Steve has removed his arm from around Robin's shoulders so he can sit at the edge of the couch, as if he's planning to rise to his own feet at any moment. “I, um. I'll talk to you guys later.”
There are scattered protests from everyone, but you don't bear them any mind. You're already turning on your heel and moving toward the entryway with hurried steps. The front door slams shut behind you before you've even gotten your jacket all the way on. You've still got one arm struggling to find the hole of your sleeve when you hear the door swing back open behind you.
“Hey! Wait up.”
You're not sure why, but Steve's voice makes you slow where you've begun to move down the driveway, though you don't turn around to face him. He calls out to you again as he finally catches up with you. He all but throws himself into your path and at the risk of running straight into him, your steps finally come to a stop.
“C'mon, honey. Wait, wait, wait-”
You blow out a frustrated breath, your arms crossing over your chest like that might somehow put up a physical barrier between the two of you.
“I really don't want to do this with you, Harrington. Alright?” An air of defeat laces your words, one hand coming up to rub at the headache that's begun to pulse between your brows, “Just.. Not tonight.”
You move to step around him and the heel of your boots click against the pavement once, twice. But then something hooks into the belt loop on your jeans and you're tugged back. You nearly lose your footing at the unexpected shift in momentum, knees wobbling unsteadily for just a moment before you're twirled back around to face him and then your palms are meeting a firm chest.
The adrenaline has your brain whiting out for just a moment, any and all thoughts screeching to a halt. Warmth seeps into your palms from beneath the thin cotton of Steve's tshirt. The racing of your own heart in your ears drowns out the distant sound of laughter and the opening trailers of a movie rental coming from back inside the house. Your eyes are level with Steve's chin, your wide gaze locked on his lips as they quirk up at one corner with his gentle smirk. You're still standing pigeon-toed between his own larger feet, a little off balance but held firmly in place by the wide hand splayed across your waist.
“I'm sorry.” Steve says quietly — unexpectedly earnest.
It's only been a second or two since he dragged you back into his space, and to your surprise, his head dips, just a fraction. Steve brushes his nose against your own, a gentle stroke that sends butterflies in your stomach fluttering wildly. The cool mint clinging to his breath fans out over your face, smelling of the gum he's always chewing and smacking obnoxiously, but the scent this close is intoxicating. The hand he brings up to cradle your jaw is intoxicating. The loose flap of leather on his watch that tickles at the side of your throat. The way he's leaning in-
The passion he kisses you with, from the moment your lips touch, is intoxicating. It's all-encompassing. You can't think, and you're not entirely sure you're even breathing, but Steve's lips are moving in unhurried synchronization with your own. Your knees are weak. You're gripping the material of his shirt in your fists just for something to hold onto, but Steve' arm is curled tight around the curve in your spine now to hold you steady.
His tongue brushes warmly against your lips, licking softly at the seam of your mouth like he's asking for permission. The desperate sound that crawls up your throat at just that quick brush of his tongue nestles in the depths of Steve's brain where he files it away for later. He hitches his arm even tighter at your waist, pulling your stomachs flush until your chest heaves against his own.
Your head is a little fuzzy when you separate long enough for you to take a breath, and you're gasping almost comically in an effort to fill your lungs. Steve's quiet chuckle meets your ears, his hand sliding back from your jaw to cup the nape of your neck.
“You kissed me.”
The words fall from your lips in a whisper of disbelief. Your eyes are still closed, lashes fluttering against the tops of your cheeks. You’re terrified if you open them even a crack, the entire scene will suddenly fade away around you like some kind of dream. The airy cadence of your voice is partially due to your surprise, but also thanks to the far-too-easy grace with which you've been spun and manhandled and swept entirely off your feet.
“I did,” Steve agrees just as quietly, “I did do that.”
His forehead meets your own as your eyes flutter open and he simply holds you there for a moment, nose dragging across your cheek before he presses another quick kiss to your lips. His head tilts, thumb stroking soft over the side of your throat before his mouth finds yours again, and again. These kisses are different — Casual and tender, sweet and unhurried. Like he's kissing you just because he can.
“You-” Is all you manage to get out before your words are silenced by his lips slotting between your own, but you carry on with barely a pause as you click apart once again, “Y'r still doing it.”
“Mhm.” He hums easily, the sound rumbling beneath your hands on his chest.
“Why-”
Kiss.
“Are you-”
Kiss.
“Kissing me?”
Steve's breath mingles hotly with your own in the narrow breadth of space between your parted lips, “D'you want me to stop?”
“No, no, I- Hell no.”
And there's that perfect smile of his. Straight teeth make an appearance as his lips quirk up at the corner, a breathy spearmint scented laugh that sounds a little too relieved for the casual coolness that he's clearly trying to give off. His mouth opens like he's going to say something, but no words seem to come. Lips parted, throat bobbing as he swallows around the heavy silence weighing down his tongue.
He looks so pretty like this, you think. The streetlight light at the end of his driveway catches in his brown eyes, caramel sparking with flecks of gold and green that you've never noticed before, but you're sure you'll never be able to forget the sight of it now. You're still sharing breaths, faces so close that you can't avoid watching the way his full lashes blink at you dumbly. As if he isn't the one who spun you around and pulled you close and effortlessly gave you the best kiss of your entire life. As if, maybe, he didn't quite expect to make it this far, and now he's at a loss for how to proceed.
You release his shirt from your fist, the fabric crinkled and stretched with how tight you'd been gripping it, only to slide your hand up the back of his neck. The tip of his nose catches the bottom of your own, lips brushing faintly while your hand finds a new home in his hair. The soft strands tangle between your fingers when you give it a gentle tug and push up on your toes to draw yourself impossibly closer.
“If I'd known kissing you was all it took to get you to shut up, Harrington, I would've done it ages ago.” Your quip lacks its usual bite, but it breaks the silence between you, and it also seems to break Steve out of whatever spell he'd fallen under.
His tongue pokes out to wet his lips as he searches for an appropriate response, “Maybe we'll just have to keep kissing then.”
You find yourself swaying just a little on your feet at the way his eyes flick slow back and forth between your own, “Yeah.. Yeah, Maybe we will.”
When his lips descend on your own again, it's ages before he lets you back up for a decent breath of air, and even then he parts from you with obvious reluctance. You're both breathing heavy, lips a little swollen and shining wetly. Steve's expression has a warmth that you realize you've never actually seen directed at you before. Steve smiles at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and suddenly all you can think about is what Eddie has said a hundred times over.
It's like there are hearts in his eyes.
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wzrd-wheezes · 10 months ago
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sirius black has pretty hands, especially those long fingers he adorns with rings, one wonders how they would feel like stretching them out with them-
in which sirius catches reader zoning out while staring at his fingers then shows her what other type of magic they can do 🤭🤭
Pretty Hands - Sirius Black x Reader
AN - thank you so much for requesting. I'm SUCH a slut for a man with nice hands lmao.
764 words
warning: smut under the cut
Sirius’s bedroom was basked in a soft glow. He wasn’t one for having the overhead light on, much preferring the intimate warmth of a small lamp and a few candles dotted around. His guitar was cradled in his arms, his back hunched slightly as he leaned over it, fingers moving deftly across the strings. Every couple of minutes, he would glance up, blow his hair out of his eyes and scribble something in the notebook that lay open in front of him.  
Just opposite from where he was sat, Y/N was sprawled out on his bed. Though a book rested in her hands, she had long abandoned its pages, instead watching in awe as Sirius plucked at the strings of the guitar.  
His hands were slender yet strong, his fingers long and nimble, each movement deliberate and purposeful. The rings that adorned them caught the low light, casting delicate reflections that danced across the wood of the instrument. Y/N sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched. 
Sirius’s finger faltered momentarily on the strings as he felt her gaze on him. He glanced up, his eyes meeting hers with a knowing look.  
“Enjoying the show?” he quipped, smirk evident in his voice. 
“Something like that.”  
He set the guitar down on its stand and made his way over to the bed. His armed caged either side of her head as he climbed on top of her, propping himself up.  
“Can practically see all those thought whizzing around that pretty head of yours.” he murmured, kissing up her neck, “Care to share them with me?” 
“You have pretty hands.” she said softly, leaning upwards to catch his lips with hers. 
“Oh yeah?” he smiled cheekily, sitting up straighter, and dragging his fingers down her torso. 
“Yeah.” Y/N replied breathlessly, suddenly feeling flustered as Sirius kissed his way down her stomach and settled between her legs. With ease, he slipped her trousers down, dropping them in a pile at the bottom of the bed.  
He grabbed Y/N’s hands and put them above her head, removing the rings from his fingers and sliding them onto hers.   
“Look after these for me, will you?” 
Y/N didn’t get time to respond as Sirius was already buried between her legs, drawing a gasp from her as he slid his fingers inside of her. 
“This what you were thinking about, baby?” he asked, cocking his head as he pressed his fingers up inside of her. Y/N nodded frantically, her mouth falling open. 
“Hm?” he pressed, “Answer me properly.” 
“Y-yeah.” she let out a ragged breath, “Was thinking about having them inside of me.” 
Sirius smiled cockily, withdrawing his fingers momentarily causing the girl to whine and buck her hips up at him.  
“Needy girl.” he tutted, tapping his fingers against her clit, “Been waiting all night for this, haven’t you?” 
He slipped back inside and she groaned, grinding down onto his fingers. His thumb circled her clit as he slipped another in, stretching her open.  
“Take me so well, don’t you?” 
Sirius enjoyed teasing her, he loved making her breathless and needy and then asking her questions knowing full well that she couldn’t form the words to respond. He found joy in the way that she would stumble over her words as she would try to reply to him, her voice becoming whiny and frustrated as he would increase the pace of his fingers every time she spoke, her words being rendered useless every time. 
“Are you getting close, gorgeous?” he taunted, once again, removing his fingers. They were slick with her wetness and he slipped on into his mouth, “Why don’t you ask me nicely if you can come?” 
“Please, Sirius.” she whispered, “Please can I-” 
A moan fell from her lips as he thrust back inside of her, smiling at the way her face screwed up in pleasure. 
“Try again, you can do it.” 
“Please, Sirius, please let me-” 
Another firm press of his fingers had cut her off again as she threw her head back against the pillow, her eyes squeezed shut. 
“Aw, you were so close that time, baby.” his voice was laced with condescension, “C’mon, ask me again.” 
“Please can I come?” she panted. Her brows were furrowed, her lips red and bitten as she looked down at him with glassy eyes.  
Sirius nodded and she clenched around his fingers, finally coming undone. Her hips jutted upwards frantically, her mouth hanging open as she let out a shaky breath. 
“Atta girl.” he grinned, “Wasn’t so hard after all, was it?” 
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pannman · 4 months ago
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Something New
Alastor x GN!Reader
Kinktober 1: biting
Tw: Fluff, biting, Dom and sub dynamics, tentacles, dry humping, mentions of oral
Alastor had always been a perfect gentleman. Even though he was rarely horny himself he was happy to indulge you when he wasn't in the mood sometimes. His ruts could get extra rough and he tended to get really possessive and clingy around that time so he usually refused to even let you see him like that. You enjoyed how respectful he was. But sometimes you wished he'd be a little rougher
After all your initial crush on him started when he started out being mean to you. You at first were annoyed but something about it started to turn you on. Then over time you just developed an intense crush. And after his demeanor started to change you partly missed it. But you also enjoyed how much closer you were getting with him. He was being so much nicer than you were used to
Until one day he confessed his feelings and it caught you completely off guard. He asked to court you (which was really cute) and you said yes
You guys took things very slow and it took a while for you to even get physical. He apparently wasn't the most experienced when you started out
But now, he knew every spot that set you off. And he loved ravishing you. Kissing all the way up and down your body before reaching his destination and treating you like his favorite dessert. But you wondered if he was holding back. If there were things HE wanted that he never expressed. What about HIS pleasure. Even though he rarely was in the mood for sex himself, you couldn't help feel like there was more he enjoyed that he just was too afraid to bring up
Then one day you decided give him a little push. You were getting ready to have sex again. And you noticed his erection which meant he was aroused now as well. You saw it as the perfect time
"I was thinking..." You said playfully. "Whats going on in that beautiful head of yours?" He asked gazing into your eyes. You noticed a little hunger behind them which he usually hid well but being his partner for this long, you learned to recognize it. "Today we should try something new" you answered and you saw his eyes light up a little
"Ah, and what were you thinking we should try?" He asked eager for your response. You hesitated purposefully to build the tension. "I was thinking... YOU could decide" you smirked at him. He seemed taken back a bit by that. "What do you mean?"
"Alastor, today I want you to do WHATEVER YOU WANT to me. Even if it's something you're nervous about. I promise I will say so when something makes me uncomfortable" you assured him
"Are you sure this is what you want?" He carefully questioned. "Yes. I want you to indulge for once. Try something new. And maybe we will even learn something about each other" you explained
Alastor chuckled darkly "very well". A predatory look gleamed on his eyes. It made you weak I'm knees unlike you'd ever felt
"We can start now"
"Strip." Alastor commanded. You begin taking off your clothes, liking this already. "Slower" he said. So you did. He waited for you to be completely naked before he pounced on you trapping you on the bed pinned underneath him. Tentacles sprouted out holding your wrists and ankles. You gave a test tug and discovered they were tight but not painfully
He lowered himself down putting his weight on you before you felt his mouth on your skin. You thought he was going to kiss your neck until you felt intense sharp pain. He sank his teeth into your neck. He drew blood before he lapped it up. You cried out and he stopped and looked at you with concern. You gave him a small smile to show that it was ok and so continued and bit you again. He bit you the shoulder now. Then he moved down and bit your side underneath your arm. Then he bit your stomach in multiple spots. Each time drawing blood and each time licking off your skin.
You felt him getting harder against you through his pants. He started to grind and hump away at you while he sank his teeth into every inch of your body. His hips sped up. He went back up and sank his teeth into your shoulder one last time harder than any of his other bites and soiled his pants as you screamed in pain and little bit of pleasure
He sat back straddling your hips before he unbuckled taking out his cock which was harder than you'd seen it in a long time. Rock hard still even though he just came. Was this the kind of stuff that turned him on? He never told you. Why had he never told you?
He lowered himself before positioning his dick right between your legs. But he didn't go in right away. He hovered there for minute
You were so painfully aroused and even more so when you felt the tip of his cock teasing your hole. You whimpered and noticed his eyes filled with lust and sadistic glee. He was enjoying tormenting you and for some reason that reminded you of how everything started and it turned you on so bad
You felt him breach you entrance and go in slowly. But he looked at you like he was holding back. "Remember, you set the pace however you want" you panted out practically reading his mind and that's all the cue he needed to go barreling inside you back break speed and force
You cried out as your cry turned into a sensual moan. He kept up the pace. Brutal and enjoying every second of it. Since you had told him to indulge he chased his own release but that didn't stop you from cumming. He continued to drill into you through your orgasm and you were started to get overstimulated
He sped up faster and harder until finally he bit you again and came inside you violently
He waited until his cock stopped twitching to pull out and and fell to your side
Once you both caught your breaths, he got up to draw a bath for the two of you
"I don't think I can walk" you stated and he simply scooped you up and carried you over
As you bathed he examined your body and what he'd done to it. "I do apologize if this was too rough for you darling, I may have gotten carried away..." he said with tinge of guilt in his eyes
You couldn't imagine him never doing this again. You had to tell him. "Alastor... I loved it. Every second of it." You confessed. "Even the bites?" He asked. You nodded "even the bites"
Alastor smiled wickedly "well they do look quite lovely on you don't they... perhaps I'll have to replace them once in a while"
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Hii, hope u're doing ok in ur break. If the slot is till open, can i request Sir Pentious n Alastor with a dom male! reader who used to be a detective before he died?
I like the thought of Alastor being with someone who's supposed to arrest him (lol), and making him call the reader 'sir' a lot.
You Have The Right To Remain Silent... If You Can~
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Sir Pentious
You slammed the serpent onto the desk, bending him over as you slid a hand down his scaly form, gripping his surprisingly curvaceous hips.
Yanking his head back by his hood, you growled in his ear.
"Where are you hiding the weapons?"
The man gasped softly, back arching as he swallowed the lump in his throat, scaly rear almost presenting to you.
"I'll never tell!" He whined, trying to pull from your grasp, only to moan as you gripped his hood even tighter, pulling him close.
You yanked his arms back, snapped a pair of cuffs onto him.
They were cheap cuffs, stuff from a xheapo store, you sure if the man tried hard enough they'd break, yet you knew he wouldn't, the man whining softly as you leant over him.
With a sadistic smile, you gripped his face, pulling him in close.
"Tell me, and this can be easy. Ooor you could resist, and I could be very, very Hard on you~" you growled, practically grinding on him.
The man simply moaned, biting his lower lip.
"So, you think you can break me?! I'd love to see you try!" He cried triumphantly, as you leaned in, breathing heavy on his neck.
You smirked, yanking on his hood as you slammed his face into the desk.
"Oh don't worry. I'm not scared to throw the book at you." You growled, leaning in close, practically purring in his ear. "But with you, snake boy... you should be careful, cause if you keep resisting imma spank you with it."
You growled, slapping his scaly "ass", Pentious moaning lewdly as he practically pushed back in your hand.
The man all but whining as you manhandled him.
You had some back and forth, Pentious declaring he'd never reveal his secrets, you determined to 'drill' them out of him, using your 'experience' on Pentious. Putting that top notch detective experience to work.
Of course you weren't too rough. You were too experienced a detective to rough him up enough to leave marks, well, to leave bad marks, you left plenty of fun marks on the man, though even then he never minded a bit of rough play.
Having the man at your mercy was always a lovely thrill, Pentious a giddy idiot when intimate, but he was surprisingly capable at theatrics when in the mood, man a damsel at your mercy.
Well, not necessarily at your mercy, Pentious was totally in on it, the man all but eager to submit to 'your authority', putting up as much of a fight as he was expected too.
You didn't get too rough, well, not physically, as you didnt wanna leave marks, not that Pentious minded marks, he just didn't want the sort you couldn't explain off.
Pinning him to the desk, you'd hold him close, kissing and suckling his delicate neck flesh, drawing a string of moans and whines from the man, Pentious moaning loudly as you suddenly bit the snakes neck.
This was hardly the first time you'd played this role, Pentious particular to a bit of power play, especially when you so naturally knew your part.
And despite the man's craving for status and power, he relished the way you dominated him, a big goofy grin across his face as you used your once lawful abilities to hold power over others, the snake fascinated with almost supernatural power you held over him, almost as much as the hold you had on his body.
And while he'd never publicly admit it, the snake loved submitting every tume you took charge.
You treated him like any other perp, cuffing the man as you... had your fun~
Pentious loved every second of it, you always sure he enjoyed it, the snake loving it when you were in power.
This was a surprisingly big part of your relationship, the two of you having a deeply intimate connection.
Pentious relishing more then just the idea of you, but the sheer dominance you could exert, the man both loving and desperately wanting to emulate your dominant abilities.
And while the sexual aspect was always heavy, he really craved to know how to dominate, you trying to show the snake just how to be more dominant.
Yet despite your abilities and attempts, the man occasionally having bouts of success, you always held the cards in your relationship.
You'd of course teach the snake many of the skills you held.
You were a veteran detective before death, and as such you knew far more about the minds of others then many Sinners in Hell, a skill Pentious desperately wished to emulate.
Of course, when not engaging in Detective themed S&M, you had a deeply romantic relationship.
Pentious, despite himself, was desperate for intimacy. The man adoring the fact he had someone to care and attend to, and you damn well knew it.
The snake was always amazed at your deductive abilities, you able to trll much about him before he even spoke, you doing your best to teach him, too... mixed results.
But despite the regular 'Cops and Robbers' routine, you also had a deeply intimate relationship, you often spending great lengths of time with the man.
You, of course, let him keep something of an illusion of control, the man allowed to build his air fleet and egg-boi army, you keeping a watch of it all, but the man ultimately free to do as he pleased.
Of course, you barely had to assert yourself to dominate the man, Pentious immediately folding any time you so much as touched him, the Serpent relishing your touch in his life, craving your affection.
You had the snake wrapped around your fingers, Pentious loving it any time you flexed your power over him, The snake loving to puff up his ego, but the man quivering if you so much as purred in his ear.
You and your 'big bad snake' shared a deep, if lopsided, relationship, as while the man relished asserting his power and status, he adored when you asserted your power over him, two of you having a deeply adoring relationship.
Alastor
Your little back and forth with Alastor was long running, the man finding you exceptionally interesting.
You were in your 'office', the man sat in a chair as you stood over the man.
"My, Mr Detective, aren't you going to read me my rights?"
You simply smirked, yanking on his dishevelled neck tie, the man biting his lip as you stared down at the man, the Radio Demon's wrists bound behind his back.
The man who was so used to getting his way, that having the man at your whim, the man at your mercy, it was a refreshing change of pace for the man.
And if you happen to play into the roaring persona of an ABU agent eager to 'question' him with some... unorthadox interrogation tactics.
"Oh don't worry, I'll make sure you know every right and wrong you've got~"
Alastor knew this song and dance, having endured such treatment when alive, something he was sure to remind you of every time you had your little 'play sessions'.
You always eager to play into the role, playing up your persona, usually with a distinct shift, either rank or position, or his Crime.
Always making sure to play into it. Hard. Relishing your 'play time' with thr man, the dapper demon seemingly appreciating your theatrics as you pressed him into a wall. Or desk. Or the back of your car.
Or over your car.
Or on that ferris-wheel that one time.
Pressing your body to his, getting closer then any man ever had, binding his wrists with his own dress shirt as you slid your hands into his belt line.
"Looks like youll be going in for some Hard Time?"
You growling in his ear, working over his lithe form, drawing out a string of breathless moans from the man.
Alastor purred, a crackle of static as his back arched, you relishing this control, always managing to illicite a moan from the man.
The demon, despite his pride, was deeply susceptible to your detective persona, the man, in an oddly reminiscent episode enjoyed reliving his mortal years, the thrill of the back and forth. And of the Hunt~
The man was witty, and smug, as he was in life, always eager for your 'play time'. Which was iron8c since he wasnt all too partial to physical contact, yet with you he adored those 'rendezvous' always eager to elicit a rise out of you, man partial to some pain.
Though even as you slammed him against your desk, flesh pressed against flesh, the man always doing his best to keep up his smug persona, his way of encouraging you to 'put him in his place'.
You had an exceptionally smug back and forth every time, Alastor exceptionally snarky, well, until you smacked his ass, Alastor suppressing a whine as you leaning in close, biting his neck.
Now, Alastor would never admit as much, but he was very partial to a good bite on the neck, the man often whining like a doe when you sunk your teeth into the man's neck. A favour he would often return, you having more then a few bloody Tshirts due to the man.
The man would often end up as a whining, mewling mess, eyes crossing as you held the man down, turning Alastor into a moaning, whining mess, utterly submitting to you when in your office.
Of course the man would never admit as much publicly, keeping up his ever smug radio persona when in public.
But when in the privacy of your own home, he'd playfully submit, allowing you to 'take charge', you usually ending up inside of him.
One way or another.
The man, despite his pride, loved your little games of back and forths, able to experience real dominance, a breath of fresh air for such a powerful demon, the dapper demon so used to being the most powerful person in the room, he received an alien body of energy every time.
Of course, your past as a detective was always a point of teasing and prodding for the man, the man loving to work you up with idiotic questions until you'd end up snapping, said snapping usually ending with him bound to a chair, missing half his clothing, his neck utterly covered in big red bite marks.
A big dopey grin on his face with his hair all kinds'ah fucked up.
You were a constant source of entertainment, as whenever you werent 'investigating' something, i.e his body, you were usually enduring his teases and taunts, the man always happy to get a rise out of you, you quickly reminding him who was in charge.
Your favourite being to bind his wrists with his own bowtie, regularly blindfolding him before having your way with him, leaving a whole myriad of new marks and scars.
Alastor liked to pretend otherwise, but it was painfully obvious he was always eager for it, even as he moaned and squirmed, back arching as he practically begged, something he desperately tried not too do, but you always managed to squeeze it out of him, among with other things~
When not engaging in sexually deviance, the two of you had an exceptionally romantic relationship, as even as he was hesitant to show real intimacy, or well, public intimacy was mostly off the table.
Of course, you'd still manage to get something from the man, usually a simple kiss, or affectionate nuzzle, a monumental achievement for anybody. One you always celebrated in your own smug little way.
And yes, he'd never reveal the inner dynamics of your relationship, something you didn't blame him for, he was as vain as you were assertive. You still shared a loving, and disproportionately assertive, relationship, the two of you loving each other deeply, adoring each other. Usually with Alastor being bent over a desk being your favourite way to show it to each other~
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ilovenatasharomanoff2-0 · 1 year ago
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Hey, can I request an intersex Nat where she accidentally got R pregnant? And then she decided to hide the baby from Nat because she didn't want to burden Natasha or something (idk, you can change the reason), and then 5 years later, Nat was shocked to find R with a child. She did a computation and some research to know that it was her child too! Fluffy ending, please? Sorry for rambling, I just love single mother AUs rn and idk why?? Thank youuu!!
It's never over.
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Warnings: y/s/n (your son's name), unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, praise kink
Pairings: Intersex Natasha x fem reader
Word count: 2.5k
A/n: It has actually been a hot minute since I posted. I'm sorry, but I'm ready for this writing grind to return. This fic is my apology. I'm getting to it if I didn't get to your request. Trust me, I've seen it and probably already started writing it.
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"Fuck baby, I don't have a condom," Natasha tells you while hurriedly taking off her shirt.
You moaned quietly and muttered, "It's fine." Your hands go to Natasha's sweatpants to pull them down. "Just pull out, okay?"
Natasha lets out a low groan in reply to you, and her hands promptly find their way to your bra. In one swift mention, your bra was unclasped and thrown somewhere in the dimly lit bedroom.
Her hand soon came up to your face, tracing your face. Her eyes were glued on you, on how beautiful you were. Her face comes intact with your neck, kissing you slowly. Her lips dragged down and down. Soon, meeting your pelvis. Her head slowly moved back up to look at you. "So pretty baby, love you so much," she muttered. Her fingers traced down your body 'till they got to your clothed cunt. Her middle and index finger glided over your clit, and a soft whine erupted from your mouth.
"Please, Tasha, need you."
"Yeah, baby? I got you, okay?" She murmured out to you. A small kiss was left on your forehead. Natasha's two fingers pulled your panties to the side. Her attention was now on your pussy.
"So wet for me." Her lips curled upwards, forming a proud smirk. She didn't even do anything to you, and she had you dripping.
Her fingers dipped themselves in your hole, and a small gasp left your mouth. You threw your head against the pillow that lay beneath your head.
"Look at me, y/n, how good I'm making you feel." She mutters out to you, immediately drawing her fingers away from your cunt.
"Need your fingers, please." You moan out to her, your head shooting back up to see her in front of you, her two fingers up to her mouth to taste you.
"Taste so fucking good." she sighs out to you. "Need my fingers, baby? How bad do you need them?"
"Really bad, Natasha." Your hips start to buck forward, trying to relieve that ache you had in your core.
Natasha's hand comes to your hips, pushing them back down into the bed. You know you can't do anything about it. She's so much more potent than you. A force of one hand has your hips pinned down.
"Sorr-" Your plead is cut short when you feel her fingers entirely make their way into you. A languid yelp leaves your mouth. Your head shoots back once more.
"Feels good, huh? Bet my cock will feel better, though."
You can't respond back to her, too focused on her fingers that are curling in you. Her fingers pump faster, lewd sounds of your wetness caving the room, echoing every now and then.
Natahsa's free hand moves up to your clit, circling the bud just like she did before.
"So good, Nat, don't stop p-please."
"'M not gonna stop, baby."
As you lay, you feel the muscles in your legs tense up, and your feet shift slightly as your legs come together, creating a subtle but noticeable closure.
"You close y/n?" She whispers in your ear, her body leaning onto you ever so slightly, but enough to feel her hard-on press onto you.
Your voice quivers as you let out a mournful "Mhm." You reach out and grasp her shoulder, fingers digging into her skin. The pressure of your grip is tight, as if you're trying to hold on to something slipping away.
As you near your high, Natasha pulls her fingers out of you. A high-pitched sob leaves your mouth. "N-no, Natasha."
"Shh, it's okay, my love. I gonna make you feel so much better." She mumbles out to you. Her body moves off of you and onto her knees. The tent in her boxers is more noticeable than it was before. Your gaze is fixated on the intricate network of veins coursing down her pelvis, descending further and further out of sight.
She let out a low groan as she moved her boxers down, sliding them off and tossing them somewhere in the room. Her cock sprung out of the piece of clothing, precum leaked from her tip.
"So fucking hard for you, baby, I just want to feel your pussy so bad."
A shattered breath left your mouth as you heard Natahsa's explicit words. Her hand slowly moved up and down on her cock, lowering her head down to use her spit as lube.
She slowly inched her hips closer to you, grabbing ahold of her hard cock. Her tip rubbed in between your folds, teasing for a few more minutes.
"Already feel so good." She sputters, her tip finally coming down to your hole. She takes her time easing into you, her eyes looking at how your pussy takes in all of her cock.
Once Natasha had bottomed out in you, she stilled her hips, giving you time to adjust to her length. "Tell me when I can move, baby, okay?" She softly tells you.
After a few minutes of waiting, you finally adjusted to her.
"O-okay, I'm ready, Nat."
Natasha needs to hear no more, her hips thrusting rhythmically.
"Th-that feels good, Tasha." Your breathing is labored. You can feel the deliberate slowness and shallowness of Natasha's thrusts, as though she is deliberately holding back from unleashing her full power upon you. It's as though she is carefully testing your limits, teasing you with the promise of what could come if she let go.
"Can I do this?" She asks, her eyes filled with anticipation. Her back straightens, and her hands move ever so sneakily, reaching out to grab your thighs.
The silence in the room was palpable, broken only by the sound of a small head slowly nodding.
Her hands pushed your thighs back for a better angle. Her thrusting resumes and her cock hits new depths. Loud moans left your mouth as Natasha's hips grew in speed, her cock aimlessly hitting the spot that you love.
The way you clenched around her had her in a trance. The grip she had on your thighs tightened. A grunt came out of her mouth, and she snapped her hips faster into you. Your hands were trying to search for a place for stability.
"So fucking tight and warm, y/n. C-could be in you forever." She moans out to you.
"Fuck, I'm close, nat." a whine left your mouth as you closed your eyes and focused on all of the pleasure.
"Let me cum inside y/n, please."
You quickly nodded, trying to hide the knot that was forming in your stomach. The overwhelming feeling of unease made it hard to process anything else.
"Gonna cum!"
"Comon, do it, my love, cum for me." She reassures you. You can tell she's close to releasing by how her hips start to, for their own pace, a rhythm. With a few more strong thrusts from Natasha's hips, your orgasm came crashing down. Your back arched off of the bed as you felt Natasha shoot her load into you.
She lays down on top of you and catches her breath. She quickly rolls off of you and moves herself next to you on the suitable bed. Her side is slightly turned so she can look at your face.
"Did so good for me y/n." You feel her soft breath on your face as she leans in and gently presses her lips to your forehead, letting out a soft murmur.
You couldn't help but smile as you turned to face Natasha. She slowly lifted herself off you, her eyes fixed on yours as if trying to decipher your thoughts.
After standing up, she gracefully slips back into her boxers, her every move exuding confidence and poise. She walks into your bathroom with purpose, her eyes scanning the room until she spots a towel, which she swiftly grabs and wets under the tap. She returns to you, her gaze unwavering, and gently cleans you up with the damp towel, her soothing and reassuring touch.
As you lay on your bed, you hear a soft call of "Y/nnn." Turning your head, you see her standing there, a smile forming as she catches your gaze. Closing your eyes, you feel her hands gently cleaning you up, making you feel refreshed and cared for. Soon after, she hops onto the bed and wraps her arms around you from behind, holding you close in a warm embrace. It's a moment of comfort and intimacy that makes you feel safe and loved.
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As you were lost in thought, you were suddenly jolted back to reality by boisterous laughter. You quickly checked your phone to see a message, only to find your son standing before you with a half-eaten Rice Krispie treat in his hand.
"Hey, buddy!" You bellowed out to him. His face lit up as he heard you talking to him.
He looks up at you with a beaming smile and says, "Hi, mama!" His little hands reach up toward you despite your close proximity, signaling his desire to be held in your embrace.
You bend down slightly to pick him up, even more laughter erupting from his tiny body. You quickly pick up the phone you put on the counter to take a picture of y/s/n. Your eyes get lost in the notification on your screen. You quickly forget about it and take a picture of the both of you in your matching Patagonia jackets, hoping you could post it to your Instagram later.
As you set him down on the ground, you turn to him and ask, "Would you like to go get some ice cream?" With a quick nod, he excitedly runs towards the door, nearly stumbling over the scattered toys that litter the floor. You can't help but chuckle at the sight as you make your way over to the accent table where your car keys are displayed.
As you two drove, the car was filled with the loud beats of y/s/n's favorite YouTube music, his laughter growing increasingly raucous as he found something particularly amusing. After a few minutes, we arrived at the ice cream shop, but getting y/s/n out of his seatbelt proved difficult due to all the kicking and squirming.
As you both stepped out of the car, you noticed the small ice cream shop across the street. You helped him out of the car and walked towards the shop. As you entered the tiny shop, the aroma of freshly made waffle cones filled your nostrils. The colorful display of ice cream flavors made your little companion's eyes widen with excitement. He carefully picked out his favorite flavor and waited patiently for you to pay. As you handed over the money, his tiny head looked up at you with gratitude and back at his ice cream, watching it drip from the cone onto his hand. The sound of his happy slurping filled the air as you both savored the moment.
Walking around the ice cream, you turn to your son and say, "Come on, let's find a table." You take his hand and navigate the large crowd, scanning for an available booth. Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening catches your attention. You freeze when you see the girl who just walked in. She looks familiar, like someone you used to know. She stands tall with a confident posture and a mess of long red hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. A few strands fall across her face, framing her sharp features. Dressed in a sleek compression shirt and shorts, she just came from the gym.
As you both stand in the ice cream shop, your eyes meet with a woman scanning the room. Suddenly, her gaze locks onto yours, and you feel a jolt of electricity pass between you. Her eyes slowly drift down to the child standing next to you, and she can't help but notice the resemblance between them. You're unsure what to do, but you feel frozen in place as you stare at each other. When your child tugs at your pants, reminding you that his ice cream is melting, you snap out of your trance and slowly start to move away.
"Mommy, ice cream!" he says loud enough for the girl you know to hear you.
"O-okay, y/s/n, follow me." You quickly find a table. As soon as you sit down, your son is on his tablet, watching PBS Kids to entertain him. And that's when you finally remember it was Natasha. She has changed a lot since you saw her 4 years ago.
Before you can get together to talk to her, she's already at your table. Your son quickly looks up at her and looks back down; his attention is on the ice cream and TV show.
"Y/n?" She whispered out to you. Her voice sounded the same, just as you remembered.
"Hi Natasha, I know that thi-"
"You have a kid now?" Her voice is a little shaky now; if you have to be honest, you feel bad for her. And now that you're face to face with her you start to regret your actions.
You stayed silent for a minute trying to find the right response to tell Natasha.
"Why didn't you tell me y/n? I've waited so long for you."
"I...I don't know Natasha." Our hands touch your face, rubbing it harshly, trying to process what was happening.
"Is he mine, Y/n?" You could tell her nervousness, her breath quickening as she awaited your response. The only thing you could do was nod your head up and down.
"have a seat, Nat." She hesitates momentarily before slowly taking a seat, her mind racing with mixed emotions. The air around you is tense as you wait for her to speak.
"You know I wanted to tell you."
"Why didn't you then? I was never able to get over you, y/n."
"I guess I...I guess I was too scared, Natasha. I didn't want you to ghost me, and I felt like a burden like you wouldn't want to be with me anymore." You looked down at the table, trying to hide your watering eyes from Natasha.
You feel her body shifting gently as she moves closer to you. Her arm gracefully wraps itself around your back and pulls you in closer. You respond to her embrace, feeling your entire body pressing against hers with a sense of comfort and warmth.
"I don't think you are a burden. I would've been so happy if you told me we would have a kid together. You know that I will always love you."
You do a slow nod into her chest. Natasha's face turns every once in a while, looking at the toddler across from her.
"What's his name?"
"Y/s/n. It made me think of you when I first gave birth to him."
Natasha's delicate fingers gently touch your chin, lifting your face towards hers. As you meet her gaze, a radiant smile spreads across her lips, illuminating her face with a warm glow.
"Do you wanna come back home with me, Nat?" you whisper just loud enough for her to hear.
"Yeah, actually. I want to catch up with you and my son."
You find yourself unable to do anything but return the smile of the person in front of you. As you gaze into her eyes, a flood of memories from your past together comes rushing back. You feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the new chapter that is about to unfold in your life.
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luxtrys · 2 years ago
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uggghhhhhhh putting a face mask on ani fucking getss me.
he was sitting on your vanity chair, resting against your fluffy white blanket that was draped over the back of it. he insisted that if he was going to let you put a face mask on him that he needed to be as close to you as he could.
so, thats how you ended up with your face inches away from your boyfriend, your legs straddling his body as he looked up at you dazed.
"ani, stop moving. i'm gonna mess it up!" you voiced as he kept wriggling under you while you were painting the clay green tea mask over his forehead "yeah? can't help what you do to me baby, sitting on top of me like this" the smirk ever so present on his face. "you asked me to!" you unintentionally raised your hips as you whined, slamming back down on him unknowingly in frustration.
anakin let out a hearty groan, quickly grabbing your hips to halt your actions. "angel, if you really want to finish this mask thing, then you're gonna have to stop moving on me like that" you looked down at him, the contact with his only boxer clad crotch finally getting to you as you nodded. he watched intently at the way your eyes were now glazed over, how hard you were gripping the brush you used to apply the face mask with and how your hips were involuntary shifting above him.
he took this as his chance, slowly entering his ring and pointer finger in his mouth and getting them wet. you didn't notice this though, to busy with distracting your self with the mask application so you didn't accidentally grind on top of him more.
he slowly brought his hand to the top of your tiny sleeping shorts, little hearts decorating the fabric and a little pink bow resting in the middle of the cream coloured waistband. you were perfect, beautiful, amazing, soft and everything anakin could ever ask for, the mere thought of you could make him bust right there and then. he began to dip his hands into your shorts, inching them closer to your core.
your eyes immediately snapped down to your boyfriends veiny hand making its way to your centre, letting out a shaky breath. "ani, what are you doing?" your voice was nothing louder than a whisper, any louder and you would let a moan slip out of your mouth.
he looked up at you innocently, brushing his unoccupied gloved hand through your hair. "nothin' baby. just keep doin your thing, try not to get any in my eyes, yeah? wouldn't know what i'd do if i couldn't look at your pretty face everyday." you shakily nodded before ani's voice echoed in your head about 'using your words' so you followed in up with a quiet "yes, ani"
"atta' girl" he smirked, before looking down at your shorts again, his fingers now making contact with your heat. he began running his middle finger through your folds as his thumb made its way to your clit.
you gripped the makeup brush with your hand as your knuckles turned white, biting your lip so hard you were scared you were gonna draw blood. as you were running the green paste down his nose, you felt the first finger enter you.
he heard you gasp as he began pumping his finger in and out of your heat, starting slow before speeding up to a ruthless pace. you tried your best to focus on impressing ani with how perfect your mask applications skills were, but the second his second finger entered you, you were done for.
he groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him, struggling to fit both his fingers into you. "shit baby, you're so fucking tight, pussy gripping my fingers like a fuckin' vice."
you whimpered at his words, finally abandoning the brush as you dug your nails into his shirtless back. he grinned up at you as your head buried into his neck, proud he made you incapable of finishing the task he so did not want you to complete.
"a-ani, g-gonna cum" you moaned "cmon pretty girl, let it all go"
he heard you let out one last gasp before he felt you spasm around his fingers, breathing loudly into his neck. he slowly changed the pace of his fingers, working you through your orgasm before removing his fingers from inside of you.
he chuckled at how dazed you looked from him, rubbing your back with his hand softly.
he took the chance of your tired out state to take a glance at himself in the mirror. "hey! i look like master yoda!" he exclaimed, reaching his finger up to touch the wet light green paste on his face.
"do not talk about yoda after fingering me anakin skywalker."
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fuqnia · 8 days ago
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I Thought I Was Unique (2) ₊˚⊹♡
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♡ kyle broflovski x fem!reader insert | college au, smut
♡ A/N | this part is so fuckin weak, i'm sorry 💀 but it's funny i think! as usual this is long.
♡ C/W | nsfw (18+), all characters are aged up! fighting, inexperienced reader, p in v, oral sex (male receiving), bjs, reader is still stoopid (?), virginity loss
♡ Synopsis | kyle didn’t mean for it to go this far. he didn’t mean to fall for you, didn’t mean to let jealousy and frustration ruin everything. but now, after the party, after the fight, he can’t take it back—and neither can you.
event masterlist | part one
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The text from Stan had been simple: “Hey, the guys wanna hang out tonight. Just us, no drama. Kyle won’t be there, promise.” You’d stared at it for a while, guilt twisting in your stomach. You hadn’t just been avoiding Kyle—you’d been avoiding all of them, and they didn’t deserve that. So, against your better judgment, you’d agreed. When Stan pulled up outside your dorm, you grabbed your bag and headed downstairs, only to freeze in your tracks the second you saw Kyle sitting in the passenger seat. Without a word, you spun on your heel and started walking back to your building, your chest tight with anger and dread. But before you could get far, Kenny leaned out the open truck window, shouting, “Oh, come on, [Y/N]! Don’t be a buzzkill!” His tone was light, but you caught the edge of exasperation, and it was enough to stop you. With a resigned sigh and a stomach full of regret, you turned back and climbed into the truck, the tension hitting like a slap the moment the door closed behind you.
The cab of Stan’s ancient, beat-up truck reeks of stale coffee, gym socks, and the kind of regret that only college drama can create. The cramped backseat feels like a torture chamber—Cartman’s elbow digs into your side while Kenny sprawls out, taking up more room than a human being should.
Up front, Kyle is a silent storm in the passenger seat. His arms are crossed, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder if he’s grinding his teeth into dust. His curly hair catches the glow of the streetlights, but he refuses to turn around, refuses to look at you. Which is fine, because you refuse to look at him either.
Kenny broke the silence first, glancing sideways at you with a sly grin. “Sooo…” he started, drawing the word out. “You gonna tell us what happened at the party? Or are we just supposed to guess?”
Your stomach twisted, but you didn’t respond, your gaze fixed on the passing streetlights.
“Come on,” Kenny pressed, bumping your shoulder lightly. “I’m dying to know. You show up looking like a million bucks, and by the end of the night, your makeup’s running, and you’re crying like your dog just died. What gives?”
“Kenny, knock it off,” Stan snapped from the driver’s seat, shooting him a glare through the rearview mirror.
“I’m just saying,” Kenny said with a shrug, though his tone was too amused to be genuine. “It’s not like she’s been super talkative since she got in the truck. Figured someone should ask.”
Cartman grinned, leaning back and crossing his arms. “My money’s on Damien being an asshole. Or maybe it’s Kyle. Hell, maybe it’s both.” He glanced toward Kyle, who flinched but didn’t turn around. “Come on, Kahl, what’d you do this time?”
Kyle’s jaw tightened, his gaze locked out the window. “Leave it alone,” he muttered, his tone clipped.
Cartman’s grin widened. “Oh-ho! That’s a yes if I’ve ever heard one. What’d you say to her? Or better yet—what’d you do to her?”
“Cartman, shut the hell up,” Stan snapped, his fingers tightening on the wheel.
You sank deeper into your seat, the memories of the party flashing through your mind like jagged shards of glass. Kyle’s words upstairs—low and annoyed—echoed in your ears:
“Are we doing this, or not?”
You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, trying to block it out. The taste of rum still lingered faintly on your lips, mingling with the sting of tears. You could still feel the weight of his gaze on you, his pleading tone to talk it out as stumbled out of that room and down the stairs.
Stan’s voice pulled you back to the present. “Seriously, can we all just… not do this right now? It’s been a long week. Let’s just get to Cartman’s place and chill, okay?”
“Fat chance,” Cartman muttered, shooting you a sideways glance. “Not when you’ve got all this drama just sitting here, waiting to be unpacked. Like, seriously, [Y/N]. Are you even gonna say anything? Or are you planning to keep sulking all night?”
Your fingers dug into your arms as you fought the urge to snap back. But the words lodged in your throat, heavy and bitter.
When the silence stretched too long, Kenny leaned closer again, his grin teasing but not unkind. “For real, though. What happened? One minute you’re having a blast, and the next you looked like a goddamn emo album cover.”
Your hands clenched, your nails biting into your palms.
Kyle’s voice cut through the air, sharp and cold. “I said leave it alone.”
Kenny raised his eyebrows, leaning back slightly. “Touchy.”
Cartman snorted. “What are you, her simp now? Newsflash, dude: it’s not a good look. Makes you seem guilty as hell.”
Kyle’s head snapped around, his green eyes blazing as he glared at Cartman. “Say another word, and I swear to God—”
Stan groaned, slamming on the brakes and pulling over to the side of the road. The truck jolted to a stop, and the sudden silence was deafening.
“Out,” Stan barked, throwing the truck into park.
“What?!” Cartman squawked, his face twisting in outrage.
Stan twisted in his seat, his expression a mix of exhaustion and frustration. “Everybody out. Right now. I’m not driving another mile with this crap hanging in the air.”
Reluctantly, everyone climbed out, the cool night air biting against your skin. You shoved your hands into your jacket pockets, keeping your distance from Kyle, who stood stiffly on the other side of the truck.
Kenny leaned against the hood, grinning as if this was all some kind of game. “Alright,” he said, his tone light. “Who’s throwing the first punch?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you glanced down at your nails, picking at the edge of one like it was the most fascinating thing in the world. The chipped polish was starting to flake, and you focused on that, ignoring the weight of everyone’s stares.
Kyle broke the silence, his voice low but tense. “No one’s throwing punches, Kenny,” he said. “But maybe it’s time we talk about what really happened at the party.”
Your stomach twisted, and your head shot up. “Kyle, don’t.”
“Oh, I think we should,” Kyle said, his voice rising as he took a step closer. “Since everyone here seems so curious about why you came running downstairs crying your eyes out, let’s tell them. Should we?”
Cartman smirked, his gaze flicking between you and Kyle like he was front-row at the circus. “This oughta be good,” he said, folding his arms.
“Kyle,” Stan warned, his voice tight.
But Kyle wasn’t listening. He was locked on you, his green eyes filled with anger, betrayal, and something you didn’t want to name. “You begged me,” he said, his voice trembling. “You begged me to help you. To ‘show you,’ so you could be ready for Damien.”
“Kyle, stop!” you snapped, your heart pounding so hard it made your voice shake.
“You don’t get to stop me,” Kyle retorted, his voice cracking with emotion. “You dragged me upstairs. You said you trusted me. And like an idiot, I believed you.”
The knot in your chest tightened. “I didn’t mean—”
“Don’t,” he cut you off, his tone bitter. “Don’t tell me you didn’t mean it. You knew exactly what you were doing, [Y/N]. And then you ran off, crying, like I was the one who—” He broke off, running a hand through his curls, his frustration palpable.
“Jesus Christ,” Kenny muttered, wide-eyed. “What the hell happened up there?”
“That’s enough,” you said sharply, stepping forward, your hands shaking with a mix of anger and shame. “You don’t get to twist this around on me. You didn’t have to do it!”
Kyle let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re kidding, right? You asked me to kiss you! You begged me to—”
Before he could finish, you shoved him hard in the chest. He stumbled back, his mouth snapping shut as he glared at you, his face flushed with a mix of anger and disbelief.
“Go to hell!” you yelled, your voice cracking as your eyes burned with unshed tears. Without waiting for a response, you spun on your heel and stormed back to the truck, your hands trembling.
“Holy shit,” Cartman muttered, a slow grin spreading across his face. “That was… wow. Do it again!”
“Cartman, shut the hell up!” Stan snapped, shoving him hard in the shoulder.
Kenny let out a low whistle, shaking his head. “Well, that explains the whole ‘crying with messed-up makeup’ thing.”
Stan sighed, running a hand down his face. “This is why I didn’t want to do this tonight.”
Kyle stood frozen, his chest heaving as his gaze lingered on you. He looked like he wanted to say something—to shout, to argue—but instead, he turned away, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Dude,” Stan said softly, his tone hesitant. “Maybe you should—”
“I need some space,” Kyle muttered, cutting him off before walking off into the opposite direction of you, his shoulders stiff with barely restrained emotion.
Your chest heaved as you turned around and glared at his retreating figure, your vision blurring with unshed tears. The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them, raw and venomous.
“Good! Maybe some hobo will finally do the rest of us a favor and take you out, you selfish asshole!”
Kyle froze for a fraction of a second but didn’t turn around. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and kept walking, his silhouette disappearing under the glow of a distant streetlight.
You let out a shaky breath, the anger and humiliation coursing through you like wildfire. Without sparing a glance at the others, you yanked the door open and climbed in. The door slammed shut behind you with a loud bang that rattled the truck.
Your arms crossed tightly over your chest, and you slumped back against the seat, staring straight ahead. Your heart pounded in your ears, but the muffled voices outside were impossible to ignore.
“She didn’t mean that,” Stan said, his voice strained and uncertain. “Right? I mean, she couldn’t have.”
Cartman laughed, low and cruel. “Oh, she meant it. Did you see her face? She was ready to murder him.”
“Maybe she’s got a point,” Kenny muttered, his tone uncharacteristically serious. “Not about the hobo thing, but… damn, Kyle really didn’t hold back.”
“Neither did she,” Stan snapped, his frustration evident. “This is a mess. How the hell did it even get this bad?”
You clenched your jaw, trying to tune them out, but your thoughts refused to quiet. This is all my fault.
It was the truth. You’d dragged Kyle upstairs. You’d pushed him when he’d clearly been uncomfortable. And when things spiraled out of control—when he kissed you, when everything became too much—you’d fallen apart. You’d run away.
And now you were mad at him. For what? For telling the truth? For being hurt? For showing you a part of himself you weren’t ready to see?
Your throat tightened, and you hugged your arms closer to your body, as if that could keep the flood of emotions from spilling out.
Outside, the voices continued, but you couldn’t bring yourself to focus on the words. All you could think about was Kyle’s expression—the anger, the pain, the disappointment that had flickered across his face before he turned away.
He hates me now.
The thought hit like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, you felt like you couldn’t breathe. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back against the seat, and tried to steady your breathing.
I hate him too, you told yourself, though the words felt hollow.
The sound of muffled footsteps approached the truck, and you glanced out of the corner of your eye to see Kenny and Cartman making their way back. Cartman climbed in first, huffing as he shoved himself into the middle seat.
“Move over,” he grumbled, elbowing your side. “This isn’t the Cartman-crammed-in-the-corner show.”
You didn’t respond, shifting slightly to avoid his jabs but refusing to meet his gaze.
Kenny slid in next, shutting the door with a soft click. The truck dipped slightly under his weight as he sprawled back against the seat, sighing like he’d just run a marathon.
“Well,” Kenny said, breaking the silence, “that was awkward as hell. And by awkward, I mean absolutely insane.” He glanced at you, his blue eyes sharp despite the lazy smirk on his face. “You good, or should I call in a therapist?”
You stared straight ahead, your arms crossed so tightly it felt like you might snap in half. The last thing you wanted was to talk to Kenny, to Cartman, to anyone.
“Okay, cool,” Kenny said when you didn’t answer, leaning back like he wasn’t bothered. “Silent treatment it is.”
Cartman snorted, folding his arms. “What a shocker. She’s been pulling that act all night. Figures.”
You gritted your teeth but stayed quiet, focusing on the dashboard like it held the secrets to the universe.
“Hey, maybe she’s still thinking about that kiss,” Cartman said with a mocking grin, his voice dripping with fake sympathy. “What do you think, Kenny? Think Kyle’s a good kisser? Or was it all, like, sloppy and sad?”
Kenny laughed softly. “Cartman, you’re an asshole.”
“Yeah, well,” Cartman said, shrugging. “Somebody’s gotta keep things interesting. Not my fault she can’t handle a little constructive criticism.”
You clenched your fists, the urge to snap at him nearly overpowering, but you bit your tongue.
“Oh, she’s pissed,” Kenny said, leaning toward you slightly, his grin widening. “Look at her. Bet she’s dying to tell us off right now.”
“Yeah,” Cartman added, chuckling. “But she won’t. Wanna know why?” He paused dramatically, his grin growing smug. “’Cause she knows she screwed up. She just can’t admit it.”
“Cartman,” you finally said, your voice cold and sharp, “if you don’t shut up, I swear to God—”
“Oh, here it comes!” Cartman interrupted, throwing his hands up in mock excitement. “Go on, [Y/N]. Say it. Tell me how I’m wrong. Tell me Kyle’s the bad guy, or better yet—tell me Damien’s still your knight in shining armor.”
The mention of Damien sent a fresh wave of guilt and frustration crashing through you. Your nails dug into your palms as you forced yourself to look out the window, refusing to let him see the way his words stung.
The memory of that night surfaced, as vivid as if it had just happened. When you had stormed down the stairs, your face streaked with tears and makeup, the entire party had seemed to pause. Conversations faltered, and heads turned. You could feel their eyes burning into you—judging, whispering. Your boots clunked against the floor as you rushed toward the door, Kyle’s voice calling after you, but you didn’t stop.
Damien had been standing near the corner, leaning against the wall with his usual detached confidence. His eyes locked on you as you approached, confusion flickering in his expression. “Hey,” he had said, stepping closer. “What’s going on? You okay?”
“I just… I need to get out of here,” you had mumbled, barely meeting his gaze.
Without missing a beat, he had tossed his cigarette into a nearby cup and wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you out of the house. The air outside was cold, but it did little to cool the fire in your chest. You barely registered the sensation of Damien’s hand resting against your arm as he led you to his car.
Once inside, the silence had stretched painfully thin, broken only by the soft hum of the engine as he drove. You stared out the window, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from crying again. But it was no use.
“It might be better if we don’t see each other anymore,” you had whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of the tires on asphalt.
Damien’s grip on the steering wheel had tightened, his jaw clenching. “What? Why?” he had asked, his tone sharp but not entirely surprised.
“I just…” You had trailed off, your voice cracking. “I can’t do this.”
Damien had scoffed softly, shaking his head. “Whatever. Do what you want,” he had muttered, his voice laced with irritation. He didn’t argue further, didn’t push. Instead, he dropped you off in front of your dorm without another word, and you had watched his car disappear into the night, feeling a strange mix of relief and guilt settle in your chest.
Back in the present, you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block out the memory. The guilt gnawed at you, but so did the anger—anger at Kyle for pulling you into this mess, anger at Damien for not caring enough to fight, and anger at yourself for starting it all in the first place.
“Nothing?” Cartman taunted. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Kenny sighed, his voice softer now. “Cartman, chill. Seriously.”
Cartman scoffed but didn’t say anything else, slumping back against the seat with a huff.
The truck door creaked open after what felt like an eternity. Stan climbed in first, looking visibly drained, his shoulders slumping as he slid into the driver’s seat. Kyle followed closely behind, his movements stiff, his face set in a grim mask. He didn’t look at you as he closed the door and buckled his seatbelt.
Neither of them said a word as Stan started the truck, the engine rumbling to life. The tires crunched over gravel as he turned back onto the road, heading toward South Park.
You didn’t need to look to know Kyle was probably glaring at the dashboard, his fists clenched tight. And deep down, you hated how much you cared.
The rest of the drive was quiet, tension sitting thick in the air like a fog. Nobody said a word—not even Cartman, who seemed unusually preoccupied with scrolling through his phone. Stan’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, and Kyle sat stiffly, his face turned toward his window.
Finally, the truck rolled into Cartman’s driveway. The house loomed dark and quiet, the porch light flickering faintly. You noticed immediately that his mom’s car wasn’t there.
Cartman hopped out first, shoving his phone into his pocket. “Alright, losers, welcome to Casa de Cartman. My mom’s out of town for the weekend, so we’ve got the place to ourselves. Try not to break anything. Or steal anything. Looking at you, Kenny.”
Kenny snickered, nudging Cartman in the ribs. “Oh yeah? Bet she’s ‘out of town’ with one of her boyfriends again.”
Cartman’s face twisted with indignation, and he shoved Kenny hard. “Shut the hell up, poor kid! My mom has a social life, unlike your sad-ass family!”
“Social life?” Kenny said, laughing as he stumbled back. “That’s what you’re calling it now?”
“Go to hell!” Cartman snapped, shoving past him to unlock the door.
You ignored their bickering, climbing out of the truck without a word. Your chest still felt heavy, weighed down by the events of the night, and the last thing you wanted was to spend another second around any of them.
The second Cartman unlocked the front door, you brushed past him, heading straight for the stairs.
“Uh, where are you going?” Cartman called after you.
“Guest room,” you said curtly, not bothering to look back.
“Don’t touch my stuff!” Cartman yelled, but you barely heard him over the sound of your footsteps pounding up the stairs.
You pushed open the door to the guest room and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind you with enough force to make the walls rattle. The sound echoed in the quiet house, but you didn’t care.
The room was dark, lit only by the faint glow of the moon through the curtains. You leaned back against the door, your arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing.
Your mind was a mess, the events of the night replaying over and over like a broken record. Kyle’s words, Cartman’s taunts, the looks on everyone’s faces—it all churned in your head, refusing to settle.
You closed your eyes, pressing the heels of your palms against them, and let out a shaky breath. For now, all you wanted was to shut everything out, even if only for a little while.
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A couple of hours had passed, the house settling into an eerie quiet. The faint hum of the refrigerator downstairs and the occasional muffled sound of laughter—probably Kenny and Cartman—were the only reminders that you weren’t alone.
Curled up on the bed, you stared blankly at the moonlit wall, your knees tucked tightly to your chest. The exhaustion was bone-deep, but sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, those memories came flooding back, sharp and unforgiving.
The faint creak of the door startled you. Your heart leapt, but you didn’t move, your gaze fixed ahead as the door opened wider. Soft footsteps padded across the carpet, and the door clicked shut.
“Hey,” Stan said quietly. His voice was tentative, almost hesitant, and you felt the mattress shift as he sat down on the edge of the bed.
You didn’t respond.
The weight of his hand on your shoulder was light but grounding. His grip was gentle, his thumb brushing against the fabric of your shirt. “Kyle told me everything,” he said after a long pause, his voice low.
Your stomach churned, and you tightened your arms around your knees, your chest squeezing painfully. “Good for him,” you muttered, your voice muffled and heavy with bitterness.
Stan sighed, the sound full of something you couldn’t quite name—sympathy? Frustration? “He didn’t mean for it to blow up like this,” he said, his tone carefully measured. “He’s… messed up about it too. About everything.”
You let out a short, humorless laugh, the sound cracking in the stillness of the room. “Well, he’s not the only one.”
Stan’s hand lingered on your shoulder, his grip tightening slightly as if he thought it might keep you from falling apart. “Look, I’m not here to take sides, okay?” he said quietly. “I just… I think you both handled it wrong. But I also think he cares about you more than you realize.”
Your throat tightened, and you blinked rapidly, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill. “If he cared, he wouldn’t have said all that shit. He wouldn’t have turned everyone against me.”
“[Y/N], he’s not trying to turn anyone against you,” Stan said, his voice soft but firm. “He’s angry. Hurt. And yeah, he’s not handling it well, but neither are you.”
You swallowed hard, your chest aching as you stared at the wall, refusing to look at him. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.
“I know,” Stan said gently. “And I think Kyle knows that too. He’s just… figuring it out. Like you are.”
The silence stretched between you, heavy but not uncomfortable. Stan’s hand stayed on your shoulder, grounding you in a way you hadn’t realized you needed.
“Come on,” Stan said softly, his tone encouraging. “You’ve been up here long enough. Kenny and Cartman are downstairs watching some dumb movie. Let’s go.”
You shook your head, burying your face in your arms. “I can’t.”
“Yes, you can,” Stan said, his voice firmer now. “Look, I’m not saying you have to talk to Kyle or… or fix everything tonight. Just come downstairs. You don’t have to sit up here alone.”
You hesitated, the weight of his words pressing down on you. Finally, with a heavy sigh, you uncrossed your arms and sat up, your movements sluggish. Stan stood and held out a hand, waiting patiently.
Reluctantly, you took it, letting him help you to your feet.
The warmth of the living room greeted you as you followed Stan downstairs. The glow of the TV lit up the room, casting flickering shadows across the walls. Cartman and Kenny were sprawled across the couch, laughing at something on the screen.
“Hey, look who finally decided to join us,” Kenny said with a grin, glancing over his shoulder.
“You took long enough,” Cartman added, snickering. “We were placing bets on whether you’d cry yourself to sleep up there.”
Your stomach tightened as your gaze landed on Kyle, sitting at the far end of the couch. His jaw was clenched tightly, his posture rigid as his arms crossed over his chest. His brows were furrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin, tense line. He glanced at you briefly, his eyes clouded with an uneasy mix of irritation and guilt, before snapping his focus back to the TV like he hadn’t seen you at all.
Stan nudged your shoulder gently. “Go on,” he said quietly.
You glanced around, hoping for another option, but of course, the only open seat was the small space right next to Kyle. Your chest tightened as you hesitated, but Kenny noticed immediately.
“Don’t just stand there looking awkward,” Kenny said, laughing as he gestured to the seat. “Unless you wanna sit on Cartman’s lap.”
“Like hell she will!” Cartman snapped, glaring at Kenny.
Swallowing hard, you shuffled toward the couch and sank into the spot next to Kyle, keeping as much distance between you as the cramped space would allow. The cushions dipped slightly under your weight, and you felt Kyle shift uncomfortably beside you. His fingers tapped against his arm, betraying his restlessness despite the stoic expression he was trying to maintain.
The tension between you and Kyle was suffocating, thick enough to choke on, but of course, nobody in the room cared. Cartman and Kenny were still snickering in the background, while Stan kept glancing between you and Kyle like he was waiting for one of you to explode.
You stared at the TV, pretending to focus on the movie, but every tiny movement Kyle made—every shift of his leg, every fidget of his hands—burned at the edge of your vision. His knee brushed yours at one point, and you stiffened, gripping your thighs like the contact had physically scorched you.
On the screen, Arthur and Lee stumbled through a chaotic sequence during a film screening. Lee, defiant and wild-eyed, started a fire, the flames spreading rapidly as the audience screamed and scrambled for safety. The tension in the room shifted as the two characters were caught, and Arthur was thrown into solitary confinement.
“Holy shit,” Cartman muttered, his eyes fixed on the screen. “Who’s this chick again? ‘Cause she’s got way more balls than this sad fuck.”
Kenny snorted, leaning back against the couch. “She’s his girlfriend, dumbass. Keep up.”
“His girlfriend?” Cartman scoffed, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth. “She just set the building on fire. Are we supposed to root for her or what?”
Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s not about rooting for anyone. Just watch the movie.”
The scene shifted again, this time to Lee visiting Arthur in his grim, sterile cell. Her face was unreadable as she told him she was leaving to avoid his influence, but the tension between them was palpable, nearly vibrating off the screen.
The atmosphere in the room grew heavier as Lee asked Arthur to stop taking his medication. Then, without warning, the two of them collided in a feverish kiss, their desperation spilling into something more physical. Clothes were shed, hands gripped at bare skin, and the camera lingered just long enough to make the moment painfully intimate.
Kenny was the first to snicker, though it wasn’t loud. “Alright, didn’t see that coming,” he muttered, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Cartman rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat. “Oh, yeah, this makes total sense. They’re banging in solitary confinement. That’s not psychotic or anything.”
Kyle stiffened beside you, his shoulders tightening as the flush on his face deepened. He muttered a quiet, “Jesus Christ,” under his breath and turned his head sharply, refusing to look at the screen. His hand dragged over his face, his lips tight in a straight line
You felt a strange mix of irritation and something sharper bubble up at the sight of him acting so stiff and uncomfortable. The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could stop them.
“Of course you wouldn’t watch this,” you muttered, your tone low but cutting.
Kyle snapped his head toward you immediately, his green eyes narrowing. “And what the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
You crossed your arms, your gaze locked on the screen as Arthur crooned his haunting song to Lee. “Nothing. Forget it.”
Kyle wasn’t letting it go. “No, go ahead,” he said, his voice icy. “Say what you’re thinking. You’ve never had a problem before.”
Your jaw clenched as you turned to glare at him. “What’s the point? You’ll just act like you’re above it anyway.”
“Better than acting like a fucking expert on bad decisions,” Kyle shot back, his voice rising just enough to draw the others’ attention.
“Alright, can we not?” Stan cut in, sitting forward in his seat. His voice was tired, like he’d had enough of both of you. “This is starting to sound like one of my parents’ fights.”
“Seriously,” Cartman added, popping a kernel into his mouth. “If you two are gonna have a lovers’ spat, at least keep it quiet. Some of us are trying to watch this trainwreck.”
Kenny grinned faintly, glancing between you and Kyle. “I dunno. Kinda feels like part of the movie at this point.”
You ignored them, your fists clenching as you bit back the words that clawed at your throat. You refused to look at Kyle again, staring hard at the screen like it could somehow swallow you whole.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Kyle muttered beside you, his arms crossing tightly over his chest.
Your nails dug into your palms as the frustration and anger simmered under your skin. It wasn’t just about tonight. It wasn’t just about the party. It was everything that had been building between you and Kyle for weeks—months even. And now, with Arthur singing to Lee through the TV screen, his voice dripping with heartbreak and longing, it all felt unbearable.
You gripped your knees tightly, the popcorn bowl in Cartman’s lap catching your eye. The longer you stared, the more the anger churned inside you, relentless and unrelenting. It wasn’t just about tonight. It wasn’t even just about the party.
It was Kyle’s stupid, infuriating sense of self-righteousness. The way he always had to be in the right, even when it meant twisting a knife into your side to make his point.
But beneath the anger, buried deep where you didn’t want to look, was something else. Guilt.
You clenched your fists as the memories resurfaced: his lips on your neck, leaving marks you couldn’t fully hide, his voice shaky and low as he’d asked, “Are you sure?” You’d said yes. And now here you were, sitting next to him, pretending like you weren’t the one who started it all.
You didn’t want to feel guilty. He deserved your anger—didn’t he?
You glanced at the bowl again, the idea forming in your mind before you could stop it.
“Cartman,” you barked, sharper than intended. “Gimme the popcorn.”
Cartman arched a brow, hugging the bowl protectively. “Oh, sure. Let me just hand over my personal stash so you can—what? Stress-eat your problems away?”
“Just give it to me, Cartman,” you snapped, holding out your hand.
“Fine,” he grumbled, shoving the bowl into your lap. “You’re more annoying than Kyle right now. And that’s saying something.”
You ignored him, grabbing a handful of popcorn and pretending to eat, crunching loudly as if the sound could drown out your thoughts. But your gaze kept drifting to Kyle. His jaw was clenched tight, his arms crossed over his chest, his shoulders stiff like he was trying to hold himself together.
The same shoulders you’d gripped as he kissed you, hesitant at first but quickly unraveling.
The heat in your chest flared again. You didn’t even know why you were so mad anymore—at Kyle, at yourself, at the entire fucking situation. But it was easier to be mad at him.
A kernel left your hand and bounced off his shoulder.
Kyle didn’t react.
Another kernel, harder this time, hit his arm.
Kyle let out a sharp exhale, his jaw ticking, but he kept his eyes locked on the screen.
That was the last straw.
You grabbed a handful of popcorn and pelted it at him, the kernels scattering across his lap and the couch.
“What the fuck, [Y/N]?” Kyle hissed, finally snapping his head toward you. His green eyes were alight with irritation, his brows furrowed in a deep scowl.
“What?” you said, your tone dripping with mock innocence as you grabbed another handful.
Kyle brushed the popcorn off his hoodie, his scowl deepening. “Are you seriously throwing popcorn at me right now?”
“Oh, I’m sorry, am I hurting your feelings?” you shot back, throwing more.
“Cut it out,” Kyle growled, his tone low and warning.
“Or what?” you challenged, your anger bubbling over. “What are you gonna do, Kyle? Sit there and brood about it? You’re so fucking good at that.”
Cartman snorted from the other side of the couch. “This is getting good. Ten bucks says she’s gonna start throwing hands next.”
Stan groaned, standing abruptly and stepping between you and Kyle. “Alright, enough. Both of you, knock it the hell off.”
You grabbed another handful of popcorn, but before you could throw it, Stan caught your wrist, his grip firm.
“Seriously, [Y/N], stop,” he said, his voice low but sharp.
You stared at him for a moment, your chest heaving as your anger warred with something deeper—shame. Kyle didn’t deserve this. Not really.
But when Stan let go of your wrist, you couldn’t help yourself.
Grabbing the entire bowl, you hurled it at Kyle’s face with everything you had.
The bowl hit with a satisfying thunk, popcorn exploding everywhere as it bounced onto the floor.
Kyle stood abruptly, brushing popcorn off his hoodie with sharp, jerky movements. His face was flushed, his green eyes blazing. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he snapped, his voice rough with frustration.
Your chest heaved as you glared up at him. “What’s wrong with me? What the fuck is wrong with you, Kyle? You act like you’re so above everyone else, like your shit doesn’t stink, but you’re just a fucking hypocrite!”
Kyle’s lips twisted into a bitter snarl. “And you’re just a spoiled little brat who can’t take responsibility for anything!”
Stan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You guys—”
“Stay out of it, Stan!” you and Kyle barked in unison.
Kyle’s shoulders rose and fell as he glared at you, his chest heaving. For a moment, it looked like he might say more, but instead, he grabbed a stray piece of popcorn from the floor and threw it back at you.
It hit you square in the forehead.
You froze for a split second before grabbing a pillow and launching it at him. “Fuck you, Kyle!”
Kyle caught the pillow midair, tossing it onto the couch with a huff. “You’re an annoyance,” he muttered, his voice quieter but no less sharp.
“Yeah? Well, I guess I learned from the best!” you shot back, crossing your arms as you slumped into the couch.
Kyle stood there for a moment, his fists clenching and unclenching, before muttering something under his breath and storming upstairs.
The tension lingered long after he left, the silence broken only by the faint sounds of the movie.
Cartman rolled his eyes, picking up the now-empty popcorn bowl. “Great. Now what the hell are we supposed to eat?”
Stan slumped into the couch, rubbing his temples. “You guys are gonna kill me one day, I swear.”
You stayed silent, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The heat of your anger was still simmering, but somewhere deep down, you knew it wasn’t all Kyle’s fault. You just didn’t want to admit it.
The movie dragged on until the credits finally rolled, leaving the room in awkward quiet. The hum of the television filled the silence, the black screen casted the room into darkness.
Kenny shifted in his seat, turning halfway around to glance at you. His voice was soft but curious, laced with something you couldn’t quite place. “Alright… what’s your problem?”
You stiffened, your jaw tightening as his words hit like a spark to a fuse.
Stan leaned forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees as he looked at you expectantly. He didn’t say anything, but his expression said enough—he was waiting, like Kenny, for you to explain yourself.
Cartman stayed where he was, slouched on the couch, scrolling through his phone with disinterest. His silence somehow felt louder than anything else.
It was too much. The tension boiled over, and before you could stop yourself, the words spilled out, loud and raw.
“My problem?” you snapped, your voice cracking with anger. “My problem is that, of course, all of you are taking Kyle’s side! You always do!”
Stan flinched slightly, his brows knitting together. “Nobody’s—”
“Don’t,” you interrupted, your voice sharp. “Don’t sit there and pretend like you haven’t been on his side this whole fucking time! It’s always about Kyle, isn’t it? I can’t do anything without it being compared to him!”
Kenny leaned back, his brows raised. “Whoa, okay, chill—”
“Don’t tell me to fucking chill!” you shouted, your chest heaving as your voice cracked again. “You all act like I’m the bad guy, like I’m the one who fucked everything up, but none of you even tried to understand!”
Stan started to say something, but you barreled on, your voice trembling with emotion. “I was happy with Damien, okay? I liked him! But none of you could let me have that. All you did was shit on him, like I wasn’t good enough to decide for myself!”
“Damien was—” Kenny began, but you cut him off again.
“Don’t even start. I never said a word when you guys got into your first relationships. I didn’t complain when Stan got all sappy over Wendy in middle school, and I didn’t laugh when Kenny was trying so hard to impress Tammy like she was the best thing to ever happen to him. And Cartman? God, you never told anyone anything, but we all knew what you were doing, sneaking off and hooking up with random people. Nobody judged you, least of all me!”
You paused, the weight of those memories hitting you. They never told you anything about their relationships. You had to piece it together from whispers, rumors, and the occasional slip in their conversations. You always acted like it didn’t bother you, but it did. You used to wonder if it was because you weren’t one of them, not really. Maybe they didn’t trust you enough to share. Or maybe they just didn’t think it mattered. But when you had someone—when you finally kissed someone, finally felt like you had something that was yours—they tore it apart like it was a fucking joke. Like you were a joke.
Your chest heaved as the tears you’d been holding back threatened to spill. “But me?” you continued, your voice cracking as the emotions swelled. “I finally kiss someone—finally feel something—and suddenly I’m the one who has to explain myself? Fuck all of you!”
The tears broke free then, streaming hot down your face as you buried your head in your hands. Sobs wracked your body, each one pulling more of the anger and frustration out of you, leaving behind an ache so deep it felt like it might swallow you whole.
The room fell into heavy silence, your ragged breaths and muffled sobs the only sound.
Stan shifted uncomfortably, his voice soft but uncertain. “Hey, it’s not… it’s not like that. We weren’t trying to—”
“Save it,” you mumbled through your hands, your voice muffled and thick with tears.
Kenny exhaled sharply, leaning back into the couch. He didn’t say anything, and Cartman quietly went back to his phone, though his scrolling was noticeably slower.
You sat there, your head buried in your hands, as the weight of your outburst settled over the room. Somewhere, in the back of your mind, you knew you’d regret this later. But right now, it didn’t matter.
The silence dragged on until Kenny finally broke it. His voice was quiet, almost thoughtful, but there was an edge to it that cut through the stillness.
“You’re so clueless, you know that?”
You froze, your hands slowly lowering from your face as your blood ran cold. “What?” you asked, your voice shaky.
Kenny leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms as he looked at you, his gaze uncharacteristically serious. “Kyle. You never saw him as anything more than your best friend. And now you’re acting like none of this makes sense. Like you didn’t notice how he—”
“Shut up,” you snapped, your voice rising, the anger bubbling up again.
Kenny raised his eyebrows, but he didn’t stop. “How he’s looked at you all these years. How he never—”
“I said, shut up!” you shouted, cutting him off, your chest heaving. You shot to your feet, glaring at him. “How the fuck was I supposed to know, huh? He never said anything! He never—he never did anything! And what about all those girls? What about Heidi? And Rebecca? He dated them right in front of me!”
Kenny held up his hands defensively, but there was a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips that only made your blood boil more.
“Don’t look at me like that!” you snapped, your voice cracking. “You’re such an asshole! How dare you even fucking joke about this!”
“Who said I was joking?” Kenny shot back, his voice calm but pointed.
Your breath caught, and you felt your fists clench at your sides. “You’re full of shit. That’s what you are. Just because you think you know everything doesn’t mean you do!”
Cartman looked up from his phone, glancing between you and Kenny with mild interest. “Well, this took a turn,” he muttered.
Stan sighed heavily, standing up and stepping toward you. “Alright, that’s enough. Both of you.”
You ignored him, your focus locked on Kenny. Your voice trembled with a mix of anger and desperation as you continued, “You think you can just say shit like that and walk away? You don’t know what it’s like to be blindsided by something like this! You don’t know what it’s like to have someone drop a fucking bomb on you like that and then expect you to—”
“To what?” Kenny interrupted, his tone calm but firm. “To deal with it? To grow up? Yeah, maybe I don’t know what it’s like, but I can see what’s right in front of me, and so could you if you stopped being so goddamn stubborn.”
“Fuck you,” you spat, your voice breaking as tears welled up in your eyes again. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You don’t get to act like you understand.”
Kenny shrugged, leaning back against the couch again. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
The dismissive tone hit like a slap, and you turned away sharply, your arms crossing over your chest as you tried to steady your breathing.
Stan stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. “Hey. Let’s all just calm down, okay? This… this isn’t helping anything.”
You turned sharply, your glare snapping to him like a whip. “Do you agree with him?” you asked, your voice low, deadly quiet.
Stan blinked, his mouth opening slightly as if to answer, but nothing came out. His silence spoke volumes.
Your chest tightened, and the knot in your stomach twisted painfully. “I fucking knew it,” you muttered, your voice shaking. “Of course you do. Of course, Stan would take Kyle’s side too.”
Stan reached a hand out, like he wanted to say something, but you jerked away, turning toward Cartman instead.
“And you?” you demanded, your eyes narrowing as you glared at him. “What about you, Cartman? You agree with Kenny too, right?”
Cartman didn’t even look up from his phone, his thumb lazily scrolling across the screen. “Yeah, obviously,” he said casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Kyle’s been pining over you since middle school. Shit’s been pathetic to watch, honestly.”
The room felt like it tipped sideways, your balance faltering for a moment as his words sank in. You trembled, anger and humiliation coursing through your veins like fire.
“Fuck you, Cartman,” you hissed, your voice breaking.
“Join the club,” Cartman muttered, finally glancing up. His expression was as indifferent as ever. “But yeah, I agree. Kyle’s basically had a flashing neon sign above his head this whole time. You’re just too dense to see it.”
Your fists clenched at your sides, shaking as your vision blurred with tears. “You’re all full of shit,” you snapped, your voice cracking. 
Stan let out a heavy sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before stepping toward you again. “Alright,” he muttered under his breath. “That’s enough.”
“Don’t touch me—” you started, but before you could finish, Stan grabbed your wrists gently but firmly.
“Come on,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “We’re going upstairs.”
“Stan, let go of me!” you shouted, struggling against his grip. But he didn’t relent, his grip steady as he started pulling you toward the stairs.
“You’re just gonna blow up again if you stay down here,” he said over his shoulder, his voice tired but resolute. “And I’m not dealing with another screaming match. Let’s go.”
Kenny watched the scene unfold silently, his arms crossed as his lips pressed into a thin line. Cartman let out an exaggerated sigh, muttering something under his breath about Stan being the “mom friend.”
You twisted in Stan’s grip, your cheeks burning with anger and embarrassment. “Let me go, Stan! I’m not a fucking child!”
“Then stop acting like one,” he shot back, dragging you up the stairs with surprising ease. “I don’t care if you’re mad at me. But you’re not doing this tonight.”
By the time you reached the top of the stairs, your breathing was heavy, and your throat burned with unshed tears. Stan released your wrists once you were out of sight from the others, his gaze meeting yours with an exhausted but steady resolve.
“You’re angry. I get it,” he said softly, his voice low. “But maybe instead of blowing up at everyone, you should figure out what you’re actually angry about.”
You didn’t respond. Instead, you crossed your arms tightly over your chest, your jaw set in defiance as you stared past him.
Stan exhaled heavily, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Fine,” he muttered, stepping closer. Before you could react, he grabbed your arms firmly, pulling them away from your chest.
“What the hell are you doing, Stan?” you snapped, struggling against his grip.
“You’ll see,” he replied flatly, dragging you toward the guest room at the end of the hall. His tone was calm, but there was a quiet determination in his movements that made your stomach twist.
“Let me go!” you shouted, yanking at your arms, but Stan didn’t falter. He opened the guest room door and practically shoved you inside.
“What the fuck, Stan—” you started, but your voice caught in your throat when your eyes landed on Kyle.
He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his hands clasped tightly. His head shot up as the door swung open, his eyes widening when he saw you.
“Stan, what the hell is this?” Kyle said sharply, standing up.
Stan ignored him, placing a hand on the doorframe as he turned to face you. “You two are gonna figure this shit out,” he said simply.
You glared at him, your chest heaving with a mix of anger and panic. “Stan, don’t you dare—”
Before you could finish, Stan gave you a gentle but firm push further into the room and slammed the door shut.
You spun around, your heart racing as you grabbed the handle and twisted. The door didn’t budge. You yanked harder, but it was no use—Stan was holding it shut from the other side.
“Stan, open the fucking door!” you shouted, pounding on it with both fists.
From the hallway, you heard Stan’s muffled voice. “Kenny! Cartman! Bring me a chair!”
“You can’t be serious!” you screamed, banging on the door harder.
“Oh, I’m dead serious,” Stan replied, his voice calm but resolute through the door. “You two are staying in there until you talk. Or kill each other. Honestly, at this point, I don’t care which.”
You growled in frustration, twisting the handle again, but it was no use.
Behind you, Kyle let out a sharp breath, his voice laced with irritation. “What the hell, Stan?!”
“Figure it out,” Stan called back, his voice fading slightly as he presumably turned to wait for the chair.
You turned to Kyle, your hands still gripping the door handle. His face was a mixture of frustration and discomfort, his green eyes narrowing slightly as they met yours.
“I’m not doing this,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.
Kyle crossed his arms, leaning back slightly against the bedframe. “Yeah? Well, neither am I.”
The air between you felt heavy, the silence only broken by the faint sound of Cartman and Kenny laughing, dragging what you presumed to be a chair.
You pounded on the door one more time. “Stan! Open the goddamn door!”
“Nope!” came his muffled reply. “You’re not getting out until you fix this.”
You let out a sharp exhale, your hands dropping to your sides as you turned to face Kyle fully. He was watching you, his expression guarded, his shoulders tense.
“This is fucking ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, your fingers clenching into fists.
Kyle let out a short, humorless laugh. “Yeah, no shit.”
You glared at him briefly before turning back to the door, pounding on it again with both fists. “Stan, I swear to God, let me out!”
There was no response this time, just the faint sound of muffled conversation downstairs.
You slammed your palm against the door one last time before letting out a shaky breath, your shoulders slumping. It was no use. They weren’t going to let you out.
With a huff, you sank to the floor, your legs folding beneath you in a criss-cross position as you leaned against the door. You buried your head in your hands, your elbows resting on your knees, and tried to steady your breathing.
You felt like crying again, the frustration and humiliation clawing at your chest like a vice. But you were so damn tired of crying. What good had it done so far? Your tears hadn’t solved anything, and they sure as hell weren’t going to get you out of this room.
Kyle shifted on the bed, the faint creak of the mattress grating against your nerves. “You can’t just sit there all night,” he said finally, his voice cautious but firm.
“Watch me,” you muttered, your voice muffled by your hands.
Kyle sighed, the sound heavy with frustration. “Look, I don’t want to be in here any more than you do, alright? But maybe if you stop acting like a goddamn brick wall, we can actually get out of here.”
You looked up sharply, your brows furrowing as you glared at him. “You think this is my fault? That I’m the reason we’re locked in here?”
“I didn’t say that,” Kyle replied quickly, his tone defensive. “But you’re not exactly helping, are you?”
“You don’t get to talk to me like that,” you snapped. “Not after everything.”
Kyle ran a hand through his curls, his eyes narrowing as he got up and paced a few steps forward. “You keep blowing up at everyone like it’s all our fault, but you never actually say what’s going on. You don’t talk, you just—” He gestured vaguely, his voice rising. “You just shut down.”
“Oh, and you’re so great at talking, right?” you shot back, standing abruptly to face him. “Because from where I’m standing, all you’ve done is sulk and blame me for everything!”
Kyle opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought he might yell. But instead, he shook his head, exhaling sharply as he turned away. “You know what? Forget it.”
“Forget it?” you repeated, your voice cracking slightly. “That’s all you’ve got?”
He stopped, his back to you. “What do you want me to say, huh? That I’m sorry? That I didn’t mean for things to go this way? Because I didn’t.” His voice was low, almost breaking, as he turned to look at you. “I didn’t want this. Any of it.”
You stared at him, anger bubbling to the surface again, hot and unrelenting, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.
“If you didn’t want any of this,” you said sharply, “then why did you agree to do it?”
His eyes widened slightly, the raw vulnerability in his expression giving way to shock. He froze, his lips parting as if to respond, but no words came out.
You pressed on, your voice rising with each word as the emotions you’d been bottling up spilled over. “You could’ve said no! You could’ve told me to fuck off, and none of this would’ve happened! But you didn’t, Kyle. You didn’t. You sat there, and you—you said yes. You touched me, and now you want to act like it didn’t mean anything?”
Kyle’s jaw clenched, his hands twitching at his sides. “I never said it didn’t mean anything,” he muttered, his voice strained.
“Then what the fuck did it mean?!” you shouted, stepping closer to him. “Because I’m fucking tired of feeling like I’m the only one who’s carrying the weight of this. Like it was just some stupid mistake to you.”
“It wasn’t a mistake,” Kyle snapped, his voice louder now, his eyes blazing as they locked onto yours. “Do you think I don’t think about it? Do you think I don’t regret the way it all went down? Because I do! But you don’t get to stand there and act like it’s all on me. You begged me, [Y/N]. You begged me to help you, and I—” He stopped himself, his voice dropping. “I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do.”
His words cut deep, but your anger refused to waver. “You were supposed to stop me,” you said, your voice shaking. “You were supposed to tell me no. You’re Kyle fucking Broflovski—the moral compass of the group, right? You don’t fuck up. You don’t get caught in shit like this. So why the hell didn’t you stop me?”
Kyle laughed bitterly, the sound hollow and sharp. “Maybe because I didn’t fucking want to,” he admitted, his voice breaking.
The confession hung between you like a thunderclap, the weight of it knocking the air from your lungs.
“I didn’t want to stop you,” Kyle repeated, softer this time, his voice raw. “And that’s the part that’s been eating me alive. Because I knew it was a bad idea, and I still went through with it. I didn’t stop, because…” He faltered, his gaze dropping to the floor. “Because I wanted to.”
Your heart felt like it had stopped, the room suddenly too quiet. You opened your mouth to say something—anything—but the words wouldn’t come.
Kyle looked up at you again, his expression a mix of anger and guilt. “So, yeah,” he muttered. “If you’re looking for someone to blame, go ahead. Blame me. I deserve it.”
You stood frozen for a moment, his words echoing in your mind, louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. Your stomach churned, and the air in the room felt heavier, suffocating.
Without saying a word, you turned and sat down on the edge of the bed, your legs feeling too weak to hold you up any longer. You buried your face in your hands, your fingers pressing tightly against your ears as if you could block out the storm of emotions swirling around you.
But it didn’t work.
Kyle’s voice kept playing in your head, overlapping with Kenny’s, Cartman’s, and even Stan’s. You’re clueless. Kyle’s been pining for you for years. You never saw it, did you?
You clutched your chest as it hit you like a brick to the chest—Kenny had been right. They all had.
Kyle wasn’t angry because of what happened at the party. Not entirely. He wasn’t lashing out because you’d asked him for something impossible or because you’d pushed him too far. He was angry because it had meant something to him, and you hadn’t even considered that possibility.
You’d been so focused on Damien—on proving to everyone that you could have something of your own—that you’d ignored everything right in front of you. Kyle. The way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. The way he always tried to stay calm when you were upset, even when it wasn’t his fight to pick. The way his voice had softened when he’d asked, Are you sure? that night at the party.
And now here you were, sitting on the bed with your hands over your ears, trying to drown out the truth that had been staring you in the face all along.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen this way,” Kyle said softly, breaking the silence. His voice was quieter now, almost hesitant. “I never wanted to hurt you.”
You lifted your head slowly, your hands slipping from your ears as you turned to look at him. He was standing there, his arms crossed over his chest, his posture tense but his eyes… his eyes looked different now. Softer. Sadder.
He didn’t say anything else, waiting for you to speak, but the words caught in your throat.
“I…” you started, but your voice cracked, and you looked down at your hands. “I didn’t know, Kyle. I didn’t know you felt this way.”
Kyle let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah. That’s kind of the problem, isn’t it?”
His words stung, but you couldn’t blame him. He was right. You’d been so oblivious, so caught up in your own world, that you’d missed something so obvious.
Your chest ached as you looked up at him again, his expression guarded but vulnerable, like he was bracing himself for another blow.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Kyle blinked, caught off guard by your question. “What?”
“Why didn’t you tell me how you felt?” you repeated, your voice trembling as you stood up, meeting his gaze. “Why did you let me go through all of this—feeling unwanted, like I wasn’t enough? Why didn’t you stop me from dating Damien?”
Kyle flinched slightly at the sharp edge to your tone, but he didn’t look away. His mouth opened, then closed, like he was trying to find the right words but couldn’t. Finally, he exhaled.
“It’s not that simple,” he said, his voice tight.
“Then make it simple,” you shot back, fighting to keep your emotions from spilling over. “You knew how much I was struggling. You knew I didn’t feel good enough for anyone, and you—” You stopped yourself, your voice cracking. “You could’ve said something. You could’ve told me.”
Kyle’s nostrils flared, his fists tightening at his sides. “And what would I have said, huh? That I liked you? That I’ve liked you since we were kids? That I couldn’t stand seeing you with someone else because it fucking killed me? Would that have made it better, [Y/N]? Would that have stopped you from choosing him?”
“Kyle, I…” You faltered, your voice shaking as tears pricked at your eyes. “I didn’t know. I didn’t think—”
“You didn’t think I’d feel that way about you,” Kyle finished for you, his voice quieter now but no less raw. He looked down, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I didn’t tell you because I was scared. Scared you’d look at me the way you’re looking at me now. Like I’m just… some guy who got it all wrong.”
Your hands trembled at your sides, your mind spinning as you tried to process everything he was saying. “You don’t know that,” you said quietly, your voice barely audible.
Kyle let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Don’t I?” He looked up at you again, his eyes searching yours. “You wanted Damien. You chose him. And I didn’t stop you because I thought… maybe if I let you figure it out for yourself, you’d realize that he wasn’t good enough for you.”
You flinched as his words sank in. “You thought I’d come running back to you,” you said softly, the realization cutting deep.
“I thought you’d see me,” Kyle admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “But you didn’t. And by the time I realized I’d fucked up, it was too late.”
You stood there in stunned silence, his confession hanging heavy in the air. The raw vulnerability in his voice, the guilt etched into his features—it all made your chest ache even more.
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” you whispered, your voice cracking as the tears you’d been holding back finally spilled over.
Kyle took a hesitant step closer, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. “Because I was scared,” he said again, his voice trembling. “I didn’t want to lose you, [Y/N]. Not as a friend. Not as anything. So, I kept quiet. And now…” He trailed off, looking away. “Now, I don’t know if I made the right choice.”
For a moment, the room was silent, the tension between you almost unbearable. Then, Kyle moved, sitting down on the bed next to you. The mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and he kept his gaze forward, staring at the wall like it held the answers to questions neither of you had figured out how to ask.
You hesitated, your hands twisting nervously in your lap as you stared at him. His shoulders were slumped, his usual sharp edges softened by something raw and uncertain. Finally, you turned to him, your voice quiet but steady.
“Kyle,” you started, your throat tightening as his name left your lips. He glanced at you briefly, his green eyes flicking to yours before darting away again.
“We’re supposed to be best friends,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “We’re supposed to tell each other everything. Anything.”
Kyle let out a soft, bitter laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, well, some things are harder to say than others.”
You swallowed hard, your throat constricting and your stomach twisting in guilt. “I would’ve listened,” you said, leaning closer, your voice breaking slightly. “If you’d just told me, Kyle—if you’d just said something—”
“Would you?” Kyle interrupted, his voice sharper now as he turned to face you fully. His expression was a mix of frustration and sadness, his brows furrowed deeply. “Would you really have listened? Or would you have brushed it off like you always do, told me I was being dramatic or overthinking things?”
Your stomach churned, a cold knot forming deep inside as shame prickled at your skin. “I wouldn’t have done that,” you said softly, though the uncertainty in your own voice made you wince.
Kyle arched an eyebrow, his lips curling into a small, humorless smile. “Come on, [Y/N]. You’ve known me your whole life. You really think you wouldn’t have?”
His words stung because there was truth in them—truth you didn’t want to face. There had been moments, small ones, where Kyle had tried to say something, where his words had hinted at feelings deeper than friendship. And you’d missed them. Or worse, ignored them.
You dropped your gaze. “Maybe I would’ve,” you admitted, your voice barely audible. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have tried.”
Kyle sighed, his head dropping into his hands. “I didn’t know how,” he said, his voice muffled. “I thought… I thought if I just kept quiet, if I pushed it down, it would go away. That I could just be your friend and nothing more. But it didn’t work. It never worked.”
The vulnerability in his voice made your throat tighten, as though words would fail you if you tried to speak. And for a moment, neither of you said anything.
“Kyle,” you started softly. He looked up at you, his eyes glassy with emotion.
You sat there, your hands fidgeting in your lap, your thoughts spinning. This was Kyle—your best friend. The one who always had your back, who was honest with you even when you didn’t want to hear it. He never sugarcoated things, never pretended to be someone he wasn’t. Kyle was blunt, infuriatingly so, but it came from a place of care, of wanting what was best for you. You knew, deep down, that he would do anything for you if you asked. He’d proven it a hundred times over, in ways you hadn’t even realized until now. Like how he’d taken you to prom when no one else asked, saying it was no big deal, but you remembered the way he smiled at you all night, like he was proud to be there with you. He’d always been protective—too much, at times—but it was part of who he was, and it made you feel safe in ways you couldn’t explain. And now, as you sat here, the truth of his feelings laid bare, a question you hadn’t dared to ask yourself lingered in the back of your mind. Would it really be so bad? Being with someone like Kyle—someone who knew you better than anyone, someone who had always been there? You’d spent so much time chasing things that didn’t last, people who didn’t care, and yet Kyle had been right in front of you the whole time. The thought made your chest tighten, a mix of fear and something that felt almost like hope stirring within you.
“I don’t want to lose you either,” you admitted, your voice cracking. “But I can’t… I don’t know how to fix this.”
Kyle didn’t say anything. His eyes searched yours, wide and uncertain, his jaw tight with tension. A faint crease formed between his brows, and his fingers traced restless patterns on his jeans. 
You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper as you broke the quiet. “When did you know?”
Kyle blinked, his brows furrowing slightly. “Know what?”
“That you liked me,” you said, your gaze dropping to your lap. “When did you realize?”
For a moment, he didn’t answer, and you thought he might avoid the question altogether. But then he exhaled softly, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped tightly.
“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice quiet but steady. “Maybe I always did. Or maybe it was middle school, when you showed up to school in that stupid homemade shirt for Spirit Week, and everyone laughed at you. I wanted to punch every single one of them.” He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Or maybe it was prom. Watching you dance, smiling like it didn’t matter that nobody else asked you to go. Like it didn’t matter that it was just me.”
His words caught you off guard, your throat constricting as your pulse quickened.
Kyle glanced at you briefly before looking away again, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I don’t know when exactly it happened. I just… I know that every time something good happened to you, it made me happy. And every time someone hurt you, it made me want to fucking kill them.” He paused, his voice lowering. “And then Damien came along, and I told myself it was fine. That if he made you happy, I could live with it. But watching you with him…” He hesitated, his voice catching slightly before continuing. “It wasn’t just jealousy. It was this stupid, gnawing feeling, like I wasn’t enough. Like everything I’d ever done for you didn’t matter, because someone else could make you smile the way I thought only I could. I thought I was unique.”
The admission hung between you, heavy and raw, as his voice dipped even lower. “And I told myself I was overreacting, but every time I saw him with you, it was like everything I’d tried to bury just came flooding back. And I couldn’t stop it.”
He finally met your gaze, his eyes glimmering with a tenderness that sent a wave of warmth through you. “I guess I realized I liked you the moment I couldn’t pretend I didn’t anymore.”
You were quiet, his words settling over you like a weight you didn’t know how to carry. Your gaze drifted to the floor, your mind racing as you tried to process everything he’d just said. Slowly, you turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. Without thinking, you reached for the neckline of your shirt, pulling it down just enough to expose the faint, fading marks on your skin—the hickeys he’d left at the party. They were barely there now, just faint shadows of what they had been, but the memory was vivid, etched into you like a scar that didn’t hurt but would never fade completely.
You smiled softly, the corners of your lips trembling slightly as you tried to lighten the moment. “I guess I should’ve known you liked me,” you said, your voice teasing but quiet. “You don’t leave marks like these for just anyone.”
Kyle’s eyes widened slightly, his gaze dropping to your neck. His face flushed, and he quickly looked away, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I—I didn’t mean to—”
“It’s okay,” you interrupted, your voice softer now. Your own face felt impossibly hot, and you quickly pulled your shirt back into place, avoiding his gaze.
Neither of you spoke, the air dense and charged. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap, and his presence beside you felt close and magnetic, the space between you humming like a live wire.
Finally, you took a shaky breath and spoke, your voice barely audible. “I… I liked it,” you admitted, your cheeks burning. “When you kissed me. I liked it.”
Kyle’s head snapped toward you, his eyes wide with surprise. You kept your gaze fixed on your hands, unable to look at him as you continued. “And… I’m glad it was you. That you were my first real kiss.”
His breath hitched, but he didn’t interrupt, his eyes locked on you as if he didn’t dare to move.
Your fingers twisted nervously in the fabric of your pants as you went on, the words tumbling out in a rush. “And I—when you… when you touched me, I liked that too. I mean, I really liked it.” Your face burned hotter with each word, and you felt like you might melt into the floor. But even through the embarrassment, there was a sense of relief in finally saying it—finally being honest.
Kyle stared at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before his lips parted slightly, his voice soft and almost hesitant. “You… you did?”
You nodded, still not looking at him, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I really did.”
Your hands twitched at your sides, and before you could think too much about it, you reached out and grabbed his hands, intertwining your fingers with his. Kyle’s gaze snapped down to your joined hands. His fingers tensed for a moment, but then they relaxed, curling around yours like he’d been waiting for this all along.
“I was wrong,” you said quietly. “About the party. About everything. The way I acted… it wasn’t fair to you. None of it was.”
Kyle’s brows furrowed, his lips parting slightly as if to protest, but you squeezed his hands, stopping him.
“I didn’t mean any of the things I said,” you continued, your voice breaking. “You’re not a terrible best friend, Kyle. You’re not… you’re not a pathetic jealous asshole. I don’t know why I said that. I was just… angry. At myself. At the whole situation. And I took it out on you.”
Kyle’s expression softened, the tension in his jaw easing as his thumbs brushed lightly over your knuckles. “You had every right to be angry,” he said softly. “I should’ve handled things differently too.”
You shook your head, your grip on his hands tightening. “No, Kyle. You didn’t deserve any of that. You were just trying to help me, to make sure I was okay. And I wasn’t. But you—you were there. You showed me everything, even when you didn’t have to, and I…” You trailed off, your throat tightening as you tried to find the right words.
“I really do appreciate you,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “For everything. For putting up with me, for being there when I needed you, for… just being you.”
Kyle’s eyes glistened slightly, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You mean that?”
“I mean it,” you said firmly, meeting his gaze. “And I’m really proud that you’re my best friend. I don’t say it enough, but I am.”
Kyle’s lips quirked into a small, uncertain smile, his hands squeezing yours gently. “You know,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of that familiar sarcasm, “you’re going to make me start crying, and we both know I’m already bad at hiding it.”
You laughed quietly, your chest feeling a little lighter for the first time all night. “Yeah, I know,” you admitted, your voice soft.
The laughter faded, but the warmth lingered as you looked at Kyle. Really looked at him. His eyes were fixed on you, soft and unsure, as though he couldn’t quite believe you were sitting here like this. There was a faint blush on his cheeks, dusting the bridge of his nose, standing out against the light freckles that dotted his skin. His unruly red curls framed his face, a little messier than usual, and his lips were curved into a small, hesitant smile.
Something inside you shifted as you took him in, your chest tightening—but not in a bad way. He looked… cute. Adorably so. You didn’t know how you’d never noticed it before, but it felt so obvious now, like the realization had been waiting for the right moment to hit you.
Your fingers were still intertwined with his, the warmth of his skin grounding you as your grip softened. The way he looked at you stirred something deep in your chest—a mix of familiarity and something new, something that had been quietly growing between you, unnoticed by you until now. You felt it in the way his fingers twitched slightly against yours, in the way his eyes flickered with both nervousness and longing, and in the faint quiver of his breath as he waited to see what you would do.
You leaned forward slightly, your eyes tracing the curve of his jaw, the faint freckles across his cheeks, and the blush that was deepening with every passing second. He froze, his breath hitching as his lips parted slightly, like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Your heart pounded as you leaned closer, the air between you thick with anticipation, every breath feeling sharp and unsteady. His eyes widened slightly, a flicker of something raw crossing his face, and his body stilled, as though the moment might shatter if he moved.
Then, just as you were sure he might pull away, he moved too. Slowly, cautiously, like he was afraid to break whatever delicate thread was pulling the two of you together.
Your noses brushed, and the warmth of his breath ghosted against your lips. For a moment, your eyes locked, searching his as your heart pounded in your chest. And then, finally, his eyes fluttered shut, and he leaned in fully.
Your lips met his, soft and warm, and your thoughts came to a screeching halt. You hadn’t expected him to feel like this—gentle, steady, but with a hesitant edge that made your chest tighten. He tasted good, the faint hint of peppermint chapstick mixing with something else, something distinctly Kyle. His scent filled your senses too, clean and sharp, like pine and something earthy, comforting in a way you couldn’t quite explain.
The kiss wasn’t frantic or rushed, but the closeness of him, the warmth radiating from his skin, made your stomach flutter. You felt hyper-aware of everything—the way his curls brushed lightly against your temple, the slight shift of his hand against yours, the soft sound of his breath mixing with yours.
And then, the thoughts hit you all at once, a flood of realizations that made your cheeks burn. He tasted good. He smelled good. He felt good.
You weren’t supposed to be thinking about your best friend like this.
Panic bubbled up in your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you pulled back, breaking the kiss. You didn’t look at him immediately, your face hot with embarrassment as your thoughts spun out of control.
“Oh my God,” you muttered, your voice shaky. “I—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Kyle blinked, his eyes wide with a mix of surprise and concern. His lips parted slightly, still tinged with the faintest blush of your kiss, but he didn’t say anything at first.
You shook your head, stumbling over your words as you tried to explain. “I don’t even know what I was thinking. I just—I don’t know. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Hey,” Kyle interrupted softly, his voice steady despite the obvious flush on his face. He leaned forward slightly, his gaze fixed on you. “Don’t… don’t apologize.”
You froze, your breath catching as his words registered. Hesitantly, you looked up at him, your heart pounding in your chest. His expression was calmer now, the edges of his earlier nervousness softened by something deeper.
“You don’t need to be sorry,” he said, his voice quieter now. “You didn’t do anything wrong.” His hand squeezed yours gently, grounding you. “If anyone should apologize,” he added, his voice dipping slightly, “it’s probably me. I’ve been holding this back for so long, and I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d feel the same way.”
You were silent, his words settling over you like a weight. Your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he could hear it, and your palms felt clammy where they rested against his. You tried to look at him, but the intensity in his gaze made it impossible.
Finally, with a shaky breath, you murmured, “I do.”
Kyle froze, his eyes widening slightly.
“I feel the same way,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. You kept your gaze down, your face hot as the words left your lips. “I didn’t realize it before, but… I do.”
The silence that followed was thick with anticipation, a weight pressing down on you as you waited for him to respond. Then, slowly, Kyle’s hand slipped from yours, and you thought for a brief, terrible moment that he was pulling away. But instead, his hands came up to your face, his palms warm and steady against your cheeks.
“Look at me,” he said softly, his thumbs brushing lightly against your skin.
You hesitated, but the gentle insistence in his voice drew your eyes to his. The vulnerability in his gaze was gone now, replaced with something stronger, more certain.
And then he leaned in.
This time, the kiss wasn’t hesitant or unsure. It was deeper, more fervent, as though he was pouring everything he’d been holding back into this one moment. His lips moved against yours with a newfound confidence, his hands keeping your face tilted toward him.
Your hands instinctively came up, gripping the fabric of his hoodie as your body leaned closer to his. The warmth of him, the way his breath mingled with yours, sent your heart racing in a way that made your head spin.
Kyle tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss, his fingers threading lightly through your hair. There was nothing awkward about it now, no hesitation—just him, fully and completely.
You tried to keep up with him, matching the movement of his lips, but Kyle was… really good at this. His confidence caught you off guard, and the way he kissed you—like he’d been waiting for this moment forever—made your head spin.
When his teeth grazed your bottom lip, your breath hitched, and you gasped softly. Kyle didn’t miss the opportunity. His tongue slipped into your mouth, hot and insistent, tangling with yours in a way that sent a shiver down your spine.
Your fingers gripped his hoodie tighter, twisting the fabric as your body leaned closer to his. You could feel the heat radiating from him, his steady hands holding you in place as if to anchor you. The sound of your shallow breathing mixed with his as you panted softly into his mouth, your chest brushing against his with every shaky inhale.
Kyle’s hands slid down slightly, his thumbs brushing the corners of your jaw, and the gentle pressure made your heart race even faster. His kiss was intoxicating—both tender and hungry at the same time, leaving you completely breathless. A quiet sound escaped your throat—a mix between a whimper and a sigh—and you felt Kyle respond immediately, his lips pressing harder against yours as he tilted your head back slightly.
Heat surged through you, sudden and overwhelming, like a fire had been lit under your skin. You couldn’t hold back anymore. Your arms slipped up, wrapping around his neck as you pulled him closer, your fingers tangling slightly in the soft curls at the nape of his neck.
The kiss grew messier, less controlled, as your movements became more frantic. Your lips moved against his with a clumsy urgency, each kiss wetter and more uneven than the last. You could feel your inexperience showing in every hurried motion, the lack of rhythm, the way your breaths came in ragged gasps between each connection. You hoped Kyle didn’t notice, even as you felt the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck. But if he did, he didn’t say anything. Instead, he leaned into you, his movements steady and sure, meeting your sloppy kisses with a patience that made your stomach flip.
The warmth of his chest brushed against yours, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted to feel him fully, to close the space between you entirely. Acting on impulse, you tightened your arms around his neck and tugged him closer, pressing his chest firmly against yours.
The sudden closeness pulled a sharp inhale from Kyle, and you felt the sound vibrate against your lips. His hands slipped down, gripping your waist with surprising firmness as he steadied you, his thumbs brushing along your sides in a way that sent a shiver through you.
The room felt impossibly hot now, your body buzzing with sensations that were almost too much to process. You weren’t sure what you were doing, only that you didn’t want to stop.
Kyle pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his eyes locking onto yours, his pupils blown wide. His lips were red and slightly swollen, glistening from your kisses, and his breathing was as uneven as yours.
“You’re…” He paused, his voice husky as he swallowed hard. “You’re killing me here.”
His words made your face burn even hotter, and you pressed your hands to your cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. Your heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of your chest.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, your voice barely audible as you dropped your gaze. “I suck at this.”
Kyle blinked, and then his lips curled into a soft, teasing smile. “You’re apologizing?” he asked, his tone incredulous but playful.
You nodded, still avoiding his eyes. “Yeah… I mean, I’ve never really done this before… besides at that party. I’m still probably so bad.”
Kyle let out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and low as he leaned back slightly to look at you. “Bad?” he repeated, arching an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t say bad. Let’s call it… enthusiastic.”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my God. Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not making fun of you,” Kyle said, his voice light but steady. You peeked at him through your fingers and saw the way his eyes softened as he looked at you. “I’m just saying, if you’re worried about being bad, don’t be. We’ve got all night, and I’m a pretty good teacher.”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, the playful edge in his tone making your stomach flip. “All night?” you repeated, your voice trembling slightly.
Kyle leaned in closer, his hands resting on either side of your waist as his grin widened just a little. “Yeah,” he said softly, his voice dipping as his eyes locked onto yours. “Stan’s not letting us out, remember? Might as well make the most of it.”
The teasing glint in his eyes made your cheeks burn even more, but there was something reassuring in his expression, something that made you feel safe despite how embarrassed you were.
“Okay,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. “But don’t laugh at me.”
Kyle’s smile softened, and he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “I wouldn’t dare,” he said, his voice low and sincere.
You smiled back at him, your chest feeling lighter as the tension between you eased. But as his words lingered in your mind, a flicker of nervous energy surged through you. You hesitated for a moment, your fingers twitching slightly before you shrugged off your jacket and let it fall onto the bed.
Kyle’s brows raised slightly at the movement, his eyes following the fabric as it slipped from your shoulders. “Uh… okay,” he started, his voice tinged with curiosity, but you moved before he could finish.
You climbed onto his lap, straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of him.
He drew in a sharp breath, his hands instinctively coming to rest on your waist. “Whoa,” he muttered, his voice teetering between surprise and amusement.
You felt your face heat up instantly, a mix of confidence and embarrassment warring inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks.
Kyle chuckled softly, the warmth of his breath brushing against your ear. “Someone’s eager,” he teased, his fingers twitching lightly against your sides. “Didn’t you just say you were new to this?”
You groaned into his neck, your cheeks burning. “Shut up,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his skin.
His laugh deepened, the vibration of it sending a shiver down your spine. “I’m just saying,” he added playfully, “for someone who says they’re bad at this, you’re doing pretty good so far.”
You hummed softly against his neck, the sound more nervous than confident, as you pressed a light kiss to the curve of his shoulder. His warmth was comforting, and even though your heart raced with nerves, you didn’t pull away. Slowly, you tilted your head, letting your lips linger before sucking gently at his skin.
The faint taste of salt and the warmth of his pulse under your mouth made your chest flutter, but you hesitated, unsure if you were doing it right. You tried again, a little harder this time, your lips pressing more firmly as you sucked lightly.
Kyle stiffened beneath you, his fingers twitching slightly where they rested on your waist. For a moment, he seemed quiet, and you wondered if you’d done something wrong—until a low, quiet sound slipped from his throat.
It wasn’t loud, but it was enough to send a thrill through you. A subtle shudder ran through him, his hands settling more firmly against your sides as you continued, your lips brushing against his skin.
“Y-you don’t have to do that,” Kyle murmured, his voice unsteady, almost shy. But he didn’t pull away.
You paused, your lips hovering just over his neck. “I just…” you whispered, your face burning. “I wanted to try.”
Kyle’s fingers flexed against your sides, his breathing uneven as he swallowed hard. “It feels… good,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His words sent a wave of nervous excitement through you, and you pressed another kiss to his skin, your inexperience making your movements clumsy but earnest. You tried to mimic what he’d done to you at the party, lightly sucking and grazing your teeth against his neck.
Another sound escaped him, rougher this time, and you felt his hands tighten around your waist as his head tilted back slightly.
You pulled back for a moment, your lips tingling, and glanced up at him. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark and hazy, and his lips were parted like he was about to say something but couldn’t find the words.
Your lips curled into a small, shy smile as you leaned back down, pressing another kiss to the faint mark you’d left on his neck. The quiet hum of satisfaction that came from him made your chest tighten, and you couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you.
“You’re laughing at me now?” Kyle muttered, his voice thick with embarrassment, though his lips twitched upward.
“Not at you,” you whispered, your breath warm against his skin. “I just… I’m glad you don’t hate it.”
Kyle let out a shaky laugh, his fingers pressing gently against your sides. “Yeah, no chance of that.”
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips, your heart feeling lighter than it had all day. The tension and anger that had hung over you earlier now felt like a distant memory, almost impossible to believe it had been real. Just hours ago, you’d been yelling, hurling insults at each other, and now… now, things were different. Not completely back to normal—this was uncharted territory—but the warmth in Kyle’s touch and the soft, steady way he looked at you made you feel safe, like the foundation of your friendship was still there, just with something new layered over it.
You leaned in again, your lips finding his neck. The skin there was warm and soft, and you pressed a series of light kisses upwards, trailing toward his jaw. You heard him exhale softly, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as you moved closer.
When you reached his jawline, you lingered, kissing the sharp edge of it before humming softly against his skin. The sound was quiet, but the way Kyle shivered beneath you told you it had an effect. His reaction sent a small thrill through you, and you kissed along his jaw until you reached the corner of his mouth.
You pressed a soft kiss there, your lips brushing his skin so lightly it was almost a tease. Kyle turned his head slightly, his green eyes meeting yours as a small, knowing smirk spread across his face.
The expression made your heart skip, and you giggled, the sound bubbling out of you as you leaned in again. “What’s that look for?” you murmured, your voice soft but playful.
Kyle didn’t answer, his smirk widening slightly as his hands shifted higher on your sides. His gaze was steady, amused, but there was warmth there too—something that made your chest feel tight in the best way. You pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips, your cheeks burning as you let yourself get caught up in the moment. His lips were soft and warm against yours, and even though it was brief, the kiss sent sparks shooting through you.
Kyle shifted slightly beneath you, adjusting his position on the bed. The movement made you gasp softly, your breath catching in your throat as heat surged through your body.
Your eyes flicked downward, taking in the way you were straddling him, your knees pressing into the mattress on either side of his hips. The closeness, the weight of the moment, was almost tangible. Your hands pressed against his chest for balance, but it only made you more aware of his warmth beneath your palms.
Kyle noticed the slight furrow of your brow, his green eyes softening with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked gently, his voice quiet but steady.
You shook your head quickly, the warmth in your cheeks spreading as you glanced up at him. “Nothing,” you murmured, though your voice came out shakier than you intended.
Kyle didn’t look convinced, tilting his head slightly as his hands rested lightly on your waist. “You sure?” he pressed, his tone careful but curious.
You hesitated, your fingers nervously fidgeting with the fabric of his hoodie. Your heart raced as you searched for the words, your throat tightening as the question formed. Finally, you took a deep breath and spoke, your voice quiet but clear.
“Is it… okay if we go further tonight?”
Kyle froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly as your words hung in the air. His lips parted, and a delicate shiver seemed to ripple through him, but he didn’t pull away or tense under you.
You rushed to continue, your cheeks burning as you stumbled over your explanation. “I—I mean, if you’re okay with it. I want to, but I don’t want to make you feel like you have to or—”
“Hey,” Kyle interrupted softly, his thumbs brushing against your sides in a soothing motion. “Slow down.”
You stopped, your breath shaky as you looked at him nervously. His expression was calm now, a small smile tugging at his lips as he held your gaze.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low but gentle. “You don’t have to do this just because you think I want it.”
You nodded quickly, a rush of heat flooding through you. “I’m sure,” you said firmly, though your voice was still a little shaky. “I want to, Kyle. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
Kyle’s gaze softened, his fingers pressing gently into your sides. “Okay,” he murmured, his voice steady and warm. His eyes searched yours for a moment longer, as if to make absolutely certain, before he leaned forward, his lips brushing softly against yours.
The warmth of his kiss sent a spark racing down your spine, and you couldn’t hold back anymore. A rush of excitement bubbled up inside you, and your lips parted eagerly against his. Without hesitation, you slid your tongue into his mouth, meeting his in a bold, messy kiss.
Kyle let out a soft, muffled sound of surprise, his initial hesitation melted quickly, and he began to kiss you back with a fervor that only fueled your eagerness.
Your body buzzed with energy, you wiggled slightly in his lap, trying to get closer. The movement earned a sharp inhale from Kyle, and you felt his fingers dig into your sides as he let out a low groan.
You couldn’t stop yourself; your hands slipped down, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The heat between you was overwhelming, and all you wanted was to feel more, to close the gap between you completely.
You tugged at your shirt, lifting it slightly, but you didn’t want to break the kiss. It was messy and frantic now, your lips clashing as your breathing grew heavier. Kyle seemed to notice what you were doing, and one of his hands slid up to your wrist, halting your movements gently.
He pulled back slightly, just enough to speak, his lips brushing against yours as he panted softly. “Wait—wait a second,” he murmured, his voice low and husky. His eyes flicked down to your hands and back up to meet your gaze, his face flushed.
You froze, your cheeks burning as embarrassment crept up your neck. “I didn’t mean to—” you started, but Kyle shook his head, a small, breathless smile tugging at his lips.
“It’s okay,” he said softly, his tone reassuring as his thumb brushed lightly against your side. “Just… let me help.”
You hummed excitedly, your smile widening as you looked at him. Your cheeks were hot, and your heartbeat thundered in your ears, but the thrill of the moment overwhelmed any lingering nerves.
Kyle’s lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes glinting with both amusement and something deeper. “You’re really not gonna make this easy for me, are you?” he teased, shaking his head slightly.
“Not my fault you’re slow,” you shot back, your tone playfully defiant despite the heat rushing to your face.
Kyle scoffed, the sound low and amused, as he leaned forward to kiss you briefly, his lips brushing yours before pulling back. “Alright, then,” he murmured, his voice dropping slightly. “Guess I’ll pick up the pace.”
His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, his fingers brushing your skin lightly as he tugged it upward. The sensation sent a shiver through you, and you instinctively raised your arms, letting him pull the fabric over your head in one smooth motion.
The shirt landed somewhere on the floor, forgotten, as Kyle sat back slightly to take you in.
You suddenly felt hyper-aware of everything—the way his gaze lingered on you, the faint bow on your cutesy bra, the warmth of his hands still resting on your waist. Your arms twitched, almost moving to cover yourself, but when you glanced at him, the look in his eyes stopped you.
Kyle’s face was flushed, his lips slightly parted as his gaze traced over you with a quiet intensity that made your chest tighten. His expression wasn’t teasing now; it was soft, almost reverent.
“You look really good,” he said softly, his voice steady despite the red creeping up his neck.
The compliment made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t stop the shy smile that tugged at your lips. “Thanks,” you mumbled, your voice quieter now, but you didn’t look away.
Kyle’s lips curved into a small smile, his fingers gently toying with the straps of your bra. “Cute bra,” he added, his tone lighter, though there was an edge of playfulness to it.
You let out a soft laugh, your face heating even more. “Stop looking at it so much, perv,” you said, though your tone was teasing as you leaned closer, pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth.
Kyle chuckled softly, “Can’t help it,” he admitted quietly. “You’re kind of hard to look away from.”
You shook your head, a breathy laugh escaping your lips as warmth crept up your neck. “You’re so full of it,” you muttered.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, his grin widening as he watched you fidget. “Am I?” he teased.
Still laughing lightly, you reached for the hem of his hoodie, your fingers brushing the soft fabric. “It’s your turn now,” you said, your voice quieter, laced with a mix of shyness and playfulness.
Kyle blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your boldness, but his surprise quickly shifted into curiosity. “My turn?” he repeated, tilting his head slightly.
You nodded, tugging gently at the hoodie, trying to pull it upward but hesitating as you glanced at him. “Yeah,” you murmured, your gaze flicking nervously to his before darting away. “I’m not going to be the only one sitting here half-naked.”
Kyle let out a low chuckle, leaning back slightly to give you more room. “Alright, alright,” he said, his voice warm and teasing. “But I’ll warn you now—I’m blindingly pale. It’s a hazard to look directly at me under good lighting.”
You rolled your eyes, though your lips twitched into a small smile. “Kyle, I’ve seen you shirtless before. I think I can handle it.”
He snorted, shaking his head as he reached for the hem of his hoodie. “You’ve got a point,” he muttered, lifting it over his head in one smooth motion.
The hoodie ruffled his curls as it came off, leaving his hair a little messy. He tossed it aside carelessly, leaning back again as his eyes met yours, his cheeks faintly pink.
Your eyes trailed over him, taking in the soft planes of his chest and the faint freckles dusted across his shoulders. He wasn’t overly muscular, but there was a subtle strength in the way his body moved, probably years from basketball.
“Well?” Kyle asked, his lips curving into a crooked smile as he noticed your lingering stare. “Do I pass the test?”
You felt your face heat even more, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that bubbled up. “Yeah,” you murmured, your voice soft. “You pass.”
For a moment, you just stared at him, unsure what to do next. A prickling heat rose in your neck and face, and as the stillness lingered, a nervous energy bubbled up. You rubbed your arms awkwardly, your gaze flicking between his face and the space between you. You wanted to say something, to ask him what to do, but the words stuck in your throat.
Kyle noticed your hesitation immediately, his eyes softening. A gentle smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he tilted his head slightly, leaning closer. His hand brushed against your arm, steadying you, the warmth of his touch grounding you.
“You’re overthinking,” he said softly, his tone low and reassuring.
Your cheeks burned, and you glanced down, embarrassed. “I’m not—”
“You are,” Kyle interrupted, his voice calm but firm, as if he’d seen right through you. His hand moved to your waist, his touch deliberate yet careful. He guided you closer, closing the space between you effortlessly.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his eyes locking onto yours. “Just let me take care of it.”
A sharp inhale escaped you as he leaned in, his hand moving to gently cup your cheek. When his lips met yours, it wasn’t rushed or hurried. His kiss was soft and steady, each movement unhurried, like he was coaxing you out of your nervousness and silently telling you that everything was going to be okay.
Kyle tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss just enough to pull you closer without overwhelming you. The faintest hum came from him, a soft sound of encouragement that made your chest tighten in the best way.
When he pulled back just slightly, his lips hovering over yours, his thumb brushed your cheek. His gaze was steady, his eyes warm and full of patience. “Better?” he asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.
You nodded, your face hot as you leaned back in, your lips catching his again, softer this time but filled with a growing confidence.
As the kiss deepened, you pressed yourself impossibly close to him, your body instinctively seeking more of the warmth and steadiness he offered. The soft fabric of your bra brushed against his bare chest, and the sensation sent a shiver through you. Your breath hitched slightly, the realization of how close you were making your heart race.
Your hands, clammy with nervous energy, moved from his shoulders to his hair, tangling lightly in his curls. The softness of them beneath your fingers was surprising, comforting, and you used the touch to steady yourself as you tilted your head, leaning further into him.
But as the kiss continued, the heat between you became almost unbearable. The denim of your jeans felt heavy, clinging too tightly to your skin, and the warmth pooling in your body made it impossible to sit still. You shifted in Kyle’s lap, adjusting yourself instinctively, and the motion caused you to gasp softly, your breath hitching against his lips. The sound seemed to break something in him because his hands pulled you just a little closer. His grip was steady but firm, grounding you even as everything else felt like it was spinning out of control.
A flutter stirred deep in your stomach as you grinded again, this time more purposefully. The friction sent another jolt through you, and a quiet whimper slipped from your lips before you could stop it. You froze for a second, embarrassed by the sound, but Kyle didn’t falter. If anything, he kissed you harder, his lips pressing into yours with a newfound urgency that left you breathless.
The heat between you was unbearable, your core throbbing with a desperate need that seemed to pulse through every inch of you. Your hips ground against his, the slick friction sending waves of pleasure that curled your toes and made your breaths hitch. Each roll of your body against his made you whimper softly, your panties soaked as you pressed closer, needing more, craving him entirely.
Kyle groaned against your lips, the sound low and rough, and his hands slid down to your hips. His grip tightened again, guiding you as your movements became more frantic.
But then, his hands moved lower.
Before you could register what was happening, his fingers curled into the flesh of your ass, squeezing firmly as he stilled your movements. The sudden shift made you gasp, your lips parting from his as you blinked down at him, dazed.
Kyle’s chest heaved, his face flushed, and his eyes burned with an intensity that made your breath catch. But there was something else there too—something almost panicked.
You pulled back slightly, your heart pounding in your chest. “I—I’m sorry,” you stammered, your voice trembling as you tried to process what had just happened. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Stop,” Kyle interrupted, his voice low but firm. His hands stayed on your hips, steadying you as he shook his head. “Don’t apologize.”
You blinked at him, confused. “But I—”
“It’s my fault,” he said quickly, his voice dropping as his gaze darted away for a moment. His cheeks flushed even darker, and he let out a shaky breath. “I… I was about to come.”
The bluntness of his confession hit you like a lightning bolt, your face growing impossibly hot as your body went still. “Oh,” you whispered, the word barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat.
Kyle’s grip on your hips loosened slightly, his thumbs brushing softly against your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “I should’ve stopped sooner,” he muttered, his voice quieter now. “I just… you felt so good, and I—” He cut himself off, his gaze flicking back to yours, raw and vulnerable. “I’m sorry.”
You couldn’t bring yourself to look away from him, your face hot with a mixture of embarrassment and uncertainty. You hesitated for a moment, your lips parting as you tried to summon the courage to speak. The pounding of your heart in your ears was deafening, and when you finally forced the words out, your voice was soft, trembling. 
“Can I… suck you off?”
He froze.
The atmosphere shifted in an instant, his gaze locking onto yours with an unguarded intensity that sent a shiver through you. His lips parted slightly, as though he wanted to speak, but silence hung between you. Surprise flickered across his face, quickly replaced by an undeniable hunger—a mix of yearning and restraint that made your breath catch. His jaw clenched, his teeth pressing together as if he were holding himself back, and his fingers skimmed your sides with a touch so light it felt like a tease, leaving a trail of warmth that made your stomach flip.
“Did you…” He trailed off, his voice rough as he blinked, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “Did you just ask—”
“Yes,” you interrupted, your cheeks flushing even darker as you avoided his gaze. “I mean it. I—I want to.”
Kyle exhaled sharply, his hands brushing over your sides before sliding away entirely, gripping the edge of the bed instead. His fingers dug into the fabric, knuckles paling as though anchoring himself. He leaned back slightly, his chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven breaths as he processed your words.
“You’re serious?” he asked, his voice quieter now, but there was no teasing in his tone—only disbelief that made the air between you feel heavy.
You nodded quickly, your heart racing as you shifted slightly, your thighs brushing against his. “Yes,” you said again, barely above a whisper.
Kyle’s gaze darkened, his eyes flicking over your face like he was searching for any sign of hesitation. When he didn’t find any, his jaw clenched, and his lips pressed into a thin line. The tension in his posture eased slightly as he sat up straighter, his knees brushing against yours.
“Okay,” he said finally, his voice low and steady, though there was a faint tremor beneath it. His hands moved back to your thighs, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent a jolt of warmth up your spine. “But… if you want to stop at any point—”
“I won’t,” you cut him off, your voice firm despite the heat rushing to your face.
Kyle’s lips curved ever so slightly, the fleeting expression gone as quickly as it appeared. He shifted back a touch, his hands drifting from your thighs to grip the edge of the bed. His green eyes lingered on you, his voice soft when he spoke. “Alright,” he murmured. “Go ahead.”
You smiled at him, the corners of your lips curling shyly as you reached out and squeezed his hand. The simple touch steadied you, and a soft giggle slipped from your lips, breaking some of the tension in the air.
Sliding off the bed, you settled onto the carpet between his knees, the plush fibers soft beneath you as you adjusted yourself. Your hands rested gently on his knees, the warmth of his skin radiating through the fabric of his sweatpants.
The position struck you immediately. The memory surged forward unbidden: Kyle on his knees, the way his fingers had curled against you, his sharp words biting into the tension-filled air.
“This is what you wanted, right?” his voice echoed in your mind, the sharp edge of his tone still vivid, as if he’d spoken those words only seconds ago. The way he’d mocked you, his lips curling into that bitter smirk, had made your chest ache even as it set every nerve in your body alight.
Your fingers flexed against his knees, grounding yourself in the present. You glanced up at Kyle now, his expression a stark contrast to that earlier moment. The mockery was gone; his eyes held only warmth and a cautious sort of curiosity. His chest rose and fell slowly, his hands resting on the edge of the bed, his grip tight but not aggressive.
“You okay down there?” Kyle asked, breaking through your thoughts.
“Yeah,” you said quickly, your voice quiet but firm. You smiled again, the memory fading as you refocused on him.
His gaze softened, and he shifted slightly in his seat, his knees brushing against your hands as he adjusted his posture. The movement drew your attention back to the task at hand, the heat between you flaring up once more as you leaned forward slightly.
You hooked your fingers under the hemline of his pants, the motion deliberate despite the trembling in your hands. Slowly, you began to tug them down, your movements careful as if drawing out the moment would help ease the knot of nerves in your stomach. Kyle lifted his hips slightly, helping you, his breathing audible now in the charged silence.
As the waistband slid lower, your gaze dropped, and your breath hitched when you caught sight of him. The black fabric of his boxers strained against his bulge, a dark patch of precum near the tip drawing your attention immediately. The sight sent a wave of heat rushing through you, your cheeks burning as you blinked, struggling to process the image in front of you.
Kyle shifted slightly, the motion pulling your focus lower. The faint freckles that dotted his thighs caught your attention next, scattered across his pale skin like constellations. The juxtaposition of the delicate freckles against the strength in his legs made your throat tighten.
Your hands moved instinctively, steadying yourself on his thighs as you leaned closer. His skin was warm beneath your palms, the faint roughness of his hair brushing against your fingertips. You tried to focus on the texture, on the sensation of his skin under your hands, but your gaze kept darting back to the wet patch on his boxers.
Kyle’s chest rose and fell unevenly, his hands gripping the edge of the bed tightly. He didn’t say anything, but the tension in his expression was palpable. His jaw tightened briefly, his lips pressing into a firm line, and the faint flush creeping up his neck deepened.
You offered him a nervous smile, your cheeks burning as your fingers twitched against his thighs. The freckled skin beneath your hands was warm and grounding, but the weight of the moment still made your palms clammy. You rubbed them lightly against his legs, as if trying to steady yourself.
Kyle’s  eyes softened slightly, and he gave you a weak, tentative smile in return, though the tension in his posture didn’t completely dissipate.
Rocking forward on your heels, you leaned up toward him, pressing the lightest of kisses to his lips. The contact was fleeting but enough to make his breath catch, his hands loosening their grip on the bed for a moment.
You hovered close to him, your lips brushing his as you murmured, “Is this really okay?” Your voice was soft, uncertain, and laced with the nervous energy buzzing through you.
Kyle’s throat worked as he swallowed, his gaze locked on yours. His eyes flicked between your face and the boxers you were tugging at, his breathing growing heavier. “Yeah,” he said quietly, his voice rough and strained but clear. “It’s okay.”
His words sent a wave of warmth through you, a flicker of reassurance cutting through your nerves. You kissed him again, this time lingering a little longer, the faint taste of his breath mingling with yours as your fingers curled more firmly around the waistband of his boxers.
Kyle groaned softly against your lips, as his hands hovered by his sides, like he was resisting the urge to touch you. “Go ahead,” he murmured, the words half-whispered, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.
You nodded faintly, your lips brushing his once more before you pulled back just enough to focus on what came next. Your fingers tightened slightly against the waistband, and with one more glance up at Kyle, you slowly began to ease the fabric downward, a shiver running through you as you revealed him inch by inch. Kyle shifted slightly, lifting his hips to help you, a quiet exhale escaping him as the fabric slid lower. The soft cotton clung to him momentarily, and then, in a sudden, fluid motion, it slipped past his thighs and down to his ankles.
His cock sprang free, slapping lightly against his stomach with a faint, wet sound that sent a shiver through you. The movement left a smear of precum glistening on the pale skin above his navel, and the sight of it made your cheeks flush even hotter.
This was the first time you’d seen one in person, and you couldn’t help but stare. Kyle’s cock was long and thick, the shaft a shade darker than the rest of his pale, freckled skin, with faint veins running along its length. The head was flushed a deep pink, almost red, the slick sheen of precum making it glisten faintly in the dim light.
The faint curve of it toward his stomach gave it a graceful shape, and the sight struck you as unexpectedly… beautiful. His freckles continued down his thighs, faint and scattered, accentuating the way his muscles flexed beneath his skin.
You swallowed hard, your breath catching as you took it all in. Your fingers rested on his thighs for balance, and your eyes flicked back up to his face. Kyle’s lips were parted, his breathing shallow, and his gaze burned into you with a focus that made your stomach twist in the best way.
“Hey,” Kyle said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. A tiny smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was no teasing in his tone—just a steady reassurance that steadied your nerves. “You okay down there?”
You nodded quickly, your voice catching in your throat as you replied, “Yeah. I just… you’re really…” You trailed off, biting your lip as your cheeks burned brighter.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something closer to a genuine smile. “Really what?” he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
“Pretty,” you admitted quietly, the word slipping out before you could stop it.
Kyle blinked, clearly caught off guard, and for a moment, his confident demeanor cracked. His cheeks flushed a deeper red, and he let out a soft, breathless laugh. “I—thanks, I guess,” he said, his voice breaking slightly.
You hummed softly in reply, your throat too tight to form proper words as you adjusted your position on your knees. Tentatively, you reached out, your hand hovering for a moment before carefully wrapping around him.
Your thumb brushed lightly against the silky head, the feeling unfamiliar, and your eyes caught the bead of precum pooling there, glistening faintly in the dim light. Then with a slow, shaky exhale, you swiped your thumb over the tip, gathering the slick wetness. Kyle’s breath hitched audibly at the motion, and you glanced up at him, your cheeks burning as you met his heavy-lidded gaze.
Taking his reaction as encouragement, you smeared the precum along the length of his cock, your fingers spreading it in slow, deliberate strokes. The slickness made your movements smoother, and you felt the tension in his thighs beneath your other hand as his breathing grew heavier.
The warmth of him, the way his cock twitched faintly under your touch, sent a strange mix of nerves and anticipation curling in your stomach. Once you’d coated him thoroughly, you glanced up at Kyle again, your voice trembling as you asked, “What do I do now?”
His eyes flicked down to meet yours, his brows furrowed slightly as he processed your words. For a moment, he just stared at you, his lips parting as if searching for the right thing to say.
“Just… move your hand,” he said finally, his voice rough and low. “Up and down, like this.” He made a small gesture with his hand, his cheeks flushing deeper as he tried to guide you.
You nodded quickly, your gaze dropping back to him as you wrapped your hand more firmly around his length. Slowly, you slid your hand down, the slickness making the movement easier, before gliding back up.
Kyle let out a sharp exhale, his fingers curling against the edge of the bed as his hips shifted slightly beneath you. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice tight. “Just like that.”
You adjusted your grip, your hand moving more fluidly as you grew accustomed to the motion. Each pass drew a faint reaction from him—a sharp inhale, the flex of his thighs under your touch—and you found yourself drawn to his every sound and movement.
“Good,” Kyle muttered, his voice strained but sincere. His eyes softened as he looked down at you, his lips parting as if to say something else, but the words caught in his throat. “You’re doing… really good.”
The praise sent a thrill through you, a rush of anticipation flooding your senses as you glanced up at him. The sight of his flushed cheeks, his slightly parted lips, and the way his lashes fluttered when your hand moved just right made your pulse race even faster.
“Okay,” you whispered, your voice shaking but determined as you continued, your movements growing steadier and more confident with each stroke.
Kyle let out a shaky breath, his head tipping back slightly. He bit down on his lower lip, clearly trying to stifle the sounds threatening to escape, but the faintest groan slipped past anyway. His hips shifted forward almost unconsciously, and his hands moved, one settling lightly on the back of your head, the other brushing against your hair as though steadying himself.
You glanced up at him, your heart skipping a beat at the sight. His green eyes were half-lidded, their sharp focus unwavering, tracing every subtle movement you made. A faint crease formed between his brows, as though he were concentrating too hard, and the flush on his cheeks deepened with every passing second, highlighting the freckles scattered across his skin. His jaw was tight, the muscle twitching slightly, and his lips pressed together in a way that suggested he was fighting to keep his composure. The intensity in his gaze, paired with the way his shoulders seemed locked with tension, told you everything he wasn’t saying aloud.
Your fingers tightened slightly around him, your breath catching as you hesitated. “Kyle,” you murmured softly, your voice barely audible over the sound of his uneven breathing.
His gaze dropped to meet yours immediately, his brows furrowing slightly as though worried he’d done something wrong. “Yeah?” he asked.
You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning as you shifted your grip slightly. “Can I… put it in my mouth now?” you asked quietly, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.
Kyle’s eyes widened slightly, the tension in his expression flickering into something softer, though the flush on his face deepened. He exhaled sharply, his fingers brushing against your hair as though he couldn’t decide whether to guide you or give you space.
“Yeah,” he said finally, his voice low and hoarse, barely above a whisper. “If you want to.”
Your lips curved into a small smile, the nervous energy in your chest giving way to something braver. You felt the wetness pooling in your mouth as you swallowed and leaned in closer. “Can you… guide me?” you whispered softly, your voice trembling.
Kyle’s chest rose subtly, his eyes locking onto yours as his hand shifted on the back of your head, his fingers brushing gently through your hair. He hummed softly, the sound low and quiet as it filled the space between you.
Tentatively, you stuck out your tongue, the slick sheen of your saliva catching the dim light as it pooled at the tip. A single bead dripped onto him, landing with a faint slick sound that made his thigh muscles flex beneath your hand.
Kyle let out a quiet, broken moan at the sensation, his fingers tightening slightly in your hair as though anchoring himself. Encouraged by his reaction, you leaned in further, pressing the softest of kisses to the head of his cock.
The saltiness of his precum mingled with your saliva, and you felt a faint shiver run through you as the unfamiliarity of it gave way to curiosity. Each kiss grew a little bolder, a little firmer, until your lips parted slightly, brushing the tip in a tentative caress.
As you adjusted your position, your other hand, still wrapped around the base of his length, squeezed reflexively, the pressure firmer than you intended.
“Ah—fuck,” Kyle gasped sharply, his hips jolting forward instinctively. His grip on your hair tightened momentarily before loosening as he let out a shaky breath. “Not so tight,” he muttered, his voice strained but soft, his flushed face glancing down at you with a mixture of surprise and reassurance.
Your face burned as you quickly relaxed your grip, glancing up at him apologetically. “Sorry,” you whispered, your lips brushing against the tip as you spoke, earning another quiet groan from him.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his tone slightly breathless. “Just keep going. You’re doing fine.”
His encouragement settled the nerves fluttering in your chest, and you leaned in once more, letting your tongue flick against him experimentally before pressing another kiss to his flushed tip. The soft sound he let out in response sent a thrill through you, bolstering your growing confidence.
Taking a steadying breath, you opened your mouth wider, your lips parting as you leaned in further. The warmth of him against your tongue was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, the faint saltiness mingling with the clean taste of his skin. You hummed softly at the sensation, the vibration making Kyle groan quietly above you.
You eased forward slowly, inch by inch, your lips stretching to accommodate him as the weight of his cock settled against your tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut briefly, the sensations overwhelming, but you forced them open again, wanting to see the way Kyle reacted. He bit his lip hard, his head tipping back slightly as his chest rose and fell in uneven breaths. His hand tightened in your hair, not to force you but as if grounding himself in the moment.
As you took more of him in, the stretch made your jaw ache slightly, but you pushed through it, adjusting your position to make it easier. The salty slickness on your tongue made the glide smoother, and you felt yourself relaxing into the rhythm, inching closer and closer to the base.
Your eyes began to sting faintly, the effort making your breath hitch through your nose, but you didn’t stop. The faint hum of arousal pooling in your stomach only grew stronger, the wetness between your thighs becoming impossible to ignore as you leaned forward further.
The tip of him nudged at the back of your mouth, the pressure making you pause briefly to steady your breathing. Your fingers gripped his thighs for support, your nails digging in slightly as you adjusted to the sensation.
“Shit,” Kyle muttered above you, his voice rough and strained as he looked down, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded. “Fuck, [Y/N]… you’re…” He trailed off, his words dissolving into a shaky groan as his hips twitched forward slightly.
You glanced up at him, your gaze meeting his, and the intensity in his expression sent a shiver through you. His lips were parted, his face flushed, and the sight only spurred you on. You hummed again, the sound vibrating against him as you inched forward just a little more, the tip pressing deeper against the back of your throat.
A thought flickered through your mind, shaky and uncertain but insistent: you should probably start moving now. Slowly, you pulled back, his cock sliding along your tongue, slick and warm as you adjusted your grip on him. Your hand, still resting at the base, tightened slightly as you began to mimic the motion of your mouth. Leaning forward again, you let your lips close around him once more, inching downward and then back up in a tentative rhythm. The motion was clumsy at first, your movements unsure, but the quiet groans spilling from Kyle’s lips told you you were doing something right.
Saliva gathered quickly, pooling around your tongue and spilling messily from the corners of your mouth as you continued. The wet, slick sounds filled the room, each motion drawing more saliva until it coated his length and dripped onto your hand, glistening in the dim light.
A need burned low in your chest—not just to please him but to see how far you could take him. You glanced up through your lashes, meeting Kyle’s wide, uncertain eyes. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted slightly, and though he tried to stay quiet, his chest rose and fell with shallow, uneven breaths.
“K-Keep going,” he murmured, barely audible, his voice raw and strained. His hand hovered near your head, uncertain if he should touch you, but when you sank a little deeper, the tip brushing the back of your throat, his fingers curled into the sheets instead, gripping tightly.
Encouraged by his reaction, you pushed further, forcing yourself to relax as you took him deeper. The stretch made your throat tighten and your eyes water, but you didn’t pull back. You wanted him to lose control, even if you couldn’t say the words aloud. The wet, muffled sound of your gagging filled the room, and Kyle squeezed his eyes shut, his breath catching in his throat.
“Y-you don’t have to—” he whispered, his voice trembling as his other hand covered his mouth. His words dissolved into a soft, shaky groan when you hummed around him, the vibration making him twitch against your tongue. His hips jerked despite himself, and he immediately froze, his thighs tensing beneath your hands. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”
You pulled back just enough to shake your head, your lips brushing over his sensitive skin in the process. Then you moved down again, slower this time, taking him as deep as you could, letting him feel every inch. 
Kyle’s body stiffened, and he pressed his hand harder against his mouth to stifle a low, shaky moan. “Oh, God,” he mumbled, the words barely audible. His other hand hovered again, indecisive, before it finally settled on your cheek. His thumb brushed tentatively against your damp skin, trembling slightly. “I’m... I’m so close,” he whispered, his voice cracking as his eyes squeezed shut.
You didn’t pull back. If anything, you leaned in, silently urging him to let go. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, and you wanted more, needed to take all of him. Your hands tightened on his thighs, grounding him as you moved again, deeper, wetter, swallowing around him.
Kyle gasped softly, his hand leaving your cheek to clutch the bedpost for support. He muttered something too quiet to catch, his body trembling as he finally gave in. His release came in warm, heavy bursts, coating your tongue and sliding down your throat. You swallowed quickly, not letting a single drop escape, even as the taste lingered and his body shuddered beneath your touch.
When you finally pulled back, your lips red and swollen, Kyle was staring at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. His hand covered his mouth again, as if to hold in the sounds he hadn’t meant to make. His curls clung to his forehead, damp with sweat, and his face was impossibly flushed.
“You... you didn’t have to...” he started, his voice soft and breathless, but the words trailed off as he looked at you.
You swallowed the last traces of him, licking your lips, and ducked your head slightly, a shy heat creeping up your neck. “I wanted to,” you murmured, your voice quiet but steady.
Kyle’s chest rose and fell as he stared at you, his expression a mix of gratitude and awe. He didn’t speak, his words lost in the haze of the moment. Instead, his hand lingered against your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lips with the gentlest touch, like he still couldn’t believe what had just happened.
You stayed on the floor, your knees pressing into the carpet as you gazed up at him. Your thighs pressed together subtly, the slick wetness between them making you shift slightly, your body humming with awareness.
Kyle’s hand didn’t move from your face, his thumb brushing over the corner of your mouth with an almost reverent touch. His other hand lifted, hesitant at first, before gently cradling the side of your head. His fingers slid through your hair, his touch so careful.
“You’re... amazing,” he murmured, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. His eyes searched yours, his gaze filled with something so pure. “I don’t even know how to... I mean, I—” He paused, his lips curving into a shy, nervous smile. “I just hope you know how much you mean to me.”
The sincerity in his voice made your chest feel impossibly tight, your breath catching as you stared up at him. Your lips parted, but no words came out. All you could do was lean into his hand, your skin warming under his touch, your pulse quickening with every second that passed.
“Kyle...” you murmured, your voice barely audible.
He leaned forward slightly, his movements slow and unsure, as if afraid of scaring you off. “You’re okay, right?” he asked softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek now. “I didn’t hurt you or—”
“No,” you interrupted, shaking your head quickly. Your voice was steadier this time, though you still felt the nervousness coursing in your veins. “You didn’t hurt me. I just...”
Your words trailed off, your gaze flicking to his lips. They were so close, warm and inviting, and you couldn’t fight the pull any longer. Hesitantly, you leaned forward, your knees shifting against the floor as you moved closer.
Kyle’s breath hitched, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand on your cheek moved to cradle your jaw, his touch as gentle as ever. “You can... if you want to,” he whispered, his voice trembling but impossibly sweet. “I’d like that.”
Encouraged by his words, you tilted your head and closed the gap, your lips meeting his in the softest, most tender kiss. His lips were warm and pliant, moving against yours with a hesitant sweetness that made your chest ache. He kissed you like you were fragile, like he wanted to savor every second, and it made your heart swell. You wondered if he could taste himself, and if he did, he didn’t seem to mind.
You kissed him again, your lips moving softly, savoring the warmth of his mouth. As your hand hesitated over the button of your jeans, your nerves mingled with the building heat between you. You fumbled slightly, the tiny metal button slipping against your fingers before finally popping free. The sound was quiet but loud in the stillness.
Kyle noticed the movement, his lips pausing against yours. He pulled back, his breath soft and warm as he spoke, “Wait... are you sure?” His eyes searched yours, not with hesitation, but with concern—like he wanted you to feel safe, to know you had all the time in the world.
You nodded, your face burning, your hands trembling as you pushed the denim down your thighs. “I... I want this,” you whispered, the words so soft they barely reached your own ears, let alone his.
Kyle exhaled a shaky breath, his lips parting as though he wanted to say something else, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, his hand moved to yours, his touch gentle as he steadied your fingers. “Okay,” he murmured, his thumb brushing lightly over your knuckles. “Just... let me know if it’s too much, alright?”
The cold air hit your skin as the jeans slipped to your knees, the sharp contrast making you shiver. You couldn’t help but glance away, your cheeks hot as you became hyperaware of the damp fabric of your panties, the way they clung to you in ways you couldn’t hide.
Kyle’s gaze followed yours, but there was no teasing in his expression—only quiet reverence. His lips curved into a soft smile, and his hand returned to your cheek, tilting your face back toward his. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, his voice trembling slightly but filled with sincerity. “You don’t have to be nervous with me.”
A soft hum escaped your lips, a sound of quiet acknowledgment. You pushed yourself upward, moving slowly onto his lap, your thighs settling on either side of his hips. The sudden closeness made your heart race, the warmth of his body grounding you even as your nerves buzzed.
Kyle’s hands shifted instinctively to your waist, his fingers flexing lightly against your skin. “Hey,” he said softly. “You don’t have to rush.”
“I know,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You wrapped one arm around his neck, pulling him closer as your other hand moved behind your back, fumbling with the clasp of your bra. Then, you felt it: the firm press of his cock against your cunt, separated only by the thin fabric of your panties. The friction sent a jolt of heat through you, and you froze, your face flushing hotter. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you shifted slightly, trying to ease the pressure, but the movement only made it worse. Your clit brushed against him, and you bit your lip, a small sound escaping before you could stop it.
Kyle’s hands tightened subtly on your waist, steadying you. His voice was low when he spoke, soft but steady. “Don’t be embarrassed.” He tilted his head, catching your gaze with his warm, steady eyes. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”
You swallowed hard, your breath trembling as you tried to find your voice. “I just... it’s a lot,” you admitted quietly, glancing down as your fingers faltered on the clasp.
Kyle’s lips quirked into a gentle smile, and he leaned forward, brushing a featherlight kiss to your temple. “I know,” he said softly. “It’s a lot for me too.” His tone was sincere, devoid of teasing, but there was a quiet confidence in the way he held you—like he’d done this before and knew exactly how to make you feel safe.
With a small, reassuring hum, his hand slipped to your back, his fingers deftly undoing the clasp of your bra with practiced ease. “Here,” he murmured, his voice tinged with warmth as the fabric loosened. “Let me.”
You nodded, your cheeks burning as the bra slid down your arms. Kyle leaned back slightly, his gaze sweeping over you with an almost reverent intensity. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted into a mischievous smirk, a glint of playfulness in his eyes. “You’re blushing,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing as he leaned in to press a warm kiss to your temple. “It’s cute.”
You shot him a quick glare, your embarrassment spiking, but before you could say anything, his hands slid to your hips, guiding you with an effortless strength until your back pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, cocooning you in his warmth, his breath brushing against your ear as he settled you comfortably against him.
“Relax,” he murmured softly, his voice impossibly tender but laced with just enough teasing to make your heart skip a beat. One hand trailed upward, cupping your tit before his fingers gently tugged at your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and forefinger. The sensation sent a jolt of electricity through you, making your thighs clamp together instinctively.
“K-Kyle,” you stammered, but your voice broke into a soft whimper as his other hand slid lower, brushing over your panties. His touch was slow, his fingers traced the damp fabric, pressing lightly against your clit and drawing slow circles. The friction made your breath hitch, and a high-pitched squeal escaped your lips before you could stop it.
Your hands flew to your mouth, muffling the sound as your face burned hot with both pleasure and mortification. You twisted slightly in his hold, shooting him a sharp, pointed glare. “Stan, Cartman, and Kenny are downstairs!” you hissed under your breath, your voice urgent but breathy. 
Kyle’s smirk only deepened, his eyes glittering with mischief as he pressed his lips to your shoulder. “Then you’d better keep quiet,” he whispered, his voice low and teasing, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But I don’t think you can.”
His words made your stomach flip, and you bit down on your lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds threatening to spill out as his hand continued its slow, maddening rhythm over your clit. His fingers on your nipple tugged gently again, and your resolve began to crumble.
You squirmed against him, your body reacting instinctively to his touch. His fingers pressed and circled over your clit making your head spin. You tried to steady your breathing, to regain even a shred of composure, but it was impossible. Every motion, every deliberate movement of his fingers, left you trembling.
Your head lolled to the side, exposing the curve of your neck, and his lips followed instinctively, brushing featherlight kisses against your skin. The warmth of his breath, the softness of his mouth, sent waves of heat rippling through you. “You’re so perfect,” he murmured softly, his voice trembling slightly, as if the words had slipped out before he could stop them.
A quiet whimper escaped you, your cheeks burning at his praise. “Don’t say that,” you whispered, your voice shaky and small, though your body betrayed you by leaning into his touch.
Kyle’s lips paused against your neck, and he pressed a firmer kiss there before pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. “Why not?” he asked softly. His hand didn’t stop moving, his fingers still  brushing over your clit in slow circles. “It’s true.”
You wanted to argue, to push back against the intensity of his gaze, but the warmth in his expression made it impossible. Instead, you turned your head away, burying your face against his shoulder as if that could shield you from the weight of the moment.
“I can feel how much you’re shaking,” he murmured. His hand on your chest moved, fingers trailing lightly along your ribs before resting over your racing heart. “You’re so incredible.”
The sweetness in his words made your stomach twist in a way that was both unbearable and intoxicating. “Kyle,” you whined, your voice breaking as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. His fingers slid through your wetness, the first bare touch sending a jolt of pleasure so sharp you couldn’t hold back a gasp.
He stilled for a moment, his fingers hovering, and his other hand came to rest gently on your hip. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said softly, his lips brushing against your temple as he spoke. “I mean it. Just say the word, and I’ll stop.”
You turned your head slightly, just enough to look at him, your breaths shallow and uneven. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure.
Kyle nodded, his thumb brushing a soothing circle against your hip. “Okay,” he murmured. The reassurance in his voice, the steady way he spoke, made your chest ache even as your body burned with need. His fingers teased at your entrance, brushing against your slit with just enough pressure to make your hips jerk. The sensation was maddening, like he was savoring every second of the moment. His other arm stayed wrapped around you, holding you close as though you were the only thing that existed.
The memory struck suddenly and sharply—the party. The way he had knelt between your thighs, his mouth hot and hungry, his fingers plunging into you with a rhythm that left you crying out. You could still feel the heat of his tongue, the wet, obscene sounds that filled the room, the overwhelming sensation as your body gave in completely. The way you’d lost control, squirting all over him, had left you reeling with equal parts pleasure and humiliation.
The thought burned through you now, leaving you overwhelmed. Your chest tightened, a hot flush spreading across your skin. “Kyle,” you whimpered, your voice shaky as you pawed at his chest, pushing against him in a rush of embarrassment. “I can’t.”
Kyle froze immediately, his hands lifting from your body as you slid off the bed. “What happened?” he asked, his voice soft but tense, concern flickering in his eyes. “Did I do something wrong?”
You didn’t answer, your back to him as you crossed the room to the dresser. The drawer slid open with a creak, and you rifled through its cluttered contents, your fingers trembling slightly as you searched. “No, it’s not that,” you mumbled, your words rushed as you pushed past loose papers and random odds and ends. You knew Cartman’s mom kept condoms here somewhere—of course she did.
Kyle sat up straighter, his gaze following you as his chest rose and fell with uneven breaths. “Then what is it?” he pressed, his voice firmer but still gentle, like he didn’t want to scare you off. “Talk to me.”
Your fingers finally brushed against the foil packet, and you pulled it free, the cool metal crinkling in your hand. You hesitated for a moment, staring down at it before turning back to him. “I just...” You swallowed hard, your cheeks burning. “I need to grab this first.”
Kyle’s eyes flicked to the packet, his expression softening as understanding dawned. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you quietly, his gaze steady and warm. When you stepped closer, his lips curved into a faint smile, and he reached out, taking the packet from your hand.
“Okay,” he said simply, like it was the most natural thing in the world. He set it aside on the bed before sliding his hands to your waist. His touch was sure and steady, grounding you as his eyes met yours. “You’re sure about this?” he asked, his tone soft.
You nodded, the tension in your chest easing slightly at his response. “I’m sure,” you said.
Kyle smiled again, a small, almost shy curve of his lips as his hands brushed over your hips, pulling you closer. “Good,” he murmured, his fingers trailing along your sides.
You stayed standing, your body buzzing with heat and nerves, unable to make yourself sit down just yet. The house was quiet except for the faint creak of old floorboards and the occasional muffled sound of laughter from downstairs. 
Kyle removed his hands from you, causing you to look over and glance at him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his brows furrowed in concentration as he rolled the condom on. He looked so sure, so steady, and yet you felt like you were barely keeping it together. The image of him there—your best friend, the boy who’d been with you through everything—made your stomach twist in ways you couldn’t untangle.
Your chest tightened as you thought about the countless memories you’d shared. The hours spent talking, laughing, fighting, and making up. Every moment of your life seemed intertwined with his. And now, in this moment, you weren’t just best friends anymore.
Pressing your hands harder against your cheeks, you shook your head, trying to push away the thoughts threatening to overwhelm you. But they wouldn’t stop. You wanted him—not just now, not just like this. You wanted everything with him. The realization burned through you, leaving you trembling.
“Kyle,” you said suddenly, your voice breaking as you turned back to him.
He looked up, startled, his hands pausing mid-motion as his eyes met yours. Concern flickered across his face. “What? What’s wrong?”
Your heart was pounding, your hands clenching at your sides as you blurted out, “Will you be my boyfriend?”
The room went still, the air thick and heavy as the question hung between you. Kyle stared at you, his expression frozen in shock. “What?” he said softly, his voice barely audible.
You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to hold his gaze even as your cheeks burned. “I mean it,” your voice trembling. “I want you to be my boyfriend. I… I don’t want this to just be something we do. I want it to mean something. I want you.”
Kyle’s face softened, but his brows drew together, conflicted. He set the condom aside, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward slightly. “Are you serious?” he asked, his voice low and careful.
You nodded quickly. “I’ve never been more serious about anything. You’re my best friend, but I… I don’t just want to be your best friend anymore. I don’t think I can be. Not after this.”
Kyle’s shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, his gaze dropping to the floor as he ran a hand through his curls. “This is… a lot,” he said quietly, his voice tight with emotion. “I don’t even know if I’d be good at that, at being your boyfriend.”
“You’re already good at it,” you said, stepping closer, your hands reaching for him. “You’ve always been good at it. You’ve always been there for me, Kyle. I trust you more than anyone. And this—this feels right. Doesn’t it feel right to you?”
He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with so many emotions it made your chest ache. “It does,” he admitted softly. “But I’m scared. If I screw this up, I’m going to lose you, and I can’t—” He stopped, his words catching in his throat as he shook his head. “I can’t lose you.”
You squeezed his hands back, leaning closer, your forehead brushing against his. “You’re not going to lose me,” you whispered, your voice firm despite the tears threatening to spill. “You won’t.I trust you.”
For a moment, he just stared at you, his breath coming shallow and uneven. Then, slowly, he nodded, his lips curving into a small, shaky smile. “Okay,” he said softly, the word carrying all the weight of his emotions. “Okay. I’ll be your boyfriend.”
The seriousness of the moment lingered for a beat longer before you giggled, a nervous, joyful sound that you couldn’t hold back. “That’s it? No dramatic speech? Just… okay?” you teased, leaning forward and giving his shoulder a playful push.
Kyle raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into something between a smirk and a grimace as he flicked your forehead lightly. “What, you want me to write it out for you? Sign a contract or something?” he asked, his voice dry but warm.
Still holding his hand, you glanced down at the way your fingers were intertwined, your laughter trailing off into a soft hum. The sight of your hands together, so familiar yet somehow different now, sent a strange but comforting warmth through you. But as your gaze shifted, you noticed something else—his cock, still hard, the condom snugly in place. The absurdity of the moment hit you all at once, and a burst of laughter escaped before you could stop it.
Kyle blinked, clearly caught off guard. “What now?” he asked, his ears reddening as his eyes darted between you and where your gaze had landed.
“I’m sorry,” you gasped between giggles, doubling over slightly as the laughter spilled out of you. “I just—it’s so funny! You’re sitting there with a condom on, looking all serious, like we’re in some kind of romance movie, and I’m—” You couldn’t finish, dissolving into laughter again as you clutched your stomach.
Kyle groaned, dragging a hand through his hair. “Wow,” he muttered, but there was no irritation in his tone, only the faintest hint of amused exasperation. “You have this gift for ruining the moment, you know that?”
“I’m not ruining it!” you protested, trying to catch your breath. “It’s just—it’s us. Look at us!” You gestured between the two of you, a grin still tugging at your lips.
He shook his head, his hands dropping to his lap as he stared at you with mock dismay. “I’m starting to think this was a terrible idea,” he said, though the soft smile breaking through his expression betrayed him.
“Too late,” you quipped, biting your lip to stifle another giggle as you hooked your thumbs under the waistband of your panties. You began shimmying them down, the damp fabric sticking slightly to your skin as you wiggled your hips. The cool air against your thighs sent a shiver up your spine.
He sat up straighter, his eyes flicking between your face and your bare skin. “Wait—wait a second,” he said, holding up a hand like he was trying to slow the moment down. “Are you seriously laughing while…” He trailed off, his cheeks reddening as he gestured vaguely toward your legs.
You grinned, letting the panties drop to the floor as you stepped out of them. “What? It’s funny!” you said, your voice light and teasing, though your heart was racing in your chest. “This whole thing is—kind of ridiculous, don’t you think?”
Kyle rubbed the back of his neck, the corner of his mouth twitching as he tried to hold back a smile. “Ridiculous?” he repeated, his tone laced with quiet disbelief. “You’re standing there, naked, laughing at me, and you think I’m the ridiculous one?”
You stepped closer, still grinning as you leaned into him, your hands resting on his shoulders. “Yup,” you said simply, popping the p.
Kyle’s hands found your waist instinctively, his touch grounding you as he tilted his head, raising an eyebrow. “You say that like you’ve got me all figured out,” he teased, his voice soft but laced with challenge. “Think you’re pretty clever, huh?”
Your heart thudded against your ribs, the weight of his hands grounding you as a nervous, giddy energy bubbled in your chest. You slid your hands over his shoulders, leaning into him with a playful smirk. “Not as clever as you, obviously,” you quipped, the sarcasm dripping from your tone as you climbed onto his lap in one smooth motion, your thighs bracketing his hips.
Kyle scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching as if to suppress a grin. “You’ve got jokes, huh?” he said, his hands settling on your waist, squeezing just enough to make your stomach flip. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he added, “Guess I’ll have to prove you wrong.”
You hummed weakly in reply, the sound barely audible as the movement brought you closer than ever before. The heat of him pressed against your entrance was immediate and overwhelming. His cock, thick and ready, nudged against you, separated only by the thin barrier of the condom. 
Kyle’s grip on your waist tightened slightly, his brows knitting together as he drew in a shaky breath. His eyes searched yours, a mix of anticipation and disbelief flickering in the green depths. “You okay?” he asked softly, though his hands trembled faintly where they held you.
You nodded, the flush on your cheeks deepening as you bit your lip to stifle another whimper. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice unsteady. “I just…” You trailed off, your chest rising and falling as the heat pooling in your stomach grew unbearable.
Your arms wrapped around his neck, your fingers threading into the soft curls at the nape of his neck as you leaned in closer. His breath ghosted over your lips, and the need to kiss him, to feel the softness of his lips against yours again, was overwhelming.
Kyle’s eyes flicked between yours, his gaze dipping briefly to your lips before returning to your face. “You’re staring,” he murmured.
“So are you,” you shot back, the playful edge in your voice faltering as your hips shifted instinctively, the friction between you sending a jolt of heat through your core.
He exhaled sharply, his hands sliding up your back, pulling you closer as his lips brushed yours in the faintest tease of a kiss. “Can you blame me?” he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You couldn’t hold back anymore. Closing the small gap between you, you pressed your lips to his in a kiss that was insistent, your fingers curling tighter into his hair as you melted into him. His lips parted against yours, and the warmth of his mouth sent a fresh wave of heat coursing through you.
Kyle broke apart from the kiss and shifted, guiding you carefully toward the center of the bed. The pillows cushioned your back as he hovered over you, the mattress dipping under his weight. One hand braced beside your head, his other resting on your hip, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the moment.
He paused, his eyes sweeping over your face, a poorly concerned smirk dawned on his face.
“What?” you asked, your voice quiet but edged with curiosity, your fingers brushing lightly against the curls falling over his forehead.
Kyle tilted his head slightly, his gaze holding yours as if he was savoring the moment. “I was just thinking,” he said, his tone  teasing, “this is a long way from ‘just one kiss for practice.’”
Your stomach flipped at the reminder, your cheeks immediately heating. “Are you seriously bringing that up right now?” you asked, though the slight crack in your voice betrayed your embarrassment.
“Why not?” His smirk deepened, his thumb brushing slow circles into your hip. “It’s where this all started, isn’t it? You were the one who wanted my help, remember?”
You groaned softly, covering your face with your hands for a moment before looking back at him. “God, you’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”
Kyle laughed, tas he leaned closer. “You were so flustered back then,” he murmured, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Practically jumped out of your skin every time I got close.”
“That was your fault,” you shot back, your fingers tightening on his shoulders. “You didn’t have to make it so… intense.”
“Intense?” He raised an eyebrow, his smirk softening into something closer to a grin. “I was holding back.”
You let out a short, breathy laugh, your chest brushing against his as you moved beneath him. “Yeah, well, you’re not exactly holding back now.”
Kyle’s eyes gleamed, his grip on your hip tightening slightly as he leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “No,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m not.”
The words sent a shiver racing through you, and your hands slid up to cradle his face, pulling him back toward you. “Kyle,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly as your lips hovered just a breath away from his.
His eyes softened, heavy-lidded as they locked onto yours. “Yeah?” he murmured, his voice low, but the look on his face carried more than just desire—it was care, reassurance, and a question all at once.
The weight of him against you was grounding, his cock pressing against your entrance sending a pulse of heat through your body. But the texture of the condom felt strange against your slick skin, a reminder of the uncharted territory you were about to cross. Your fingers slid down to his shoulders, gripping tightly as your breath caught in your throat.
“Will it hurt?” you asked quietly, as you tilted your head slightly, unable to meet his gaze for a moment.
Kyle paused, his expression softened further, the tension in his body easing as he leaned closer. His forehead rested gently against yours, and his breath was warm as he spoke, his voice quiet and reassuring. “Maybe at first,” he admitted, his tone careful. “But I’ll go slow. You’ll tell me how it feels, yeah?”
The care in his words made something in your chest loosen, and you nodded slowly, your fingers tightening against his shoulders. “Okay,” you whispered meekly.
Kyle pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering for a moment before he tilted his head to catch your lips. The kiss was a silent promise he didn’t need to put into words. His hand moved from your cheek, sliding to your waist, holding you steady as he began to press his hips forward slightly.
The initial stretch made your breath stutter, your body instinctively tensing. Your grip on his shoulders tightened, your nails pressing into his skin as you squeezed one eye shut, letting out a small, strained sound.
Kyle froze immediately, his forehead falling to your shoulder as his breath came out in a sharp exhale. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, his hands tightening their hold on you. “You’re… fuck, you’re tight.”
The rough edge in his voice sent a jolt of raw arousal straight to your core, and though the stretch was uncomfortable, the way he reacted made you crave more. You shifted slightly beneath him, adjusting to the pressure, biting your lip to muffle a needy sound as the movement made him sink just a little deeper.
His hand slid up to your side, his thumb brushing over your ribs in slow, soothing circles. “You good?” he asked softly, though his voice was strained, his breathing uneven as he fought to stay still.
You nodded, your hands still gripping his shoulders tightly as you whispered, “Yeah. Just… keep going.”
Kyle let out another quiet curse, his lips brushing against your neck as he pulled back just slightly, giving you time to adjust before pressing forward again, his movements slow and careful. The stretch eased little by little, replaced by a growing heat that made your body arch against him, your breaths coming in shallow, trembling gasps.
“Good,” he murmured against your skin, his voice low and hoarse. “You’re doing so good.”
The praise ignited a flicker of pride through the haze of overwhelming sensation. You wrapped your legs tighter around his waist, pulling him closer as you gasped softly, your body adjusting to the impossible fullness. Your nails bit into his shoulders, grounding you as you fought the urge to squirm.
A low groan rumbled from Kyle’s throat, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck. He stayed still, not thrusting yet, his cock buried deep inside you. The stretch was too much and exactly what you needed all at once, and your breaths came in uneven bursts.
“You’re tight as hell,” he rasped, his voice breaking on the words. A low chuckle followed, shaky but warm. “It’s fucking unreal.”
His mouth moved lower, his lips leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Each press of his lips sent shivers racing through you, your body responding to every small movement he made. He dipped his head further, his breath hot against your chest before his mouth closed around one of your nipples.
“Fuck—Kyle,” you gasped, your back arching instinctively as his tongue flicked over the sensitive peak. He sucked gently, his hand sliding up to cup the other breast, his thumb brushing circles over the hardened bud.
“You’re perfect,” he murmured between kisses, his words muffled but fervent. “Fucking perfect everywhere.”
A deep ache settled in your pussy, your walls gripping him tight where he stretched you. The pressure was maddening, and every shift sent a pulse straight to your clit. His lips on your chest only added to the tension, making your hips twitch as you craved more. He hadn’t even moved yet, and you were already on edge, desperate for relief.
“Kyle,” you whimpered, your fingers tangling in his hair as you tried to ground yourself. 
He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes heavy-lidded and dark, the pupils blown wide with lust. The intensity in his gaze was enough to make your stomach flip. “You’ve got no idea what you’re doing to me right now,” his voice rough. His hands slid to your waist, gripping you firmly as he willed himself to not move.
Your chest heaved as you squirmed beneath him, the pressure building with every second he stayed buried inside you. “Please,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your hands slid down to his shoulders. “Move.”
He exhaled shakily, his forehead pressing against yours as he murmured, “You sure?”
You nodded, your thighs tightening around his waist as you whispered, “I need it. I need you.”
Kyle groaned again, as he pulled back just enough for you to feel the slow drag of his cock against your walls. The stretch sent a sharp wave of sensation through you, your head falling back as your mouth opened in a breathless gasp.
Each thrust was deliberate, his movements measured as though he was testing how much you could take. The sensation built with every inch of him, the overwhelming fullness making your body feel alive in ways you’d never experienced. Your hands clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as soft, shaky whimpers escaped your lips.
“Kyle,” your voice trembling as his hips moved against yours, his cock pressing into you with every slow  thrust. “I can’t… it’s so much.”
“I know,” he rasped, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve got you. Just feel me.”
You did. Every inch of him, every press of his hips, every brush of his lips against your skin—it was all-consuming. Your body shaked beneath him, your breaths coming in short, uneven bursts as the pleasure built steadily.
His hand slid between your bodies, his thumb brushing over your clit in slow, teasing circles. The added sensation made your back arch, a choked whimper escaping your lips as you clung to him.
“Fuck,” he muttered, his voice low and breathless. “You’re so damn beautiful like this.”
You turned your head slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw as you murmured, “Kiss me.”
Kyle didn’t hesitate, capturing your lips in a kiss that matched the steady rhythm of his thrusts. His tongue brushed against yours, the kiss deep and intimate, leaving you breathless.
When he pulled back, his gaze locked onto yours, his eyes dark and piercing, sending a shiver down your spine. “Tell me how it feels,” he murmured.
Your cheeks burned as you stammered, “It feels… it feels like you’re everywhere.”
A small smile tugged at his lips, and he leaned in to kiss you again, his pace never faltering. His hand stayed between your thighs, his thumb keeping up its maddening rhythm as his hips moved against yours.
The pleasure built steadily, every movement bringing you closer to the edge, but Kyle didn’t rush. His focus remained on you, his hands and lips and body working in perfect harmony to keep you teetering on the brink.
“Kyle,” you gasped, your voice trembling as you felt the tension coiling tighter in your stomach. “I can’t… I’m so close.”
He groaned softly, his lips brushing against your temple as he whispered, “Not yet, baby. Hold on for me. I want to feel you fall apart.”
The words sent a shiver racing through you, and you clung to him tighter, your body trembling as you fought to keep yourself together. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breaths, the quiet creak of the mattress, and the faint, wet sounds of his cock sliding into you, driving you both closer to the edge with every deliberate thrust.
Kyle’s lips found yours again, capturing your gasp as his hips stilled momentarily, keeping you on the edge of release but not letting you tip over just yet. “Not yet,” he repeated softly, his voice a gentle command that made your chest tighten and your walls clench around him.
Your walls tightened instinctively around him, and his breath hitched against your mouth, his eyes falling shut for a brief moment as if the feeling was almost too much. The corner of your mouth curved into a small smile, your fingers threading through his messy curls as you tilted your head to study him.
There was something endearing about the way Kyle managed to be so restrained even now, his touch careful despite the want thrumming between you. It was a stark contrast to how you’d seen him act when he argued with Cartman—sharp, aggressive, and unrelenting. Here, though, his intensity was softer, quieter, and it filled you with a warmth that made your chest ache.
You tilted your head further, your eyes catching on the way his freckles were dusted across his flushed skin. “You’re cute when you’re bossy,” you murmured teasingly, your tone light despite the heat blooming between you.
Kyle opened his eyes at that, a faint flush crept up his neck, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, his hands smoothed over your sides, grounding you in his touch. “You think so?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with.amusement.
Before you could answer, your attention flicked to the faint sound of movement from downstairs—Stan’s laughter, Cartman’s loud complaints, and Kenny’s muffled response. Your face burned, and you bit your lip, turning your head slightly toward the door.
Kyle noticed the shift immediately, his hands pausing on your waist. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his tone soft but cautious.
“They’ll hear us.” you whispered, your voice barely audible. 
Kyle let out a quiet laugh, his lips brushing against your temple. “They’re not listening, trust me.”
You glanced at him, your face heating at how nonchalant he seemed about the possibility. “You don’t care?”
“I care about you,” he said simply, his gaze meeting yours with a sincerity that made your breath catch. “That’s all.”
His words sent a fresh wave of warmth through you, but the ease he exuded only made you acutely aware of everything—the wet, sticky sound of him buried inside you, the quiet creak of the mattress, the way his hands lingered on your bare skin. Your breaths mingled in the air between you, your legs tightening around his waist as you arched into him, desperate for him to continue.
Kyle moaned low in his throat,  as if your eagerness had undone whatever control he had left. His movements grew erratic, his hips losing rhythm as the tension between you both coiled tighter and tighter. His breaths were uneven, fanning hot against your neck, where his lips grazed your skin in a way that sent shivers down your spine.
His hands slid upward, fingers searching for yours until they intertwined. He squeezed them tightly, as his lips returned to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin before he bit down gently, his tongue soothing the faint sting.
“God,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You’re perfect. Do you feel that? Do you feel how good this is?”
Your lungs stuttered for air, the knot in your stomach winding tighter as his words sent a jolt straight to your core. The ache of his cock pounding you, the weight of his body pinning you down, and the heat radiating between you—it was overwhelming. “Kyle,” you gasped, your voice breaking as your head fell back, exposing the curve of your neck to him like an offering.
His teeth dragged along the curve of your shoulder, his lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to your skin in a rhythm that matched his increasingly desperate thrusts. He groaned against you, the sound deep and guttural, as he felt you clench around him.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” he murmured, his tone softer now but still tinged with urgency.
You nodded, the movement jerky as your thighs pressed firmly against his hips, your nails digging into his hands. “I can’t,” you choked out, your voice breaking.
“You can,” Kyle whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. His voice was steady, reassuring, even as his own breaths came in short, ragged bursts. “Let go. I’m right here.”
The gravelly edge in his voice pushed you past the breaking point, your back arching as a raw, unrestrained cry escaped your lips. Your walls fluttered and gripped him tightly, your entire body shaking as the release consumed you. The intensity crashed over you in relentless waves, leaving you clutching at him desperately, your breaths shallow and broken as you rode out the bliss.
Kyle moaned, the sound muffled against your neck as he buried himself deep inside you. His fingers squeezed yours tightly, his hips faltering as his release followed yours, filling the condom as his body shuddered against yours. His teeth grazed your shoulder again, followed by soft, lingering kisses as he tried to catch his breath.
For a moment, neither of you moved, the room filled with the sound of your shared, uneven breathing. Kyle’s forehead rested against your shoulder, his fingers still tangled with yours. The weight of Kyle’s body pressed against yours, warm and grounding, his breath hot and uneven against your neck. His curls tickled your cheek, damp with sweat, and the faint scent of him—soap and salt and something wholly Kyle—filled the air between you.
You blinked at the ceiling, your vision blurry and unfocused, your chest heaving as you tried to process everything. The warm, sticky press of the condom against your walls reminded you of just how close you’d been, how real this was.
Kyle didn’t move, his body heavy and relaxed atop yours, his face still buried in the crook of your neck. His fingers twitched against yours, the faintest squeeze, as though he was reassuring himself you were still there.
Your lips parted, but no words came. What could you even say? The knot in your stomach hadn’t fully untangled, and your mind felt like static, replaying moments of his lips on your skin, the way he had moaned your name like it meant something sacred.
Kyle shifted slightly, his weight pressing more firmly into you before he seemed to catch himself. His head lifted just enough that his nose brushed your temple, and his voice came, low and hoarse. “Are you okay?”
His question was soft, almost hesitant, but there was no mistaking the concern in it. You nodded faintly, your fingers tightening around his. “Yeah,” you whispered.
Kyle’s  eyes softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. He pressed a kiss to your temple, lingering there for a moment before shifting his weight onto his forearms to ease the pressure on you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”
You shook your head quickly, your cheeks heating. “No,” you said quietly, glancing away. “Not at all.”
His lips lifted into a small, almost shy smile, and he tilted his head, studying your face. “Good,” he murmured. His hand disentangled from yours to brush a strand of hair from your forehead, his touch tender.
You squirmed slightly beneath him, your body still sensitive, the lingering fullness of him inside you making your stomach flip. Your mind reeled, looping the same realization over and over again: Kyle Broflovski is your boyfriend. You just had sex. You just had sex with your childhood best friend.
The thought was dizzying, almost surreal, and the weight of it had your cheeks burning. You tried to shift your gaze away from him, hoping to clear your head, but Kyle caught the movement, his brows furrowing slightly.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” he asked softly, his voice tinged with curiosity and concern.
You swallowed hard, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread down your neck. “I… I just…” You paused, your hands nervously smoothing over his shoulders before dropping to the sheets. “I’m trying to wrap my head around this.”
Kyle tilted his head, his green eyes searching yours. “Wrap your head around what?”
“That this happened,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as your eyes flickered back to him. “That we happened. That you’re…” You trailed off, the words catching in your throat.
“That I’m your boyfriend?” he finished, his lips quirking into a soft smile.
You nodded quickly, your heart pounding as his words echoed in your mind. Boyfriend. Kyle Broflovski is your boyfriend.
Kyle’s smile widened slightly, and he leaned down, his curls brushing against your cheek as he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. “It’s not that weird, is it?” he teased gently, though there was a faint nervousness in his voice.
“It’s insane,” you blurted, your words rushing out before you could stop them. You quickly shook your head, your hands flying up to cover your face. “No, wait, I didn’t mean it like that—”
Kyle chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he shifted to nuzzle into the crook of your neck. “Relax,” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. “I know what you mean.”
You peeked at him through your fingers, your face still burning. “Do you?”
“Yeah,” he said simply. “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around it too. This is… it’s a lot. But it’s good. Right?”
His question hung in the air, and a lump rose in your throat as you thought about it. It was a lot—more than you’d ever expected or imagined—but as you looked at him, the way his green eyes softened when he met your gaze, the way his touch grounded you, you realized there was no hesitation in your answer.
“It’s good,” you whispered, your voice steadying as you spoke. “It’s really good.”
Kyle’s shoulders relaxed slightly, and he let out a soft breath, almost as if he’d been holding it. His hands cupped your face gently, his thumbs tracing soothing patterns on your cheeks. When he leaned down to kiss you, his lips were soft and unhurried, moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache. It wasn’t rushed or demanding—every brush of his lips spoke of care, of longing, and of a quiet vulnerability that words could never convey.
As he pulled back, his gaze softened, and he shifted slightly as if to pull out of you. But before he could move far, you tightened your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. “Can we just… stay like this for a while?” your voice barely audible, your cheeks warming as you avoided his eyes.
Kyle’s eyes flicked to yours, surprise flashing across his face before it melted into something gentler. He exhaled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing. “Yeah,” he said simply. Slowly, he leaned forward, his forehead brushing against your shoulder before he let himself rest against you, his breath warm against the curve of your neck. “We can stay.”
A sense of calm settled over you, like the weight of the moment had finally lifted. His presence beside you felt steady and familiar, the quiet filling the space with an ease you hadn’t realized you needed. The gentle sound of his breathing created a soothing rhythm, anchoring you in the here and now.
Time seemed to stretch, the two of you existing in a bubble of shared warmth and quiet understanding. But the peace was short-lived.
Heavy footsteps echoed up the stairs, the unmistakable sound of someone stomping on purpose—a Cartman classic. Your stomach dropped, panic flashing through you as you remembered where you were.
Cartman’s house.
You barely had time to process the thought before it hit.
A loud, exaggerated moan pierced through the silence, high-pitched and theatrical. “Oh, Kyle!” came Kenny’s voice, dragging out the name in a dramatic, singsong wail that reverberated through the house.
Your body went rigid, your face heating instantly as you clamped your hands over your mouth to stifle a groan of embarrassment.
It didn’t stop there.
“God, you’re so—ah! Fuck, baby!” Cartman’s voice followed, mimicking Kyle with mock desperation and over-the-top grunts that had you wishing the floor would swallow you whole.
Slapping noises echoed next, likely Kenny or Stan clapping their hands together to make it worse. “Do you like that, [Y/N]? Huh?!” Cartman cackled, his voice devolving into laughter that was quickly joined by the others.
Kyle froze, his head lifting from your neck as his entire body tensed. His face flushed bright red, a mix of mortification and anger flashing in his eyes as he muttered, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“Oh my God,” you whispered, your voice muffled by your hands.
Kenny’s voice came again, high and mocking. “Don’t stop, Kyle! You’re so amazing—fuck, I’m cumming!”
The wheezing cackle that followed could only be Stan, his laughter so loud and uncontrolled that it shook the walls.
Kyle sat up slightly, his jaw tightening as he glared toward the door. “They’re dead,” he muttered under his breath. “I’m going to kill them.”
You quickly grabbed his wrist, your legs clamping around him as you hissed, “Kyle, don’t! You’ll just make it worse!”
“How could it possibly get worse?” Kyle snapped, his voice low but edged with frustration.
As if on cue, Cartman’s voice boomed through the house again. “Oh, [Y/N],” he mocked in an exaggerated falsetto. “We’ll figure it out together, baby. I promise.”
Your hands flew up to cover your face again, a groan of sheer humiliation escaping your lips as Cartman and Kenny’s laughter rang out.
“They’re such assholes,” you muttered, your voice muffled.
Kyle didn’t respond immediately. His jaw was set, his green eyes burning with frustration as he shifted slightly, clearly torn between staying and storming out to confront them.
“Kyle, please,” you begged, tugging lightly at his wrist. “Don’t. Just ignore them. They’re being stupid.”
Kyle exhaled sharply, his hands running through his messy curls as he muttered, “They’re always stupid.”
Another loud, exaggerated moan echoed, followed by Kenny’s voice shouting, “Oh my God, Kyle, don’t stop!”
Kyle buried his face in his hands, letting out a groan of frustration. “I hate them,” he muttered. “I seriously hate them.”
Despite your mortification, a small, nervous laugh bubbled out of you. “You’re not the only one,” you said, your voice still shaky.
Kyle glanced at you, his lips twitching despite himself. “You’re laughing?”
“What else am I supposed to do?” you shot back, your face still red as you tried to smother another laugh. “You had to know this was coming.”
Kyle groaned again, but this time it was tinged with reluctant amusement. He shook his head, leaning back down to rest his forehead against yours. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered.
You smiled faintly, your fingers brushing through his damp curls as you whispered, “Yeah. I guess I am.”
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this was super fun to write hehe | part one
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toomuchracket · 1 year ago
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and this is how it starts (flatmate!matty x reader smut)
this is quite literally day 1 of the relationship. like, condom-gate was mere hours ago lmao. also, someone said just thinking about flatmate matty and girlie literally just after condom gate and they're sitting on the couch and she's just kissing his neck and making out and he gets all flustered n floaty cos he's waited for this for so long 😕 maybe she teases him for getting hard so quickly and it's just sweet, i love them <3 so it's a bit of that too. enjoy <3
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matty's not totally sold on the idea of there being a heaven, but his reasoning against it is weakening with every passing second. after all, what else could the situation he's in right now be, sprawled on the living room sofa with you on his lap and your lips connected? there's no other way of describing it.
he doesn't give a shit about description right now, though. or responsibility, or even time itself. all matty cares about is kissing you, softly moving his hands to rest in previously uncharted places on your body, and getting you to make those little whimpers that draw all the blood from his brain and redirect it to his dick. your hands weave into each other's hair, and an instinctive tug from matty has you pulling back and whining his name. he goes to pout at the removal of your lips from his own, but then you grind down harder onto him and drop your head into the crook of his neck; your lips meet the soft skin of matty's neck, and he can't stop the gasp that rips from his throat (or the hardening in his sweatpants).
holy fuck. in the many (many) dreams matty’s had about your lips, not once has he ever dreamt about them in this location. 
what a twat he is.
another choked noise leaves his mouth as your tongue joins the party, and yet another follows when you moan into his skin at the way he clutches desperately at your hips. before he knows it, you're kissing him again, licking into his mouth with such intensity he's half-convinced you're trying to eat him. and he'd let you - his brain and heart have already been consumed by you, after all. why not let you devour him completely?
your teeth sink into matty's lower lip as if you might, and he whines; you giggle against him, and switch your lips back to his neck before repeating the bite, albeit softer on the delicate skin, pulling another wanton moan from him. the pain turns to pleasure in his nerves and ricochets throughout his body so hard that he feels his dick jump, despite the haze of pleasure clouding his senses and brain capacity.
judging by the way you gasp and grind down impossibly further onto your boyfriend, you feel it too. he's aware of your lips peeling from him, and then suddenly your beautiful face appears in his eyeline - your eyes and hair are wild, your lips are swollen from, well, use, and you've never looked more enticing than now. then you smile, and matty has to retract his previous statement. “i didn't know you were so into neck kissing, matthew.”
he's not sure if it's the use of his full name (chiding, teasing, patronising) or the glint in your eye (seldom seen, slightly manic, so fucking flirty) that does it, but matty feels his cheeks flood with colour and heat. you lightly run your thumb across one with a satisfied hum, and matty momentarily forgets how to breathe; when the palm of your hand brushes his throat on its way down to rest on his chest, he almost shuts down completely. but he quickly recovers enough to speak shyly. “isn’t everyone?”
“yeah, but, baby,” you roll your hips slowly against his, groaning quietly as you do, and whisper directly in his ear. “it just got you so fucking hard.”
christ.
matty says as much as he throws his head back against the sofa, and you giggle. he cracks one eye open to look at you, all happiness-glowy and dishevelled in his t-shirt, and he can't help but smile bashfully. “don’t take the piss, sweetheart.”
“i'm not!” you laugh, then smirk. “well, maybe a little bit.”
“fucking knew it,” matty lightly smacks your ass, grabbing the soft flesh and using it as leverage to rock your hips against his. “mocking me for a normal reaction to a kiss in an erogenous zone, you minx.”
“ooh, big word.”
“i’ll smack you again, i mean it.”
“do your worst,” you grin, circling your hips. “although i'll be surprised if you can focus with that - oh, fuck,” your voice trails off into a moan as matty grins and latches his lips onto your neck, sucking a bruise into the lightly-perfumed skin and soothing it with his tongue.
he smirks as he pulls back to admire his work; for all he's dreamed about marking you up as his like this, nothing comes even remotely close to the real thing. “seems to me like someone can't take it as well as she can give it,” matty coos, cupping your jaw and running his thumb over your pouty lips. “that right, baby?”
without breaking eye contact, you flick your tongue against the pad of his thumb - when you hear matty's breath hitch, you slowly slide your lips onto the digit, down to the knuckle, tongue still flicking around it. he swears under his breath, dick harder than he thinks it's ever been, other hand clutching so hard at your ass that he wouldn't be surprised if it bruised. somewhere deep in matty’s mind, there's a little part of him wracked with guilt at the thought of hurting you, sweet, beautiful you, but that part is far overshadowed by just how badly he wants to be inside you right now.
thankfully, you seem to want that too; you release his thumb with a pop and a connecting string of spit, and look doe-eyed at him. he’s not sure if he's ever seen anything so erotic on his life.“no. i can take it, matty.”
something shifts in the air when you say that - it's as if the molecules have gotten heavier, dropping a delicious tension into the atmosphere and knocking all flirty banter to the ground. you're so close he can see himself reflected amidst the desire in your eyes. so close that your breath mingles with his own, hot in the crisp autumn air. so close, and, for the first time, so available for him to touch.
and, god, does he want to touch you.
“you can take it?” matty asks, caressing your cheek and smiling when you nod. “now?”
“please.”
matty groans. “you'll kill me, sweetheart,” he quickly kisses you, smiling into your lips when you moan. “let me take you to bed and you can show me how well you take it, yeah?”
you pout. “wanna stay here.”
“so do i. but we need to go and get a condom, darlin.”
“don't worry,” you lean back slightly and pull the t-shirt over your head in a way matty can only liken to unwrapping a present; he swears when he sees the lacy black bra you're wearing, your tits threatening to spill over its scalloped trim. when you see him looking at your chest, you grin. “like my bra?”
“very much.”
“good. been saving it for you - you know, in case we ever… got to this stage in our relationship.”
matty blinks as the realisation settles in his mind and body. he's so turned on it's almost painful. “really? fuck, baby, that's so hot.”
you shrug bashfully. “got a whole drawer full of pretty underwear i only want you to see. been thinking about this for a while. which reminds me,” you reach into your bra and pull out a small foil square, and hold it up triumphantly. “no need to go to bed!”
matty laughs slightly deliriously. “you had a condom down your bra the whole time? fuck, you really want me, don't you?”
“on this couch, specifically,” you lean in to softly kiss his neck again, then drag your tongue up to whisper in his ear. “dreamt about riding you on it since the day i moved in.”
shit.
his hips buck up at the mere thought, eliciting whines from both of you. “wanna make your dream come true - need it, darlin, need you.”
“fuck,” your hands scramble to pull matty's t-shirt over his head, then pull his face to your own for a searing kiss. it doesn't last long, though, with you soon pulling back to guide matty's hands to the clasp of your bra; he catches on to your ideas quickly, undoing the thing with ease and sliding the bra from your body, while you clumsily balance on one knee at a time to get your panties off. matty huffs out a laugh when you roll your eyes and leave the underwear to dangle on your left calf, and you smile and wrap your arms around his neck. “what?”
“nothing, you're just cute - sit up for me, darlin, so i can lift my hips, thanks,” he replies, shimmying his sweatpants down with a shit-eating grin. “so impatient to fuck me that you can't even properly take your underwear off.”
you raise your eyebrows and tear the condom packet open with your teeth. matty feels his eyes roll back into his head when you finally touch him, pumping his dick three times before rolling the condom onto him - you hum happily at the weight of him in your soft hand. “i don't think i'm the impatient one here, babe.”
you're not wrong. still, disagreeing gives him a perfect excuse to rile you up with a touch, too. “no?” matty tilts his head, sliding a hand across your thigh and between your legs; before you can react, he slides a finger along your slit, catching the sticky arousal and dipping into your dripping cunt. your reaction - a shaky whimper - is incredible, almost as incredible as matty's realisation that it’s him who got you into this state. “oh, baby.”
he smiles when you whine his name, but it drops in favour of a gasp when you replace his finger in your folds with the head of his dick. without breaking eye contact, you gasp too. “matty, can i…?”
“please, angel,” matty moans, hands trailing up to squeeze your tits before returning home to your hips. “put me inside.”
“okay,” you all but whisper. a beautiful smile crosses your face, the sun breaking through clouds. “i love you.”
the way you say that, so giddy… matty thinks his heart could honestly burst. he gently cups your jaw with both hands. “i love you too.”
you giggle, and matty feels your cheeks heat up. “i'm glad i get to love you openly now.”
“me too, darlin,” matty kisses you slowly, passionately, but so sweetly; he wants you to be able to feel how much he loves you through his lips. he pulls back just enough to speak clearly, foreheads still touching. “wanna be even closer to you.”
“hold my hips, then, please,” you murmur against him, smiling and kissing him again when he obliges. shuffling around on your knees for a second, you line matty up with yourself, and slowly begin to sink down onto him. the feeling is mind-blowing for both of you, it seems - matty makes a choked groan at how tight you are, and you whimper as he stretches you further with every bit of him you slowly take. “matty.”
he responds with a moan of your name, rubbing soothing circles into your hips while you take him to the hilt with a series of dazed blinks. despite the pleasure already clouding his brain, matty touches your face in concern. “you feeling alright, darlin?”
“yeah. just full.”
“need a second?”
you nod. “sorry, baby.”
“no, not at all. feels amazing like this, anyway,” he strokes your cheek, relishing the way you melt into his touch. “knew you'd look fucking gorgeous on top.”
at that, you clench around him - he's not even sure you're aware of it, but he has to focus very hard on keeping himself from moving inside you - and speak again. “have you thought about this a lot?”
matty nods, trailing his hand down to your chest. “oh yeah.”
“so have i,” you smile, humming contentedly when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger - when he leans forward to take the bud into his mouth, you whine. “fuck, can i move now?”
“yeah,” matty moans around your tit, before pulling away and leaning back against the sofa. “ride me, angel.”
the sentence hasn't even fully left his mouth before you're obliging; the words trail into a raspy groan as you slowly pull yourself up and sink back down. his eyes want to close from the overwhelming pleasure of you fucking him, but he keeps them open because the sight of you like this is too incredible to miss even a second of. matty has no idea how many times he's dreamt of you doing exactly this to him, alone in his bedroom or hotel or tour bus bathroom, but every single fantasy pales in comparison to the real thing. after all, he couldn't have imagined the way your jaw trembles and your eyelids flutter every time he bottoms out inside you, sending an accomplishment high through his body that makes him feel better than any substance he's ever tried.
he has imagined the way your tits would bounce as you speed up your own bouncing on him. again, though, reality is so much better - not once in his dreams did you whine a plea while he tentatively touched them, or cry his name and clench around him in response to him pinching your nipples. the slight pain spurs you on, makes your hips move faster and wilder and matty's contract in pleasure, and he makes a mental note to remember the effect it has on you for future reference. 
like he'd ever forget any of this. matty’s never felt so good in his fucking life.
when he tells you as much, you beam, and speed up yet again. oh. matty smirks as best he can through the intense pleasure. “you like it when i tell you how good you are, darlin?”
“mhmm,” you nod shyly, adorably incongruous with the way you're slamming your hips down to meet matty's. “wanna be perfect for you.”
fuck. “you are, sweetheart. my perfect girl,” matty sits up to kiss you, and you whimper into his mouth at the slight change in angle of him inside you. he smiles, switching his lips to your neck. “what else do you want, gorgeous?”
“want - oh, fuck - want you to touch me,” before matty even has the chance to respond, you suck his right thumb into your mouth again and lead it to your clit. “wanna cum.”
and who the fuck is he to deny you what you want, especially after seven years of also wanting to make you do just that?
“alright, darlin,” matty smiles, jaw dropping at the way you tighten impossibly further around him as he starts working little circles into your clit. “shit, that feels good.”
“yeah?”
he nods. “keep going, angel. actually, just use me to get yourself off. whatever you need to do.”
your eyes widen. “really?”
“really. wanna see you cum for me,” matty lightly bites the inside of your tit. “used to make myself cum thinking about you falling apart on top of me like this.”
a glint of something flickers in your eyes, something matty can't quite name. “so, if i cum,” you breathily begin, still rocking your hips. “you'll cum too?”
“pretty much, yeah.”
you smirk. “alright.”
with that, you brace your arms behind you on matty's thighs, using them as leverage to fuck him as hard as you possibly can. he gasps, nerves beginning to tingle with the orgasm he's been both holding off and craving for a while now, climax creeping closer with every bounce of your hips and tits; he's mesmerised by you, your beautiful body practically shaking above him as you ride your way to ecstasy, and whines of his name and various swear words and “don't stop touching me, please” pouring from your perfect lips.
matty does as he's told, thumb staying put on the bundle of nerves between your thighs. remembering his mental note from earlier, he brings his free hand down on your ass and kisses away the cry you let out on impact. “come on, sweetheart,” he coos against your mouth. “give in. cum for me, my love, let go for me. make me feel good.”
he leans back to look at you - you look utterly fucked, eyes heavy and teary, jaw slack and lips swollen, but you're so beautiful. when you look at him (probably just as fucked-looking, to be honest), you smile sweetly, but it soon drops off your face as you rush ever closer to the precipice of orgasm. “matty,” you whimper, voice cracking from overuse. “i'm gonna cum.”
no four words have ever sounded better to him. matty holds your face with his free hand; you nuzzle into it, and a wave of love washes over him. “do it, angel.”
your head drops onto his shoulder as your hips fall out of rhythm, and you cry into his neck as your body jerks in ecstasy. matty cries, grabbing your ass and leaning back so he can fuck up into your pulsing cunt as his own orgasm hits. he holds you flush against him as he cums into the condom, then lets you gently flop down as you both recover with panting breaths.
matty's so hazy from pleasure that it takes him a minute to register the chaste kisses you're planting on his neck - you lift your head when he giggles breathily, smiling so widely he's sure your face must hurt. “hi matty.”
“hi, baby,” he kisses your nose. “i love you.”
“love you too,” you give him a little smooch. “loved that.”
“fuck, so did i,” matty sighs, grinning at you. “you're really fucking good at that.”
“only cos it's you i was fucking,” you giggle. “my need to make you feel good outweighed the burning in my thighs. would've tapped out, otherwise.”
matty rubs the offending body part. “will you let me take care of you in return, then? after you've endured the pain and climbed off me so i can get rid of the condom, that is.”
you nod, hissing as you pull yourself off matty's dick and flop onto the couch beside him. he kisses you quickly before he stands, slightly shakily, and removes and ties off the condom; you protest when he places it on the coffee table. “matthew!”
“what? i put it on a coaster. and i'm not leaving it there!”
“still! i don't want used condoms on my good coffee table, even if it's us that's used them,” you stare at him for a second, and then collapse into giggles. “new flat rule?”
matty cackles. “all condoms put in the bin immediately after use. right, hold it for a second, then - and don't give me that face, it was inside you!” he sighs as he bends down and scoops you - holding the condom between your thumb and index finger, mildly disgusted - up bridal-style into his arms. your face softens when he kisses your head as he carries you down the hall. “fancy a bath? it'll help your legs.”
“only if you come in with me.”
he hums, nudging the bathroom door open and setting you down on your shaky legs; you chuck the condom in the bin. “i like the sound of that.”
“good,” you lean up to kiss him. “now please leave the room.”
“what? why?”
“because,” you say, turning the bath's hot tap on. “i need to piss. in peace.”
matty pouts overdramatically. “but i don't want to leave you.”
“out, healy,” you point at the door as matty giggles; you kiss his cheek as he leaves, though. “bring a bottle of wine in when you come back?”
“glasses, too? or just share the bottle?”
you scoff. “you were just inside me, and now you're worried i have germs?”
he laughs. “i love you.”
“i love you, too.”
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whatitshouldvebeen · 9 months ago
Note
I just know for a fact Johnny would grab handfuls of his girlfriends ass while she was doing something important like cooking, or putting in a load of laundry, and he’d have to audacity to tell her to fix his boner even though he brought it upon himself 😭
(Also take your time, Ik you have a ton of requests, I don’t want you to feel rushed 😭)
Choke On It
Warnings: choking on dick, MINORS DNI
Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Reader
Word count: 700
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You were deeply focused on segmenting a leg of meat when Johnny's sudden presence startled you, his hands grabbing hold of your ass, nearly causing you to cut yourself in the process.
“What the hell, Johnny?!” you yelped, slamming your knife onto the cutting board and spinning around to glare at him. His cut-off T-shirt was drenched in sweat, and the scent of motor oil and grease clung to him, his brown eyes assessing you from behind dark, sweaty bangs.
Your boyfriend smirked, gesturing towards his crotch where he harbored a sizable erection. “I've got somethin' more important for ya to do with your hands.”
“Can it wait? You should go shower, I'm almost done-”
“‘Fraid not, darlin’. You made this happen, you best take care of it.”
You crossed your arms. “I was only chopping meat, I didn't make anything happen!”
Johnny reached around you, gripping your ass and pulling you against his broad chest. “You can't expect a man to just watch this fine ass without getting worked up. Now take care of the problem you caused, sweet cheeks,” he said with a grin, though a hint of malice flashed in his eyes.
Reluctantly, you sighed and untied your apron, tossing it over the oven handle before turning back to your man. He raised an eyebrow and gestured to his bulge, obviously expecting you to do all the work.
You rolled your eyes, careful not to let him see, then unzipped his pants. Even though you were exasperated, you couldn't help but admire his length as you pulled it from his boxers. It twitched in your hand, thick veins pulsing under your touch.
“Get to it, darlin’, you still got a lot more work to do today,” he said, as if this was your idea. You knew better than to argue, but you squeezed his cock a little bit harder, making him hiss through his teeth. Luckily for you, he liked it when you were rough. It wasn't as if he didn't give you the same treatment.
The head of his cock was already leaking precum, and you licked it clean before kissing the tip. You pumped both hands on his length slowly, running your tongue around the head, surprised to find yourself getting excited through your irritation.
You tucked the heel of your foot under yourself, grinding against it as you took his cock between your lips. He groaned, gripping your hair in one hand and guiding you to take him deeper.
You obliged, drawing him as deep as you could manage, gagging on his length.
“There's a good girl,” he praised, tightening his grip on your hair. You grunted in response, saliva dripping from your stuffed lips, your eyes rolling as he dug in even deeper, blocking your airway entirely and holding you there. You began to choke, but he didn't relent, a low groan emanating from his tensed throat.
“Fuck yes, baby, right there,” he crooned, thrusting his hips. You were becoming lightheaded, but you didn't dare try to pull back, allowing him to use you, grinding your hips against your heel.
“Ah-” he moaned, then shot thick ropes of cum down your gaping throat. Your pussy had soaked through your panties, coating your heel in slick. You couldn't hold onto consciousness any longer, your awareness slipping away as he finally pulled his cock from you, cum bubbling up from your throat as he set your dazed head against the linoleum floor.
He then leaned over and lifted your dress, grinning as he saw the mess you'd made of yourself. Johnny dragged two fingers along the outside of your panties, bringing them to his nose, basking in the scent of your arousal. All you could do was lay there, trying to breathe through a throat full of cum.
“I'm gonna take a shower, you better have this meat done by the time I'm out, because your pussy looks like she needs my attention,” he said, then patted your head and left you dazed, a pool of cum trickling from your puffy lips.
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hypernova-writes · 3 months ago
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Kinktober Day 30
[Cockwarming - Spy]
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"Do not move, Or else I will make you get off..my needy little thing."
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"Do not move Darling..I didn't ask you to come in here to ride me..yet.."
You pouted as you sat in Spy's lap, leaning against him as the two of your were relaxing in his smoke room.
Today was a hectic day, things kept going wrong left and right and the battle today resulted in a draw.
Spy called you to his room,and you happily followed. It was rare when Spy allowed someone in his space willingly, let alone be in his lap for a hug or cuddles.
The two of you got comfortable and you had your back turned when Spy cleared his throat. You turned and saw him with his cock in his hand, he smirks at you.
"Come here. Have a seat mon amour."
You blushed and walked over to him.
"I want you to warm my cock, frankly..I'm too tired right now to move. But if you be a good girl.." he pulled you forward, making you fall into his lap.
"I'll fuck you til you can't see straight."
You nodded as you settled yourself down onto his cock. You moved around a bit, trying to get comfortable and he smacks your ass.
"I said no moving. Hurry up and get comfortable before I edge you tonight."
You didn't really want to go through Spy's edging punishment tonight, so you did your best to stay still.
You were doing good, and honestly you were getting close to falling asleep but Spy?
Oh he was playing dirty.
He keeps bucking his hips up every now and then. Smirking at you to see your reaction. And when he would make you make a noise he smirks. "Enjoying yourself?."
You pout at him, grinding your hips down, pulling a deep growl from his throat.
"You're only thin ice."
"You started it."
Spy placed his book down, and you though you won until you felt your back hit the cushions, he tied your hands up with his tie chuckling at you.
"Hm..looks like I'm going to have to punish you."
"Do me a favor mon amour. Take a deep breath and scream my fucking name."
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Only one more!!!!! 💞
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