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*this was requested by @mattsfavlesbian! HERE is the post*
Word Count: 6k (mhm yup)
Summary: In which you are Oliver’s best friend and he brings you to Gabi’s birthday. You meet Chris, and the night ends differently than you thought.
CW: 🔞Explicit Sexual Content (Smut): Dom!Chris, unprotected sex, hand job, dry humping, choking, praise kink, public sex, spit kink, if I forgot anything please let me know! If under 18, I am not responsible for the media you consume. (MDNI)
You finally step out of your car; the first thing you notice is how big the house is. The second is that you can hear loud laughter and music thumping from the backyard. There’s something calming about the sun beating down on your skin and hearing light splashes from people jumping into the pool. You pause for a second before knocking on the front door; you’re so anxious, you’ve never met this group of people before. You aren’t an influencer by any means, just a simple childhood friend who got lucky enough to be invited to the party. As soon as you knock, the door slams open, and you’re tackled in a hug by Oliver.
“[Y/N]! God, I’ve missed you.” He has the biggest smile on his face. You follow him into the living room, and it isn’t overly packed, but there are a decent number of people in it. The only two you recognize are Gabi and Josh because Oliver introduced you to them earlier, when you were visiting in LA. There are balloon displays and streamers all over the room. It’s honestly very beautiful and looks very expensive. There’s a decent playlist with all sorts of genres so everyone has something to listen to, and it reminds you of staying up late with Oliver, dancing in his bedroom.
The party is so alive, and it brings a smile to your face. As you walk into the kitchen, you see all kinds of drinks littering the counter. It ranges from alcoholic beverages to normal Coke products. You see snacks lining the counter and immediately grab a cupcake. Oliver shakes his head and smiles, “Some things never change, huh? Always did have a sweet tooth.”
“Leave me alone. This is how I make myself comfortable at an influence party.” You tease back, sticking your tongue out as you finish the cupcake. After you finish the cupcake, Oliver shows you what room you’re staying in and where to put your stuff. It’s a beautiful room with a view of the pool and cliff side. You gasp.
“I think this room costs more than my own house back home.” You say, shocked. Oliver just laughs.
“It is a nice room. Hey, when you are done, come back out to the kitchen so I can introduce you to everyone.” He says sweetly. You nod and set your stuff down.
Once you’re settled, you find your way back to the kitchen, and it takes no time for you to see him—Chris. He’s leaning against the counter, a beer in his hand, looking at Gabi and laughing loudly at something she says. Chris has this effortless cool factor about him that just captivates you. He’s got on a backward baseball cap and defined muscles. His smile is slightly crooked, but for him it works perfectly. His laugh is loud and seems contagious, and the group surrounding him laughs too. You’re looking at him, and for a brief second, you lock eyes with him. You freeze, unsure what to do, so instead of looking away, you give a small smile and a tiny wave. Just being friendly, of course.
Oliver looks over to see who you are waving at. When he sees it’s Chris, he smirks and grabs your arm. “Hey, come on. Let me introduce you to him.”
As Oliver walks you over to Chris, you see him stand a little straighter, slowly set his beer down, and fix his shirt. Oliver gives him a hug and gestures to you, “Hey man, this is my best friend from back home. [Y/N], this is Chris. Chris, this is [Y/N].”
“Hey. Nice to meet you. Oliver has talked about you a couple of times. I was wondering if you were made up since I never met you, though.” His voice is soft, but teasing. He gives you a gentle side hug and smiles. You forget to breathe for a moment, and just smile. Oliver nudges you, laughing.
“Y-yeah, nice to meet you too. Really.” You said softly.
The conversation from there is easy—you talk about favorite party games, small stories about Gabi, and concerts you’ve gone to with Oliver. Chris seems effortlessly cool, very laid-back, funny, and charming. Everything you say, he looks at you with complete focus. Like what you have to say actually matters to him. You are so drawn to him and his presence that nobody else really matters in that moment. Suddenly, somebody suggests beer pong, and Chris grins widely.
“Want to be on the winning team with me?”
“Make sure we win though, I don’t hang with losers.” You flirt lightly, laughing as he nods his head fast.
From the moment the game starts, there is just something about the chemistry between Chris and you. Chris constantly high-fives you or moves you aside by grabbing your waist. He is definitely finding small reasons to touch you, seeing how far you’ll let him. At one point, you sink the ball, and he hugs you, spinning you around, yelling, “My teammate is the fucking pro!” You spend most of the game joking and laughing as you celebrate wins and tease each other if you miss a shot. It seems like in that moment the only thing that matters is Chris.
Between rounds, Chris asks about your life—the things most people don’t care to ask while at a party. But he is different. He asks about your job, your favorite hobbies, and your favorite music. He listens with care and intent, his eyes never leaving yours. To others, that intense eye contact would seem weird, but he makes it seem normal. Okay. You find yourself sharing more about you than most new people would normally learn, stories that barely anyone knows.
As Chris leaves to get you another drink, Oliver comes over to you, smiling like he’s a mastermind. “I knew you’d like him. I told Gabi that it was going to work.”
The simple statement made you feel flattered and somewhat skeptical. But mostly happy, because Oliver is great at knowing when two people will vibe well together.
“Yeah. He’s really cool. He just…makes me feel like I’ve known him forever.” You smiled softly.
Chris comes back, and the party quickly moves inside. The music is somehow even louder than when you first got here. The birthday celebration is definitely in full swing. You look over and see Chris leaning against the wall, and you’d be lying if you said he doesn’t look good. You walk over and lean next to him on the wall as you sip your drink. Chris looks at you and smiles, “Want to go swim? It’s so loud in here, plus I love swimming at night.”
You nod and put your drink down. “I would love to. I’ll meet you outside once I’m changed.”
You walk outside and shiver, now just in your bikini, as the night air has a slight breeze. But the pool is bathed in darkness and moonlight, and the view behind it makes it absolutely beautiful. When you set your towel on a chair, you notice Chris is already in the water, smiling up at you. He looks like a little boy who’s just seen Santa. It’s cute.
“Come on, [Y/N]. The water is amazing.” He said happily, swimming around for a minute.
You smile and slip into the water, the pool’s cool temperature meets your heated skin. Goosebumps form instantly. For a while, you and Chris swim and play around, splashing each other and just making small talk. Chris suddenly disappears beneath the water. And you half expect to see him pop up in front of you, but instead, his hands wrap around your waist from behind. The touch is unexpected.
Chris leans in and whispers in your ear, “gotcha.”
You laugh and gently pull out of his grasp and go under the water yourself, swimming to the deep end. When you pop up, you look at him and smirk, “No, you don’t.”
Over time, the playfulness shifts. Something softer, more intimate. You are both leaning against the pool wall in the deep end, overlooking the beautiful view, soft whispers being exchanged while the party rages on inside the house. Chris asks everything he can think of—your dreams, best and worst dates, even tries to get a few deep secrets that you never tell anyone. That doesn’t happen, though. You do, however, find yourself getting lost in him and the conversation. Opening up in ways you didn’t think was possible with a stranger this fast. With Chris, it just feels easy, like you don’t have to be something you aren’t. He likes how authentic and personable you are.
A quiet moment settles over you two. It isn’t awkward. It’s just a lull in the conversation. There’s some kind of underlying tension, though. Chris moves closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours.
“[Y/N]?” he breathed, voice as gentle.
You turn, nerves twisting violently in your stomach. “Yeah?” you whisper back, inching closer towards him.
“I’m really glad you came,” he whispers, as if admitting to some deep secret. “And that I met you.”
You blush softly and smile. “I’m really glad I came too.”
Chris looks at you, eyes roaming your face, and then leans in. Your heart is pounding fast at what is about to happen. You look right into his eyes, seeing him hesitating but also wanting. In this moment, you know you want this—him. He gets to where just his breath is hitting your lips; he is so close. But he doesn’t do anything; he just smiles softly and whispers—
“Can I kiss you now?” He speaks it like it’s a wish. All your nerve endings ignite from the question. You nod.
“I’d be hurt if you didn’t,” you say gently.
Chris closes the last remaining gap, his hands going around your waist. The water moves, cool and calming, as your bodies float towards one another. His hands hold onto the edge for balance. When he finally kisses you, it’s something soft, almost scared. Like he wants this to be perfect and not ruin anything before it even began. You pause, then slowly bring yourself to kiss him back. It’s the two of you exploring this new interaction, and trying to figure out if this is good enough or not. You let out a soft moan, and you can feel Chris smiling against your mouth. His grip tightens around you, and his tongue lightly traces your lips. A silent question for can he have more?
For the quickest moment, you forget where you even are. The party, the guests, how it’s all just feet from you two. It feels like there is only this: the taste of his lips, the heat flowing through your body, and how you didn’t know how badly you wanted to kiss Chris until this exact moment.
You part your lips, letting him in, and his tongue tangles with yours. You hear a low moan from him fill the silence. As the kiss deepens, you feel how you are slowly losing yourself into him. One of Chris’s hands is now roaming your body, the water moving just perfectly so now he’s even closer to you. You subconsciously wrap your legs around his waist, and you feel the ache between your legs as you feel his cock pressing against you.
Chris breaks the kiss to catch his breath. He looks at you, unsure about what you are going to say next. Chris takes in your appearance, how your chest rises faster from kissing, how from the neck up you are slightly blushing, how you just look absolutely beautiful pushed against the pool wall. He pecks your cheek softly.
“I want more,” his voice is low, soothing almost. His forehead is now pressed against yours as if this were a quiet conversation. There’s slight nervousness and fear as he speaks the words out loud. “But only if you want it too.”
You look at him, and suddenly things are different than earlier. He wants you, in a way you didn’t think was going to happen. For a moment, you look at him and realize how you didn’t expect this outcome at all, but you weren’t turning it down now. You nod and whisper softly.
“I—I want more too. Should we go inside? Everyone is going to know if we do that, though.”
Chris gives a wicked smirk, a small kiss being pressed to your cheek before he mumbles, “We could just do it here, you know. I’ve never had sex outside before. It’d be a first. With you.” His voice holds heat, but also an underlying sincerity. Like he wants you to decide so that you feel comfortable.
The nod from you is all he needed to seal your fate. Chris gently turns you around, pressing your back right up against his front, the water dancing between you. Your hands grab the edge to keep balance. You look up and see that everyone inside is in their own world, having the time of their lives. Chris’s lips find your neck, planting kisses in places that make you shiver, your breathing growing heavier as his hands roam, adding to the feeling. One hand stays on your waist, the other finds your breast and cups it, his thumb circling your nipple through the fabric, pulling soft moans from you.
“You have to stay quiet,” he whispers, squeezing your breast just enough to make you gasp. “Last thing we need is someone seeing us fucking around in the pool. Understand me?” His words are a rough command. You nod.
“Mmm, no. I need words,” he growls. “Be a good girl and speak when I ask.” His mouth finds your neck, sucking on the skin right by your collarbone, and the feeling gives you a hot feeling everywhere. Your body arches, wanting more, desperate for everything he is offering.
A soft whine leaves you, your body backing into him some more. “Y-yes. I understand. Fuck.” The submission is quick. Given no thought, just giving him whatever he wants from you.
The hand that was just holding your breast moves down your stomach. You suck in a breath. Between the sensation of him touching you like this and the strong smell of chlorine, your brain was a bit foggy. But in the best way possible. His hand gently grabs your bottoms and pulls them down. Leaving them floating around your ankles, you were now completely bare from the waist down.
Chris lets out a low groan as your ass presses into his hard length, still buried in his swim trunks but highly noticeable now. His hand goes up the inside of your thigh, the water and his touch making everything feel cool and tingly throughout your body.
“Fuck. This might be a bad idea,” his voice is thick with want, “but god, I want you so badly.” His fingers find your clit, circling in slow, teasing motions.
You moan, the sound coming out before you can stop it, your grip tightening on the edge. Chris’s other hand covers your mouth as his fingers move faster. Every part of you is focused on his hands, the way it makes you ache for more.
“I told you—quiet,” Chris whispers, his breath hot against your ear. “If you’re naughty and loud, someone will hear us. You have to listen to me.” The words he speaks consume you, his fingers moving faster than before against your clit. Everything suddenly feels hotter in this pool. When his teeth meet the spot behind your ear, your toes curl from the feeling of pleasure.
You moan against his hand, every sound you make muffled by his palm. You feel that pressure build inside of you, forming right in the lower part of your belly. You’ve never moved this fast with someone before, doing something so reckless. Chris’s hips press into you, and you can feel every part of his hard cock now.
Chris pauses his hand, and you look back at him, confused about why he stopped. He slowly pushes his trunk down, the water helping to lower them. This is about to get so real, and it hits you fast. The things you both are about to do are going to happen here, outside with a party just a few feet away. The thought alone turns you on even more, if that was possible.
He gently places his trunks on the pool’s edge, hidden from view. His ankles hook around your legs, holding you to one another in the water. One hand goes around your waist. Chris’s lips find your neck again, placing kisses along it, each one soft and affectionate. One of your hands lets go of the pool edge, and it finds his thigh and slowly runs up it.
Chris moans softly into your neck, goosebumps forming on his legs. The reaction pulls a smile from you and gives you a thrill. You turn just enough to whisper, “What? I can’t have fun too?”
His eyes darken with want. “Teasing and having fun are two different things,” he speaks low. “Grab my cock, gorgeous. Or don’t bother teasing.” It’s a line, and he is now seeing if you will cross it.
You gasp at the sudden dominance, a shock after a day of laughter and light-hearted jokes. But you don’t hesitate. Your hand glides up his thigh and wraps around his cock. If you were outside of the pool, you know he’d feel heavy and thick, but the water makes him seem lighter than he probably is. He’s hot even though it’s in cool water. You give him slow strokes, feeling him shiver against your back from the sensation.
Chris moans, hips bucking forward, chasing the friction. “Oh fuck. Feels so good.”
You stroke him, squeezing gently at the tip each time. He’s so hard, and your hand struggles occasionally to hold onto him in the moving water. Chris’s fingers find your clit again, circling softly, both of you are panting and thrusting into each other’s hands. The air has become intense, filling with more than just friendly feelings.
“Look in the window,” Chris whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. “See everyone in there? They don’t have a fucking clue how good you’re making me feel right now. How your hand is on my cock, and the way you’re touching me.” His words make you ache. “Makes you want more, doesn’t it?” His head rests on your shoulder, and you both keep moving your hands beneath the water. Being caught, the danger, making this even more worth it.
You nod quickly. “Much more.”
He laughs softly, kissing your cheek. “You like being dangerous, don’t you? Getting off where anyone could see us?” His words are filthy, and they make your whole body pulse with excitement.
You whine, needy as his fingers press down on your clit, adding a deeper pressure. The water is doing nothing to cool the heat burning inside of you. He gently slides two fingers inside you, stretching out slowly. A whimper escapes your lips, and your hips jerk back against him.
“Oh god.”
The water moves around you both as his fingers thrust in and out, curling just right to find that spot that makes your vision go hazy with need. Every stroke of his fingers sends a new wave of shock through you. All you can hear is the sound of water splashing against your bodies, Chris’s soft moans, and your own sounds of pleasure.
Chris hits a certain spot in you, a moan falls from your lips, causing his legs to tighten around you and him to thrust harder in your hand. You squeeze harder and keep moving up and down his cock, making sure he knows silently that what he is doing to you feels so good.
“I can’t do this anymore. I need to see you,” Chris moans. Suddenly his hand leaves you, and he spins you to face him, pressing your back against the rough pool wall. His hands cage you in, his body surrounding yours. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him even closer.
He kisses you hungrily, tongue tangling with yours, both of you fighting for dominance. You moan into his mouth, lost in the heat of it, his teeth catching your lip before sucking gently. As you kiss each other, you feel his hand slip behind your neck, fingers working to undo the knot of your bikini top.
It comes undone, and it lies hanging, floating on the surface of the water, still tied under your chest. Chris pulls back, his eyes taking you in. You’re now completely bare, nipples hardening from water and nerves. The way he is staring at you makes that feeling in your stomach start again. He starts to kiss down your neck again, rougher now, leaving marks as he goes, proof for tomorrow.
“God, you’re fucking hot,” he groans, his hand coming up to cup your breast, thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your nipple, making your breath uneven. “Your tits are perfect. And the fact that everyone’s right inside…” His voice is wild. “It’s driving me fucking crazy.”
You moan, looking back, and you see everyone carrying on like nothing was happening out here. Knowing that makes you feel bold and brave. You grab Chris’s head, pull him into another kiss, biting and sucking his bottom lip until he moans into your mouth. You pull back and smirk at him.
“Thought you said we have to be quiet? Someone isn’t following their own rules.”
Chris gives you a playful glare, moving you so your legs are wrapped higher around his waist. The concrete scrapes against your back as he lifts you higher, pinning you in place. His mouth finds your nipple, biting it before soothing it with his tongue. You whine, arching into him. He is making you feel so needy and helpless.
“No. You want to play smart, then here you go. Be a good fucking girl and stay quiet.” Chris commands.
You stare at him, and a shiver goes through you at the command. Before you can answer, his mouth is on your breast again. Placing kisses everywhere except for your nipple. Chris sucks gently on the spot beneath the curve of your breast, and a needy whine falls out. He pulls back, a trail of spit connecting his mouth to your skin, and he leans in to kiss you again. The kiss is filthy. Spit swapping, tongues tangling, your fingers moving through his hair as you lose yourself in the taste of him.
He grabs his cock, guiding it so it’s between your folds, the thick head gliding along your pussy. He groans as he moves his cock up and down your folds. Every stroke makes you ache for more; this is a level of grinding you don’t think would feel as good as it does.
“Shit. Never done this before,” Chris moans into your ear. “But fuck, you feel so good.” His words alone make you clench around nothing.
You kiss his neck, silently telling him you need more. Chris shivers at your kisses. He guides his cock faster against you, chasing some sort of feeling. You find a spot just below his ear, sucking gently, and loving how he moves his head back to give you more room. The air is charged now between you two.
“I need you now. Fuck, come here,” there’s urgency in his voice.
He grabs your hand, and you both swim, laughter falling from your lips as you move to the other side of the pool. It’s darker over here, less exposed. You climb out and strip off your bikini top and bottoms, holding them in your hand. You follow Chris, wondering where he is taking you.
“Where are we going?” you giggle as he pulls you along. The cool air sends another wave of goosebumps onto your skin, making you feel more alive than ever.
“Somewhere I can actually fuck you—where the water won’t get in the way,” Chris says with a wicked smile as he leads you to a lounge chair tucked into the shadows.
As soon as you get to the chair, Chris turns and pulls you into a kiss. He mumbles against your mouth.
“On the chair. Stomach. You’ll face the window. Got me?”
You instantly can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, a small vibration of want going through you. Not saying much, but giving a small nod, you slowly lie on the chair, flat against it on your stomach. When you look up, you can once again see the party. It’s loud and lively. It also shocks you how nobody seems to question where the two of you are.
Chris climbs over you, his hand coming down to gently wrap around your jaw, tilting your head back so your eyes are locked on the windows. His lips brush your temple.
“Make no sound,” Chris whispers. “Even in the dark, if you’re loud enough, someone will see.” The words hang in the air, making this so much riskier, and the anticipation fills you.
You whine softly, pressing back against him, needing him. Chris chuckles. His hand grips your hips, pulling them up higher, and then he spanks you, the sting soothed immediately by his hand rubbing gently. A gasp leaves you. He does it again, the sting of pain followed by a soft rubbing motion. You look back, searching his face, but he just shakes his head, making you look forward, back at the window and the party.
“I can’t wait to have my cock buried deep inside you,” he whispers. “Fill you up while everyone’s just there, no idea what I’m doing to you.” The words make your body react instantly, wetness pooling between your thighs.
He slowly pulls your thighs apart, just the tip of his cock pressing against your entrance. Wanting this to happen makes you feel so alive in this moment.
“Chris. Please. I can’t wait anymore,” you whimper, desperate for friction, for him. The need in your voice is very clear.
He moves his cock along your folds, slow and teasing, moaning as he feels just how slick you are for him. “Fuck. So wet,” he breathes.
“Mhm. Please. Just do something,” you beg. Every second of waiting is agonizing, every brush of his cock a tease of something you desperately want.
Begging gets you everywhere. Chris spits in his palm, stroking himself for extra wetness, making sure everything is wet enough for you. He guides his cock to your entrance and pushes in slowly, the stretch making your breath catch. He stops with just the tip inside, feeling the wet heat of your body, both of you trembling.
“Fuck. You’re so tight—relax for me,” his voice is shaking, “or I’m not gonna last.”
You take a shaky breath, forcing your body to relax. The second you do, he slides deeper, and you both groan at the feeling. One of his hands stays anchored on your hip, the other sliding up to wrap around your throat. He leans down, lips brushing your ear, voice low.
“I’m going to push all the way in. Once I do, I’m fucking the shit out of you. Got me?”
You nod and whimper, your body clenching around him at just his words. He hisses at the sensation, grip tightening on your hip.
“[Y/N], quit teasing. Be a good girl and take all of me,” he says, voice rough with need.
Chris pushes deeper, bottoming out inside you. The fullness is overwhelming, a different kind of heat consumes you.
“God, Chris, you feel so good,” you whimper, voice cracking from emotion.
He starts slow, testing how much you can take. He pulls nearly all the way out, leaving just the tip, then thrusts back in deep. The pace is slow; every time he pulls out, you ache and need him even more. His grip on your neck and hip tightens, holding you, and you can feel that he’s as close to losing everything, like you.
“So wet—so tight when you clench around me. Jesus,” he pants.
“I need you to move faster. Please,” you beg.
It’s like a switch flip. What was once slow and exploratory now becomes relentless and hot. Chris’s hips snap into you, each thrust harder, deeper, his mouth dropping to your ear, deep moans filling it. The night is filled with nothing but your mingled moans, the slap of skin on skin, and the distant call of an owl.
His thrusts grow deep, taking the air from your lungs. You whine loudly, and Chris slides two fingers into your open mouth, a silent tell.
“Suck,” he commands. “Since you can’t keep quiet, I’ll keep that mouth busy.” The words make you shudder as you close your lips around his fingers, swirling your tongue, desperate to please him.
You suck on his fingers, swirling your tongue and gently nipping at the pads between sucks. Spit drips down his hand, and you moan around him, the taste and act making you feel dirty and loved all at once. His hips snap into yours. Everything gentle now is gone. He’s chasing his own high and making sure you follow with him.
“Such a dirty girl,” his voice is filled with praise and want. “Sucking my fingers while I fuck you like this.” The words make you clench around him.
You moan again, the vibration traveling through his fingers. He slides them out of your mouth, then pulls out of you, moving fast. In one quick motion, he flips you over, spreading your legs wide and lining himself up again. He plunges back into you, hands gripping your thighs, fucking you hard and fast. You look up at him in awe, every thrust sending pleasure through your whole body.
“Fuck, Chris. Feels so good,” you moan, your eyes locked on his face as he drives his cock into you. It’s perfect for you.
Chris nods, a small smirk forming on his lips. He looks down, watching himself sink into you, captivated by the sight. He spits onto his cock when he pulls back out, then slides back in, the feeling making both of you shudder. He closes his eyes, lost in the feeling of you for a moment, then glances up at the window. The wet sounds, the creak of the chair, the risk of being caught just turns him on even more.
“Not sure what’s hotter,” he whispers. “You taking me so good, or us fucking just a few feet from everyone else.” The words make you clench around him.
You agree with him. There’s something so hot about knowing that if anyone comes outside, this is game over. They’ll see and hear everything. Just as you’re about to answer, Chris hits the one spot inside you that sends you over the edge. You grip his shoulders and try to close your legs.
“Oh god. Right there, shit.” You pant softly.
Chris smirks, dropping lower, his thrusts turning eager as he chases both your highs. He fucks you harder, his breath ragged against your cheek.
“I can’t believe I’m inside you, filling you up so deep,” he says lowly. “Gonna fill you with my cum, watch it leak out of that perfect pussy.” The words make you shiver, and you nod at what he’s saying.
A soft, broken whimper spills from your lips. Chris kisses the sound away, tongue teasing yours in a messy and desperate tangle before he pulls back.
“You feel so fucking good,” he pants. “Knew from the moment I saw you that this pussy was going to be mine. Tell me, baby, who does it belong to?”
You gasp and say, “You. It’s yours, Chris.”
He bites your neck, sucking until you know he’s left another mark. His cock finds that spot again and again, driving you insane, your nails digging into his shoulders, soft whines spilling from your lips.
“That’s right. Mine,” he nips at your ear, his voice raw. “You’re so close. I can feel it. Gonna make you cum so hard, baby—make you forget anyone else before me. Only me now.”
“P—please. I want to cum on you. Chris. I need to.” You clench around him, the pressure building up.
“No. Not until I say so,” he groans, voice tight. “I’m almost there. We do it together.”
You can feel it. What was once a consistent pace from him is now turning sloppy and rushed. He is getting close to the edge himself. You do what you can to keep from cumming before him. It’s hard because his cock feels so good and it’s hitting the one spot that drives you crazy.
“Ch-Chris. I can’t. I’m gonna—” You get cut off by his voice.
“Now. Cum for me. Let go,” he commands, giving you what you need.
You don’t need convincing. The orgasm crashes over you. A heat moves through your body almost violently. You clench tight around his cock, legs locking at his waist, nails clawing down his back as your body shakes. Chris buries his moan in your neck, hips stuttering as he follows you over the edge. You feel him twitch and spill inside you, everything messy and perfect and real.
“Fuck. That’s it,” he whispers, voice going soft and sweet as pleasure goes through both of you. “Let it ride, baby—milking me so good. Take it all. Just like that.” His words make you feel owned and comforted at the same time.
His thrusts slow, turning lazy, just enough to help you both ride out the orgasm. He peppers your face with soft kisses before finally pressing a soft kiss to your lips. The night is now quiet, but you can still hear the distant owl.
He finally slows to a stop, pulling out once you both have normal breathing patterns again. You meet his eyes, and a shared smile passes between you. You boop his nose, both of you giggling softly in the dark. Chris looks down, watching his cum leak from you. He gathers some on his fingers and brings them to your lips.
“Open. Taste,” he murmurs, voice affectionate.
You listen, lips opening up, and his fingers slide into your mouth again. The taste is warm, salty, completely the two of you mixed together. You swirl your tongue over his fingers, moaning softly as he watches, eyes dark, watching you clean him off of his fingers.
“Shit,” he whispers, sounding wrecked and awed. “That’s even hotter than I expected.”
You smile as his fingers fall from your lips, cheeks flushed with happiness. Sitting up, you look around for your bathing suit and spot it nearby. You quickly grab it, your heart pounding, then rush back to where Chris sits, laughter coming out as he watches you make that mad dash. He scoots closer and gently helps you retie your bikini top.
You both put your bottoms back on. Once you’re both dressed, Chris turns and pulls you into a hug, one that silently says that he wants this forever. You place your head against his chest, pressing small kisses to his chest as his arms hold you close.
“Guess we should go back inside, huh?” he murmurs. “Think anyone’s going to believe we were just out here swimming?” His words are playful. But now there’s a secret between you two that makes this so much better.
You blush and shrug, “Maybe? Oliver might be the only one who doesn’t.”
Chris nods, a light pink color showing on his own cheeks. He looks at you, and you can tell he wants to say or ask something else, so you wait patiently.
“Uh… Can I—this is so backward, I know, but can I get your number? I’d really like to take you on an actual date.” Chris’s face goes full-blown red, and somehow it’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever seen.
You grab his hand and nod. “I’d love that. Even if we did do things a little backwards.”
Chris smiles, and as you look at him, all you can think is, thank god Oliver invited you to this party.
M yaps: So somehow my smuts just keep getting longer and longer.... Also I stayed up until 3am typing this so IDK man. Enjoy?
The body of 18 year old Nolan Xavier Wells has unfortunately been found after he went missing from Horn Island, Mississippi. Wells went boating with a group of boys — the rest of the party being white — on July 4th, but he was the only one who didn’t return to shore.
It is becoming increasingly dangerous to be the only black person in a group. Rest in peace, Nolan. You deserve justice.
Update:
I’ve found his family’s GoFundMe for his funeral and celebration of life expenses. This campaign was created by their family friend Allayah Denis and is the only campaign they have, all others are fraudulent. They haven’t reached their goal yet, and funeral expenses are an incredible burden, so if you have the means please consider donating.
In Loving Memory of Nolan Xavier Wells
Our hearts are broken beyond words.
… Allayah Denis needs your support for In Loving Memory of
As of right now there appears to be no investigation yet, but hopefully there will be soon. Mississippi representative Bennie G. Thompson has publicly urged authorities for an investigation on his social media. If you have any more information please let me know. I’ll put any further updates in a reblog.
*Alt text has now been added to the original images.
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Just some cute headcanons of miss fudd with a whimsy gf.
-The woman has my whole heart istg I need dat.
•azzi absolutely loves your style.
•when she first saw your insta after you got recruited to UConn she knew she was in love.
•i wear very different from the type of clothing that she does but opposites do attract 🤷🏽♀️
•loves watching you do your makeup. She can appreciate all the time you take to look like a fairy when your just going to walk around storrs for a few hours with the team.
•she def steals your clothes and jewelry, which you don't mind that much.
•after you both are drafted you hard launch at all star weekend. Some people are surprised since you don't look like you'd date but most could already tell by the distinct jewelry she took from you, and all the glances across the court over the years.
•she let's you have the aux all the time. She doesn't care if kk is complaining about it in the back, she'll let you play Fleetwood Mac and Steve lacy all day if that's what you want.
"broooooo we've been listening to this hippie stuff for the past hour, can we change it?"
"no."
•she knows some people give you shit about how you dress and act because they think it's 'white people shit' so she'll give them small jabs and glare at them.
•her parents and brothers think you're so cool. You were nervous to meet them for the first time but they welcomed you into their family fast.
•she'll let you do some of your eye makeup on her for events and you'll be matching.
•you teach her about a lot of alternative culture. She might not be a part of it or understand it but she'll listen to you yap for hours because she loves that excited glint you get in your eyes.
•you force her to watch lain and neon Genesis (She secretly likes them.)
• azzi fudd who loves all of your tattoos, especially the one on your lower back.
• azzi fudd who won't get high but will basically babysit you while you eat popcorn on the floor.
They look so good but all jokes aside is this not a little bit weird?? Like the people watching for her at their hotel, that tmz guy, etc..
we obviously dk where they were at but “how did you know I was coming HERE though” tells you enough, it doesn’t even look like theres other fans around.
Summary: Dean never expected a simple accident in a crowded university hallway to stay on his mind for days. After an unexpected encounter with a girl he can’t stop thinking about, he’s left questioning how much he takes communication for granted. Determined to make things right, Dean embarks on a journey that might change far more than just one first impression.
The first thing Dean noticed wasn’t her face.
It was the silence.
Briar University was chaos between classes.
Lockers slammed shut.
People shouted across the hallway.
Someone’s speaker blasted music that probably wasn’t allowed on campus.
The hockey team was arguing about practice.
Football players crowded the entrance, laughing loud enough to echo through the building.
It was the kind of noise Dean had grown used to.
He was laughing at something Logan had said over text while balancing an iced coffee in one hand and his phone in the other.
Logan: If you’re late again, Coach is making you skate until you cry.
Dean snorted.
Dean: Worth it.
Without looking up, he rounded the corner.
Straight into someone.
Books flew everywhere.
A notebook slid halfway down the hallway.
Colored pens scattered across the polished floor.
“Oh, shit.” Dean nearly dropped his coffee as he immediately crouched down. “I’m so sorry.”
He reached for a textbook before another student stepped on it.
“I wasn’t looking.” Still kneeling, he handed it to its owner.
Only then did he actually look at her.
She was beautiful.
Not in the way girls usually tried to be on campus.
No heavy makeup.
No perfectly curled hair.
No outfit screaming for attention.
She looked…
Soft. Comfortable.
Her oversized cream sweater covered most of her hands, and a pair of headphones rested around her neck—not over her ears.
Dean noticed the detail without really thinking about it.
She accepted the book with a small smile.
He smiled sheepishly.
“I swear I’m not usually this clumsy.” Nothing.
No “It’s okay.”
Nothing at all.
Dean blinked.
“…Seriously?”
She continued gathering her things.
He frowned.
Had she just… Ignored him?
His ego took the tiniest hit.
“I said I’m sorry.” She finally looked up.
Her eyes met his.
Then she lifted her hands.
Her fingers moved gracefully.
Quickly. Confidently.
Dean stared.
“…Uh…” She repeated the movements slower.
His eyebrows pulled together.
“I…”
Another sentence.
More signs.
Dean felt completely lost.
“I don’t understand.” She stopped.
For just a second, disappointment crossed her face.
Then understanding.
She gently pointed toward her ear. Then shook her head.
Next, she touched her lips.
Another small shake.
Dean’s stomach dropped.
Oh.
She wasn’t ignoring him.
She couldn’t hear him.
Heat rushed to his face.
“Oh my God…” He whispered it mostly to himself.
She gave him a kind smile.
The kind that somehow made him feel even worse.
She signed one more sentence.
Dean had no idea what she’d said.
Not even one word.
Then she carefully placed the last notebook into her backpack.
Before leaving, she offered him one final smile.
Small. Warm.
Gone just as quickly as she disappeared into the crowd.
Dean stayed kneeling on the floor long after she’d left.
“…Dean?” Someone nudged his shoulder.
He looked up.
Garrett stood over him with Logan beside him, both carrying hockey bags.
Garrett raised an eyebrow.
“You planning on proposing to the floor?” Dean blinked.
“What?”
“You’ve been staring at the hallway for, like, two minutes.”
Logan glanced toward the direction the girl had gone.
“Who was she?” Dean slowly stood.
“I don’t know.” Garrett laughed.
“You don’t know who a girl is? That’s a first.” Dean barely heard him.
“She’s deaf.”
The teasing immediately disappeared from Garrett’s face.
“Oh.”
“I ran over her and when I apologized for it, she kept ignoring it. And I that she was just rude or something.” He explains to them. “Turns out that she just couldn’t hear me.”
Logan rubbed the back of his neck.
“That has to feel pretty crappy.”
“It does. Because she said something in sign language and I just stood here looking like an idiot.”
Dean looked down at the notebook she’d accidentally left behind.
A slim black journal. He picked it up.
There was no name on the cover.
Only a tiny silver moon in one corner.
“I need to give this back.” Garrett smirked.
“Sure.” Dean looked at him.
“What?”
“Nothing.” Garrett exchanged a knowing look with Logan.
“Just saying… I’ve never seen you volunteer to return a notebook before.” Dean rolled his eyes.
“I just feel bad.”
“Mhm.” Logan chuckled.
“We totally believe you.”
⸻
For the rest of the day… Dean couldn’t stop looking for her.
Every hallway.
Every lecture building.
Every coffee shop on campus.
Nothing.
By dinner, the notebook was still sitting on his desk.
He flipped through it exactly once.
Blank.
Every page. Not a single word.
Probably a new notebook.
He closed it immediately.
“I’m not a creep.” He wasn’t going to invade her privacy.
Still…
He wished he knew her name.
⸻
Three days later.
No sign of her.
Dean was beginning to wonder if she’d transferred.
Or if she’d somehow been a figment of his imagination.
“You’re distracted.” Dean looked up from his burger.
Across the dining hall table sat Garrett, Logan, Tucker and Beau.
“I’m eating.” Garrett snorted.
“You’ve been staring at the ketchup bottle for thirty seconds.” Dean glanced down.
“…Huh.” Beau narrowed his eyes.
“Okay what’s going on?”
“What?”
“This is getting weird.” Dean shrugged.
“I’m fine.”
“No.” Beau leaned forward.
“You never say you’re fine.” Logan nodded.
“He’s got a point.” Dean sighed dramatically.
“I bumped into this girl.” Garrett grinned.
“There it is.”
Dean ignored him.
“I thought she ignored me after I apologized.”
“And?”
“She’s deaf.” The table grew quieter.
Tucker was the first to speak.
“Ouch.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.
“I felt like an asshole.”
“You didn’t know,” Tucker said.
“I know.” Dean sighed. “But she was signing something to me. And I just stood there and couldn’t even apologize properly.”
“She must had felt bad.” Beau said.
“It’s just frustrating, because we don’t know how excluded they feel until something like these happen.”
“What do you mean?” Logan asked.
“Do you think one of us would care to learn sign language? No, because we don’t know anyone that’s deaf, but we shouldn’t have to know someone to actually learn, so no one could feel what that girl felt.” He says frustrated and gathered his things and went out.
⸻
Later that night…
Dean sat alone in his room.
The notebook rested beside his laptop.
He stared at it.
Then at the search bar.
Then back at the notebook.
“This is ridiculous.” He typed anyway.
Beginner ASL lessons.
Hundreds of videos appeared.
He clicked the first one.
A smiling woman waved at the camera.
“Today we’re going to learn your first conversation in American Sign Language.”
Dean copied her.
Awkwardly.
His fingers refused to cooperate.
“How do people make this look so easy?”
He replayed the same thirty-second clip nearly twenty times.
Hello.
He practiced.
Again.
My name is…
Again.
By the time midnight rolled around, his fingers actually remembered the movements.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
He smiled to himself.
“Hello. My name is Dean.” The signs still felt clumsy.
But they were real.
A knock sounded at his door.
Dean barely looked up.
“It’s open.” The door swung inward.
Beau walked in carrying a bag of chips.
“So, I was thinking we could—” He stopped.
Dean froze. One hand still in the air.
Halfway through signing his own name.
Silence.
Beau slowly looked at the laptop.
The paused ASL lesson.
Then at Dean.
Then back to the screen.
A slow grin spread across his face.
“No…” Dean sighed.
“Don’t start.”
“Dude.”
“Beau.”
“Are you learning sign language?” Dean rubbed a hand over his face.
“…Maybe.” Beau burst into laughter.
Not mean laughter. The kind only a best friend could get away with.
“Oh, this is priceless.” Dean threw a pillow at him.
“Shut up.” Beau caught it easily.
“You are down bad.”
“I am not.”
“You’ve known this girl for approximately thirty seconds.” Dean pointed toward the laptop.
“I just…” He hesitated.
“I want to be able to apologize.” Beau’s smile softened.
For the first time since walking in, he stopped laughing.
“…That’s actually very nice of you.” Dean blinked.
“You think so?” Beau shrugged.
“I mean…” He tossed the pillow back. “You’re still completely screwed. But it’s nice that you’re trying.”
Dean smiled.
Beau nodded toward the laptop.
“I hope you find her again.”
Dean looked down at the notebook resting beside the keyboard.
“So do I.”
He had no idea that, somewhere else on campus, Y/N was wondering if she’d ever see the hockey player from the hallway again.
And sitting on her own desk…
Was a sticky note she’d written after the collision.
The cute guy with the green eyes still has my notebook.
Summary: Dean never expected a simple accident in a crowded university hallway to stay on his mind for days. After an unexpected encounter with a girl he can’t stop thinking about, he’s left questioning how much he takes communication for granted. Determined to make things right, Dean embarks on a journey that might change far more than just one first impression.
Ps: Dialogue in BOLD and ITALICS indicates that the characters are communicating in sign language.
Dialogue in BOLD only indicates that they are writing in the notebook.
Dean walked out of the kitchen to the living room carrying a protein shake, looking far too cheerful for eight in the morning.
Garrett noticed immediately.
“He’s smiling.” Logan looked up from the couch.
“That’s concerning.” Tucker glanced over, then frowned.
“Why does he look like a puppy?” Dean stopped.
“What’s wrong with you guys?” Garrett crossed his arms dramatically.
“You look to happy for someone that’s preparing to hit the gym.”
Dean rolled his eyes, drinking his shake.
“I can’t just wake up in a good mood?”
“If you fucked someone last night, sure.” Garrett says. “But if you slept alone then no, it’s weird you’re in a good mood.”
“That’s suspicious,” Logan agreed.
Dean let out an exaggerated sigh.
“You guys are seeing things.”
Before anyone could keep interrogating him, Beau walked into the room.
The second he looked at Dean, a slow grin spread across his face.
“Morning guys.” He says and the guys answered but belt looking at Dean. “What are we looking at?”
“Dean woke up excited today.”
“Oh, did he?” Dean immediately pointed at him.
“Don’t start.”
“I know exactly why he’s smiling.” Garrett looked between them.
“What does he know that we don’t?” Beau took a sip of his coffee, enjoying the suspense far too much.
“Our friend here has been watching sign language lessons every single night.”
Silence.
Logan blinked once.
“…Seriously?” Dean rubbed the back of his neck.
“I just…” He shrugged awkwardly. “I wanted to apologize properly.”
For a second, nobody teased him.
Tucker smiled first.
“That’s actually kind of sweet.” Dean groaned.
“Please don’t make this weird.” Garrett laughed.
“Dean Di Laurentis voluntarily studying?”
Logan nodded solemnly.
“I’ve seen miracles before, but this might be the biggest one.”
Dean grabbed one of the pillows from the couch and threw it at Garrett.
“Shut up. And for your information I might not study a lot but my grades are higher Thant all of yours.”
“That’s actually true.” Beaus says laughing.
Even Dean couldn’t hide the small smile that stayed on his face.
⸻
Two days later Dean had almost convinced himself he’d never see her again.
Briar was huge.
Thousands of students crossed campus every day.
The odds of running into one specific person twice felt ridiculously small.
Still… He carried the black notebook everywhere.
Every class.
Every practice.
Every walk across campus.
Just in case he saw her again and had the opportunity to return it.
But he knew that he just wanted to make sure that he could talk to her.
That afternoon, Logan asked him to go to the library to find a history book he’d been needing for one of his classes.
He wandered between shelves for several minutes, reading the labels until he found the correct aisle.
As he turned the corner…
He stopped.
She was there.
Sitting alone beside one of the tall windows, surrounded by books and handwritten notes.
Soft afternoon sunlight streamed through the glass, catching the edges of her hair.
Everything around her seemed strangely quiet.
For a second, Dean simply stood there.
His heartbeat picked up.
“There you are…” He hadn’t realized he’d whispered the words until they were already out.
Before he could overthink it, he walked toward her.
She sensed someone approaching and looked up.
Recognition appeared almost immediately.
Then came the smile.
Warm. Gentle.
The same smile he’d been thinking about for two days.
Dean smiled back without even noticing.
He carefully placed the black notebook on the table between them.
Her eyes widened.
She looked down at the familiar silver moon on the cover before lifting her gaze back to him.
Dean swallowed.
Then, a little nervously, he raised his hands.
“Hello.” The movement wasn’t perfect.
He knew it wasn’t. His fingers hesitated for half a second before continuing.
“My name… Dean.” He took one slow breath. “Sorry.”
He said and pointed to her notebook.
When he finished, he felt strangely exposed.
Like he’d just taken an exam without knowing if he’d passed.
She stared at him for a long moment.
Not because he’d done it wrong.
Because she’d clearly never expected it.
A soft laugh escaped her.
Not one of amusement. One of genuine surprise.
Her eyes brightened before she instinctively answered in sign language.
The moment she finished, she paused.
Realizing he couldn’t understand most of it yet.
Dean laughed quietly.
“I still have a lot to learn.”
She smiled and she pulled the small notebook he returned it and a pen.
She wrote carefully before sliding it toward him.
You’re learning sign language?
Dean nodded. He picked up the pen.
For a second, he hesitated.
There were dozens of things he could write.
I wanted to apologize.
I felt bad.
I didn’t mean to scare you.
Instead…
He wrote the simplest truth.
For you.
She read the sentence once.
Then again.
When she looked back at him, something in her expression had softened.
She looked down and wrote another question.
Why?
He instantly replied.
Because I couldn’t bare the fact that I couldn’t apologize properly to you for the accident.
She smiled.
Would you like some help learning?
Dean smiled before he even realized he was doing it.
I’d really like that.
She smiled too.
Then, slowly, she pointed at herself before signing her name.
Dean watched carefully. Completely focused.
Trying to memorize every movement.
She noticed.
A quiet laugh escaped her before she repeated it, this time a little slower.
Dean copied the signs as best he could.
She gave him an approving nod.
His first lesson had officially started.
Neither of them noticed Beau walking past the library windows outside.
He stopped mid-step.
His eyes widened.
Dean and the girl.
The black notebook with the silver moon.
Dean… smiling like an idiot.
Beau slowly lowered the coffee he’d been holding.
“…No way.”
Without taking his eyes off the scene inside, he pulled out his phone, took a photo and send it to a group chat he created just with the other boys about him.
Dean and his lover girl.
Group chat
Beau: Emergency meeting tonight.
Dean found the notebook girl.
Garrett: NO WAY.
Logan: ABOUT TIME.
Tucker: I give him two weeks before he’s completely gone.
Beau looked through the window one last time.
Dean was still sitting across from her, completely invested in learning another sign.
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warnings: sad, making paige sad, paige is helplessly yearning, reader is kind of a bitch sorry, so much weed usage! making out, no use of y/n, paige calls reader honey, baby, and sugar
plot: you’re gay and deeply in denial and using paige to figure shit out (mean!) and paige is so pussy whipped she just lets you😔 happy ending tho i promise, reader is very girly.
a/n: i’ve never been to uconn, i don’t know what their greek life is like, but in this they have frat parties every week alright? reader has big boobs, if you don’t, neither do i, just pretend. ik i talk about part 2’s a lot of the time but this like really is a series i swear.
Paige’s injury was weighing on her. She hated being out, she hated feeling useless. Any time her team lost she blamed herself, if she’d just taken better care of her body, she could’ve been out there putting in game winning shots. She hated being left out, she hated the pain in her knee.
And my god, she hated how bored she was. She didn’t realize how much of her life was spent on basketball till she couldn’t do anything anymore.
I mean sure she had PT 4 times a week but so much of her life was basketball. No more early morning runs, hours of her day that had once been spent practicing, shooting 3’s, playing scrimmages, or hitting the weight room? Now those hours were spent bumming around her apartment feeling bad for herself.
She started hanging out around you more and more during her recovery. She’d known you for a few years now, one of Amari’s friends. She always thought you were cute but she told herself she didn’t like you. You always had a boyfriend anyways. They never lasted long, but you always had one.
She didn’t like straight girls, she wasn’t a chaser. Liking a straight girl meant endless pinning that wouldn’t get her anywhere.
So no, she didn’t like you– not romantically at least. But she did like getting high in your apartment.
She lays on your bed, staring at the ceiling. The edible has fully kicked in and it’s strong. She knew your boyfriend was over, and it pissed her off (just because he’s a bad boyfriend and nothing else at all) so she went out and got the pack of gummies, sending you a photo of the bag with a ‘?’. She knew you’d kick him out.
But Goddamnit standing in the doorway of your apartment? Apparently because you were hanging out with him, you were dressed for him. She hates when you wear tops to low cut because she can’t take her eyes off your chest. She feels bad but she knows you’re too oblivious to even notice. But the way your tits are straining against that fabric? Begging to spill out on display for her? She’s a mess.
But she ate a gummy and so did you. She knew weed probably wasn’t good for her recovery, but it was the easiest way to be around you. If she reached out to you just asking to hang out, it’s unlikely you’d agree without questions or suspicion.
So here she is, laying in your bed, high as fuck.
You’re sitting on your floor looking out of the window. “I think I’m gonna break up with Ayden.” You sigh softly.
This peaks Paige’s interests, making her sit up. “Yeah? Why?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I’m just kinda done. He’s annoying.”
“How so?” She asks, eager to pry.
You turn around and lean on the wall, looking up at her on your bed. “He’s bad at sex, he’s jealous, but he talks to other girls. So… I’m done.”
Paige feels guilty, she hates how exciting this is to her. Granted she gets excited every time you break up with a guy, which makes it twice as painful when you inevitably get with another boy. But this never seems to stop her from getting excited again, a cycle.
“He sounds like an ass. Glad you’re leaving him.” She nods.
You look up at her, those blue eyes glossed over, eyelids heavy. She really is beautiful. “Is it easier being a lesbian? Women seem… like better people.”
She’s surprised. You’ve never really asked her about her sexuality. She thinks for a moment, “Nah girls can be bitches too but… you talk about bad sex a lot and I feel like guys aren’t good in bed. At least with women like… the sex is almost mever bad.” She shrugs, trying to be honest.
Really though, she thinks being a lesbian is terrible, because it comes will falling head over heels for a girl who talks about nothing but boys.
You hum, nodding, “I don’t know like… I like ridding though.”
Paige laughs, you’ve always been overly blunt when you’re high. Today is no exception.
“That’s what straps are for.” She laughs.
Again your reaction manages to surprise her.
“I’ve never understood the appeal. Why not just get with a guy?”
“Cause… women are better. And guys don’t have tits and… women are hotter.” She shrugs. She’s never thought much of it.
“Have you ever used a strap?” You look up at her. Such innocent curiosity in those eyes, what she would give to show you just how great a strap can be. She can just imagine your tits bouncing in that white tube top while you fall apart on the navy blue strap she has in her bottom drawer. Or maybe she’d buy one just for you. A pink one. She’s sure you’d like that.
“Yeah.” She nods. “I’m usually the one wearing it though.”
“So you’re a top?” You ask.
Jeez, how do you even know this shit? Paige nods anyways though. “Yeah it’s fun.” She shrugs.
“Why?” You continue.
What? “Why what?”
“Like… why is it fun, what do you like about it?”
Oh. Shit how does she even explain this to you? “I don’t know it’s like… control or something. And a strap feels good to, you know like… rubs my pussy as well. But… I don’t know it’s just fun to watch a girl fall apart cause I’m fucking her.” She wants to watch you fall apart while she fucks you.
She’s sure she’d be uncomfortable sober, but right now she doesn’t have much going on in her train of thoughts, let alone enough to trigger any form of shame or humility.
“Cool.” You nod. “Why don’t you date anyone though?”
Paige furrows her brows, “Fuck you mean? I just got with a girl last friday.” She scoffs.
You groan and roll your eyes, “Yeah, I know you sleep with people. I mean dating. Why don’t you date anyone.”
“Sure I do.” Paige shrugs.
“Okay, who was the lest girl you actually dated?”
She sighs, thinking back. It admittedly has been seven months, and even that wasn’t a very serious relationship. “Okay whatever. Shut up.”
You just chuckle, shaking your head. You stand up and walk over to the bed, sitting down next to Paige. “So. Who do you like?”
Paige looks up at you with curiosity. “Pardon?”
“Who’s your crush?” You persist.
You. “Don’t have one.” She shrugs.
You huff and cross your arms, “Broringgggg! Come on, there must be someone.”
“There really isn’t,” She shrugs again, “sorry to disappoint.”
You groan, overly dramatic, “You’re such a loser Paige…!”
“Woah woah woah!” She laughs, “not too much on me, I like being single.”
The only other times Paige saw you were frat parties. This made her love frat parties. She didn’t actually care for them very much, she was indifferent, but it was an excuse to see you. She told herself she really did like frat parties, even if it wasn’t true.
So here she is on a Friday night with Aubrey and Ice, with a white polo, jorts, and a slight limp.
She’s immediately hit with the smell of weed as she walks through the door. Figures. The music was loud and the space was already crowded.
She headed to the kitchen and opened the cooler, grabbing the first beer she saw.
Okay maybe she did like frat parties, but she wouldn’t go as often as she didn’t if you didn’t go to so many.
It’s not like you went every week, but usually every other. You said it was good enough for you. You’re still getting out twice a month, but no one can say you party every weekend.
She pretended to care about the other people she said hi to, but she didn’t. She was looking for you.
When her eyes found you she froze. You had on a black tank top, a tight one, letting her see your cleavage. Okay letting anyone see your cleavage, but she liked to wish deep down it was for her. And this little sparkly sequin cheetah print skirt, she’d seen you wear once before at the start of the year.
You looked amazing. When did you not?
She made her way over to you, trying to seem as chill as possible, like you both just happened to be at the same party, like she wasn’t here for you.
“Hey,” She smiled.
You’d been talking to someone Paige vaguely recognized, a girl in your sorority. You look up and stop your conversation, standing up and giving me a hug. “Hi Paige!” You smile excitedly.
She feels butterflies at the thought of how happy you always were to see her. I mean sure, you were extremely social and acted like that when you saw most people, but Paige still felt special.
She notices as you look down at the beer in her hand and grimace, “that shit is so nasty, why do you drink it?”
“Better than being a girl-drink-drunk,” she teases, referring to the Blue Raspberry Beatbox in your hand. She’s tried them before, so much fruit juice and sugar you can’t even taste the alcohol.
“Whatever, have fun tasting gross,” you shrug rolling your eyes.
Tasting gross? Did you think she was gonna kiss someone? Paige ignores that.
“You havin’ fun?”
“Yeah!” You nod, you quickly motion for your friend you’d been talking to stand up. “This is Celia!” You smile.
Paige smiles and extends her hand, “Paige.” She smiles politely.
“I know!” The girl smiles shaking Paige’s hand.
Did you talk about her to Celia? But her question is answered before she can think much longer about it.
“I’ve been to some of your games,” Celia smiles.
Figures, she doesn’t like to be cocky but she knows the majority of campus knows who she is. She just likes to be optimistic that people won’t know who she is.
“Cool,” she nods. “We won I’m sure?”
“Yeah!” Celia nods, “It was uh… DePaul the last one I saw you at.”
“Nice.” Paige remembers the last time she played DePaul. Last season before she got this fucking tear.
“I’m gonna go find my boyfriend!” Celia announces, more to you than Paige she assumes. Sure enough you give her a hug and promise to find her later.
“She seems cool.” Paige smiles down at you.
“I don’t really know her that well,” you shrug in response. “Just some mutual friends.”
“I get that,” she nods, feeling awkward, worried you’ll go talk to someone else. “So did you dump Ayden yet?”
“Don’t say dump!” You scoff, “I politely ended things!” You clarify, “but yeah.”
Paige nods, secretly happy, “Nice. You happy?”
You nod, “yeah I guess it’s good he’s gone.”
“What now?” She continues.
“I mean… I should probably try out being single but… I don’t really want to.” You shrug.
“What’s the longest you’ve been single?” She asks.
“Well… I was single the whole summer between Freshman and Sophomore year, so probly like 4 months?”
Paige feels like she should be surprised, but in the year or so she’s known you, you’ve been with 5 different guys. If she was an asshole she might even consider you a slut, but that thought hadn’t really crossed her mind.
“l guess I’m kind of a whore, huh?” You continue.
“What? No of course not!” Paige says quickly, not wanting you to think so low of yourself. “It’s totally normal to date a lot in college, that’s the whole point of your 20’s.”
You pause and smile up at her. “Thanks Paige.” You seem to genuinely appreciate her defending you.
“This party kinda sucks,” you sigh, looking around. “Wanna dip?”
Paige didn’t care what they did, the thought of doing something with you was enough to have her nodding in seconds. “Totally.” She agrees.
After finding Ice to give her a quick a goodbye, and being told Aubrey was “busy” with a girl and wouldn’t wanna be interrupted, Paige headed out to her car where you were waiting.
“Are you sure you can drive?” You fuss again.
“Honey I’ve had half a beer all night, I can drive.” She assured you.
“Alright,” You sighed, getting into her passenger seat.
A few minutes into the drive to Paige apartment, you spoke again, “Do you have more edibles at your place?”
“Yeah I got a pack.” She nods.
“Can we get high?” you ask.
“Course,” she nods, eyes on the road. Paige didn’t actually get high very often. I mean, she’d done it several times throughout her first two years of college, but it wasn’t something she could do often. After all she’s an athlete, she needed her body to be at the top of its game all the time, and weed wasn’t exactly healthy. But she liked getting high with you, she’d never say no to that.
You slip off your black kitten heels in the doorway of her apartment. Ice wouldn’t be home till much later, so Paige wasn’t worried about interruptions. She headed into her room, rummaging through her drawer of t-shirts to find the bag of gummies at the bottom.
She took one out and chewed it, it tasted slightly like raspberry and mostly like weed. Gross. Whatever. She handed you the pack, watching you chew a gummy as well.
“You want something?” She asks, looking at you in her doorway.
“Like what?” Your brows furrowed.
“Food? Water?”
“Oh!” You giggled. “Yeah! Do you still have those sprite cans?”
“Sure do mamas,” she smiled, heading into the kitchen and opening the fridge, handing you a can. She knows better than to throw it at you, remembering cleaning up sprite all over her floor after making that mistake before. You did not catch the can, instead it hit her counter and exploded.
She watches as you carefully crack open the soda can, cautious of your shiny baby pink nails.
You bring the can to your lips and take a sip, rubbing off some of that sparkly brown lip gloss.
You head into Paige’s bedroom and sit down on her bed. You don’t ask, or even look to see if Paige is following. Maybe you know how much you have her around her finger, like you know she’d always say yes to you and always follow. Or maybe you were oblivious. She wasn’t sure, but she was sure to follow you into her room and sit down across from you, leaning on her headboard.
“You gonna spill that sprite on my bed?” She smirks.
“Nuh-uh!” You shake your head. “Pink sweat!” You insist, holding out your right pinky to lock with hers.
“Alright…” She chuckles, squeezing your pinky with hers.
“So do you have a crush yet?” You ask her.
“What?” Paige looks up.
“Last time we got high, you said you had no crushes. Have you gotten one yet?”
Gotten one? Paige laughs. “Sorry sugar, no dice.”
You pout. Paige laughs again. Maybe the weed is getting to her brain faster than usual because something in her just snaps the way you look at her all soft and pouting. It’s like her train of thought is just silent.
“Alright maybe I do.” She admits.
Your face lights up. She loves how happy you look. All that cause she has a crush? Paige just wants to make you happy after all.
“Who? Who? who?” you squeal happily, tapping Paige’s leg repeatedly.
“You.” She smiles softly.
You furrow your brows and laugh a little, seemingly ignoring her answer and persisting. “Come on! Tell me! Pleaseeeee! I’m such a good secret keeper!” You insist.
“I did tell you!” Paige replies.
“When?” You furrow your brows. God you were so oblivious…
“Just now, it’s you.” She continues. Goddamit she wishes anything would come into her head and stop her, but somehow just seeing how sweet you looked wanting to know her crush? She couldn’t lie to you.
“Ha ha, very funny Paige.” You roll your eyes. “Just tell me!”
She leans forward, to look at you closer, “You don’t believe me?” She says softly.
Your face shifts, more confused now. “Paige…” Disbelief on your face. “Me?”
“Yeah, you.” She nods. Jesus where did her shame go!?
“Why?” You furrow your brows. “Paige you know I’m straight. You’re being silly.”
“Yeah I know you’re straight and I hate it, how ‘bout that?”
“What?” Your voice drops. You look hurt. Upset. Oh no! How did she upset you.
Paige gets nervous, “Shit baby, what’s wrong?”
“No! You can’t call me baby now! You like me? Like… like like me?” You still look so hurt.
“Yeah… so?”
“Well… now I feel terrible Paige! What am I supposed to do?” You huff, throwing your hands up and smacking the bed.
“What do you mean?” She’s confused. You’re upset? Even though she’s the one who’s had to pine after you with no hope in sight.
“I just…” You sigh, clearly struggling to find words, “I love you so much and… I’m sad that you’re sad and… it’s my fault, but I can’t fix it…”
Paige worries, you look like you’re on the verge of tears. The weed is definitely kicking in. “Wait-” She gulps, feeling bad that you feel bad. You really just are too sweet for your own good. “Please don’t feel bad, it’s not your fault you don’t feel the same.” she assures you.
You sigh again, very pouty tonight and just stare at Paige.
Then you do something Paige would’ve never seen coming. She’s too high to process you leaning in, or to understand what she’s feeling as your lips hit hers. She let it happen because she’s so out of it and so slow to register what’s happening.
But soon enough she pulls back, grabbing your arms to pull you off of her, “What the fuck are you doing?” she doesn’t sound angry, just deeply confused.
Your face softens into something guilty and pitiful, “I’m trying to help you feel better…” You sit back, looking like a kicked puppy.
“What?” Paige is still deeply confused and shocked.
“I just thought… you know… if you liked me you’d wanna kiss me and… this way you get to.” You shrug meekly.
Jesus you were sickeningly sweet. You were kissing her to try and give her some of yourself, because she knew she’d never have you. But despite your good intentions, this only makes things worse for her. Now she’s gotten to feel your lips, knowing she’ll never get to again. She already knew she’d couldn’t have you, but now she knows she can’t have you or those pretty lips. The lips she once loved to stare at when you were distracted, the lips she’s certain will permanently be burned into her.
“No, no… that’s not- you shouldn’t-” Paige sighs, unsure of what to say.
“How can I make you feel better?” You look up at her through those soft beaty lashes. Wide doe eyes, slightly red and heavy from the weed, but still desperate to help others.
“I don’t know,” she sigh, shaking her head and rubbing her temple.
Paige is convinced you’d like to kill her. I mean you must right? Because then and there, before her own eyes, you lean forward and crawl over to her. Paige’s mouth goes dry.
She’s hallucinating. This is some dirty, perverted hallucination. Surely her drink and the party was laced, and she’s gonna wake up in the basement of a frat house right?
Or no, maybe this is God punishing her. For what she’s not sure, but you must be a demon sent to torture her, looking so desperate to please, your tits hanging on for dear life in that tank top just inches away from her.
“Please Paige…” You plead, sitting back on your calves, jusy inches from her, “tell me how to do to make this all better.”
Maybe this is a test. God gives his toughest battles to his toughest soldiers. But apparently God was wrong this time, because Paige simply isn’t strong enough. All she can do is pull you into a kiss, her fingers gripping the hair on the back of your head, surely messing it up. She doesn’t care.
Her mouth opens and she groans. You taste like weed and vodka and gummies and heaven. Yes Paige is certain her theory about a hallucination is correct. But she hopes she never wakes up, and she can spend the rest of her life in this dream like trace where you of all people are sliding their tongue into her mouth. You are kissing her back. Life is unreal.
She’s sitting in her bed, and you’re on your knees in front of her, kissing her back. She pulls away to gasp for breath, but only for a second or so, leaning back in, one hand on your jaw, the other still holding the back of your hair.
She feels like she might explode as she feels your finger tips on her bicep, your nails lightly grazing her skin as your palm wraps around her arm. She’s suddenly thinking about how she skipped weights yesterday. Stupid. She’ll never skip a weight day again after feeling your hand on her muscle.
She practically whimpers into your mouth as your other hand finds her waist. The kiss that keeps on giving she figures.
All good things must come to an end though. That’s never been so evident as when you pull away and not just to gasp for breath, but sit back.
“Somthn’ wrong?” She asks, sitting up a little, completely breathless and dazed.
“I’m tired Paige,” you pout. God that fucking pout… “can we go to sleep?”
“Uh- yeah sure, whatever you want.” And she means it. Paige quite literally would do whatever you wanted, she’s sure of that.
So despite wanting to touch new places on you, see how deep she can get her tongue into your mouth maybe? She’ll lay down and go to sleep because that’s what you want.
You don’t bother changing out of your sequin skirt or washing off your make up, you just lift up her covers and lay down like it’s your own bed. In some ways it kind of is, in the sense that she’d let anything you want be yours.
She carefully slides out of the bed and pads into her bathroom, she brushes her teeth and changes into some better sleep clothes. She’s cautious getting back into bed, worried you might’ve fallen asleep already. She quickly proven wrong and you roll over right away, snugging into her side, one leg draped over hers and your head on her chest.
She freezes, breath hitching. She’s not sure what’s wrong with her. Plenty of girls had gotten clingy and laid on her chest, this wasn’t new to her. So why did you affect her so much?
She watches as you come up and place a soft lazy kiss on her bottom lip, “goodnight Paige…” you murmur softly as you cuddle up on her chest.
You were so soft with her. Why? “Goodnight” she replied softly, your name barely leaving her lips, her voice so hushed. She’d be surprised if she woke up from anything other than a heart attack.
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