🍒why so sexy if so dumb?🍒

Open starter for Sawyer Sullivan (Jacob Elordi fc)

“So you decided to help yourself to whatever in my kitchen,” Nova said, a small, knowing smirk tugging at her lips as she leaned casually against the counter, clearly more amused than annoyed. “Not your own stuff, just the groceries I brought yesterday.” A soft chuckle slipped out, light and teasing rather than sharp. She tilted her head slightly, studying them with playful curiosity. “Does it taste good at least?” she added, her tone warm.

open: f // mutuals & non-mutuals

closed starter for @brokensbcys | violet x greyson

Greyson stepped into the room with a casual confidence that felt almost rehearsed, the faint crinkle of a half-empty bag of salt and vinegar potato chips breaking the silence as he chewed, his gaze settling on Violet with a sharp, assessing edge. “I wasn’t that long,” he muttered, though his narrowed eyes suggested he was already searching for signs of disobedience. He crossed the space slowly, deliberately, as if savouring the control he held, and extended the open bag toward her with a gesture that might have seemed kind if not for the tension behind it. The sharp tang of vinegar hung faintly in the air. “You been behaving yourself?” he asked, his tone deceptively light, though the question carried weight. He already knew the answer, because he had arranged things carefully, ensuring she couldn’t leave, couldn’t interfere, couldn’t do much of anything without his say. Still, he watched her closely.

blake was pretty good at reading other people - or at least, reading women. and his liar alarms were going off, but for her sake, he played along. he was amused by this interaction, by this woman - he didn't want to scare her away by calling her a liar or acting like she had some ulterior motive to watching him fuck another woman. "i see." he said slowly, measured. while her gaze moved to other things in the room, his stayed steady on her, piercing. "she's not my girlfriend." blake stepped forward as she moved backwards, keeping the distance between them the same. "i don't do girlfriends. because then i wouldn't be able to have conversations like this, which i am very much enjoying," he said, corner of his lip raised in a smirk. "what's so wrong about this conversation, anyway? i'm quite flattered by it."

Cove crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her posture guarded as she listened to Blake. She bit down on her bottom lip, a habit that surfaced whenever her thoughts started racing faster than she could filter them, and tilted her head slightly. “So what are you two then?” she asked, her tone trying for casual but landing somewhere closer to probing. There was a brief pause before she continued, unable to stop herself now that the question had formed. “Do the two of you just hook up?” Her brows knit together faintly, searching their expressions for any hint of honesty. “Is it like a no-strings-attached type of thing?” she added, the words tumbling out as curiosity got the better of her, though there was an undercurrent of something more. "I ask a lot of questions, you've probably realized that at this point." She grinned.

It was no secret to Tim that he was something of a comfort person, a safe space for El- and that feeling was entirely mutual. His hand moves, but outward to rest on the side of her hip as he listens to her recapitulate the events of the evening before his arrival. Another sip, and he's chuckling into the rim of the glass as she mentions getting her mic cut off. "Me- flirting? No- I just got a call I had been waiting on when heading out-- decided to take it, ended up being longer than expected. And for that I'm sorry. I really wanted to see your presentation..." Tim pouts feeling a bit bad and knocks his head against hers in a playful nature.

Eleanora reached up and gently rubbed at a faint mark on Tim’s shoulder, her touch light and absentminded as if she were trying to fix something small and harmless. “It’s okay,” she said softly, her tone easing into something playful. “When I have to do another one, I’ll make sure I practise it with you so you can see every single bit of it.” She teased him with a small grin, trying to lift the mood and brush off any lingering tension. As she shifted closer, she leaned into his side, her arm slipping naturally around his waist in a comfortable, familiar way. “I didn’t realise people were going to get so wasted,” she admitted, shaking her head a little. “Maybe I should’ve toned the drinks down a bit.” Her smile lingered though, more amused than concerned, as if the chaos around them was already becoming a story she would laugh about later.

"no.. actually, i don't, and that's the problem! we are going round and round in circles. i feel like we have these ridiculous arguments all the time. but you don't seem to tell me what is going in your head, and i am not a mind reader. it was a mutual choice to be non exclusive, not just on me. so if there are feelings there, i cannot be blamed for not knowing when you don't talk to me. so sue me for wanting to kiss someone who actually vocalises to me that he wants me.. funnily enough i didn't pick him randomly in order to upset or irritate you."

Bryn pressed his foot firmly against the door, stopping Sadie from leaving before she had the chance to slip away. He wasn’t trying to trap her, but he also wasn’t ready to let the conversation end the way it always did, with unfinished thoughts and silence he would end up carrying alone. His jaw tightened as he looked at her, conflicted between frustration and something more vulnerable he rarely let show. He kept too much bottled up, always had, and it was starting to feel unbearable. “You don’t tell me what’s going on in your head either,” he argued, his voice rough but steady. “Conversations don’t work just one way.” He frowned, dragging a hand through his hair in a restless motion, the tension in his shoulders giving away how much this mattered to him. The words came out before he could stop them, more honest than he usually allowed himself to be. “I’ve liked you for months. Hell, could’ve been half a year at this point.” The admission hung in the air between them, heavy and unfiltered, as Bryn finally went quiet and waited, not moving his foot from the door.

It wasn’t hard for Aurora to gain attention, if she wanted it – sometimes even if she didn’t. Sometimes, it was the reason she liked those smaller, hole-in-the-wall bars where she could kind of hide, if she desired. Most wouldn’t understand her life, simply think she was some over privileged princess complaining about her family’s extensive wealth. Perhaps that had some validity, but there was also a lot of pressure, especially from her father. When she was younger, there was some drama and trauma, too – things she didn’t handle particularly well, at times. All she wanted was to be seen for herself, and her little escapes to places people wouldn’t know her, especially immediately, that was a reprieve from it all. Large eyes drifted up to Bryn, a playful little smile on her lips, “I think I remember that,” she teased. He was still far too intoxicating – moreso than the alcohol in her hand. Lips pressed together, eyes dropping briefly because she had a secret and was attempting to figure out how to tell him. “Yeah? Maybe you should pull up a seat,” she offered.

Bryn looked at Aurora with an intensity that had always made people feel heard. One-on-one conversations were where he thrived; he had a habit of giving someone his full attention, acknowledging what they said with a small nod while maintaining steady eye contact. It wasn't intimidating so much as focused, as though every word mattered enough for him to hold onto it. As Aurora spoke, he listened in that same way, leaning back slightly with one hand resting near the small glass in front of him. The moment she mentioned having a child, one of his eyebrows lifted. Confusion flashed across his face, but he stayed quiet, waiting for her to continue. Then she said it was his daughter. Bryn blinked once before pointing at his own chest. "My daughter?" he repeated, unable to stop the surprised laugh that escaped him. The sound was genuine, disbelieving. His head shook automatically as though dismissing the possibility before he had even processed it. "You're kidding right?" he asked, dimples appearing in the familiar indentations of his cheeks as a grin pulled at his mouth. His first instinct was that someone was playing a joke on him. People messed around all the time, exaggerated stories, twisted details.

Selene knew sometimes she could be perceived as maybe a lot. It’s not like she was always just on and intense, she had her calm and quiet moments. That’s what made her who she was. She just let herself be herself and didn’t care what anybody thought. She wasn’t intimidated in the slightest by Dean’s open and flirtatious nature or Garrett’s more reserved but still silently intense ways. It was like they both played to all her sides and she liked that. Her back is forced flat against the mattress when Dean tugs her to be closer to him and a breathy laugh falls from her lips before it turns into a shaky moan. Kissing Garrett, her soft whimpers are swallowed by his mouth. She feels his large hand cupping at her breast, her rosy pink buds peeking up from being exposed now. She smooths her hand down his front, feeling the warm skin of his abdomen against her fingertips. She stops when she reaches the front of his jeans and she palms at him through the rough material. “Off.” The one word instruction is panted out into the passionate kiss, Selene wanting to be able to actually touch him. Her other hand reaches down so she can tangle her fingers in Dean’s blonde locks, always liking to have something to grab on to. “Fuck,” she moans. “Are you hard for me?” She murmurs, the question directed at both. Her hips rolls easily, showing that she wanted more.