what abouttttt, a concept with Aryia or Colby (u choose) where you see eachother at a party and there’s a lot of pining and flirting before they finally kiss at the end
i FEEL like i should write this for aryia bc i haven’t written for him before.........BUT i am simply colby brock’s personal fleshlight bitch so imma write this one for him 😭 i love you so much for sending this in, you’re the best ok 🥺
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You can feel his eyes on you. You don’t even have to look at him, however far behind you he is. He’s somewhere close, though—either standing against a wall, or pretending to listen to a conversation, or cracking open another White Claw with his ring-clad fingers. Whatever he was doing, wherever he was, whoever was around him, there was no doubt in your mind that his eyes were fixated on the curve of your spine.
You periodically moved through the crowd, mingling meaninglessly with other people—flirting whenever you had the chance, and doing it painfully obviously. You weren’t avoiding him. That would be the farthest thing from the truth. This was only the beginning of the little game the two of you played... a cat and mouse dance where the cat was too pussy to catch the mouse. You flirting with others was bait for him to rise to—interesting, how the prey can stalk the predator sometimes.
And it always worked on him. “You seem to be having a lot of fun,” came his voice from behind you. He liked to think he was sneaking up on you. But he was far too predictable.
You looked over your shoulder, barely looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He hated how disinterested you looked. Honestly, if he didn’t make a move soon, you wouldn’t just look the part anymore.
“Nice of you to notice,” you smirked, biting the edge of your red solo cup before taking a sip of your bittersweet drink.
With your side-eye still taunting him, you looked him up and down slowly. You let your eyes linger on certain parts of him, letting him feel the intensity of your gaze, before finally meeting his eyes. You turned to him, crossing one arm over your chest while you let the other dangle at your side, gripping your cup by its rim.
“Surely you didn’t just come over here to comment on how much I’m enjoying this party?” You quirked a brow at him, tilting your head to the side. You were challenging him, once again setting up the opportunity to pounce.
But, as he hadn’t for the last two months, he didn’t take it. He shrugged, frowning comtemplatively. “Maybe I did.”
He turned away from you, your eyes now watching him. You narrowed them at his back, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. Your eyes trailed after him, waiting for him to leave your line of sight before you followed after him. You kept your distance just as he had kept his. You found him again after a few seconds of searching; he was making his way to the kitchen, probably to get another drink. You let him walk ahead of you before going after him.
You walked into a surprisingly empty kitchen to find Colby taking a cold White Claw out of the fridge. You walked over to him, putting your drink down on the counter loud enough to make sure you got his attention. Sure enough, you did. You turned and hopped up to sit on the counter, your legs dangling over the edge as you leaned back onto your hands.
“I like your skirt,” he said, leaning back against the island counters that ran parallel to the ones you were sitting on.
The article of clothing in question had ridden up quite a bit when you jumped up to sit down, leaving much of your legs exposed to him. “Do you? Or do you like what’s under it?”
His cheeks and neck flushed slightly, making you flash him a cocky smile. “Don’t act so smug,” he said, narrowing his eyes.
He pushed himself off the counter, keeping those smoldering eyes on yours as he stepped closer.
“Why shouldn’t I? I’ve got you all flustered.” You tried not to look affected by him as he continued to close the distance between you, but with every inch, more butterflies raged in your stomach.
He stopped less than a centimeter away from your knees, the closest he’d been to you since you’d started playing this game with each other. You weren’t sure what the objective of it was, since neither of you ever acted on these advances—they only got more intense as time went on. And now was no different.
You held eye contact with him, not flinching away from his azure stare. However, because of this, you hadn’t noticed his hand moving towards you until his fingertips brushed against your knee, barely making contact. Suddenly, his fingers were curled around your calf and he was pulling you to the edge of the counter, now situated between your legs. You drew in a sharp breath, your right hand shooting out to clutch his shoulder. You barely registered his movements before his lips were next to your neck, his breath fanning against your skin, tickling you in the most sensual way. You remained completely still, stunned by how quickly things had escalated.
With his lips now next to your ear, he whispered lowly, “Who’s flustered now?”
And just as fast as he had put himself between your legs, he was gone—his retreating form going back to the crowded party a few steps away. You caught your breath for a second, calming your heart rate. You closed your legs subconsciously, worried someone might see the wet spot on your panties, before jumping off the counter and grabbing your drink again. You chugged what was left of it, welcoming the burning sensation. With a final steadying breath, you moved back out to the party to pursue the source and target of your desire.
You wandered through the crowd, dancing around groups of people with your eyes darting around for any sign of Colby. You looked around for a few minutes, starting to feel frustrated when you couldn’t find him. Because of this, you were startled when a hand rested against your waist, and even more surprised when the pressure of three rings was evident against your skin. He never managed to sneak up on you.
“Lost?” he asked mockingly, pulling your body against his.
You pressed yourself against him in response, moving your hips in time with the music. “No, only wandering.”
“Really? You seemed to be looking for someone,” he said, leaning down to rest his chin against your shoulder.
“Maybe I was,” you said, the alcohol you’d chugged giving you the edge you were looking for. “Maybe I still am.”
“Oh?” he replied, the hand on your waist gripping you tighter. “Who are you looking for?”
“I’m looking for someone who won’t just flirt with me for two months without making a move; someone who won’t start something he knows he doesn’t have the balls to finish—”
Before you could get your next words out, the hand on your waist was spinning you around and the softest pair of lips you’d ever felt were on yours. You relaxed into his embrace, lifting your hands up to wrap them around his neck. Your fingers laced themselves through his hair, pulling at the strands just enough to tease him. Your tongues met and a hint of the flavors of your last drink and his combined, leaving the ghost of the taste behind. You moaned into his mouth and it was enough to get him to bite your lip just hard enough to make you moan a little louder.
He pulled away from you a little breathlessly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Let’s get out of here so I can show you a thing or two about balls and finishing.”
