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"Oakley, come on! We've gotta check out more than just the pool!" You exclaim, watching your friend as he continues to ignore you and swim laps. The two of you had just arrived at his aunt's villa up in Tuscany, and Oakley had decided for both of you that the most important thing at that point was seeing the pool. You, however, stayed fully clothed when he'd thrown off his shirt and dove in, choosing not to join him. "Babyyyy," he calls, drawing out your pet name with a whine as he swims over to cross his arms on the edge. "You're so fuckin’ boring, y'know that?"
You roll your eyes and sit at the edge beside him, not making any reaction when he moves between your legs to grin up at you. That same shit-eating grin he'd given you since you were kids. It always got you to fold before. He places his wet hands on your thighs, pushing himself up just slightly and biting his bottom lip lightly at the feel of your soft flesh under his palms. "Come swim for a minute, huh? I'll make it worth your while," he coos, subconsciously licking his lips as he sees you shift slightly. You push off his hands with a scoff and a laugh. He dramatically places a hand on his chest and falls back in the water with a groan of dramatized anguish.
"You wound me, love. Truly wound me," he pouts, watching you stand. His eyes couldn't help but wander over your tank top and shorts before they met yours again. "You'll get over it," you tease back, flashing a smile before walking off. You don't turn around when you hear water splashing and footsteps catching up with you.
However, before you could take another step towards the villa, two strong arms wrap around your middle and lift you, eliciting a yelp of surprise from your lips. "Don't you dare!" is the only thing you can exclaim before you're tossed into the warm waters of the pool.
Your first instinct is to rise with the bubbles, flailing your arms in a panic as Oakley's laughs fill your ears. You can maybe get one gasp before you sink back down, your soaked clothes mixed with an inability to swim, shooting a sense of horror up your body. Desperate to get back to the top, you sink again until your feet hit the floor, then you surge upwards towards where you believed the wall was. Oakley's laughs fade as he notices your struggle, confusion replacing the pride in pranking you before it quickly fades into urgency.
Holy shit. You can't swim.
“Oh, fuck!” He dives in instantly, an arm quickly wrapping around your waist before he swims towards the wall and grabs it. The boy holds you to his chest, watching in guilt and fear as you cough and sputter. "Hey... Babe, it's okay, breathe, I've got you." You can hardly hear his voice over the pounding of your heart and your desperate gasps for air. All you can do is cling tighter to him as he pulls you over to the shallow section. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, love, are you okay?" He asks once your breath has calmed. You give a small nod, your face heating up in embarrassment.
"I'm fine... I'm sorry-"
"Don't fucking apologize, idiot. I'm just happy you're okay, you really fucking scared me..." he cuts you off, cupping your face and forcing you to meet his gaze. You stare at each other for a moment before he lets out a frustrated growl and presses his lips to yours.
This isn't the first time you've kissed. Not even the third time. Yet it was the first time that it'd been with so much fervor and passion poured out into every movement of his lips against yours. You can't help the soft sound that vibrates into the kiss as you feel his hands start to wander. One moves into your hair to keep you from pulling away, though you could if you tried, the other slips down to the small of your back to press your body to his. A groan escapes his lips as he feels your hips press into the tent in his shorts, your hands moving to his shoulders before one slips into his soft, soaked curls.
Oakley can't help but whine as you pull away, chasing your lips before craning his neck to press kisses to your jaw. His lips trail down your neck, then back up to the corner of your jaw, teeth scraping slightly to earn another quiet moan. Your hand tightens in his hair slightly as his slides from your hair down to your tank top. Warm skin brushes your waist beneath the fabric, and you arch into his touch by instinct as his fingers slide up to your bra. Only then does Oakley pause and pull back to look at you.
"Tell me no, and I'll stop," he says firmly, looking for any sign of hesitation in your eyes.
Your silence tells him everything as he kisses you again, his palm moving up to the lacey fabric covering your breasts and fingers wrapping around it carefully. Another soft moan escapes into the kiss as his tongue slides against your lips, requesting entrance. Your lips part in a soft gasp as he grasps your breast, his tongue plunging into your mouth to taste what he's been wanting for months, if not years. Every kiss is a declaration of the need he's been hiding from you. His other hand moves from the small of your back to splay across your stomach, fingers teasing the hem of your shorts before sliding under with ease.
The kiss deepens as his hand moves between your shorts and panties to tease the soaked skin between your legs. His fingers find your clit quickly, rubbing against it through wet fabric and quickening slightly at the sounds that bubble up into his mouth from yours. You shift your hips, trying to create more friction, and whine when his fingers pull away. His mouth leaves yours to kiss and suck at the column of your neck as his hand moves under your panties, the other grasping at flesh hidden by your bra.
"Fuck... Oakley..." You whine out softly, head falling back to give him room as his hand moves lower. Your breath hitches when his fingers brush the bundle of nerves between your legs, a soft groan escaping his lips. "You're so fuckin' wet..." he breathes out against your neck, his voice lower and coarse from desire as he buries his nose into your neck. "We're in a pool, obviously I-" Your words are cut off by a sharp inhale as he pushes a finger into your needy pussy.
Another moan escapes you as he presses another finger and pushes them up to his knuckles inside you, a groan leaving his own lips into your neck, "fuck, you're fucking tight too..." Your hips grind down slightly into his hand, needing more friction as he curls his fingers just right, the tips brushing your sweet spot that makes your head fall back again. His lips curl into that smug grin against your skin as his kisses trail down to your collarbone, his fingers pumping in and out of you at a steady, moan-inducing pace. As his kisses get lower, his grin widens before he buries his face into the perfect cleavage held by your tank top.
He groans again against your chest as his fingers pick up their pace, curling with every stroke against your tight walls. You feel a knot forming in your gut the longer this goes on, and you finally let out a moan and close your eyes tight when his thumb presses down on your clit. Your walls squeeze his fingers, coating them in white cream as you shudder slightly. You can't help but whine quietly when his fingers pull out of you, his lips finding yours again.
"Oakley? You out here, hon?" A voice calls from inside the villa, his aunt Verena nearing the doors. The blonde pulls away from you quickly, leaving you aching for more as he wraps an arm around your waist. His free hand rests on his hip, his usual smug grin tugging at his swollen lips as he glances at the doors. "Yea, we're out here!" Oakley shouts back, his smile tense. 'Five more minutes and you'd be screaming my name, I swear to fuck-'
He grunts slightly, his dick throbbing against your thigh through his shorts. He wanted you so fucking bad. You shift and pull away from him slightly, not noticing his hands reaching for you hesitantly as you get out of the pool. "We should go inside..." you mutter, missing the flash of disappointment on his face before his hands drop to adjust himself. He agrees, getting out with you and offering you his towel. "Sorry for throwing you in there like that, love," he apologizes, looking at you analytically.
"Don't be," you shrug with a smile, meeting his gaze. "If you hadn't... then none of that would've happened."
And with that, you're walking off to the back doors of the villa and heading inside. He lets out a weak laugh and runs a hand through his hair. "You're gonna be the fuckin’ death of me..." he thinks aloud, slipping his shirt back on and adjusting himself once more before following after you.
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“Oh, now that you’re inside, would you two please set the table for me?” Verena asks as we walk in. Oakley rolls his eyes but nods and grabs the silverware while you glance at the table. “Is it all right if I go change? My clothes are soaked because someone thought it’d be funny to throw me into the pool fully clothed.” You shoot a playful glare at your best friend for good measure while his aunt nods. “Of course, sweetheart. Dinner will be ready in 15.”
You give a small smile, spare one more glance to Oakley—who was leaning over the table slightly and watching you closely—then head upstairs to your room.
Once you finally pull your soaked tank top off, the fabric clinging too tightly to your body for you to easily peel it off, you let out a sigh of relief and toss it over the bed frame. It’d have to dry before you put it in the laundry.
“Smooth fuckin’ way of getting out of work. Wish I thought of it,” a voice teases from behind you. You turn to see that same shit-eating grin as hands carefully close your bedroom door. A soft laugh escapes you as your arms cross over your chest. Oakley’s eyes almost immediately dart down, his teeth catching his bottom lip again as he watches you subconsciously push your chest together. You have no idea what you do to him, do you?
Neither of you realizes how close he is until he’s sat you down on the edge of the bed, kneeling between your legs as chlorine and arousal fill his nose. “Fuck, y’know, you’re so pretty… so fuckin’ beautiful, love,” he mutters, leaning in to press soft kisses to your inner thigh. His hands move to your shorts, lightly tugging on them as he glances up at you through his lashes. A silent question is clear in his eyes.
And who are you to deny him?
You lift your hips just enough, his hands tugging your shorts off and tossing them elsewhere. You’re left in your underwear and a bra, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious as his eyes rake over you. It doesn’t take long for him to notice part of the reason why.
His fingers run lightly along the faded white lines along your upper thighs, ones you’d made years ago when you didn’t know what else to do with the emotions your parents left you with. However, he doesn’t reel back in disgust, doesn’t change his mind, doesn’t ask about them. He traces them carefully, like you’re something to be worshipped rather than just fucked, before his lips press lightly to one. Then another. Then another. He peppers every scar with a kiss, washing away your nervousness quickly before he’s tugging on the hem of your panties.
“You haven’t done this before, right?” He asks, looking up at you again. You shyly shake your head no, and his grin softens into a smile. “Good.”
And with that, he pulls off the final barrier and pulls you to the edge of the bed, giving you one final glance to ensure you’re sure about this. When he nods, he throws caution to the wind and kisses a trail up to your throbbing, wet heat. Your hand shoots into his hair as his tongue runs up your slit, your other arm holding you up as you bite back a moan. The second his mouth is on you, he bites back a groan at the heady taste on his tongue. Fuck, he could stay between your thighs like this for the rest of his life and never tire from the taste. He’s been with other girls before, but this? This was different.
This was you.
And he was going to make the most of it. Especially when he can hear those little sounds just aching to be let out. “Don’t- fuck… Don’t be shy, darling… let me hear your pretty fuckin’ sounds,” he purrs from between your legs, another louder moan escaping your lips as his tongue flicks at the sensitive bundle of nerves. Oakley can’t help but grin as your thighs clench around his head, his hands coming up to push against it lightly before one slips further towards the apex of your hips.
His fingers find their way back into you as his mouth shifts focus onto your clit, providing licks and sucks that elicit louder sounds the closer you get. His other hand shifts to your hip, gripping gently on the soft skin there as he pulls you closer. You can’t help but rut your hips into his face, desperate for the friction only he can provide as that knot builds in your gut again. It wasn’t long before your orgasm washed over you, your back arching and eyes closing as you mewl out his name. He doesn’t stop his movements, however, determined to prolong the feeling almost to the point of pain before he finally pulls away.
You watch as he sits back on his heels and licks his lips before popping his fingers into his mouth and sucking off the intoxicating taste. Another groan escapes his lips at the liquid on his fingers and tongue, the flavor something to be savored. He could spend his entire life between your legs if you wanted him to. And the sight in front of him, fuck… he could stare at you for hours.
Your legs are still slightly spread, your eyes are closed, and your hands are now barely holding you up. Your head had fallen back, exposing your neck, which had now been sprinkled with hickeys and bruises, your lips part slightly, and your breath is heavy. “So fucking gorgeous,” he mutters without thinking, standing and pressing his lips to yours again. As you melt into the kiss, he slowly pushes you down onto the bed and slots himself between your legs. Oakley groans quietly as your hands slide under his shirt and tug lightly on the fabric, the kiss breaking only so he could remove it before his mouth finds yours again.
Your hands roam along his chest, a gentle desperation in every touch. His hips grind into yours, his need for you clear in each movement as his lips trail down to your neck again. “Fuck… Fucking hell, love… I need to be inside you…” He moans into your skin, leaving another bite that’d definitely bruise. Your teeth catch your bottom lip as he pulls away from you entirely to stand and pull off his shorts, taking his boxers with them and leaving him bare.
You’ve seen him change before, you’ve seen him naked when you went skinny dipping, and yet… You can’t help how your face flushes at the sight of him. All firm planes and toned muscles. His hand strokes his thick cock twice, precum already leaking out and making your face heat even more. Oakley crawls on top of you again, biting his lip lightly. “You just tell me if you need to stop, yeah?”
You nod, and he lines himself up with your hips. With a final glance at you, he pushes into your tight pussy and bites back a groan at the feeling. Your lips part in a sharp gasp, and he stills, the tip already stretching you a fair amount. After a second, he slowly inches further in, watching your reaction and pausing every time you wince. Finally, he bottoms out and lets out a moan at how you squeeze him.
“Fuck… Oakley…” You whine out quietly, the burning feeling of him stretching your virgin pussy causing more pain than pleasure. He tries to make it better by peppering your face and neck with kisses, carefully rolling his hips ever so slightly to help you get adjusted. Once your whines and winces fade into mewls and moans, he pulls out a bit, then slowly thrusts back in. The noise you let out conveys nothing but pleasure. Oakley grins and starts thrusting into you at a steady pace, his lips running along your neck, and his teeth scraping and bruising the sensitive skin. As your sounds get louder and your back arches into his chest, a realization hits you.
Holy shit. You’re shagging your best friend.
He seems to have the same realization as he meets your gaze, his hips stuttering slightly before speeding up a bit. You feel his hand slide down your chest to your clit, rubbing the sensitive area with a determination to get you off first—though, of course, it was difficult not to cum with how tight you were. “You’re so fucking tight…” he grunts out, his other hand gripping your hip almost hard enough to bruise as your hands grip his shoulders. “So fucking perfect for me…”
The praise only seems to make things hotter, your head falling back and eyes closing in ecstasy as he pulls out almost entirely before thrusting right back into you. He moans out your name, his voice cracking slightly as his eyes close for a second before he continues the previous pace. Every inch of his body screams to slam into you full force, to chase his own pleasure, but he holds back. He needs this to be perfect for you. He needs to be perfect for you.
With every deep thrust, every creak of your bed below you, every wet sound that fills your ears, you feel that knot in your stomach tighten more and more. He can feel you getting close, your walls fluttering around him as your back arches more into his chest. With a final press of his fingers onto your clit, a bite on the sweet spot of your neck, and a particularly rough thrust, you’re sent over the edge. You moan out his name, your legs trembling and body clenching around him as he follows you right over. Oakley buries deep inside you as his orgasm hits him, still moving but at a lazier pace to help you both ride it out. A warm feeling envelops you, and you swear you can feel him pulsing inside you as he stills.
When he finally stops moving, it’s to collapse onto your chest and bury his face into your neck. A strong scent of sweat, sex, and something that’s uniquely you fills his nose, and he can’t help but nuzzle closer as his arms wrap around your waist. The two of you stay like that for a while. Your hand runs through his hair, the other tracing up and down his back as he holds you close to him.
You just fucked your best friend… and neither of you had any regrets about it.
“Mm… you okay, darling?” He finally asks, his voice deeper and almost rough as he nuzzles further into your neck. You nod, pulling him a bit closer in contentment. He hums again and mutters something about you being “bloody perfect” before your eyes close. The two of you drift off, completely forgetting about dinner.
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“Oakley? Have you seen-”
“She’s upstairs,” Oakley mutters, sitting down at the dinner table. He’d woken up rather quickly after everything and decided not to wake you. You’d looked so perfect asleep, covered in his marks; who was he to ruin that? “Asleep. I doubt she’d want to be woken for dinner.”
Verena nods as she sits beside Oakley’s father, who seems less convinced. However, he makes no mention of it, and they all eat their meal with light conversation. Meanwhile, all Oakley can think about is how you sounded, how you looked, how you tasted, gosh, normal food could never compare again to your taste…
It was just a one-off thing, right? You two have kissed before and stayed friends; why should sex change anything? Yet part of him, a naive, idiotic, head over heels part of him, wanted so much more than just friendship with you. It’s been that way for a while… and every other time, he’d been able to distract himself with another girl.
But now?
No more distractions… no more flings and short-lived relationships to distract him from the unfamiliar feeling in his heart whenever he caught your gaze. No more late nights to hide in while all he could imagine was how you’d feel beneath him instead of Elena, or Jackie, or Lenora, or any other girl he’d been with, because now he’s seen it. He’s seen you. In a way nobody else has. And that changes things whether he likes it or not.
He just had to hope it didn’t change things negatively for you.
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Your eyes fluttered open to see your bedroom empty. Silence filled the room, save for your soft breathing as you glanced around. “Oakley?” You say quietly, still waking up a bit. Eventually, you sit up and run a hand through your hair before glancing at the window to see the moon glowing back at you. “Ugh… what time is it?” you wonder aloud, swinging your legs over the edge of the bed and standing up before falling back quickly.
As your eyes find the clock on the wall, your face heats up with memories of what’d happened before you fell asleep. Were things going to be different now? Was he going to treat you differently? If he doesn’t, should you act any differently around him?
Your thoughts are cut off by a knock on your door. You glance over to see the culprit of your inner spiral leaning against the doorframe with a lazy grin. “You up for a swim?” He offers, nodding to the hallway.
“Did you forget what happened last time I tried to swim?” You tease back, grateful for the blanket you’d covered yourself with. He was dressed in a light blue button-up that only had a few buttons fastened, the rest showing off his toned chest perfectly, and swim trunks. Oakley shrugs and moves over to your closet. He clearly doesn’t care about what he might find as he starts to rummage through your belongings before gasping dramatically and holding something up. “Where the fuck have you been hiding this, love? This is mad sexy, you’ve gotta wear this one,” he tosses the fabric at you, and you quickly recognize it to be the black constellation-themed bikini that you’d bought on a whim. You’d yet to ever wear it out, the fabric revealing more skin than your typically modest wardrobe would’ve allowed for.
“No way,” you state back firmly, watching as he stands and leans against your closet door. The two of you stare at each other for a second before he shrugs. “C’mon, wear it. It’s not like anyone else is gonna see us.”
After a couple more seconds, you sigh and shake your head. “Fine.” You meet his gaze again and raise a brow as he makes no move to leave. “...I gotta change-”
“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he cuts you off, shrugging with that shit-eating grin he knows you adore. However, you roll your eyes and gesture to the door, staying adamant on him leaving. Oakley groans and lets his head fall back in fake frustration before he very slowly leaves your room and cracks the door. Once you’d thought he left, you stood from the bed and let the blanket fall from your form.
A shaky breath is audible from the hallway, and you glare over at the pair of eyes that lingered before they widen and run off. You can’t help the soft giggle that escapes you before you slip on the bikini bottoms and tie the top, adjusting your chest to suit the outfit. After shaking your hands out twice, you head out into the hall to see Oakley leaning against his aunt’s bedroom door with his arms crossed and his shirt now discarded. His eyes ogle you for a second, lingering on your chest and hips, before he shakes his head and grins again. “Told you it’s sexy,” he teases as you approach. You feel him sling an arm around your waist and pull you into his side.
Oakley presses a quick peck to your temple and guides you downstairs. “So… You gonna just sit on the edge and watch me like a bloody bore, or do you wanna finally learn how to swim? Up to you, sweetheart,” he hums, looking down at you. You shrug and look up at him. “... You wanna teach me to swim?” You ask, meeting his gaze before he nods eagerly with a dorky smile.
“Of course I do. Can’t have you almost fucking drowning every time I toss you in the pool,” he shrugs, opening the back door for you before trailing after you through the grass. A small smirk plays on his lips as you near the edge of the pool, but he restrains himself nonetheless. Oakley runs over and jumps in right beside you, startling you and causing you to jump back slightly. The warm water splashes up, and a few droplets hit you before you sit cross-legged at the edge and fold your arms at him.
The boy comes back up and grins at you, swimming over to cross his arms over the edge beside you. “Y’know… you’ll have to come in here eventually,” he hums, looking up at you through his lashes. You shake your head with a weak laugh, and he wraps an arm around your hips. Slowly, he drags you closer to the edge while you grip the stones desperately and shake your head. “Oakley, no. No no no nononono-”
You’re cut off as you’re suddenly submerged under the water, the only thing pulling you back up being Oakley’s arm firm around your waist. You come up flailing slightly before your hands grip his shoulders tightly, and you gasp for air. Your friend laughs as you sputter and try to breathe. “Fuckin’ hell, calm down, I’ve got you,” he exclaims with another chuckle, pulling you closer to him to show he’s not gonna let you sink. You let out ragged breaths and cling a bit tighter to him before finally your breath evens. “I don’t know why I let you do this to me…” You huff, shaking your head at him slightly. Oakley laughs softly and pulls you towards the shallower end so your feet can touch the floor. “Here,” he says, letting go only when he knows you feel safe enough, though he stays incredibly close.
You spend a short while learning the basics of swimming, learning to backstroke, float, tread water, and butterfly before his hands wandered too far and his lips were on yours again. You were lucky you had the pool to muffle every rough movement, his hand covering your mouth as he kissed along your neck.
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The next morning, you wake on one of the lawn chairs, limbs tangled with Oakley’s while he sleeps peacefully. The two of you are covered by a towel, though you’re still clothed by your swimsuits at least. He had one hand in your hair, the other cupping your chest under your bikini top. You can’t help the small smile that tugs at your lips as you remember the events of last night. Is this how the whole vacation is going to be? Stolen nights together, whispered words of affection when nobody else can listen, a solution to loneliness that nobody else can provide?
The first time wasn’t a mistake. Not like you’d suspected. But, it’s normal for close friends like them, right? Eventually, it leads to that kind of closeness, but it doesn’t mean you’re in love with each other. No, certainly not. You loved him… platonically… and you wanted him in your bed every night, not even just to shag but to hold, to be held, to be loved… platonically. Because that’s all this is, right? Just two best mates who sleep together now. Who’ve made out once or twice at the occasional party. Two friends who shared their first kiss when they were in 7th grade, sitting under a willow tree at recess and fooling around. Two best friends who got close to making out back stage during the intermission of your 10th-grade production of Guys and Dolls because you’d just found out your boyfriend cheated on you. Two close friends who share drinks and food, and even clothes sometimes, because you like how he dresses, and he gets into the funniest games of truth or dare.
And yet, as you look at him, you can’t help the butterflies in your stomach from fluttering around.
After carefully slipping away from Oakley, waking him slightly in the process but convincing him he was just dreaming, you head back inside to see Verena and Oakley’s father are already awake and roaming around. “Oh, good morning, hon. What’s with the swimsuit?” The older man asks, raising a brow as he quickly looks you over. You shrug and smile weakly, muttering something about an early morning swim before heading upstairs. Boy, were you lucky they didn’t mention the bruises littered across your neck.
Getting into your bedroom, you glance around for a second. Maybe you could convince Oakley to go out into the markets with you. The idea made you smile a bit wider, imagining your best friend carrying around all of your bags and the things you buy. The idea becomes more ideal the more you think about it.
Moving over to the closet, you think more about what your relationship friendship relationship with Oakley is now. You weren’t complaining if you were technically friends with benefits now. Though that sounds superficial, like you’re using each other for sex, which you’re not… It’s just… an added benefit to your friendship.
You shrug and grab a black skirt and matching tank top, slipping the clothes on over your dry swimsuit in case you go “swimming” again later. The mirror in the bathroom revealed yet another problem to be solved. Oakley had definitely made his mark, and now you had to figure out how to cover them. By the time you get back downstairs, Oakley is at the table with his aunt and father, eating breakfast. He was mentioning inviting your friend group—Archie, Badge, Jack, all of them—next year, and you smiled slightly at the mention of your other friends. “We should totally bring them along next year!” You say brightly, sitting beside Oakley and glancing over the options that range from sweet chocolate chip pancakes to savory omelettes and bacon. The boy nods and looks you over once with a small grin, the grin faltering slightly as he notices your neck is clear. It was as if he’d been hoping to see those love bites, which was insane, right? As you meet his gaze, you remember your idea from before and mirror his grin. “You wanna go explore a bit? I’d love to check out the stores,” you hum, batting your eyes at him dramatically before laughing softly. He blinks twice, then shrugs with a soft, “Sure, sweetheart.”
You have to force down the fluttering in your stomach at the pet name. It wasn’t anything new; he calls you stuff like that all the time. Calm down.
The two of you stand, and you follow after him as he makes his way upstairs to his room. He doesn’t even bother to close his door, walking in and grabbing something to change into before glancing at you. “You can come in, y’know. Don’t worry about sneaking a peek, I know I’m fucking sexy. You can look all you want,” he teases, your face heating slightly at his implication. “I wasn’t planning on-”
“Yes, you were, darling,” he cuts you off, gesturing you closer. You simply roll your eyes and walk up to him, watching his hands as he slowly pulls his shirt off. This felt different than before, more intimate and personal. You feel your face heat up and meet his gaze to see the same pink dusting his cheeks. The two of you shyly smiled at each other as he stepped a bit closer, hooking a finger under your chin so you couldn’t look away.
He licks his lips subconsciously, leaning in closer slightly with a softer smile. “Darling, I… I think I-”
“Oakley!” His dad calls from downstairs, cutting off his words. Oakley’s face flushes suddenly, and he yanks away from you like he’d been burned. He stammers out a quick apology before putting on the first shirt and shorts he can find and heading downstairs. You stand still for a moment, processing it all. What was he about to say? You didn’t want to spiral into delusions like usual, so you shake it off for now and trail downstairs to hear Oakley talking to his father. He was trying to explain the plans that both of you had made, and his father had his arms crossed. “I’d prefer if you two stayed here for today,” he says firmly, earning a refusal from the younger boy.
“C’mon, Dad, we’ll be safe.”
The older man glances at you for a second before he sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Be back for dinner.” You quickly nod and grab Oakley’s hand, dragging him out before he can say anything else. He laughs lightly as you pull him out to the front of the villa and glance around, his eyes staying trained on you even when yours aren’t reciprocating.
You’re just too much of a sight not to stare at.
He smiles a bit more once you meet his gaze before he nods towards the street and holds out his hand. You take it, mirroring his smile, and let him guide you down to the shops and streets bustling with people. The two of you make your way through two shops before you realize that, in your haste, you’d left your wallet back at the villa. Sadly, this revelation hits you right as you notice a beautiful silver necklace on display. Not to mention, it’s 20% off.
“Shoot, Oakley, I totally forgot my wallet, can you-”
“Yeah, sure, I’ll pay for you,” he says, not even batting an eye at the idea as he follows your line of sight to the display. “You want that?” You quickly shake your head with a soft laugh, “I wasn’t asking you to pay for me, I was just gonna ask if you’d be willing to wait for me while I grab it.”
He turns quickly and places his hands on your shoulders. “Babe. No. It’s no big deal, I can buy you stuff. Besides, the streets aren’t safe enough for a girl like you.”
“A girl like me?” You raise a brow, looking up at him analytically. His eyes widen slightly, and he shrugs, dropping his hands from your shoulders. “Y’know… pretty. Fun. Not to mention short.” That got you laughing and swatting his shoulder as you try to protest. He grins and rolls his eyes before leaning an arm on the top of your head to prove his point. You scoff, but silence your rebuttals.
Eventually, you’ve watched Oakley spend half his money on things that you’d pointed out or mentioned, and you couldn’t help but feel bad. He’d never let you repay him, not with money at least. Sitting on one of the sidewalks where some people were already hanging out, you watch your best friend purchase some street food and carry it over. “Okay, you’ve got two choices. And I think I know which one you’re not going to pick,” he says, holding up the two options. Oakley gestures to one–a toasted bread with a weird brown spread on it—and talks again, “This is crostini toscani. It’s toast with sautéed chicken liver and some other herbs and stuff on it.” Your grimace tells him everything, and he hands you the other option, which was simple chickpea flatbread. “Farinata, then.”
You smile slightly and take a bite, feeling a little self-conscious from how his eyes linger on you. A soft, albeit awkward, laugh escapes you as you watch him for a second before glancing away. His eyes never left you for too long now. “Y’know… your dad said we had to be back for dinner, right?” You ask after a few minutes of taking in the sounds of the streets. Oakley nods and leans toward you slightly in curiosity. “But Italians have their dinner late, like 8:30-9:00 pm, right?”
The boy grins, catching on quickly, “Yea, we can technically stay out as late as we want… Go wherever we want…” You nod, and he stands, holding a hand out to you. As you take it and stand, his other hand comes up to wipe the corner of your mouth while a small grin tugs his lips. You’re tempted to just kiss him right here, right now. But you smile and let him guide you down the streets, weaving through the crowds with ease and acting like kids again with bright eyes and excited laughs. Eventually, the streets and people fade away as he turns down another way towards a valley. You look around curiously with a small smile, your eyes finding him more often than any other view before you.
“C’mon, love. We’re going exploring,” he hums at you, glancing back for a second before continuing to drag you along through the tall grass. You giggle and follow as he eventually falls back into the grass, flopping down beside him.
“What happened to exploring?” You tease, grinning when you feel his arm wrap around your waist and pull you into his side. He hums softly and positions you to rest your head on his chest. “Mmm… Decided I wanted to hang with you like this instead…” You nod and curl into him a bit more, a question tugging your thoughts. The temptation to ask got stronger, to figure out what you two were now, but you pushed it down. You didn’t want to ruin the mood. So, instead, you smile and close your eyes, enjoying it for now.
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You both knew getting back to the villa so late was going to get you in a bit of trouble. You also knew it’d be worse if they knew what you’d spent a good amount of that time alone doing. Therefore, deciding to wait until the swelling of your lips had faded and the flush of your face had fully disappeared was the better option. That didn’t stop them from asking when you walked in…
“Where the hell have you been?” Oakley’s dad asks, walking up to us the second we closed the door. Oakley is quick to dismiss his anger, his nonchalant tone and shrug too calm for his father’s liking. “Calm down, Dad, we’re back in time for dinner.”
“It’s 9:00!”
“That’s when Italians eat, right, love?” Oakley looks down at you with a sly grin, and you nod. Verena walks over with a shake of her head as the old man continues, “That doesn’t mean that we do. You should know that by now-” He’s cut off as his sister places a hand on his shoulder, “Just… try to be back earlier from now on,” she requests sweetly, looking at the two of you before nodding towards the stairs, letting you go.
Oakley was quick to grab your hand and pull you upstairs with another soft laugh, forgetting the previous confrontation rather quickly. It’s as if he weren’t just getting scolded as he drags you towards his room with a vibrant, albeit suggestive, expression. The boy barely gets you inside before his hands and mouth are on you again, kissing anywhere he can reach while his touch lights small fires along your skin.
“Fuck, love, I’m bloody addicted to you…” He mutters into your neck as his hands tug off your shirt. Your own hands had found a familiar place in his hair and on his shoulder, holding him close enough that you could feel every firm plane of his body against your softer curves. Your lips part in a quiet groan, and you begin to press kisses to his shoulder while your hands tug at his shirt. He grins into your skin and pulls back to pull it off, only to dive right back in once it’s off.
You feel his lips press kisses along the column of your neck, his teeth scraping and tongue soothing the soft bites he leaves as his hands wander to your thighs. He effortlessly lifts you, and your legs wrap tight around his middle, a quiet groan vibrating his lips against your neck at the sudden closeness of your hips to his. He needed you so badly.
And there wasn’t anything to hold him back anymore.
Oakley slides a hand down from your shoulder over your chest to the already soaked fabric between your thighs. You feel a jolt of sudden pleasure run up your spine, and before you know it, you’re shifting your hips toward his hand in hopes of more friction. Within a few seconds, you’re on his bed, completely bare, with him eating you out like you’re his last meal on death row. His tongue laps at your folds desperately, one hand accompanying his mouth by pumping into you steadily while the other slides up to grab at your breast.
Every movement he makes is to elicit another sinfully gorgeous sound from your kiss-swollen lips. He could never get used to your voice. To your taste, fuck, he could die happy between your perfect thighs that clench around his head. The bastard knows you’re close, too, slowing his speed to keep you on the edge as long as he can while you whine and plead and grasp at his hair. Your hips rut into his face, needy for more.
You watch your best friend pull away—leaving you trembling and whining his name—to shuck off his trousers and boxers. Another whimper escapes you, your eyes following the boy whom you’d spent your whole childhood with as he crawls over you again. He kisses you hard, your taste still on his tongue when it slips past your lips. Meanwhile, one hand moves down to align himself with your hips.
You swear the ecstasy you felt when he finally pushed the head of his cock into your needy pussy was unlike anything else. A moan vibrates your lips against his as he moves fully into you, stopping once he’s bottomed out. The pain was significantly less than last time, something you’re quite grateful for, and you wanted nothing more than for this moment to pause forever.
Finally, you found your voice—though cracked and needy, “Move… please, please move, Oakley, fucking please…” He does as told immediately, grinding his hips into yours once or twice before pulling out and sinking back in. His pace was devastating, the neediness consuming you until you’re nothing more than a whining, desperate mess beneath him. All that could leave your lips were the deprived moans and soft pleas of his name.
Eventually, he gives in, slamming his hips hard into yours and causing you to cry out in pleasure. His pace switches to rough and fast, though his hands were oh, so gentle as they ran down your sides. Oakley pulls your legs up to wrap around his waist, and you oblige easily. The two of you were so wrapped up in each other, you didn’t even hear the door open until…
“OAKLEY?!”
The boy on top of you pauses at the sound of his father’s voice ringing through his room before the realization hits him. He quickly pulls out and yanks a blanket over the two of you as he meets the older man’s furious gaze. “Dad, wha-”
“What the hell is wrong with you, boy?!” His dad’s shout cuts off Oakley before the older man sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Get dressed, come downstairs. Now.”
He shoots one disappointed and almost pitying glance at you, then slams the door shut and walks off. You feel him jolt beside you slightly at the noise, his eyes locked on the door, and an unreadable look in the soft blue of them. “...Oakley-”
“Just… Stay here,” he cuts you off. There was a sudden coldness in his voice, though you knew it wasn’t because of you. At least, you hoped it wasn’t. You watch as he quickly pulls his clothes back on and leaves before you do the same. It wasn’t as if you were actually gonna listen to him and stay put when this was clearly going to get back. By the time you reach the top of the stairs, you can hear Oakley’s father’s hushed yet incredibly reprimanding tone, “What the hell do you think you’re doing, string that girl along like she’s another toy? You know she deserves better than this.”
“Better than me, you mean,” Oakley cuts back, the scowl on his face clear even if you couldn’t see him. “Yeah. I do mean better than you, Oak. You don’t deserve that girl, and you know it.”
“I do know it!” The boy’s tone raises and you wince slightly. “You think I don’t realize that I’m not the kinda guy she’d spend her life with? You think I don’t know that? I fucking do! And it fucking kills me because she’s the best goddamn thing to ever fucking happen to me-”
“Then why’d you fuck it up and sleep with her, huh, Oakley?!” His father matches his volume, daring to raise it even as he points to the stairs. “She’s a mature girl, someone who has been such a good influence on you, and now you’ve gone and ruined it! You’ve made her another fucking toy for you, didn’t you?!”
“She’s not a toy to me!”
“No? Then what is she, huh? Is my son gonna finally put beside his list of girls and settle down? Because that’d be quite the surprise to all of us!” By now, the voices are echoing through the villa, and you’d hear the fight even from Oakley’s room. “Go on, Oakley, tell me what this is to you!”
“I don’t know!”
The words shouldn’t hurt as much as they do. You understand why he said it, he’s trying to defend himself and get out of the argument, yet… You can’t help when tears start to well in your eyes.
“Goddamn it, Dad, can’t you just fucking leave us alone for once minute?! I’m not just fucking around with her, but it’s not like I can change that fucking fast! I just can’t stop-”
“Can’t stop what? Using her? Because that’s what you’re doing, Oak, you’re fucking using her. You’re convincing her this is all she’s worth the longer you keep this up. You can’t give her what she needs, you can’t even give her love, Oakley, so stop leading her to think you could-”
“I DO LOVE HER!” You pause. The whole villa pauses. The whole world pauses, even. Of all the things you thought he might say, you never thought it’d be that. Before you could overthink it, he continues, “I love her so goddamn much, in ways you couldn’t understand. She is everything to me, Dad. I’d rather fucking die than hurt her-”
“Then you need to stop this,” his father’s words are firm. “You need to let her love someone else. Because I’ll be damned if I let you ruin another innocent girl’s life.”
“Fuck you! You don’t fucking know me!”
“I know you well enough to know you’ll fuck this up! Look at yourself, Oakley, you’re a fucking mess. A mess! You’re not worthy of her, and you fucking know it! You both do!”
“You weren’t worthy of Mom!” Oakley shouts, and a loud smack fills the air. Your breath catches in your throat, your eyes watering from shock and worry now instead of hurt. You lean forward enough to see your best friend holding a hand to his cheek, eyes filled with shock and the beginnings of tears—though he’d never let them fall. His dad grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls him closer, making his tone as steady and stern as possible, “You listen to me, and you listen well, son.”
His lips part in an attempt to talk back, to defend himself, but nothing comes out. “You shut the fuck up and listen. You don’t get to say that shit to me, you hear? If I see you near that girl in any way that isn’t friendly, you’ll be getting worse than just a swipe. Do you understand?”
Oakley nods, but his father sharply pulls him closer. “Do. You. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” The boy nods, and finally, he’s shoved away. His breath is fast, his hand moving to his face and running through his hair as the older man walks off.
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Normally, Oakley goes to you after a row with his dad, especially when it’s one as bad as this… however… You haven’t seen him since last night when it happened. He’d stormed off outside, and you didn’t hear him come back in until way after everyone else was asleep. You’d tried to get into his room, but he locked the door and refused to answer your calls and knocks.
Now, you’re sitting alone at the table, picking at your breakfast with your head held up by one hand. Verena has been sweet, but you haven’t seen her brother either. She walks in with a glass of water and sets it beside your plate. “You alright, sweetheart?” She asks, knowing the answer but trying to reach out anyway. You nod and set your fork down with a quiet sigh. “Just worried…”
“Oakley’s a strong kid… If he really meant what he said last night, he won’t let his dad keep you from him.” You let a hand fall to the table and scoff, “He didn’t mean it. Doesn’t mean it… I’m fairly confident he doesn’t love me.” The woman huffs out a laugh and looks down at you with a raised brow when you don’t laugh with her. “You’re serious? Honey, open your eyes. He doesn’t say that about anyone.”
You glance up and find her gaze steady on yours already. Verena places a hand on your shoulder and continues, “You of all people should know when he says something like that, he means it.” You sigh quietly and look down at your hands that fidget in your lap. Oakley’s aunt smiles softly, almost pitifully—that's rather common nowadays… maybe that’s just part of being friends with Oakley—and pats your shoulder twice. “Go try and talk to him. If anyone can get him out of his room, it’s you.”
With a final nod, you stand and head back upstairs, right up to Oakley’s bedroom door.
You try the handle again—expecting it to still be locked—and it turns easily, the door creaking open. The sight that met you was… rough. He was sat on his bed, arms wrapped around his legs, forehead resting on them. His room around him is a mess disaster, things strewn across his floor, desk cleared with all his belongings on the carpeting around it. His clothes were ripped out of his closet, not even off their hangers, and spread out on his floor, a few thrown into a suitcase before he’d seemingly given up.
“...Oakley…?” You ask quietly, stepping in and closing the door behind you. He looks up, eyes red, and sniffles before quickly wiping his face. “No use doing that, I’ve already seen ya,” you tease lightly, walking over and sitting beside him. As always, he’s reluctant to accept any comfort from you and turns away from you. “... C’mon, love… not this time…” You coo softly, hands moving to grasp his. He pulls away slightly but you keep your touch firm, not letting him pull away. “Oakley. C’mon.”
“He was right, y’know,” his voice is broken and rasped from overuse, his face stained with tears as he still refused to meet your gaze. “I’m not good enough for you.”
“Do you love me, Oakley?”
The question makes him pause. He really didn’t expect that of all things… and all of a sudden, he can’t hold it back anymore. He turns to you and presses his lips to yours as he chokes back a sob. Your hand runs into his hair, and you pull him closer, waiting for him to pull away before you do. “I love you so much, I don’t know what to do with it,” he breathes out against your mouth, kissing you again and chasing you as you lean back.
“That’s all that matters, then.” That’s all you say, and suddenly he falls apart. His face buries into your chest, his arms wrap tight around you, and he pulls you impossibly close to him. The two of you sit like that for a while, longer than either of you realizes, before you finally return his words. “I love you too, for the record… I have for a while.”
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