mostly smut, some of them are quite kinky-ish, just check the individual chapter warnings. the first ones are probably bad, they're older.
more on my Tumblr @goblinontour
a couple rounds of strip poker and truth or dare gone wrong...or right?
warnings: fetus!alex, smut, oral (m receiving), alcohol, vomit, he's a bit awkward but not too much
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The music felt loud. Too loud, maybe. But in his head, it was even louder. A relentless pulse of beats and treble that thrummed through his veins. The reality was that the volume was pretty low, as you'd been asked to keep it down after some complaints, but the alcohol coursing through his system distorted everything. The vodka and cranberry juice mix had been his drink of choice for the night, and he'd downed enough of it to feel the numbness spreading from his lips to his fingertips. His stomach would probably make him pay for it tomorrow, but for now, that was a distant problem. Anyway, you'd all likely be in the same miserable boat when the sun came up, so he didn't dwell on it.
What did bother him, though, was the fact that he was fully dressed. Not because he was too warm or anything, but because, to his surprise, he'd won all the rounds of poker you'd played. Strip poker, to be exact. Sure, there was a fleeting sense of pride in his victories. Who wouldn't feel good about winning? But that pride was quickly eclipsed by the growing realisation that he might look like a fool for being the only one still clothed.
The other guys had stripped down to their boxers, lounging back on their elbows with the kind of casualness that made it seem like they were born to be in this state of undress. They were laughing, nudging each other, their confidence undiminished by the lack of clothing. If anything, the absence of layers seemed to free them up, make them more comfortable. More...cool.
And then there were the girls, with their bright eyes and flushed cheeks, sitting around the circle on the floor, glancing at each other, at the boys, and at him. He couldn't ignore the fact that several pairs of breasts were staring back at him, covered only by bras that, judging by their colours and patterns, had been chosen with this exact scenario in mind. It wasn't just a game. It was a chance. The kind of chance that you only got once, especially at this age when crushes were intense and opportunities to act on them were rare.
But despite the playful atmosphere, the giggles, and the alcohol-fueled courage hanging in the air, Alex couldn't bring himself to look up. He kept his gaze fixed firmly on his hands, resting awkwardly in his lap. The cardigan he wore, at his nana's insistence, the one with "A.T." stitched in black thread over the baby blue fabric, right above his heart, suddenly felt like a suit of armour he didn't know how to take off.
You were sitting directly across from him, your pink-ruffled bra on full display, your hopes of catching his eye slowly fading with every second his attention stayed glued to his own cuticles. You had chosen that bra deliberately, as had the other girls chosen theirs, expecting and maybe even hoping that this exact situation would arise. The thrill of potentially being noticed by the boy you'd spent countless hours daydreaming about had your heart racing. But it seemed like your chances with Alex were slim. His head was down, his focus entirely elsewhere, and those hands of his seemed more important than anything, or anyone else in the room.
