🌶️ Spicy Short [G]

Icy babe's short is here. For those of you who chose G to be an ex, this is just a glimpse into their relationship. Word count: 5082

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The dorm room is dim, lit only by the laptop screen long since forgotten on the desk and a lone lamp on the nightstand. Papers lay scattered along the desk and on the floor, forgotten in the brief time it took for the two of you to make your way to bed. The door muffled the sounds of those passing in the hallway. Forgotten as they claimed your lips again.

G’s single bed rests against the far wall, warm thanks to your shared body heat. The air feels stifling as the faint aroma of green tea mixed with the scent of G’s body spray and the clean linen of their bed.

There’s barely enough room on the bed for the two of you, bodies pressed against one another, as the sheets below you lay crumpled. The blankets on the other bed are untouched, in pristine condition, in complete contrast to G’s bed.

The surprise in their eyes is more than enough of a prize when you push them off you and straddle them. You had always wanted to watch what would happen to them once they lose a sense of that control they cling to so tightly, and, guessing by the tint of their cheeks they enjoy it.

You can’t help the smile that clings to your mouth as you lean forward to kiss them, drink in the taste of them, a taste you’ve come to enjoy, the slightest hint of green tea. Something you’ll forever associate with them. G’s hands slide from your waist to your hips, fingers dipping just enough that you can feel the heat of their skin. 

They moan into your mouth as your kisses grow longer, and slower, and your breath mingling together. Your fingers caress the beauty mark on G’s collarbone, softly stroking it as they slide their tongue along your lips and into your mouth, flicking against your own and drawing out something akin to a whimper. You can feel them smile, satisfied, as they pull the sound from your lips.

“What about...ah...the assignment?” you say, rushing your words as you try to catch your breath between each kiss.

They groan, one hand gripping the side of your neck as they pull your head to the side, intent on gaining access to the sensitive spot on your neck. The one they made sure to remember when they found it the first time. “It’ll be there when we’re done.”

You melt into their touch, into their lips as they begin to suck on the side of your neck, teeth scraping against that sensitive spot that causes your fingers to grip their shirt.

“Shit, you sound so sure.” You whisper as G lets go, stroking a finger along the hickey that now adorns your neck.

Their dark gaze finds your own, eyes intense in the low light of the room. “I am.”

"You actually think we have time for..this and the assignment?”

"No."

You open your eyes to glance at them as they flick their tongue against the bruised skin of your neck. "Wait, then what are you sure about?"

“You.” They whisper so softly that part of you wonders if you imagined the word. Their lips pull into a soft smile before they move to recapture your lips.

They pull your body closer, and the hand touching your neck now slides down to reach up under your shirt. You shiver from the coldness of their fingers, your body arching as G’s hand slides up higher, their fingertips ghosting over your skin.

Their dark almost black eyes watch your reaction, the tightening of your brow as your breath catches in your throat and their fingers graze your chest until they brush against the soft skin of your hardened nipple. You gasp softly into their mouth, muffled by the kiss as G groans. The hand that was resting on your lower back slid down to cup your buttocks, G’s long fingers gripping you harder.

You shift, widening your legs more so that you press even tighter against them as they move to remove your shirt and toss it. G’s hips press up against you as they lean their head forward, pressing their lips against your bare chest. The coolness of the air a contrast against their warm lips and tongue.

The heat pools in your stomach as you watch them, that icy demeanor you had gotten used to is gone, replaced by something raw and vulnerable. An expression they’ve only shown to you. Those dark eyes you used to find unreadable are now heavy-lidded with arousal, dark with their desire.

There’s an unmistakable flicker of need behind their cool exterior, in each touch and taste of you. All the walls they’ve built are down, leaving nothing but hunger and longing. Their pupils are blown wide, each glance lingers as they savor the sight of you. G breaths raggedly, their chest rising and falling as the heat from their eyes causes your heart to race. You can practically see their restraint unraveling with each passing second.

“I don’t let people in,” they admit, their gaze searching your face for a reaction. There’s a vulnerability to their words, one you’ve never heard before.

You can’t hide the worry on your face, as you force your lips open to ask, “Do you regret it?”

G’s response is immediate. Their lips part to answer, but instead of speaking, they lean forward and press a slow, tender kiss to your chest. Just above your heart. Their hands hold your waist tenderly, their fingers tapping against your skin in tune with your heartbeat, and as their lips graze your skin, they murmur, “Never.”

That one word causes your heart to skip a beat, and you cling to it. Allowing your fingers to slide up into their hair, caressing the dark inky strands. You lift their face cupping their cheeks, kissing them deep and desperately more urgently than all those prior. Your hand caresses their scalp, pulling them closer until there’s no space between you.

The look on their face is evident enough that they're allowing you to see them, truly see them. No mask of indifference, no calculated words. Just their feelings for you, their need for you.

G’s hands are everywhere, touching and exploring. Like they can’t get enough of you. Your bodies move together in rhythm, as if on instinct like the two of you’ve done this before.

“What are you thinking about?” G asks, watching as the tips of your fingers trail down their chest, slipping down to undo the button of their jeans.

Your eyes darken, watching as G licks their lips slowly “I was thinking-,” A finger tucks inside the waistband of their underwear, pulling the elastic outwards allowing you a glimpse at the dark dusting of hair.

Your voice drops, “how nice it would be to hear you moan my name.” G watches as your hand slides in, fingers finally reaching their mark. They stiffen under your touch, a soft moan escaping their lips as their hips arch upwards, their arousal pressing against the apex of your thighs.

But then, slowly, deliberately, the door opens.

In the doorway stands G’s roommate, Chris, their face one of feigned surprise, along with something else in their gaze. G pulls roughly on the edge of the blanket, raising it to cover the two of you. Chris’ eyes flicker between you, the weight of their gaze settling uncomfortably finally resting on you, as G slides you off their lap, partially covering your body with their own.

Chris’ reaction is slow, brows shooting up a fraction. “Oh,” they say, the word dragging out as they lean against the door frame. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

You can feel the air change quickly, G moving their hand to rest on your thigh, fingers pressing into your skin. They tense just at the sight of Chris. “What are you doing here?” They mutter, the intimacy from before slipping away in the awkward tension filling the air.

Chris shrugs, “I didn’t mean to walk in on…whatever this is,” they say, flicking their hand at the two of you. Walking into the room, Chris flicks the overhead light on and walks toward their bed. Scoffing, they pick up your shirt from where G had tossed it onto their bed. “I thought I would come check on you.”

“I’m fine-“

Chris shakes their head, “Not you, them.” They say and toss your shirt to you. Their voice is full of concern, but something is off about the tone, a sharpness underneath their words.

“Why?” You ask, G’s hand pulling you closer behind them.

Chris gives a lop-sided smile before turning to allow you privacy to change back into your shirt. “I saw the two of you arguing earlier. I was worried, and neither of you was answering.”

Your mind flashes briefly, memories of the disagreement from earlier in the day playing out in your mind. It was nothing out of the ordinary, a disagreement about an exam the two of you had been stressing over.

G frowns, muttering something under their breath, their jaw ticking with annoyance. “We’re fine.” They say briskly.

You clear your throat, alerting Chris, who turns giving you a gentle smile, as gentle as they can. “Really?” They ask, their gaze locking onto you.

“You stormed out of here pretty upset.” Chris steps closer to you, reaching their hand out to give you a comforting pat on the shoulder until G’s hand smacks theirs away.

 Stormed out, upset. The heat from before feels distant now as if the passionate moment between you slips through your fingers.

G notices your hesitation, the grip on your thigh loosening. “We’re fine,” they say again, but the way their voice drops gives way to their uncertainty. “Right?” They ask, their dark eyes trying to read your expression.

The doubt settles heavily in your chest. The argument was nothing unusual – stress about an exam, a brief, fleeting moment of frustration – but the way Chris was talking about it. Spinning it. Makes it seem bigger than it was, more significant. You can’t help but look at G, their expression darkening and their wall building back up, brick by brick. Their face slipped into a mask of stoicism. Trying to hide their emotions, not from you, but from Chris.

“We’re not fighting,” G says firmly, their voice had lost its edge. Glancing at you again, through dark lashes, looking for some sort of confirmation.

You nod, briefly meeting their eyes before looking away. The excitement, the passion, replaced by a growing discomfort, a nagging feeling that maybe things aren’t as fine as you thought.

The sound of Chris smacking their hands together pulls your attention, as they give the two of you a brief nod before heading toward the door.

“That’s good to hear. Music to my ears.”

They say, but something about their tone of voice feels almost triumphant. They pause at the door one last time, giving you a final look.

You miss the look they give you, but G doesn’t. There was one word for it, one word that flashed through their mind as Chris stared at you. Possessive. Quickly masked with a concerned smile, but not quick enough.

“If you ever need to talk, Red.” Chris says, using Cam’s nickname for you, “I’m around.” Their voice was gentle, full of suggestion, before they slipped back out of the room.

The room feels suffocating now; the blanket covering the two of you only increases the heat of the room, of your face. G sits up fully, buttoning up their pants, lips pursed out, the frustration etched across their face. “Don’t mind Chris.” There is a tightness to their voice, tainting their expression.

You nod, standing to pick up some of the scattered papers littering the ground, stacking them together sharply on the desk. “We should finish-“

You don’t hear G stand, don’t hear their footsteps behind you as they lean forward to place a hand over your own. “I don’t understand why Chris acts this way.”

“Hm?” You watch as G’s hand strokes the back of your hand.

“Sometimes” their voice trails off, fingers intertwining with yours on the desktop. "sometimes, it feels like Chris says things to mess with us. Like they enjoy putting thoughts into my head."

You sigh, feeling G’s chest lean against your back. “Maybe…maybe we really are fighting more than we realize.” Your voice is hesitant.

G leans forward, placing a soft kiss on the side of your neck. “We weren’t. That argument, fight. Whatever you want to call it – it was nothing. We were stressed because it was a big exam. A large portion of our grade depended on it. Don’t...don't let Chris make you second-guess everything. I know how I feel about you.”

Thoughts spin in your head, most of your interactions with Chris were good ones. They began checking on you ever since rooming with G, asking how you’re doing. Offering help and guidance when you need it, but Chris doesn’t know G as you do, your relationship like you do.

Turning around you hook your hands around their neck, noticing the look in their eyes. Worry. “I’m sorry.” You murmur, resting your head against theirs.

G cups your face, thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “Don’t be. If you’re ever worried about us, ever need reassurance of how much I care about you. I’ll say it a thousand times.” they say, voice soft and reassuring. Lips pressing against your temple.

“Just a thousand?” You tease.

You feel their lips quirk as they place another kiss along the bridge of your nose. “Forgive me, a million. Does that work?”

You nod as G sighs, pressing one last lingering kiss to your lips before pulling you to bed, head falling back against a pillow.

“We should get some sleep,” they murmur, their hand rubbing your back softly. 

You rest your head on their chest, their eyes flitting across the details of your face as you listen to their heartbeat. “Fall breaks tomorrow, going to be a long drive home.”

G nods, though neither of you seems eager to fall asleep, instead laying there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. The thought of being apart for the next few days lingered at the edge of your mind, but for now, you were content with just being close. The steady rise and fall of your breaths in sync.

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The next day passes in a flurry. You kiss each other goodbye once then twice, before you each head home for fall break. It passes, slowly – too slowly.

You catch up with friends and family, but you can’t get G out of your head. If Chris hadn’t interrupted the two of you, there’s a good chance that you and G would have finally had sex. Finally, take that step in your relationship.

The house is empty, there’s not much to do since Jade took your parents to meet her new boyfriend. Much to their surprise, this one seemed serious. You have the house alone, deciding to lie in bed, staring at your phone.

You and G had exchanged several texts, they even sent you a photo of themselves dressed in scrubs. Which suited them, much to their displeasure. But you knew G didn’t want to become a neurosurgeon like their father. An argument days ago had resulted in them returning to campus, alone in their dorm room. Waiting for your return.

You pull at the blanket, letting it rest along your chest as you scroll through your phone until a familiar ringtone catches your attention, buzzing in your hands as G’s name pops up. You steady yourself before accepting the video call. “Hey.” You say, smiling as you notice the blue pajamas they’re wearing.

“Hey,” G replies. “I…wanted to see you.”

You can’t help but chuckle softly, “Don’t tell me you’re lonely. Missing me already?”

They click their tongue, sighing heavily. “I would miss you more if you cited the articles right on the paper we have due next week-“

“Oh, what’s that? Looks like the call is cutting off. Guess I’ll hang up no-“

“Don’t!” G yells, the pitch so loud you have to pull the phone away from your ear.

“Ow.”

“Sorry…just. Don’t hang up, I didn’t call to gripe. I was…you were teasing me.”

You roll onto your side, allowing the blankets to pool around you as you tuck your head under the cover. “So, you resort to lecturing when you’re being teased?”

G says nothing for a moment, the sound of the radiator filling the space. “My bed smells like you,” G murmurs, ignoring your question as they flop back onto the bed.

 Ah, so they lecture when they’re put on the spot. Or when they’re embarrassed?

“Sorry?”

“Don’t be. I like the way you smell.”

You enjoy how they smell, but you won’t say it, pleased that they’re missing you at all. G fills you in on their day, on their plans for the rest of break while they’re at campus. As the conversation wound down, you can feel the tension creeping in, a remnant left behind.

“The other night..if Chris hadn’t.” G’s voice trails off into a heavy silence that makes your heart race.

You suddenly notice how dry your mouth is, forcing you to swallow. “Yeah.”

“I wanted to…” their voice deepens. It’s so subtle you could almost miss it. “I want to.” They admitted, voice lower and more intimate. They don’t look at the phone for a second, their ears looking almost pinkish as they collect themselves.

Your teeth sink into your lips, pulse quickens at the thought. It was harder than you cared to admit, feeling the urge to groan into your pillow.

You fight against the bundle of nerves in your gut as you say “Me too.”

G releases a breath they hadn't realized they were holding, chuckling soon after before swearing under their breath. Their bed creaks under their weight as they pull themselves up against the headboard.

You can’t help but sigh, rolling onto your back, and pressing the blanket down. “Are you alone?” You ask, trying to keep your voice as calm as possible.

They flip their camera around, showing you the room void of anyone else. “Yeah, you?”

“Yeah.” You do the same, giving them a brief glimpse of your old bedroom. One you hoped they would get to visit one day.

There’s an unmistakable look in their dark gaze. The same one they give you when their hands graze your inner thighs. “I wish you were here.”

Your breath hitches, your hand brushing against your stomach. “What would you do if I were there?”

Their expression quickly morphs from joy to embarrassment and then back, unable to fight the grin that wants to take over their face. They swallow audibly, willing themselves to speak, and when they do the heat behind their words causes an ache within you. A longing for something other than their words. “Kiss that spot on your neck, the one just below your ear lobe. Scrape my teeth along it. Just to get you to gasp like you did the first time I found it.” 

You remember the look on G’s face when they found that sensitive spot. They lapped at the soft skin. They would stroke their fingers along that spot in class when no one is looking, placing soft kisses along it when you’re standing in the stacks in the library. Back pressed flush against the shelf and their knee pressed between your thighs.

“This spot?” You ask, pulling at your shirt, showing G the purplish bruise they left on your neck just days ago.

G swallows, tongue flicking to moisten their lips as their chest rises and falls faster. The idea of being so close yet so far causes them to long for you even more. They nod as their fingers grip their thigh, mumbling under their breath. “I could kill Chris.”

“What?”

They shake their head pulling at the collar of their top, allowing the cool air of the room to cool their warmed body.

“What’s got you so warm?” You can’t help the way your voice lilts to tease them.

They shoot you a look, one they’ve given you several times, meaning you should know better than to ask that. Your thoughts turn to something more intimate, the way their hand slides higher up their leg, inching ever closer to the tie on the front of their pants.

You can’t fight the thought of watching them touch themselves when they think of you. It wouldn’t be the first time the two of you had masturbated together, but normally you were in the same room.

You set your phone at the foot of the bed, turning your bedside light on so that G can see you better. They grow quiet at first, a curious expression on their face as you allow your hand to slide over your abdomen.

Spreading your thighs open as your hand makes its way under the waistband of your shorts and then your underwear. Body tingling with anticipation.

Their breath catches, teeth sinking into the soft pink skin of their lip. “What’re you doing?” They ask, but they already know the answer.

The urge to show them how badly you miss their touch, their hands trailing your skin, a burning path left in their wake, is almost all-consuming.

When you’re too far apart to help one another, when they can’t steal a taste of you when their tongue leaves you overstimulated and begging for release. The urge to show them how much you want them to make them want you just as much is hard to fight.

“You said it turned you on watching me, so watch me now.” Heat floods your senses once your hand finally reaches that spot, aching and warm, whimpering as you increase the pressure.

“Shit.” Is all G can manage, fingers quickly untangling the tie at the top of their pajama bottoms. They set their phone down, allowing you to watch as they shift closer, thighs spread wide, a familiar glimpse of a beauty mark on the side of their stomach. Their hand shakily moves to unbutton their top, allowing the fabric to slide off their shoulders, their chest bare.

The sound they make is a cross between a sigh and a groan. The sound gets lost as they go to remove their pajama bottoms and then their underwear.

G runs a hand through their dark hair, pressing themselves back against the headboard as their thighs drift open invitingly. Letting you gaze at their naked skin as their fingers splay out against their thigh, slowly sliding until they touch the spot you had longed to lick. The spot you longed to toy with until they weep with pleasure.

“Fuck,” they groan, their eyes fluttering shut for a moment before reopening, locking onto you, following your hand and the steady rhythm you're keeping. “I want to watch you.”

“You’re looking at me right now.” You feign ignorance, taking pleasure in the way their lips pull into a pout. There’s a time and place for teasing them, and when their fingers are slowly, achingly, stroking their naked skin. Dipping against the curve of their body as it contacts their warm core, you know now isn’t the time.

“All of you.” They plead, the sound of their voice alone enough to have you pulling your clothes off. Soaking in the sound of their breath as it catches in their throat once you’re naked.

The memory of their warm skin underneath you, their arousal pressing up against you as your hand slid into their underwear and they moaned underneath you, causes you to quicken your movements.

“Baby,” they purr, voice heavy with lust. “Bring me closer.”

Grabbing the phone, you line them up, a front-row seat to your fingers, exploring your body. You wet your fingers with your saliva, allowing it to assist you as a lubricant. Your fingers circle slowly, dragging out the pleasure, and you watch as G tries to mirror your speed. They match you, stroke for stroke, each tender caress that turns rough, increasing in pressure, matched.

They groan softly, their toes curling against their sheets, their frustration and desire palpable. “Tell me how it feels.”

Your back arches, hips pressing upward, aching for the contact. Your voice comes out like a whine. “It feels good. I’m aching for you.” And you were, the tightening in your lower stomach, the heat flooding your senses—the smell of your arousal in the air.

G inhales sharply, the sound of their skin, their hand palming themselves, hips rolling upwards. You watch as their legs shake, the sounds of their ministrations drifting through the phone. The all too familiar sound of skin smacking against skin, wet with arousal causing your body to tense, aching for some sort of relief.

The bed squeaks as the two of you pick up the pace, one of G’s hands fisting into their hair roughly as they rut against their hand. “Why do you have to be so far away?” The sound of frustration in their voice causes your chest to tighten. Only a few more days, you tell yourself.

“I want you to do something for me.”

You watch them nod, eyes closed, not really looking at you, but soaking in your sounds, your voice. “Anything.” They growl, their voice strained. G’s body throbbed, their need building to a fever pitch. But once they hear your words, they force themselves to slow.

“Don’t come yet. I want you to edge yourself for me.” Your voice takes on a sultry tone, unable to fight the heat behind your gaze as you take in the way their body tenses.

G rubs a hand over their mouth, groaning into their palm. “You know how hard it is for me to stop once I-“

“I know,” you reply, shooting them a wicked smile as they rise to look at you on the screen. “You can do it, you just have to slow down.“ your hand slows, demonstrating, as your fingers trail achingly slow. “I want to come together.”

Their mouth falls open, nodding as they watch each movement like it’s the first time they’ve seen you tease your body for them. You could hear the tension in their voice, forcing themselves to hold back the release they ached for. “I-I don’t know how much longer I can last.”

The sight of them slowing their hand, pacing themselves so that they can come with you, sends a thrill through your body. They bite hard onto their lip, trying to soften the sound that tears through their throat as they get closer to their peak. You moan. As pleasure builds higher and higher in your gut, your senses heighten. The sound of your heart beating, the sound of fabric shifting, and the sound of G begging.

“Slowly, don’t come yet,” you whisper, your voice already shaky with need. “I want to hear you desperate for me.”

Their breath catches as one low moan pulls from their lips, legs thrashing against the fabric of their sheets, their eyes half closed as they watch you intently. Each achingly slow shift of fingers, each slow pass of skin causing them to crave you more. To want to feel you collapse against their body once your orgasm takes hold. “I need you.” They moan, something so simple, but something you ache to hear again.

You can feel the tension winding tighter with every passing second. Your eyes latch onto G’s hand as their movement gets less calculated, somewhat frantic as they edge themselves.

Your pulse races, the blood rushing in your ear as they moan your name. Almost like a prayer, begging you. “Please, fuck.” They clench their jaw, their other hand moving to caress their chest, the same spot you had left bite marks many times before. Their voice was ragged, their head dropping between their shoulders. “I’m so close.”

You’re both so close to your release right on the brink, and the idea of coming together nearly pulls you over the edge. Your muscles tightening, “Now,” you whisper, voice thick with desire. “Come for me. I want to hear you.”

G lets out a low, guttural moan. Voice rough and desperate as their body tightens, the light of their phone catching just right, allowing you to watch the bead of cum on their fingers, and the sound of their release pushes you over the edge. Your bodies shudder with pleasure, their name falling from your lips as you finally feel the tension break.

With your eyes closed, stars flash behind your lids as your orgasm causes your body to spasm. Your leg jerks as you ride it out. Your body flushing with heat and ecstasy.

Neither of you speaks for several moments, both breathless and sated. You hear the soft rustle of movement, pulling your attention to the phone between your thighs. G moves to clean themselves, their cheeks tinted with color, a soft smile on their face.

“A mess, as usual.” You tease, sitting to do the same.

They scoff, shooting you a look, attempting to look imposing. But there’s only affection in their gaze. “You’re one to talk.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Wha- how?”

"You look at me like, well, that.” You point a finger to the phone and G moves to hide their smile.

“Would you prefer I stop?”

You quickly remember the way they looked at you, kissing your chest. The words they said caused your heart to skip a beat. Hoping when you say it, it does the same for them. “Never.”

You watch as they freeze for just a moment, hand moving to rest on their chest, and give you the exact reaction you wanted. They must remember it too.

“Then I won’t. I can’t wait for you to come back,” they murmur, voice soft but full of meaning.

You wouldn’t admit that you’d started counting the days when you found out they were back on campus alone. “Me either.”

G readjusts themselves by bringing the phone, you, with them as they slide back into their spot. Their head turns to the side, eyes falling to Chris’ bed. “I had an idea.”

“Oh, for the assignment?”

G’s teeth worry their lip, pulling at the sensitive skin for several minutes before turning their head to look at you. “Something like that.”